xiao ais pilgrimage 3 doing what i really want to do

Beauty may fade, but the seasons never cease.

Those fragmented moments of time at the tip of the pen, silent joy!

Record of the pilgrimage around the Three Holy Mountains of Daocheng Yading, Day 3

Camping in a cave, naturally, sleep wasn't great. In the morning, even the sleeping bag was covered in a thick layer of mist, let alone the tent.

But it still didn't affect my mood!

After waking up, I slowly put on warm clothes and got up. The surroundings were still foggy, and it had rained and snowed all night. The Tibetan brothers and sisters of the horse caravan had been up for a while, making a fire. I quickly joined them to warm up. After last night's communication with Sirang Dorje, we had established some emotional connection, being fellow townspeople, they were much friendlier!

Through conversation, I learned that they are professional horse caravan guides, providing horses for trekkers, charging per day for carrying equipment and people. I was quite surprised! No wonder I saw trekkers leaving trash everywhere, including various cans, bottled drinks, and self-heating meals...

I had always wondered how others could carry so many cans; turns out they had horses to carry them...

The latter half of the route is the Rock Line, from Muli to Yading! The entire route is 76km, a favorite among trekkers and considered a difficult route! I learned they had been walking for 4 days, starting from Muli!

I enjoy chatting with those trekkers, but they are all so cold and indifferent! Feeling bored, I continued chatting with the guide sisters. The guides were soaking wet, drying their clothes by the fire, without gloves or hats, just simple caps. It was heartbreaking to see them shivering from the cold!

I told the guide sister: Remember my phone number, I'll send you some warm Milos wool hats and gloves, so you won't get cold often in the mountains. The Tibetan sister was probably very touched, thinking I was a good girl!

While warming by the fire, they made butter tea and offered me some. I wasn't interested, but I was very interested in their dry food. Seeing my pitiful look, a Tibetan brother gave me two biscuits. However, I hadn't brushed my teeth yet, so I quickly took them back to the tent. Dorje was packing up the tent, and I proudly showed him the biscuits, planning to brush my teeth and then enjoy them...

After brushing my teeth, I couldn't find the biscuits anywhere. I asked Dorje: Where are the biscuits?

Sirang Dorje: I ate them!

Me: You ate them all? None left.

Sirang Dorje: None left...

I was so upset. I had been saving them to taste after brushing my teeth... This guy didn't leave me a single bite, how selfish! Not considering my feelings, not caring that I didn't get to taste even a bit...

I felt so wronged, both angry and sad, but thinking he must have been very hungry, I couldn't bear to blame him! I could only feel silently sad...

To avoid showing my upset face to Dorje, I went to the next fire to warm up, feeling a bit melancholic...

Watching the Tibetan brothers and sisters eating biscuits and drinking butter tea, I swallowed my saliva, feeling very hungry, but it wasn't appropriate to ask them for more since they needed their food for the next few days.

Later, I saw them making tsampa from barley flour. I wasn't interested, but seeing them eat so heartily, I asked for some to give to Sirang Dorje, thinking it would be filling. This was the third day, and we hadn't had enough to eat each day. Dorje had to carry so much equipment, he needed to be well-fed, otherwise, he might get sick and that would be terrible...

Tsampa without butter tastes strange. Dorje ate a piece and gave me two bites. It indeed fills the stomach easily!

We cooked two packs of instant noodles, but they were gone quickly. We only had two self-heating meals and three to five pieces of bread left... Food was seriously insufficient.

The guides had also finished eating and were packing up to leave. I quickly asked Dorje to get their phone numbers so I could send them Milos gear when we got home. As a Milos brand ambassador, I wanted to help them. Dorje said their hometown was even poorer than his...

I couldn't imagine it. Dorje's home was already bare, without internet or WiFi, not even gas. A big house with only two light bulbs, dark and gloomy, making it impossible to read at night. During the day, he had to read by the window for light... As I packed, I told Dorje: In such cold rain and snow, they were wearing casual sneakers and thin clothes, relying only on raincoats to keep dry and warm. It was so tough and pitiful. Their hands and feet were frozen and cracked, it was heartbreaking!

Sirang Dorje said: Most Tibetans live very frugally!

I said: When we get home, I must send them Milos hats and gloves. I saw the sister's socks were worn out. If we didn't have to keep going, if I had brought spares, if I didn't need to keep warm myself, I would have given them my warm clothes!

Before leaving, the Tibetan sister brought over several pounds of rice for us. Wow, happiness came so suddenly! Now we didn't have to worry about starving, at least we could cook rice!

After packing up, we set off. The horse caravan still had to carry equipment and people, so we went ahead.

Bidding farewell to the Tibetan brothers and sisters of the horse caravan, one brother even handed me an orange before leaving. They were so kind!! I was so touched by this warm encounter.

After setting off, there was a steep climb. I asked Sirang Dorje how far it was to the Xianuoduo Pass. He initially said 5-8km, then later said about 10km. It really chipped away at my mental resolve! During the climb, I could feel my calf muscles getting more and more sore and weak. This might be a symptom of altitude sickness! Going slower and slower, it would only delay our planned schedule.

In the end, I didn't bother asking how far it was, how many kilometers, or how many passes were left... After a big descent into a valley, there were cow sheds, simple large tents, a large grassy area, and a pile of trash. It seemed previous trekkers had camped there last night, leaving trash everywhere. It was unpleasant. We had burned almost all the trash we generated and carried the small amount left with us. I hadn't expected so many Rock Line enthusiasts to leave so much trash. It was really bad!

