Dec. 23rd: Tawu Shulma

We woke up to find ourselves just outside the walls of Tawu Shulma, and within direct admiring distance from the Amnye Machen range. There was a small coat of fresh snow, and white mountains stood invitingly in all directions.


Tawu Shulma is a wild place. A frontier town, it sits at the end of a long dirt road and at the base of the Amnye Machen Mountains. Historically a starting point for the Amnye Machen khora route, the outpost is teaming with locals eager to offer horses and yaks. We spent the morning of the 23rd scouting the mountains and making arrangements for travel into the more snowy regions.


In the afternoon we made our way into the village center to play pool and finalize our travel details.


And of course, exchange curious stares with the local folks.

Dec. 19th: The Road to Amnye Machen

After a night of thick snow we rose early for the bus which would carry us to Kandze and then ultimately on to Yushu. Riding in a new bus, we quicly climbe from the Kangding valley and crossed the first snowy pass just before sunrise. Fresh white painted the Khampan stone houses and lined the rivers. Again we crossed large expanses of dry plateau, arriving in Kandze by sunset.


The evening light revealed fresh snow in the mountains surounding Kandze. Having traveled so far, we all agreed to that a day on the skiis was in order. Again we awoke before dawn in preparation, and by mid-morning we were driving across the beautiful valley. It was a clear day, and with our backpacks loaded, we anticipated this, our first day on Asian snow.


The driver dropped us off at the base of a long ridge, which would lead us up to the skiable terrain scoped in the previous evening. Our switch from truck to skis did not go unnoticed, and curious locals soon surrounded us. They pointed to our skis and poles with wonder, and fiddled with our boots in curiousity. Brian strapped on the tele skis and gave an excellent demonstration, to the enjoyment of us all. Anxious to get moving, we said goodbye to our awestruck companions, and headed up the ridge. The day was warm, and if felt great to be moving. While most of the day was spent in climbing, we stopped for a beautiful lunch, and then began a gradual retreat to the village below. After all we had a tea date with our new friends, and the dependability of our drivers return was in question.


The next day we pushed northward across expansive dry plains peppered with nomadic herdsman and small villages. The air became decidedly dryer, and settlements fewer. Small adobe houses, with large south facing windows, and mounds of drying yak doung flew by outside windows while I laughed with the other travelers.


Spending a quick night in a Yushu government Hotel gave us showers and another fantastic Muslim dinner. The next morning we left for Tawu Shulma via private car. Just outside the city we stopped to walk khora before beginning another full day of travel.


We passed through more arid planes, but the sky soon turned grey and our speed was slowed by icy roads and blowing snow. By sunset we had reached Madoi, where we joined a lively group of Chinese Government workers for dinner.


By 10 Pm we reached a very dark end of the road. "So if you don't need us anymore, we're going to leave now," were the skeptical departing words of our drivers, and although we knew we had reached the right place, our whereabouts were still a little in question.

-McNair

Dec. 18th: In Search of the Heavenly Nectar

The bowl of wine in my hand has a long history.
The sky is blue like jade.
The blue-jade dragon roars in the sky.
The lightning flashes red,
And drizzle falls like sweet dew.
By using the clean sweet dew,
Heavenly nectar can be brewed in the human world.

- King Gesar, Tibetan Warrior King/Poet
(on precipitation)

Tibetan Boarderlands is on the move and continuing north. Tomorrow - venturing deep from the road that connects Qinghai's Yushu and Xining - we will first set our eyes upon the great Amnye Machen and surrounding range. Thousands of years ago, King Gesar once tied his horse here amidst these majestic peaks. And in the 1920s Dr. Joseph Rock, a Westerner - and one of the region's most prolific foreign explorers - reported that it was the highest mountain ever at over 30,000 feet. It turns out he was wrong.

With unparalled prowess, Amnye Machen continues to exist as one of the most sacred pilgrimage sites for Tibetan Buddhist and Bon followers alike. As predicted and carried in our hopes, this great route of pilgrimage will bring us nearly 90 miles in circumnavigation of this range. We've been told that the region holds many cruelties during this time of year. To those who inhabit the area, we should do as they do and 'come back in the summer.'

As we push ahead on this journey, we leave Tibetan Kham and enter Tibetan Amdo, passing through the most wild and uncharted lands of these border provinces. We expect to sight the prominent Amnye Machen after multiple days' direct overland travel, and we look forward to spending Christmas within its presence: cold on the outside, warm on the inside...greeting each day in search of THE Heavenly Nectar.

Feliz Navidades, and we'll be seeing you in the new year.

Dec. 18th: Boskoff and Fowler Missing

We have recently learned that US climbers, Christine Boskoff and Charlie Fowler, are missing somewhere within these southwestern provinces. Troubled by the news, we will continue to think about them during this unfortunate time. Although unable to track down any information regarding their whereabouts, we are hoping to help shed light on what may have happened and where they may be.

