Really, really cold. In the depths of winter, temperatures can drop as low as–40° (which, someone is bound to cheerily inform you, is the same in Celsius and Fahrenheit). It wasn’t nearly that frigid as I walked around the capital city of Ulaanbaatar on a bright October morning, but my fingers and ears were already feeling icy through my thin gloves and ill-fitting hat. In a few days, I’d be heading to the harsh winds of the open steppe and early snows of the mountain valleys—and if I was cold now, I’d be in bad shape then. Mentioning my predicament to my tour guides and a few new local friends I’d made, I kept hearing the same advice: Go to Gobi Cashmere.
