August Around Qinghai (7, Xidatan)
Back in a familiar place, the morning in Qarhan with little Yu's company was great. The 5-year-old kid never asked to be carried, persistently walking up and down for over an hour, much tougher than when with mom. A rare travel opportunity, I hope they can discover more colors in the vast world.
After another hour of driving, we entered Golmud city. We randomly found a place for breakfast; the nearby restaurants were all run by Sichuanese. Strangely enough, since leaving Chongqing, I've felt that the folks in Sichuan are quite friendly and approachable, everyone willing to chat. Soon we were chatting away with a few nearby owners. It was also convenient to charge water and electricity here, everything as it should be, much less of a dialect barrier than around Qinghai Lake. After stocking up on local specialties and getting everything ready, we officially set off for the Kunlun Mountains!
In my impression, the Kunlun Mountains are the "ancestor of all mountains" in Chinese culture, with many ancient legends tied to them. Mentioning the Heavenly Court and Queen Mother of the West always brings this place to mind. And this is the so-called "border of the Central Plains" in ancient times, said to wind like a giant dragon.
We drove on the Qinghai-Tibet Highway, with the parallel Qinghai-Tibet Railway not far away. Fifteen years ago, I passed through here too, but that time I was watching from the train that had just opened, haha!
After leaving Golmud, the greenery gradually faded, and the landscape became more vivid and dramatic, taking on the feel of traditional Chinese ink painting. The mountains on the plateau all seemed low, as if you could climb them in twenty minutes. There was no sense of the "towering" Kunlun, but more of a continuous "massiveness."
The tourist traffic here can't compare to the Qinghai-Gansu Grand Loop. Most vehicles on the road were transporting goods. Occasionally chatting with people we met, it felt like the Tibetan herders on the plateau basically had no problem relying on local supplies, but almost everything in the city was brought in. Without these shipments, it would be impossible to survive. On the road, we often encountered pilgrims heading to Lhasa and some ascetic travelers, evoking a sense of reverence.
This is the edge of the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau; the most notable feature is the clarity of the river water. There weren't many scenic spots along the way, but stopping occasionally to brew some tea or coffee by the river was a nice break. Another thing was lying on the bed in the back of the car, watching the mountains pass by—a novel perspective.
The few spots that could be called attractions along the way were Kunlun Holy Spring and Wuji Dragon and Phoenix Palace, both very peaceful places. That night we stayed in Xidatan.
As we drove further, the sky gradually darkened and a light rain began. After several days of intense heat on the plateau, it felt much more comfortable. After winding through a mountain pass, a continuous line of snow-capped mountains suddenly appeared in the distance. That first glimpse was truly stunning. We were approaching the edge of the Qaidam Basin, ahead was Yuzhu Peak, the highest point in the Kunlun range.
This was the nearest supply station we found on the map in the evening. From a distance, there weren't many buildings, scattered over several kilometers, with a military camp nearby. For many years, this place had been an important lifeline for Tibet.
We first found a supermarket; the most unexpected thing was the low prices, just like in the city. The clerk said this was a state-run supply station, originally built to serve passing drivers, so profit wasn't a concern. For years, a few local Tibetans took shifts, each shift lasting several months. Outside the supermarket, there was a Hui auto mechanic and even charging stations for electric cars—small but complete.
The nearby military camp was also repairing vehicles here. The young soldiers were very warm-hearted; seeing us traveling with children, they gave us some military-grade altitude sickness medicine. They said that even some new soldiers occasionally suffered severe altitude sickness, and there was a permanent ambulance nearby to send people to lower altitudes if something happened. If we continued on our route, the highest point would be the Kunlun Mountain Pass, a few dozen kilometers ahead, at an elevation of 4,800 meters. For safety, we shouldn't stay there too long. Beyond that was Hoh Xil. Actually, if we had come a few weeks earlier, we would have caught the Tibetan antelope migration—the sight of them in herds was spectacular. But even now, we might encounter scattered groups, including antelopes and wild donkeys, just don't get too close. Also, that section of road was full of potholes, making for an uncomfortable ride.
That evening, before it got dark, we took the kids to walk along the riverbed, aiming for the Qinghai-Tibet Railway a few kilometers ahead. After these days of travel, the kids had grown to love walks. The wide riverbed had several streams of varying widths. We walked all the way to the railway bridge, and on the way back, we found the water volume had increased. Some spots that were dry ground when we crossed earlier now required wading. In mountainous areas, the water flow is unpredictable; it's best not to walk too far. If you're unlucky and a sudden current makes the water surface much wider and deeper, trapping you, that would be a real problem.
