A Different Journey through Western Sichuan and Northwestern Yunnan

Day 1: September 21, 2018

Wuhan – Enshi, 510 km, about 7 hours’ drive (this is the normal driving time shown on Amap; since we had many people and cars, we usually add about 1.5 hours – the same applies below). We stayed in Enshi Nü'er Cheng (since there were 16 people needing 8 rooms and it was the National Day Golden Week, all rooms had been booked about a month in advance on Ctrip. The upside was no need to search for accommodation on the spot; the downside was we couldn’t afford any unexpected delays, otherwise changes would be difficult, and sometimes we even rushed our schedule just because rooms were booked). Enshi Nü'er Cheng combines faux-antique architecture with Tujia stilted buildings, reflecting Tujia folk customs. Here, over a hundred shops and inns cluster together, alongside dozens of restaurants serving local specialties and tasty snacks. As our first stop on this trip, it was very convenient for dining and lodging.

Day 2: September 22, 2018

Enshi – Chengdu, 620 km, about 8.5 hours’ drive. In the evening we visited Jinli for a stroll and dinner. I’ve been to Chengdu five or six times; it’s one of my favorite cities. Jinli isn’t really my kind of place to wander – it’s a bit like Hubu Alley in Wuhan: lots of snack stalls clustered together, but they’re not necessarily authentic and the taste may not be great. Still, for first-time visitors to Chengdu, it’s worth a look.

Day 3: September 23, 2018

In the morning we strolled around Kuanzhai Alley. After lunch we set off from Chengdu to Xichang, 450 km, about a 6-hour drive. Xichang is a city essentially built around its satellite launch center; it’s small and clean. Compared to Jiuquan, it’s much more pleasant.

Day 4: September 24, 2018

Xichang – Lugu Lake (Daluoshui Village), 260 km, about 6.5 hours’ drive. We had booked a lakeside room with a view; from the balcony we could gaze right over Lugu Lake – a feast for the eyes. The guesthouse owner was half-Wuhannese; her husband taught at a university in Wuhan while she ran this inn here. A back door opened onto a garden, with a path leading straight down to the lake.

Sichuan’s highway construction in recent years is truly impressive. It’s hard to imagine how tough travel must have been without all these expressways or good roads. No wonder the ancients said: ‘The road to Shu is harder than climbing to the sky.’ We had just driven down from that very expressway, feeling as if we were threading through clouds and mist among the mountains.

Walking Marriage Bridge lies on the eastern side of Lugu Lake, stretching across a grassy sea of swaying reeds, and is a well-known scenic spot around the lake. The local Mosuo people follow the tradition of ‘walking marriage’, where men neither marry nor do women marry in the conventional sense; instead, during courtship the man crosses this bridge to the woman’s home, earning it the nickname ‘Magpie Bridge’.

The bridge is about 300 meters long, flanked by vast reed beds rising from the lake. Walking across, you’re surrounded by refreshing green scenery. Because the bridge is linked to Mosuo love customs, many couples treat it as a lovers’ bridge. Pairs of visitors walk it hand in hand, soaking up the ancient romance of the Mosuo.

Daluoshui Village (also called Daluoshui) lies on the Lijiang side of Lugu Lake, one of the earliest developed villages around the lake. It’s well equipped with plenty of guesthouses and shops, and easy transport links to lakeside sights. The village still retains a strong Mosuo flavor, making it a popular accommodation base for Lugu Lake visitors.

Lugu Lake itself has a calm, unhurried feel, ideal for a short stay – perfect for daydreaming alone or chatting with a few friends.

In the back garden of our guesthouse, a path led right to the lakeshore.

From the balcony of our room, we could enjoy beautiful views.

Waking up early, we even caught the sunrise.

Day 5: September 25, 2018

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

Shuanglang Town sits on the northeastern shore of Erhai Lake, in the northeast of Dali City, right next to the rippling waters of Erhai with a distant view of the Cangshan Mountain’s 19 peaks – a place where the essence of Cangshan and Erhai scenery converges. On sunny days, sunlight breaks through clouds and sparkles on the lake, with the rolling Cangshan range as a backdrop, a favorite shot for photography enthusiasts. When we visited, the weather wasn’t very cooperative: thick clouds, only occasional sunshine. Although we missed the classic picture-perfect scene, we saw another face of Erhai.

