Travel slowly in Sichuan and Tibet

I dreamed of Aden several times, but all I dreamed of was my own body, like a straw, lying on the ground with a blurred face.

I looked at it, just like a cicada returning from the Buddhist scriptures in Lingyundu, and saw a dead body floating down from the upper reaches, but someone said in mid-air, "Don't be afraid, it was you."

It's 35 kilometers from 2 to 48, and it takes 15 hours to walk with load.

Walk, walk, walk ... I only do this for 15 hours. After that, the old me has died, and I have been reborn with an endless walk.

along the way, rotten wood is ferocious, and the wasteland is thousands of miles away. The world is magnificent, and the flesh is like dirt.

The rapidly changing climate on the plateau has dropped from 28 degrees Celsius, which is warm with sunshine, to zero, and suddenly there are hail and thunder in the snow-capped mountains.

hypoxia. The illusion that the body reaches its limit and almost dies. It's like having a dream, only the temple is dull and painful, so it's so real and numb.

there are no horses and porters. You can only bite your teeth and go forward with your eyes closed. You can rest, but you can't give up, because you never have a retreat.

you feel that you have fallen from heaven to hell and returned to the world.

But we can finally see clearly: Faith, how powerful is generate?

the five of us set off at six in the morning that day. It's not light yet.

We found a guide, and took us by the route of Tibetans turning to mountains.

Uncle Guide is a native Tibetan. He is in his fifties, with a dark red face and limited Chinese. He always smiles. He was wearing a camouflage military coat that could not see the color clearly, and his bedroll and dry food were packed on his back. He is very experienced in this road and told us that it will be very bitter today. It is estimated that it will take more than ten hours to get dark.

this is not an ordinary road.

Starting from Kas village, we cross a valley with dense virgin forest, which is called "Hell Valley" by local people.

Take another steep uphill "Paradise Road" and overlook the two sacred peaks of Yangmaiyong and Xiannairi.

Finally, go down the mountain, arrive at Luorong Cattle Farm, and return to the "human world".

When the prayer flags at the entrance of the village disappear from sight, the stream becomes the only road sign. The more you walk, the more desolate you become. Sporadic mani piles and wooden bridges by the water have become the only remains of mankind.

I counted silently, until the 11th, and we left the stream.

Uncle dipped the empty coke bottle in the spring water and filled it up. There will be no more water on the mountain.

the fleece shirt has been soaked with sweat, and the leg-softening steep slope has just begun.

the forest is dark. Foot roots and greasy moss. Trees that cling to tussah silk will gradually die, and trees that die naturally will fall down and become the swaddling clothes of mushrooms and fungi. The hanging tussah is like a witch with long hair and waist, and her face is ferocious.

this is the valley of hell. It's like the location where Baku Yumemakura's ghost travels at night. Behind every tree hole, there is a peeping eye. In the distance, strange birds cry, which still makes people's backs cold in broad daylight.

At first, we had a rest every 4 minutes. Later, the rest interval became shorter and shorter. You can stand and never sit at rest, because once you sit, you can't stand up.

My husband, Cui Daoxue, was born in sports and took the lead. Peach girl is thin, but she and her boyfriend grew up climbing mountains, and they tied for second place. Only the little fat man and I are far behind, making a pair of difficult sisters and brothers. I am 164 and weigh 45kg.

I have ignored Cui's urging. I walk like an old lady climbing stairs, taking small steps, talking less, sipping water, and adjusting my heart rate with abdominal breathing in yoga class, keeping my heart rate within 14. When you really can't walk, you meditate on the heart sutra and empty your thoughts.

but I still think it's too difficult. Thin oxygen tests the vital capacity, and breathing harder seems to burst the lungs in order to maintain basic activity. Without air, every movement becomes slow motion. Once the force is too strong, the temple hurts like an explosion.

throw away all the competitive hearts, don't be a champion, I just want to be the one who walks to the finish line alive.

The forest came to an abrupt end, and at the end of a narrow narrow narrow path, my eyes suddenly opened up.

The sunshine was warm as a waterfall, and it spilled over my head, making me close my eyes.

I feel so happy ... very happy.

no wonder people say: this is the road to heaven. After experiencing the gloomy and steep hell valley, trembling legs seemed to cheer and ushered in a gentle slope. The altitude has become higher unconsciously.

In the green grassland, patches of pink and magenta rhododendrons are dotted with cold gray and pine green lonely valleys. The blue sky in Wan Li is washed with water, the clouds are white without any impurities, and the soul seems to have been purified, becoming pure without desire.

In the distance, the white snow top is the fairy sun, which is the first of the three sacred mountains in Daocheng, with an altitude of 632 meters.

According to legend, the three Bodhisattvas transformed sentient beings into three snow-capped mountains. Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva incarnates the immortal as the sun, Manjusri Bodhisattva incarnates Yang Maiyong, and Vajrayana Bodhisattva incarnates Shenodoji Mountain.

