An Unconventional Journey Through Western Sichuan and Northwestern Yunnan

On September 21, 2018, we departed from Wuhan and returned on October 7. Four cars, sixteen people, covered 5,700 kilometers over 17 days, journeying through the stunning landscapes of western Sichuan and Yunnan. What made this trip different was that we not only visited the classic western Sichuan spots—Daocheng Yading, Shangri-La, Seda, Jiaju Tibetan Village, and Hailuogou—but also explored Yunnan’s Dali Shuanglang, Lijiang’s Shuhe Ancient Town, and Lugu Lake. Another reason: the trip was full of unexpected events, completely unlike our usual smooth travels, providing plenty of lessons to reflect on.

Since it’s different, I’ll change my writing approach this time and record things in chronological order.

Day 1: September 21, 2018

Wuhan – Enshi, 510 km, roughly 7 hours of driving (according to Amap under normal conditions; with our large group and many cars, we usually added about 1.5 hours, same below). We stayed at Enshi Daughter City. With 16 people needing 8 rooms and the Golden Week holiday, all rooms were booked nearly a month in advance on Ctrip. The upside was no need to hunt for accommodation on the spot; the downside: any unexpected delay could disrupt the schedule, as altering bookings was tough, and sometimes we even rushed just to make the reserved rooms.

Enshi Tujia Daughter City blends pseudo-classic architecture with Tujia stilted buildings, showcasing the folk customs of the Tujia people. It's home to over a hundred shops and guesthouses, plus dozens of restaurants serving local food and snacks. As our first stop, it was very convenient for eating and lodging.

Day 2: September 22, 2018

Enshi – Chengdu, 620 km, about 8.5 hours’ drive. Arriving in the evening, we first visited Jinli and had dinner there. I've been to Chengdu five or six times; it's one of my favorite cities. Jinli isn't really my cup of tea—a bit like our Hubu Alley in Wuhan, with lots of snacks concentrated in one place, but not necessarily authentic or great-tasting. Still, for first-time visitors to Chengdu, a stroll there is fine.

Day 3: September 23, 2018

In the morning, we wandered around Kuanzhai Alley. After lunch, we departed from Chengdu for Xichang, 450 km, about 6 hours’ drive. Xichang is a city built because of the satellite launch center—small, clean, and much nicer compared to Jiuquan.

Day 4: September 24, 2018

Xichang – Daluoshui Village at Lugu Lake, 260 km, about 6.5 hours’ drive. We had booked lake-view rooms, so right from our balconies we could see Lugu Lake—soul-soothing. The guesthouse owner was half a Wuhan native; her husband teaches at a university in Wuhan, and she runs this inn here. Stepping out the back door, there's a garden with a path leading straight to the lake.

Sichuan’s highway construction in recent years is truly impressive. It’s hard to imagine how difficult travel was before all these expressways existed—no wonder the ancients said: ‘The road to Shu is harder than climbing to heaven.’ We drove down from the highway above, feeling like we were riding through clouds.

The Walking Marriage Bridge lies on the east side of Lugu Lake, spanning the grassy sea swaying with reeds—a famous sight around the lake. The local Mosuo people practice the walking marriage custom— ‘men do not marry, women do not wed’—and the bridge is the route men take to visit their lovers, hence it's also called ‘the Magpie Bridge’. About 300 meters long, the bridge is flanked by vast reed beds growing in the grassy sea water. Walking across, your eyes are filled with fresh, vivid green scenery. Because of its association with love, couples often stroll hand-in-hand there, savoring the ancient romance of the Mosuo.

Daluoshui Village (also known as Daluo Village) sits by Lugu Lake on the Lijiang side, one of the earliest developed villages around the lake. It has well-equipped facilities with plenty of inns and shops, plus convenient transport to other lakeside spots. The village is steeped in Mosuo culture, making it a popular base for visitors.

Lugu Lake feels serene and unhurried—perfect for a few days of relaxing, daydreaming alone, or chatting with friends. The back garden of our inn; just follow the path and you reach the lake. Sitting on our balcony, the view was stunning. We even caught the sunrise in the morning.

Day 5: September 25, 2018

Lugu Lake – Shuanglang, 390 km, about 6 hours’ drive.