I’d seen on TV that Erhai has suffered from serious pollution in recent years. After a few years of treatment it’s a bit better now, but stronger environmental planning is still needed. In some spots by the lake, rubbish piles up, and guesthouses and restaurants discharge wastewater directly into the lake. It would be a terrible pity to ruin such beautiful natural resources instead of protecting and utilizing them properly.

Along the drive, we came across a roadside restaurant and had lunch there.

The ‘Wind of Xiaguan, Flowers of Shangguan, Snow on Cangshan, and Moon over Erhai’ make up the four famous scenic elements of Dali, known as ‘Wind, Flowers, Snow, Moon’.

On the rooftop of our guesthouse there was a hanging basket chair, facing Erhai Lake.

The rooftop was thoughtfully decorated, adding to the atmosphere.

Day 6: September 26, 2018

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

Shuhe Ancient Town lies northwest of Lijiang’s Old Town and was an important post on the old Tea Horse Road. Nestled between hills and water, its layout resembles that of Dayan Ancient Town, with well-arranged houses and flowing streams in lanes – a lovely environment. Because tourism development here started later, Shuhe is far more peaceful and rustic than Dayan. So, I chose to stay here. There’s plenty about Lijiang online; I’ll just let the photos speak for themselves.

This was the courtyard of our guesthouse – quite nice.

The fresh ingredients sold by a vendor in the old town.

Stopping here for a coffee and some music was also a delight.

Unknown flowers bloomed, and clear water gurgled by.

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 en route. Once in Diqing (Shangri-La City), we visited the Dukezong Ancient Town.

Tiger Leaping Gorge (Lijiang section) is famed for its depth and danger, divided into Upper, Middle, and Lower sections. The part in Yulong County, Lijiang, belongs to the Upper Gorge. Because the canyon is narrow, the water drop is dramatic. Watching the river pound against the Tiger Leaping Rock in midstream was spectacular. From here, we officially entered beautiful Shangri-La.

The welcome stone looked rather unassuming and plain.

Dukezong Ancient Town lies in the southeast corner of Shangri-La County, Diqing Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, built during the Tubo dynasty in the Tang era. ‘Dukezong’ is a Tibetan pronunciation, meaning ‘Moonlight City’ and ‘castle built on stone’. The town climbs the mountain, with flagstone roads laid following the terrain, naturally undulating. To this day, you can still make out horseshoe imprints on the stones, mementos left by ancient caravans.

The town’s layout resembles an eight-petaled lotus, with Moonlight Square at the center. Charming old Tibetan wooden houses ring the square, where locals lead quiet lives. West of the square stands Turtle Mountain, also called Guishan Park; at its peak is 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 – Xianggelila Town, 310 km, about 7 hours’ drive. Today we encountered the first unexpected situation of the trip. Originally, we planned to take National Highways 214 and 215 to Xianggelila Town, but when we checked navigation in the morning, that road was closed due to a landslide. It was unclear how long it would take to repair, so we couldn’t wait. We had to see if any other route was available. Amap showed an alternative Provincial Road 217 that could reach our destination, but it would take about 13 hours. Baidu Maps still indicated the original 214/215 route as passable (which turned out to be completely unreliable). We quickly asked the hotel staff to help inquire about the conditions, and the multiple replies confirmed: National Highway 214 was blocked by a landslide, and Provincial Road 217 was in bad shape, with some sections damaged by landslides and under repair. Three of our four cars were sedans; this road would certainly be tough.

For me, this was a really tough decision. We couldn’t not go – otherwise we’d have to cancel all follow-up hotel reservations, and rebooking during the National Day holiday would be extremely difficult. But going seemed just as problematic: so many people and cars, driving a mountain road riddled with potholes, plus unknown risks of rockfalls, landslides, even mudslides. Could our cars handle dozens of kilometers of potholed roads and gravel tracks? Although I was confident in my 20-plus years of driving experience, some companions hadn’t driven long distances, let alone such dangerous mountain roads.

After a fierce mental struggle, I decided to take the provincial road. I instructed the four cars to keep a safe distance, with walkie-talkies on. I drove at the front, watching out for hazards and alerting the cars behind to stop if necessary.

At first, the road wasn’t bad and the scenery was beautiful – though honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. I wasn’t scared, but I was truly tense.

Good views didn’t last, and soon the good road gave way to a stretch that tested driving skills and nerves. Of course, to avoid worrying everyone, I kept a calm and composed exterior while being tense inside.

