These hills, snapped through the windshield of my cab, are in Kazakhstan. While I didn't go there, I saw about an hour's worth of what the country had to offer.

The meal that did me in? I blame my thieving cab driver.

The ceiling of my yurt in Kochkor. What really struck me this weekend is how these things can be really beautiful inside, especially at night, when the soft lamplight is flickering on the radiating wooden rods.

My first yurt: a hut set up in someone's back yard in Kochkor. Surprisingly, I slept very well here.

The outhouse was conveniently located just next to the yurt. Unfortunately, my brief episode of violent stomach illness coincided with my stay here, and I spent a lot of time in this facility.

Kochkor is a quaint little community that is a holdover from the Russian colonial days.

The mountains that I would tackle the next day were visible to the south.

A shameless cute animal photo. This little kitten followed me for about half a mile when I was walking around town. I didn't know what to do because it had not clear home. Eventually, we walked by a group of kids, who soon distracted the kitten with petting, and I hope that they found a home for it.

The local neighborhood watch.

My host father for the evening was busy making a shyrdak when I returned. Shyrdaks are felt rugs that serve as the floors in yurts, and they are still hand made in this region. He has laid out the design in dry died wool, and wrapped it tightly in a reed mat before soaking it in boiling water. He was stomping on the mat to set the pattern, and remove any excess water.

This is a finished shyrdak that was in my yurt.

This is the meal that my host mother in Kochkor made for me. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it was mild, i did not have the stomach for it.

Miraculously, I felt much better in the morning, perhaps due to a special awful-tasting tea that my host brought to me for my stomach. It was made from flowers that were gathered on the mountains, and as far as I can tell, it didn't hurt.

One of my guides, Miribaq, was a real comedian. I didn't understand anything he was saying, but I couldn't help laughing along with everyone else.

We came to a bit of an impasse. The previous night's rains had completely washed away the path over this stream. We had to climb up the hill to find a suitable place to ford it.

While the guides tried to figure out how to deal with our little obstruction, I had a chance to shoot this photo back down the mountain.

Eventually, this man came from a hut on the other side of the river, and led his horse across. He volunteered to take my bag to the other side, and I followed him on my horse through the raging river. This was the most frightened I've been so far on this trip.

The shepherd who carried my bag invited us in for kymyz, fermented mare's milk, and tea. There was fresh hand-churned butter on the table for the nan.

The shepherd was excited for me to take this photo of his kids.

This is the hut in which we enjoyed the tea, and everyone but me greatly enjoyed the kymyz (do you like tangy milk that tastes a little like shoe leather?), and where this family will spend the summer.

These two shepherds were heading down the mountain, and begged me to take this photo of them.

A hardworking sheep dog takes a quick nap.

This was the host mother in the yurt on the jailoo (summer pasture) where I spent last night. Here she is milking a horse, which evidently takes a tremendous amount of skill. I didn't even know that people milked horses, let alone drank the stuff.

This is part of the family's herd of horses. They rome all over the surrounding hills.

Lunch: a noodle dish with carrots, mutton, and some kind of dairy product. It was flavored with dill. The family cannot afford to make frequent trips down the mountain, so almost all of their supplies were either brought up when they arrived in mid June, or were gathered up here.

After lunch, Chiqa, my other guide, and I took a hike up a neighboring peak.

The lake that was our destination for today, is on the other side of these mountains.

A view back towards Kochkor. We had come a long way in a day.

The dogs here were very friendly, and were very hard workers. This guy constantly ran up and down the hills protecting his flock.

During a rain shower, I went into the yurt, and got to see the mother and her two daughters preparing dinner. They're making some dumplings here.

Chiqa loves dogs.

The horses seem to enjoy life up here, when the stallions are not fighting.

What gives? I was promised an idyllic setting for my yurt stay.

This is the source of all the water that the family uses. The host mother and I went down here to fill up some buckets.

My abode for the evening is on the left. The dog slept outside.

These were the dumplings that I saw being made. Unfortunately, they were a little salty for my taste.

The horses ate dinner, too, only their meal lasted all day. Unfortunately, horses here only speak Kyrgyz.

They milk cows here, too.

They start 'em out early here. This little boy was no more than five years old, and he had just come back from rounding up the sheep when I took this photo.

The weather changes quickly in the mountains.

It got cold pretty quickly once the sun set.

When i woke up, the sheep were still asleep. Only a dozen or so were baying.

This is Lake Kul-u-Kuk, the destination for my two-day horse trek. The final two hours up here were hazardously challenging. By the way, the dog followed us all the way up from the yurt camp.

I can't imagine a much more picturesque site.

How do you say "giddy-up" in Kyrgyz?