Shuanglang Town sits on the northeastern shore of Erhai Lake, northeast of Dali city, right by the rippling waters of Erhai with distant views of the Cangshan’s nineteen peaks—a concentration of Cangshan and Erhai’s finest scenery. On sunny days, sunlight filtering through clouds reflects on the lake with the backdrop of the rolling Cangshan range—a dream scene for photographers. When we visited, the weather wasn't cooperating; dark clouds loomed, and sunlight came and went. Though we missed the most beautiful moments, we saw another side of Erhai Lake.

News reports say Erhai has suffered severe pollution in recent years; after a few years of cleanup, it’s improved a bit, but the overall environmental planning still needs work. In some lakeside spots, garbage piles up, and guesthouses and restaurants dump wastewater directly into the lake. Such a splendid scenic resource—if not well protected and utilized, it would be a terrible loss if ruined.

We found a roadside restaurant during the drive and had lunch there. ‘Xia Guan wind, Shang Guan flowers, Cangshan snow, Erhai moon’—these are the ‘wind, flowers, snow, moon’ four great sights of Dali. The rooftop of our guesthouse had hanging basket chairs—sitting there, you face Erhai Lake. The rooftop had a really nice atmosphere too.

Day 6: September 26, 2018

Dali Shuanglang – Lijiang Shuhe Ancient Town, 200 km, about 2.5 hours’ drive.

Shuhe Ancient Town is located northwest of Lijiang Old Town, once a key stop on the Ancient Tea Horse Road. Nestled by hills and water, its layout resembles that of Dayan Old Town—houses in pleasant disarray, with streams murmuring through the lanes, creating a lovely environment. The rare plus: because tourism development came later, Shuhe is much quieter and more rustic than Dayan. So I chose to stay here. There's plenty of info about Lijiang online, so I'll skip the details and just post photos.

This is the courtyard of the inn where we stayed—pretty nice. The small-town vendor's ingredients were so fresh. Here, a break with coffee and music was just right. Unknown flowers blooming, clear water flowing.

Day 7: September 27, 2018

Shuhe Ancient Town – Shangri-La City, 180 km, about 3.5 hours’ drive, with a stop to visit Tiger Leaping Gorge. Once in Diqing (Shangri-La City), we also explored Dukezong Ancient City.

Tiger Leaping Gorge (Lijiang section) is famous for its depth and danger, with upper, middle, and lower sections. The part in Yulong County, Lijiang, is Upper Tiger Leaping. Because the gorge is narrow, the water drops dramatically. Watching the river pound against the Tiger Leaping Stone in midstream is spectacular. From here, we entered beautiful Shangri-La.

This simple, uninspiring welcome stone seemed lacking in grandeur. Dukezong Ancient City is in the southeast corner of Shangri-La County in Diqing Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, built during the Tubo Dynasty in the Tang era. ‘Dukezong’ means ‘moonlight city’ and ‘castle built on stone’ in Tibetan. The city hugs the hillside, with flagstone lanes following the terrain's contours. Even today, you can see horse hoofprints on the old stones—relics from the ancient caravans. The layout resembles an eight-petaled lotus, with Moonlight Square at the center, surrounded by traditional Tibetan wooden buildings where locals live peacefully. West of the square is Daguishan (Turtle Hill Park), capped by the world’s largest prayer wheel, recorded in the Guinness World Records. It takes three people pushing together to turn it.

Day 8: September 28, 2018

Shangri-La City – Shangri-La Town, 310 km, about 7 hours’ drive. Today we hit the first unexpected mishap of the trip. Our plan was to follow National Routes 214 and 215 to Shangri-La Town, but when we checked the navigation in the morning, the road was closed due to a landslide. No one could say how long it would take to reopen. We couldn’t wait, so we had to find another route. Amap showed an alternative Provincial Road 217, which would take about 13 hours. Baidu Maps, on the other hand, showed the original 214 and 215 as passable (proving just how unreliable Baidu can be). We asked the hotel staff to help confirm the situation, and the repeated answer was that National Route 214 was blocked, and Provincial Road 217 was in terrible condition with some sections of landslides and road repairs. Three of our four cars were sedans—this would be no easy drive.

For me, it was a tough call. Not leaving wasn’t an option, or we’d have to cancel all subsequent room reservations—nearly impossible to rebook during the Golden Week holiday. But going seemed just as bad. With so many people and cars, on a pothole-riddled mountain road with the risk of rockfalls, landslides, even mudslides, it was very dangerous. Could our cars survive dozens of kilometers of bomb-crater-like roads plus gravel tracks? Despite my own two decades of driving experience, some companions had little long-distance driving, let alone experience on such dangerous roads.

