The Reality of Overlanding Through Mongolia in Winter

“A lot of people ask me, 'Why Mongolia?' And the question really is, 'Why not?'” says Andrew. Coming from the USA, where life is defined by manicured cities and predictable order, the raw openness of Mongolia felt like a refreshing challenge. His response captures the essence of every Nomadic Road adventure: to step away from the ordinary and embark on a journey that defies expectations.

For those who crave raw adventure, Mongolia in winter is the ultimate playground. Here, nomadic culture thrives—there are people that still live in traditional gers, hunt with eagles, and wear colourful deels. Outside the chaotic capital of Ulaanbaatar, the roads disappear into open wilderness. The vast country stretches on, so desolate and remote that you could drive for hours without seeing another soul.

Nomadic Road’s Mongolia self-drive expedition takes you deep into this untamed world. Temperatures drop to as low as -25°C, and the journey unfolds across snow-laden roads, frozen lakes and rivers, and towering dunes.

“There was this word ‘rugged’ in the expedition description which caught my attention,” says Preeti, from India, recalling why she signed up for Nomadic Road’s Mongolia winter expedition. “I like to do little crazy things.” 

So, how did the Mongolia self-drive adventure really pan out for Andrew, Preeti, and the rest of the crew? What were the best moments, and what kept them going when things didn’t go to plan? Would they do it all over again? Hear it straight from the people who faced the cold, the chaos, and the curveballs, and lived to tell the tale.

“I Didn’t Know It Would Be That Surreal”

For those who’ve never set foot in Mongolia, it’s hard to grasp its scale. Mark, from Singapore, captures it best: “The first thing that hit me when I came to Mongolia is just the vastness. The view. The landscape.”

Nomadic Road’s Mongolia 4x4 tours are designed to move through this immensity. Each day reveals a new mood, a new terrain. In Hustai National Park, travellers have rare, quiet encounters with Przewalski’s horses—the last truly wild horses on Earth. At Lake Khuvsgul, you find yourself surrounded by a frozen lake—ice stretching out endlessly in every direction. And you drive across it. Yes, really drive across it.

There’s something profoundly humbling about driving full throttle across solid ice, listening to it creak beneath you, and watching your tires etch lines across its surface. Mongolia winter driving doesn’t get more unforgettable than this.

“Driving on the ice was absolutely incredible,” says Philip. “I knew it was going to be amazing, but I didn’t know it would be that surreal.” George agrees: “I think that was the one thing I want to do again and again and again, for a long period of time.”

Then come the contrasts. Hot springs that bubble defiantly in subzero temperatures. Landscapes that shift from endless snowfields to ochre-toned desert in a matter of hours. On Day 9, as the convoy headed west toward Ulgii town, the white world receded. The snow gave way to dust, and suddenly, after days of monochrome, colour returned to the road.

No One Expected a Shaman by the Lake

Before travellers sign up for a Nomadic Road expedition, they’re walked through a day-by-day program detailing what lies ahead. But we also tell them straight: plans are just scaffolding. Out here, the real magic lies in what you can’t predict.

Christiano from Italy nails it: “Be ready to really welcome something that can potentially be completely out of everything you have ever imagined.”

No one expected to find a Soviet-era 6x6 beast of a truck just casually parked outside one of our stays. But there it was, and yes, we had to take it for a spin. It was Mongolia winter driving like nothing else. “Driving this monster Russian truck in the middle of nowhere... that was insane,” says Matteo, also from Italy. “I live for this kind of thing.”

Nor did anyone expect to be swept into the culture so deeply. One night, inside a yurt, the group listened to traditional throat singing — eerie, raw, and beautiful. Another evening, a shaman arrived at sunset, as a fire crackled by the lake. He spoke of ancestors, of futures, of family. Nobody expected to be this moved.

Sure, we planned this bit. But travellers had no idea until it happened. It was as if they were being rewarded for saying yes to the unknown, for stepping out of their comfort zones.

“You know what they say, no expectations, no fears,” Matteo adds. “But actually, I broke my rules. I came here with expectations… and the journey met every single one.”

The Unexpected Intimacy of the Road

“The way that everybody came together, the energy of the group was just fantastic,” says Andrew. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, your crew becomes your lifeline. Without that camaraderie, you don’t make it through—not while having fun, at least.

Preeti, a solo traveller, found that out quickly. “[The crew] kept me motivated. They appreciated my driving. They helped me get through those 11 days.”

In a group like this, you learn people fast. How they communicate. How they respond to adversity. Their triggers and their glimmers. “People you didn’t know at all become close friends in just a few days,” says Jason. “I think very few people in this world will have the kind of experience we had.”

Out here, far from home and routine, you meet people as they are. Not who they’ve been, or who they think they should be. It’s freeing. And it just might be the best part of all.

The Feeling That Follows You Home

What truly ties this expedition together isn’t just what makes it. It’s the feeling it leaves behind. A sense of freedom so vast, you start questioning what limits ever meant.

“The challenging part is stopping for the day. You want to keep going; you want to keep driving,” says Philip.

That urge to keep pushing forward, to see what lies beyond the next bend, is the heartbeat of Nomadic Road. If you want to know what it really felt like, you have to see it for yourself.

Uncover the most unforgettable moments from the Mongolia winter expedition.And maybe, just maybe, start mapping out your own way into the unknown.