This road in the photos wasn’t even the worst. Some sections had deeper pits; we had to crawl at 5–10 km/h, carefully placing the tires over higher rocks. The sedans’ undercarriages frequently scraped against stones and gravel. At such times, you can’t feel sorry for the car – getting through safely was paramount. In some landslide-prone sections, only a single vehicle could pass at a time, and meeting oncoming cars was a real hassle. Fortunately, the road was rough but had very little traffic. As I drove, I constantly scanned for rockfalls above; through dangerous stretches, we sped up and didn’t linger. I also noted road conditions; at landslide areas or wet patches I’d drive through first, then tell the others to follow. Occasionally, a few oncoming vehicles – all SUVs or off-roaders – would roll down their windows, give us thumbs-up, and shout, “Go, buddy!” We seized the chance to ask about road conditions ahead and estimated driving time, giving us some idea of what lay ahead.

After 13 grueling hours, we finally reached Xianggelila Town. We quickly settled in, ate at a nearby restaurant, and went to sleep. Tomorrow, we’d have a mountain over 4,000 meters to climb.

Day 9: September 29, 2018

Xianggelila Town – Daocheng Yading Scenic Area, 76 km, about 1.5 hours. We left in the morning and spent the whole day exploring Yading. Worried that staying in Yading Village might trigger altitude sickness, we had booked accommodation in Daocheng County for the night.

Just looking at the beauty of Yading made all of yesterday’s exhaustion vanish.

Daocheng Yading, also known as Yading Nature Reserve or Yading Scenic Area, lies in the south of Daocheng County, Ganzi Prefecture. It’s mainly composed of three sacred peaks – Xiannairi, Yangmaiyong, and Xianuoduoji – along with surrounding rivers, lakes, and alpine meadows. It’s one of China’s relatively well-preserved natural ecosystems.

Because of its unique terrain and pristine natural scenery, some call it the last pure land on the blue planet.

The area boasts not only majestic, sacred snow mountains but also vast meadows, colorful forests, and crystal-clear alpine lakes. Almost all the beauty of the snow-covered plateau converges here – everything captivates visitors. Like the devout local Tibetans, hiking around the mountains is a wonderful way to experience Yading. However, due to the high altitude, a full trek requires considerable stamina.

Our group split into three. A few people, limited by energy or altitude sickness, stopped after a short walk, resting and taking photos at Luorong Pasture. Five decided to press on to Milk Lake and Five-Color Lake. The rest of us, including me and a few friends, took it slow – if we could make it to those lakes, great; if not, we’d turn back. Besides personal fitness, the main concern was time: we had to catch the eco-bus from the Yading parking lot to the scenic area entrance, otherwise we’d be camping on the mountain. A friend and I went partway, but then realized time was insufficient and turned back. Milk Lake and Five-Color Lake will have to wait for next time.

For anyone visiting this area, remember to bring your own lunch and water. We had bought self-heating meals, bottled water, and Snickers bars for everyone beforehand. At high altitude, even walking consumes energy. Self-driving travelers should definitely pack favorite snacks in the car. The previous day, we had also stopped for lunch by the roadside in a relatively wide and safe spot.

At over 4,000 meters, I didn’t experience any altitude sickness, but in the latter half of the day, two unexpected incidents gave me a serious case of ‘mental altitude sickness’.

First: On the way back, our fellow traveler Sister Zhang slipped on the stairs, fell, and broke her arm. Resting companions at the parking lot quickly took her to the nearest hospital, but local medical facilities were limited. With the National Day holiday approaching, there was no specialist orthopedic doctor on site, so only simple temporary treatment was given. That evening, she was in so much pain that it was clear she couldn’t continue the trip. We decided she and her husband would fly back to Wuhan for treatment.

Second: A group of us had returned to the parking lot earlier. Five others should have been on their way back by our calculations. But when we tried to contact them, we found one person missing and her phone unreachable. At that moment, my head felt like it was going to explode... As time passed, I, as the organizer, became more and more anxious. Everyone had a phone, and normally there’s signal here. We’d told everyone to bring a power bank to keep phones charged, so there shouldn’t have been any loss of contact. The inability to reach her made us fear something had happened. We’d already had one accident; we couldn’t afford another. I arranged for her husband to wait at the first meeting point, and sent another person to the service desk to see if they could make an announcement. I rushed to the parking lot to check on the injured companion. For a while, I was frantic with worry and stress... In the end, she made it back safely alone, but we’d all been worried sick for over an hour. How could she have lost contact? Utterly speechless...

Three lessons learned here: 1. Safety must come first during travel. 2. Always buy insurance for self-driving trips. 3. In group travel, every individual MUST keep communication lines open.

