Over the time that followed, I've learned two things. One: my little Hamham REALLY likes her wheel! And two: humans (i.e. myself), are infinitely more trainable than hamsters. All my attempts to hand-tame the new critter seemed to amount to was holding a desperately squirming little fuzzball as she first attempted to wriggle free, then emptied her cheek pouches of all the seeds she'd been hoarding there, in an attempt to become slimmer, and therefore more effective at wriggling free, then finally starting to chirp in terror and desperation, while peeing and pooping herself the whole time. Had I been a child, I would probably have happily ignored every sign of her distress, and, at some point, finally persuaded her that I wasn't trying to have her for lunch. However, having developed a bleeding heart as an adult, I couldn't stand torturing the poor thing for long. Result: one tamed human has restricted hamster-handling to a minimum necessary to maintain a clean cage. The Hamham had her revenge, too, running in her wheel so much every night, that it was sliding all around the cage and banging on the sides (and conveniently keeping me awake) until I finally figured out how to mount it on the wall of the plexiglass cage (at least that stopped the banging, though she still runs in it all night every night, and I can still hear it). Nowadays, before turning in, I look in on her, watch her bounce in her beloved wheel, and tell her: "That's right, run-a-way-way little Hamham! Quick! Run back home to Mongolia!"
That got me wondering: Roborovski hamsters hail from the Goby Desert and the surrounding areas. If her little wheel wasn't securely fastened to the side of her cage, could she run all the way to her native Mongolia? There are, of course, a few oceans in the way, probably a couple of mountain ranges, but what the hell, even "as the crow flies" (or hamster runs, as it may be), could she make it to Mongolia if there was a straight line path to follow, minus the obstacles?
Nothing to do for it, but figure it out.