In the cow shed, several Tibetans were holding large bags, starting to pick up trash. Sirang Dorje went over to chat with them and caught up with me after a while: They are also from Daocheng County, paid by the government to collect trash here. They pick up the trash left by tourists along the way and take it back!

Honestly, in this situation, I didn't know how to express myself... I kept my head down and silently climbed. Sirang Dorje then said: It's 18km to the Xianuoduo Pass... Hearing that number, I was stunned. He had said 10km or 8km, now it was 18km! So frustrating, but I decided to take it one step at a time!

I suddenly remembered the morning biscuits and quietly asked him: What flavor were the biscuits this morning...

Sirang Dorje was stunned, not expecting me to ask that!

I thought, too much, not leaving me a single bite... I couldn't get angry, so I had to hold it in...

The weather improved, with clouds and mist, like a fairyland. Fortunately, it hadn't rained continuously. Snowflakes fluttered, the north wind howled, the world was vast and desolate. The majestic snow-capped mountains were faintly visible in the distance. But both my body and spirit were exhausted, and I couldn't pay much attention to the beautiful scenery. I just wondered when we would reach Xianuoduo!

While crossing the Yangmaiyong Snow Mountain, I discussed the route with Sirang Dorje. This is an extremely beautiful cross-country route, very challenging, with high altitude and unpredictable weather. The scenery is indeed stunning. Dorje said he wanted to organize a 100km cross-country race on this route. I analyzed various issues with him, noting that supplies and rescue would be very difficult, and the route was too challenging for most participants to conquer!

After all, the high altitude makes self-supply and self-navigation very dangerous.

Despite this, it is indeed a very good race route, worth the challenge.

While chatting, we didn't feel as tired. There were always trekkers around, in small groups. We were in good condition, constantly overtaking other trekkers. Every time I saw them littering after resupplying, I couldn't help but say: How can you litter...

In such a beautiful pristine forest and snow-capped mountains, the litter just stays there, really damaging the environment.

Crossing the Yangmaiyong Snow Mountain pass, the snow was thick, and the snowflakes fluttered. I relied on my trekking poles to avoid slipping. At one cliff, I slipped and was so scared I stopped, my heart nearly jumping out, my whole body weak!

It took a while to recover. The snow was too thick, and the horse tracks were mostly frozen, wet, and slippery. The horses had trampled the path into a muddy mess! My shoes and pants were unrecognizable, in a terrible state!

Carefully crossing the pass, we were getting closer to our goal. Sirang Dorje repeatedly assured me that after this pass, we would reach Xianuoduo. After a big descent, there was a black lake in the distance. We took some photos but didn't go down to see it up close, continuing on our way. There were trekkers everywhere, and we were nearing the end.

When we reached the last lake, what was it called, many trekkers were camping there, with about twenty tents, horses, and guides. It was bustling. Smoke was rising from the cow sheds. Sirang Dorje asked if we should camp there too. I asked if crossing the pass would lead to Xianuoduo, and he said yes!

Our final sky-running route was to check in at the Xianuoduo pass. After crossing the last pass, we would reach the finish line. I looked at the not-so-high slope and said I could still walk, as long as I could go slowly without being rushed!

Halfway up the slope, there was a cave. It was very clean and had stone walls to block the wind. Sirang Dorje said it was a good place to camp, with firewood for a fire. Seeing the bustling trekkers, I insisted on continuing, crossing the pass before deciding!

Moving at a turtle's pace, taking three steps and stopping, I still managed to climb the pass. Without going to see Milk Lake, I descended the pass, still encountering small groups of tourists. We had entered a very safe area of the park. In the distance, there were tents and horses on the grass. Exhausted, we found a quiet, sheltered spot in a deserted valley to camp.

Night fell, the mist was thick, and it kept snowing lightly. But at that moment, I felt safe. We were only 8km from the finish line. It was very safe here, no worries about wild animals, strong winds, or heavy snow. My emotions were mixed, as we were close to the end of the pilgrimage. No matter how hard it was, it was almost over. Despite the hardships, we had made it through. I felt a mix of reluctance, excitement, joy, and still some reluctance.

This was ultimately an unforgettable experience in my life!

Tomorrow, it will all come to an end!

Whether I want it or not, the finish line is there!

After three days of trekking, I was physically and mentally exhausted, starving, and in a sorry state. Covered in dirt, my hair unwashed, clothes unchanged, shoes unrecognizable, I longed for a hot shower and a big meal, but I was also reluctant to leave this unforgettable experience.

This journey was filled with blood, tears, hardships, and sweetness, warm encounters, and hurried farewells!

No matter what, after setting up the tent, I still crawled into my sleeping bag, unwilling to move any more!

I asked Sirang Dorje what he had been thinking about along the way!

This simple-minded guy said: The heavy pack, thinking about how to adjust it to make my shoulders hurt less...

Then he asked me: Will you come again next time???

I said: I want to earn good money and go to Mount Kailash for a pilgrimage next year! Or maybe, do it once a year!

With the sound of rain and snow hitting the tent, I fell into a drowsy sleep!

In my dreams, there were still cliffs covered in thick snow and endless passes. As the saying goes: The wind is bleak, the rain is bleak, the lamp flowers wither through another night. I don't know what haunts my mind, awake or drunk, it's all the same, dreams never reach Xie Bridge!