WHITEFIELD, Maine — It was a podcast in 2022 that led Jessie Dowling halfway around the world to race horses.
Dowling owns and operates Fuzzy Udder Creamery in Whitefield, a farm and cheese business she began 12 years ago. She started small, tending and milking the goats and sheep and then making and selling the cheese. Over time, the business has grown to have eight employees.
Along the way, Jessie rediscovered her love for horses, and for riding—which began when she was young.
"I didn’t have many friends growing up, so playing with horses was the way I got through my childhood," Dowling explained.
She had gotten away from riding in high school and college years, but once she owned a farm with fields, she decided to get back into horses.
That led to Jessie listening to a podcast in May 2022, which changed her life.
"And on his podcast was a woman… who was talking about the Mongol Derby, and she trains riders for the Mongol Derby."
Dowling had never heard of the Mongol Derby until then.
It's billed as the world’s longest and toughest horse race, 10 days and 1,000 kilometers across central Mongolia. Race organizers say it recreates the route and manner of the country’s ancient postal system that was begun by Genghis Kahn. Riders change horses several times each day to complete each leg of the race.
The horses, Dowling says, are owned by Mongol families who live on the huge grasslands of the Steppes, raising goats and sheep and depend on their own herds of horses for their livelihood.
Dowling says she knew immediately she had to be part of the race.
"I heard about the Mongol Derby in May, and I immediately signed up, applied, and I got in. So I immediately started to train, started running, working out."
She made five trips to Oregon to train with the woman she had heard on the podcast and began getting involved with endurance rides in Maine and elsewhere.
Dowling says she went to her lead staff member at Fuzzy Udder and was assured they could manage the business while Dowling was off on training trips. As the process unfolded and she became more familiar with the Mongol Derby, Dowling admits the race seemed daunting.
"I was terrified," she said. "If you see any videos, on the start line you have 43 riders, and you start at a dead gallop down a hill. I tried to visualize that for months—trying to visualize myself not dying. Because there were 43 people [who] started the race, 25 finished, 11 ended up in the hospital."
Through it all, she says, the idea of Mongolia held her attention and spurred her on.
"Mongolia is one of the birthplaces of horsemanship. Anyone who loves horses and horseback riding should go there. Kind of like a holy pilgrimage,” Dowling said.
Training continued right up to the race time in August, preceded by a week-long "academy" in Mongolia, where they prepared riders to face the arduous conditions of the derby.
The derby is organized and managed by a British company called The Equestrianists, which also produces reality programming for the event.
Dowling says the race itself was physically difficult and demanding, and said she believes her years of farm work, as well as the training, toughened her up for the ordeal.
"It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. I’d wake up in the morning and say, 'I’m ready to draw horses.' It was all done by lottery so you would draw what horse you would get, and the herder would help get tack on. And if the horse wasn’t wild, I would get on and ride."
That riding, she says, was typically at a gallop, as racers charged across the grasslands and hills, following a rough track at times—other times using GPS to follow a line on a map.
Riders wore satellite tracking devices, so they could be found if lost or injured.
All of it, she said, was intense.
"Usually 25 miles, 30 to 40 kilometers, then I would go through a vet check and get a new horse, and do that three or four times a day."
At night, she said, riders would sleep in camps or with the horses, or with Mongol families in their yurts.
"They are so generous and so sweet that many nights I stayed in their homes, but I also stayed at the horse station where they were expecting us and had meals.”
Dowling pushed through, and finished on the 10th day of the race, coming in 13th out of the 43 who started.
That final day, she said, was especially memorable, but also carried risk for riders.
"There were a lot of people [who] had injuries the last day, it was easy to let their guard down. But I had a really good horse that last leg, he was a galloper and we just galloped that last 25 Kilometers."
Now home in Maine working at her businesses, Dowling says the Mongol Derby, besides being an unforgettable experience, has helped lead her to another life-changing decision.
She says she is going to sell the cheese business and make a new career with horses.
"I think Fuzzy Udder can have a great life with a new owner," Dowling said, "And I want to pursue working with horses. I think their healing potential is amazing, and I think I have a lot to offer."
Perhaps therapeutic riding or other types of training, she says, or something else. Dowling is confident she will make it work.
"Everyone told me I wouldn’t be able to make a living farming and I did. So I’m going to do it again. Everyone says you can’t make a living with horses, but knowing that I’ve done it—Fuzzy Udder ended up being pretty profitable—I think I can do the same in the equine world. Just give me some time."
As for the Mongol Derby, Dowling said she will definitely go back to Mongolia, a country she has come to love—but not to race.
"To do the race again, it's kind of like climbing Everest twice. You do it and I’ve done it."
But, there is a different derby, in a different remote part of the world.
"So there’s another race put on by the Equestrianists group, in Patagonia, called the Gaucho Derby. And I have to be honest, the day I got back [from Mongolia] I applied. And I got in. So 2025, in the winter, I will be tackling another long-distance horse race."
Dowling smiled and had a quiet laugh. Her adventure with horses, clearly, has just begun.