Day 10: September 30, 2018

Daocheng County – Ganzi County, 410 km, about 7 hours’ drive, passing through Litang, the ‘world’s high-altitude city’. Spent the night in Ganzi.

The scenery from Daocheng to Ganzi was beautiful all the way, with good roads. The views dispelled yesterday’s gloom.

This was true ‘sun and moon shining together’ – broad daylight almost noon, yet a bright moon hung in the sky.

En route, we stopped in Litang and found this restaurant for lunch. Conveniently, there was a small repair shop next door, so we had all four cars lifted for an inspection. The condition of the cars was much better than I expected – they were all fine. Only one had a slightly torn plastic under-engine shield, which felt like a quality issue; if the shield had been better, it wouldn’t have ripped.

Sangdui Township lies north of Daocheng County, 28 km from the county seat. Sangdui is a typical Tibetan village with lovely scenery. Its most famous feature is the stunning Red Grass Beach – many people stop here just to photograph that vivid, heart-gripping red. At the edge of the village, a wetland about the size of a football field turns fiery in late September and early October. Clumps of aquatic grass blaze red like fire, attracting countless travelers on the Sichuan-Tibet highway to pause. This is the famous Red Grass Beach, putting tiny Sangdui in the spotlight.

As we drove on, we unknowingly crested a high-altitude pass at 4,647 meters. This warm-up experience gave me confidence for a future trip into Tibet.

First time experiencing a checkpoint where everyone had to get out and present their ID cards.

At the gateway to the ‘world’s high city’ Litang, we took a group photo with our cars.

Day 11: October 1, 2018

Ganzi County – Seda Larung Wuming Buddhist Academy, 230 km, about 4 hours’ drive. Because rooms during the Golden Week were scarce and insanely expensive, we had booked accommodation at the Wengda 318 Campsite, about 65 km (1 hour) from Seda.

Seda – that splash of red I’d been yearning for... nothing but awe, sheer awe.

Seda Larung Wuming Buddhist Academy, or Wuming Buddhist Academy for short, lies about 20 km southeast of Seda County, surrounded by layers of mountains. Centered on the academy’s grand sutra hall, thousands of tiny wooden huts blanket the slopes like a dense ant nest. A sea of crimson-red huts undulates across the hillside, a truly magnificent sight.

The academy area is enormous, with many small paths; you can wander freely. From the prayer-flag-draped slope southwest of the prayer wheel pagoda, you can overlook the entire academy – a perfect spot for capturing the whole panorama.

Inside those simple huts are souls of devotion.

This was where we stayed in Wengda – very much in Tibetan architectural style, though basic: windows didn’t seal well, drafts crept in, bathrooms were shared, and some rooms might not have electric blankets.

The campsite’s environment was still quite nice. Staying in these cute mini rooms was fun.

Rooms converted from shipping containers were also quite unique. There were far fewer guests here than right in Seda. During peak holiday times when rooms are hard to book, driving a little farther can sometimes ease the pressure. According to a companion, a friend of hers happened to be in Seda that day and paid 1,000 yuan for a very ordinary guesthouse. Triple-rate price hikes during the Golden Week are the norm – it’s better to book ahead.

Sitting outside the hotel door, soaking up the sun.

Day 12: October 2, 2018

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

On the way to Jiaju Tibetan Village, it suddenly started snowing heavily.

Yaks in the heavy snow.

After crossing the snowy mountains, the weather cleared up nicely.

Jiaju Tibetan Village is located in Danba County, Ganzi Prefecture, about 8 km from the county seat. It’s a village with strong Gyalrong Tibetan characteristics.

‘Jiaju’ means ‘a hundred households’ in Tibetan, and the name fits. Scattered across a mountainside with nearly a kilometer of elevation difference, Tibetan-style houses nestle amid green trees, dotted here and there. Wispy cooking smoke and clusters of peach blossoms add a tranquil, charming air. Typically, each household has one house, oriented south, constructed of timber and stone. The wooden frames and eaves are painted red, while the walls are white or a mix of original color with white. Every year before the Spring Festival, according to local tradition, house owners repaint the walls using locally sourced ‘white mud’, dressing the entire village in a pure white mantle.

The panoramic view of Jiaju from the hillside opposite is spectacular. Once inside the village, you see only scattered Tibetan buildings. Most are three- or four-story structures; the ground floor houses livestock, with the upper floors holding the ‘guozhuang’ (living) room, living quarters, sutra hall, and watchtower, some even with balconies. The white walls are adorned with paintings of sun, moon, stars, and religious motifs – beautiful and grand.

