“Unveiling Secrets: How Jess Phoenix’s ‘The Race’ Transforms the Meaning of Survival in an Unforgiving World”
Glowing blue LED running lights became visible as the bike approached. I elbowed Anthracite’s shoulder, trying to move him safely off the road. He flashed his teeth at me. Apparently, we were still on formal terms despite our grueling day together.
The bike stopped and a beefy young Mongolian in a yellow T-shirt and a dirty baseball hat eyed me and my grumpy equine. I mustered a friendly smile, pointing at the urtuu lights.
“Urtuu?”
He looked where I pointed and then back, nodding. A quick string of Mongol words followed, and I shrugged, sheepish. My Mongol vocabulary was limited to baruun tish (turn right), züün tish (turn left), chigeeree (straight ahead), and ali mori khamgiin shildeg ve? (which horse is best?).