After an intense inner struggle, I decided to take the provincial road. I instructed the four cars to maintain a safe distance, keep the walkie-talkies on, and I would lead, watching conditions and alerting others to stop if needed. Initially, the road was decent and the scenery beautiful. But honestly, I was too preoccupied to enjoy it. I wasn't afraid, but I was definitely tense.

The good times didn’t last, and good roads didn't return. The real test of driving skill and nerves began. Of course, to avoid panicking the others, I acted calm and composed on the surface—tight inside, relaxed outside. This road wasn’t even the worst; some potholes were deeper, forcing us to crawl at 5–10 km/h, carefully navigating tires over the highest rocks. Often, the sedan’s undercarriage scraped against stones or gravel. You couldn’t baby the car then—getting through safely was all that mattered. In some landslide areas, only one vehicle could pass, and oncoming traffic was a major headache. Fortunately, the road had very few cars. I kept scanning ahead, especially for falling rocks. We sped through risky sections without lingering. I'd cross wet or landslide-prone spots first, then guide the others. Occasionally, a few SUVs or off-road vehicles passed us, drivers rolling down windows, giving thumbs-ups and shouting, ‘Come on, guys!’ We seized the chance to ask about road conditions ahead and estimated travel times.

After 13 grueling hours, we finally reached Shangri-La Town, settled into our lodgings, grabbed a meal, and slept. Tomorrow awaited a mountain over 4,000 meters.

Day 9: September 29, 2018

Shangri-La Town – Daocheng Yading scenic area, 76 km, about 1.5 hours. We set off in the morning and spent the whole day at Yading. Worried that staying in Yading Village could trigger altitude sickness, we booked accommodation in Daocheng for the night.

Seeing the beauty of Daocheng Yading, all the previous day’s exhaustion vanished. Daocheng Yading, or Yading Nature Reserve, lies south of Daocheng County in Ganzi Prefecture. It’s centered around three sacred mountains—Chenrezig, Jambeyang, and Chanadorje—along with surrounding rivers, lakes, and alpine meadows. It’s one of China’s most well-preserved natural ecosystems. Because of its unique landscape and pristine wilderness, some call it the last pure land on the blue planet.

In the area, you’ll find magnificent, sacred snow peaks, vast meadows, forests in a riot of colors, and crystal-clear turquoise lakes. Almost all the beauty of the snow-covered plateau converges here—everything is enchanting. Like the devout local Tibetans, hiking the kora is the best way to experience Yading’s charm, though at high altitude, the whole trek demands considerable stamina.

Our group split three ways: a few, struggling with energy or altitude sickness, rested and took photos at Luorong Pasture; five decided to push on to Milk Lake and Five-Color Lake; the others and I walked slowly, prepared to reach the lakes if possible or turn back—considering not just stamina but mostly time. We had to catch the shuttle bus back to the parking lot and then to the gate, or face camping on the mountain overnight. When my friend and I realized time was too tight, we turned back. Milk Lake and Five-Color Lake would have to wait for next time.

If you visit this scenic area, remember to bring your own lunch and water. We had bought self-heating meals, bottled water, and Snickers for everyone. Walking at high altitude is exhausting, so having food you like is essential. Even during yesterday’s rush, we had stopped for lunch by the roadside in a wide, safe spot.

At over 4,000 meters, I had no altitude sickness. But two incidents in the latter half of the day gave me a severe case of ‘mental altitude sickness’. First: on our way back, Sister Zhang, one of our group, slipped on some stairs and fractured her arm. Companions who were already at the parking lot rushed her to the nearest hospital. Local medical facilities were limited, and with the holiday approaching, there was no orthopedic specialist, so they could only give temporary care. That night, the pain was unbearable, and it was clear she couldn’t continue. We decided she and her husband would fly back to Wuhan for treatment.

Second: while those of us who returned early were waiting at the parking lot, the other five should have been back by then. When we tried reaching them, one person was missing, and her phone was unreachable. My head felt like it would explode. As time passed, my worry as organizer intensified. Everyone had phones, and there was normally signal here; they’d been told to bring power banks to stay connected. So why no contact? Losing contact made me fear something had happened. Already had one accident; we couldn’t afford another. I sent her husband to the first meeting point and asked someone else to check if the service center could make an announcement. I had to get to the parking lot to check on Sister Zhang’s condition. The mix of anxiety and stress nearly did me in. Eventually, she returned alone safely, but we'd worried for over an hour! How could she lose contact? Still puzzling.