This was the guesthouse where we stayed in Jiaju: Danba Brother’s Home. Their Tibetan meals were good too. Our room rate included dinner and breakfast the next morning. There are no restaurants in the village, so if you’re not staying here, it’s best to bring your own food or go back to Danba County to eat.

Day 13: October 3, 2018

Jiaju Tibetan Village – Kangding, 160 km, about 4 hours’ drive. The plan was to visit Paoma Mountain and Mugecuo Scenic Area upon arrival, then stay in Kangding overnight.

Another unexpected situation struck, but this time it was ‘an act of nature’. Overnight, heavy snow had fallen on Zheduo Mountain near Kangding. Thousands of self-driving vehicles were stranded there. To ease the pressure, traffic police imposed restrictions on certain road sections: Kangding could be exited but not entered, to prevent even worse congestion. Detouring would mean rough roads and even longer detours, forcing us to skip the beautiful autumn scenery at Xinduqiao and miss the thrilling winding road over Zheduo Mountain (but since we’re already planning a Tibet trip next year, this regret can be compensated). That wasn’t even the biggest issue – we had booked two nights at the Kangding Kawala Hotel, which couldn’t be canceled, and the cost was over 8,200 yuan! At the checkpoint into Kangding, I got out and talked to the police. At first they firmly turned us away. While we parked by the roadside, I noticed occasionally a few cars were let through. I approached the police again, opened the Ctrip app to show our reservation details, explaining that the hotel wouldn’t allow cancellation and we’d suffer a huge loss. After some persistent pleading and cajoling, the police finally allowed our four cars to enter the Kangding direction. Then it was stop-and-go traffic for a long time – thousands of cars needed to exit Kangding, all blocked by the snow; they couldn’t get out, so we couldn’t get in. But at least hope remained of reaching Kangding. However late, we’d eventually get to the hotel. 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 it; some passed with roofs completely blanketed. We heard they had been stuck on Zheduo Mountain, hungry and cold. Compared to them, our seven or eight hours of delay were nothing – after all, there was water and instant noodles for sale by the roadside.

Day 14: October 4, 2018

Kangding County – Hailuogou, 75 km, about 1.5 hours’ drive. We stayed another night in Kangding.

Just look at the snow on the rooftops – you can tell how heavy the snowfall was the day before. Such heavy snow this early in Kangding is rare, and we happened to be here for it.

Hailuogou lies in the southeast of Ganzi Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture. There are two main reasons to visit Hailuogou: hot springs and glaciers. The hot springs are mainly at Camp 2, where many pools of various sizes and shapes are built into the hillside, tier upon tier. For glacier viewing, head to Camp 3, nestled within a virgin forest and snow mountains – an excellent spot to see the ‘Sunshine on Golden Mountain’.

Hailuogou Red Stone Beach is in the Lianghekou area of Yajiageng within the Hailuogou scenic zone, known as the ‘world’s red stone park’. The red stones here are not only mysterious but also a truly unique spectacle globally.

Thanks to Hailuogou’s uniquely moist climate and mineral elements like manganese that nourish a certain algae, the rocks are covered in red. This red substance is a microorganism – an aerial filamentous green alga called Trentepohlia jolithus – that thrives in the high mountain ecosystem, creating this extraordinary sight. According to research by the Chinese Academy of Sciences, its vivid blood-red color comes from astaxanthin inside the cells.

My first close encounter with a glacier.

Taking a close look at this mysterious microorganism.

Cars must yield to animals – otherwise you can’t afford the compensation. It was just like our self-drive trip to Yellowstone in the western US back in 2014.

Day 15: October 5, 2018

Kangding – Suining, 430 km, about 5.5 hours’ drive. The return journey began. After more than ten days of long-distance driving, everyone was tired, so we chose to spend a night in Suining to avoid excessive fatigue. (If you have fewer people or cars and are still energetic, you can shorten the following itinerary; similarly, the earlier outbound journey can also be shortened 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. Arrived home safely. By the way, the companion who broke her arm received rehabilitation treatment after returning to Wuhan. No surgery, just conservative therapy. She’s now mostly recovered, though nerve function isn’t fully restored. The companion who went temporarily missing in Yading received a call in Kangding that her mother had passed away, so that day she and her husband drove back to Wuhan alone ahead of schedule.