As we were riding into our final station before the
finish, the rain that had pummeled us all morning sub-
sided and the sun burst out.
I selected a racy little black horse from the final group
and we set out of the station at a relentless gallop un-
der the blazing sun. Coming to Mongolia, this was all I
had wanted: to race uninhibited across the heartbreak-
ingly beautiful steppe.
I wanted to commit every bit of what was around me
that last 28 kilometers to memory. It had been a test-
ing and humbling week, and while there was a definite
sense of relief that the finish line was around the cor-
ner, I wasn't quite ready to let go.
Eion, Christine, and I crossed the Mongol Derby fin-
ish line at 12:45 p.m., in joint 16th place of 44 riders,
with 1,015 kilometers (630 miles)–and a lifetime of
memories–under our belts in 7 1/2 days. The next few
minutes were a blur as the riders who had crossed be-
fore us engulfed us in hugs, handed us the best-tasting
warm beers we'd ever had, and begged us for our best
stories. The storytelling went on for the next two days
as we cheered the remaining riders in, and they'll no
doubt continue for many years.