Three lessons here: 1. Always prioritize safety on trips. 2. Buy insurance when road-tripping. 3. In a group, everyone must keep communication lines open.

Day 10: September 30, 2018

Daocheng County – Ganzi County, 410 km, about 7 hours’ drive, passing through Litang, the ‘high city of the world’. Overnight in Ganzi.

The drive from Daocheng to Ganzi was all scenic, with good roads—the beauty swept away yesterday’s gloom. This was a true ‘sun and moon shining together’ moment—nearly noon and a bright moon was high in the sky.

In Litang, we found this restaurant for lunch. Conveniently, right next to it was a small repair shop, so we had all four cars lifted for a check. The vehicles were in much better shape than I’d feared—hardly any damage. Only one car had a slightly torn plastic underguard, probably a quality issue.

Sangdui Village lies north of Daocheng County, 28 km away. A typical Tibetan hamlet, it’s known for its stunning red grassland. Many stop here just to capture the heart-stopping red marsh. Next to the village is a football-field-sized wetland. Every late September or early October, clusters of water plants ignite like fire, blazing red, drawing endless travelers on the Sichuan–Tibet highway. This is the famous Red Grassland, putting little Sangdui in the spotlight.

Before we knew it, we’d crossed a pass at 4,647 meters. This warm-up gave me confidence for a future Tibet trip. It was our first experience of everyone getting off for security checks with ID cards. At the city gate of Litang, the high city of the world, we snapped a group photo with people and cars.

Day 11: October 1, 2018

Ganzi County – Seda Larung Gar Buddhist Academy, 230 km, about 4 hours’ drive. Due to the National Day holiday, rooms were tight and prices sky-high, so we’d booked accommodation at Wengda 318 Camp, about 65 km (1 hour) from Seda.

Seda, for that touch of red in the heart… nothing but awe. Seda Larung Gar Buddhist Academy is nestled in a valley about 20 km southeast of Seda county seat, surrounded by rolling mountains. Centered on the main assembly hall, thousands of tiny red wooden huts cling to the slopes like a dense beehive, a sea of crimson stretching undulating far and wide—truly spectacular.

The entire academy is vast, with many paths to explore at will. From the hillside southwest of the prayer wheel—draped in prayer flags—you can overlook the whole complex and capture its full view. Inside those simple dwellings dwell souls of faith.

This was our accommodation in Wengda, built in strong Tibetan style, though a bit basic: drafty windows, shared bathrooms, and some rooms might not have electric blankets. The setting of the camp was great; staying in those mini cabins felt quirky and fun. The container-converted rooms were also distinctive. Far fewer guests than Seda, so during holidays when rooms are scarce, going a little farther can save you from tight bookings. One fellow traveler mentioned a friend in Seda that night paid 1,000 yuan for an ordinary guesthouse. Triple the price is common during Golden Week, so booking early is wise. Sitting outside the hotel, basking in the sun.

Day 12: October 2, 2018

Wengda – Jiaju Tibetan Village, 300 km, about 6 hours’ drive. Overnight in Jiaju.

On the way, it suddenly snowed heavily. Yaks in the heavy snow. Once over the snowy mountain, the weather cleared up beautifully.

Jiaju Tibetan Village lies in Danba County, Ganzi Prefecture, about 8 km from the county seat. It's a classic example of Gyalrong Tibetan village architecture. ‘Jiaju’ means ‘hundred households’ in Tibetan, and true to its name, on a hillside with nearly a thousand meters of elevation difference, one-by-one Tibetan-style houses scatter among green trees, dotted with curls of chimney smoke and peach blossoms—serene and charming. Usually, each household has one home, facing south, made of wood and stone. The wooden frames and eaves are painted red, with walls whitewashed or a natural white mix. Before each Spring Festival, locals repaint the walls with local ‘white clay’ as per custom, cloaking the entire village in pristine white.

For a spectacular panorama, view the village from the opposite hillside. Once inside, you only see individual houses. Most are 3 or 4 stories: the ground floor for livestock, then a cooking room, living quarters, shrine, and sometimes a watchtower, with some having balconies. The white walls are adorned with sun, moon, stars, and religious motifs—beautiful and striking.