Our thoughts and prayers go out to their friends and families back home, as well as all those involved worldwide.

-Ryan, McNair, & Brian

Dec. 17th: Kangding Rendezvous

Ryan & I yakked it to Kangding for a happy reunion with Brian, fresh in from Chengdu. On the way I enjoyed endless second-hand cigarette smoke and deep conversation about life's meaning with our fellow Khampan travel companions.



Seeing Gault was simply a relief. Prior to his arrival our purpose had been to gather information for this culmination of team energy and efforts. Finally united, Tibetan Boarderlands enjoyed the morning Kangding sun and discussed our next move.



- McNair

Dec. 15th: Reconnaissance ala Manigango

We rose like we wanted to ride the public bus that morning. And we did. We were pushing deeper northwest to the outpost town of Manigango, at the very eastern end of the Sichuan-Tibet Highway North, and we were looking to travel for a mere 30 RMB. Knowing that the left-hand seats would offer the most magnificent view of the forthcoming suspended range, we even deposited our bags on the bus early...in anticipation, never foreseeing that the bus would roll away without us, snagged by the government. 'The bus is no longer running. The government will use it.' We tracked down the bus - with our bags - a few hundred meters from the station. We would be cruising via private transport.

The morning was crisp - actually, unbelievably cold - but the sight of Kandze's 5500 plus-meter peaks snagging early morning rays was just about enough to warm things up. The instant coffee was also fine (the Java Juice will have to wait until we're in the thick of it). Reconnaissance was the mission, and the great ranges of this area provided just the inspiration.



This area is amazing. And we were more than fully content cruising beneath this range's craggy heights. The morning sun stretched long as it illuminated eastern aspects of great pinnacles and textured mud walls of valley floor village homes. Manigango - one of this country's last few true frontier towns - was soon upon us.

...motorcycles to the top of a 5050 meter, snow-encrusted pass. We loved tromping this place (and our bikes only deposited us hard once, maybe twice). On the way down, I wasn't sure if I had hands or just wrists. Even more impressive was JanTu's (who drove my bike) cold tolerance -- due to the cloud of cigarette smoke in this Yushu cyber cafe, we had to tag off, and you now hear from McNair. I think I could do an entire photographic cultural study on these dens of cyber lust and gluttony, but that's a new post. At any rate please forgive the style and perspective change.



That night we stayed in the house of our two motorcycle guides. They live at the base of Chola pass and their hospitality dwarfs the 6000 meter peaks that bow outside their front door. These people gave us food and rest to an extent I've very little experienced in other places. When I woke with the morning light through the window, a grandson was awake, head propped on his grandfather, looking across this main room watching. There was no doubt that the interest was mutual, and equal respect likewise.



Having decided this front yard as a possible entry point for our first major backcountry mission, I felt the long dark hair of JanTu across my face while motoring into town. After discussing our ideas, and learning of the slight snow cover in the deep range, it became obvious that our focus must be redirected. We sat for a lunch of delicious momos and butter tea, then hired a car to Muru-la Pass.



Rising into this land, we thought it another self-plotted khora option. We crossed a stuck mini-bus and gave our best push. Feelings of accomplishment otherwise were scarce. "There's just not enough snow," we knew, and our sites moved to the Gonga Range, high above Kangding. Brian would be arriving two days later, and a team meeting there seemed the best. This more easterly range seemed to hold new possibities, and our reconnocence mission backed down the path of the mighty Angry Yak.

Ryan & McNair

Dec. 12th: Kandze

After two days of second-hand smoke and futuristic kungfu movies, the Angry Yak came to a final rest in Kandze, or Ganzi as often spelled. The valley pass had been socked in, and light snow continued to fall as we unloaded our bags. Rejoicing, we wheeled our load through snowy streets and interested faces.



Maroon-clad Buddhist monks, chuba-draped Khampa men, quick-stepped and smoking teenagers; all stopped, captivated by this sight.

Equally, I was struck by this, my first real taste of Khampa culture. I had a glimpse in Kangding and over the past two days bounced by villages and monasteries. Now we were in it, surrounded by colorful chubas, tall square shoulders, and deep brown eyes. "Tashidelek" ... I'd better start practicing it.

The snow continued.



We woke the next morning to fresh white streets and cerulean skies. Prayer flags and colorful Tibetan architecture shined, fresh highlights. A walk through town led us to the river for morning coffe and sun. Our eyes rested on peaks before us, while our minds explored the adventures to come.



This day of rest after such long travel was well needed. We spent the afternoon at a local monastery spinning prayer wheeles and sharing smiles with those present.


- McNair