This was our stay: Danba Brothers’ Home Guesthouse. Their Tibetan-style meals were also good; our room rate included dinner and next day’s breakfast. There are no restaurants in the village, so if not staying there, bring your own food or eat back in Danba town.

Day 13: October 3, 2018

Jiaju Tibetan Village – Kangding, 160 km, about 4 hours’ drive. Our plan was to visit Paoma Mountain and Mugecuo scenic areas, then overnight in Kangding.

Another unexpected event today, but this time it was ‘an act of heaven’. The previous night, a sudden heavy snowstorm hit Zheduo Mountain near Kangding, stranding thousands of vehicles. Police imposed traffic restrictions to ease congestion: Kangding could only exit, not enter, to prevent worse jams. Detouring would mean worse roads and longer driving, which would mean missing the beautiful autumn scenery at Xinduqiao and the exhilarating Zheduo Mountain winding road (already planning a Tibet trip next year, so that regret can be remedied). But that wasn't the biggest issue: we had booked two nights at the Kangding Kawala Hotel, non-cancellable, with over 8,200 yuan on the line!

At the roadblock into Kangding, I spoke with the police. At first, they firmly refused entry. While we parked by the roadside, I noticed they let a few cars through occasionally. So I tried again, showing them my Ctrip booking info, explaining we couldn't cancel and would suffer huge losses. After some pitiful pleading, they finally agreed to let our four cars enter Kangding. Then it was nonstop traffic—stop-start, thousands of cars trying to come out, blocked by snow, so they couldn’t get out, and we couldn’t get in. But at least we had a chance. No matter how late, we’d reach the hotel. At just after 7 p.m., we finally arrived.

This was one of many long traffic jams; the fourth car coming from the opposite direction still had thick, unmelted snow on top. Some cars were completely snow-covered. They’d been stuck on Zheduo Mountain, cold and hungry. Compared to them, our 7–8 hours of jams weren't so bad—there was water and instant noodles sold by the roadside.

Day 14: October 4, 2018

Kangding town – Hailuogou, 75 km, about 1.5 hours’ drive. Still staying in Kangding.

The snow on the rooftops told how heavy it had been the day before. Such heavy snow so early in Kangding is rare, and we just happened to catch it.

Hailuogou is in southeastern Ganzi, with two main attractions: hot springs and glaciers. The springs are mostly at Camp 2, with many pools of various sizes and shapes, built into the hillside tier upon tier. For glacier views, head to Camp 3, nestled amid primeval forest and snowy peaks—a great spot for seeing the ‘sunshine over the golden mountain’.

Hailuogou Red Stone Beach is in the Yajiagang Two Rivers area of the scenic zone, dubbed ‘the world’s red stone park’. The red stones are not only mysterious but also unique worldwide. Thanks to Hailuogou’s uniquely humid, moist climate and mineral elements like manganese that nourish an orange algae, the rocks are coated with this red substance—a microorganism that thrives in this alpine environment, creating a strange spectacle. According to the Chinese Academy of Sciences, it's a filamentous green alga called Trentepohlia jolithus, whose vivid blood-red color comes from astaxanthin in its cells.

My first close encounter with a glacier. Examining exactly what the microorganisms are. Cars must give way to animals—otherwise you can’t afford the compensation. Same as our road trip in Yellowstone in 2014.

Day 15: October 5, 2018

Kangding – Suining, 430 km, about 5.5 hours’ drive. The return journey began. After nearly two weeks on the road, everyone was tired, so we stopped in Suining for the night to avoid overly exhausting driving. (If there are fewer people or cars and you’re still energetic, the later trip can be shortened; similarly, the early part could have been compressed by a day or two.)

Day 16: October 6, 2018

Suining – Enshi, 450 km, about 6 hours’ drive. Another day of heading home.

Day 17: October 7, 2018

Enshi – Wuhan, 520 km, about 7 hours’ drive. We got home safely.

Oh, and the companion with the fractured arm underwent rehab after returning to Wuhan; no surgery, just conservative treatment, and she has mostly recovered, though nerve function hasn’t fully restored yet. The companion who temporarily ‘lost contact’ in Yading received a call in Kangding that her mother had passed away. That very day, she and her husband drove back to Wuhan ahead of schedule.