In the plateau in June, the snow line has faded, but it has not completely melted. There is no vegetation above the snow line, and the rocks are exposed. Rock contains a substance similar to mica, which can reflect silver or golden light, and looks like golden mountains and silver mountains from a distance, dazzling.

She is so solemn and sacred, standing at the foot of the snow-capped mountain, it is hard not to feel admiration and an impulse to worship.

You can often see some stone houses in the mountains, which are very small, and they are built with common shale slices from local materials. That's a rest stop built by Tibetans themselves.

There is a stove, a metal kettle and utensils in the room, which can make a fire. The door is sheltered from the wind with oiled paper, and there are two tree sticks, which uncle said are used to resist the "door panel" at night to avoid wild animals.

There are many Tibetans digging for Cordyceps in the mountains, and Cordyceps is their main source of income. Only dig for two months a year. Every day, there are as few as 35 trees and as many as a dozen trees. According to the purchase price of each tree in 6 yuan, the income can reach 4,-6,, which is much more than road construction and tourist reception.

Cordyceps sinensis is a gift from Bodhisattva, from which children's tuition fees and women's dowry come.

for two months, I ate dry food, lived in the mountains, in that simple stone house, and couldn't meet my family. Cordyceps is hidden under the grass, and it is the same color as the meadow, which is eye-catching. Men, women and children, lying on the ground, scratching the grass with their hands, touching the ground with their noses, searching inch by inch, even if there is only a small leaf, is hope.

When we saw the visitors from outside the mountain, they gave a simple smile and said in fluent Chinese, "Do you want Cordyceps? Buy one just dug!"

If you are sitting in a brightly lit office building, you will never be able to imagine the poverty and hardship of the plateau.

You have already exceeded your physical needs, and you may not be able to imagine that fighting so hard has nothing to do with self-realization, just to survive, eat enough and go to school.

I have never thought about what these three words mean before. Until one day, I went to the No.1 celestial burial platform on Mount Everest in Shanghai, and listened to the Lama talking about the owners of those relics: babies who died young, teenagers who fell off the cliff, and old people who died ... People died in various ways, but they were stripped off and restored to the posture of the fetus curled up, and suffered from blood and fire. The body sacrifices the goshawk, and the soul returns to the sky, leaving nothing behind. This is the plateau. Life and death are too common and ordinary, so we look at it lightly.

I have also met people who have changed mountains. Meet a smile, say Tashildler, they nodded, still mumbling to recite scripture. Some people don't talk, just kowtow during the cultivation period of forbidden words. Practice is the only lamp in a limited life.

We found an empty stone house, at the foot of the sacred mountain, and lit a fire for lunch.

The guide put the spring water on the fire, boiled butter tea, took out the steamed bun and chewed it. We also took out our own dry food and chewed it hard. Outside the window is an abyss, clouds are rolling, a beautiful scenery is served, and dry food is not so difficult to swallow.

I asked my uncle for a sip of tea. The dark brick tea was filled with ghee, salty and fishy, and I couldn't tell what it tasted like, but I drank it like a nectar.

After eating, I lay down and rested, and almost instantly I was laid down by the sleepy head and fell asleep.

I slept for an hour, but when I woke up, the world had changed color. I don't know where the sun went, and Yang Maiyong's treasure top has completely disappeared in the dark clouds.

The guide uncle urged us to start quickly, for the weather is going to change.

I looked at the dark clouds that seemed to collapse in a daze, and I still didn't know what the word "bad weather" meant.

Keep going, the dark clouds are getting thicker and thicker, and the sky is too low to breathe. It is raining.

The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is soft, long and intermittent. Even without an umbrella, it is romantic.

The rain on the plateau, like whipping, like cutting meat with a small knife, is cold and hurts when it hits the face.

The little fat man who laughed and laughed all the way finally stopped laughing. He seems to have a cold and a little fever, and he hardly wants to talk again. Five people walked at a very slow speed, suffering.

but this bad weather doesn't sympathize with us. Soon, it began to hail, and the snow particles as big as beans crackled on the jacket. Trembling all over, teeth chattering.

I met two tourists from Aden before and asked us which way to Daocheng. Dressed as a backpacker, there is no guide. Look at the weather, we have to cross the valley of hell. It's really a sweat for them.

Rain falls and stops. Occasionally, a ray of sunshine pulls out a few diagonal lines, and more often, it is only cold rain and strong wind. The jacket has entered the water, and my fingers are stiff with cold. Although the scenery is beautiful, I can resist the strong desire for photography, so I wrapped my camera in a plastic bag and put it in my bag, and I went on wholeheartedly.

suddenly, a blue lake appeared in front of us, and everyone was refreshed.

the milk sea has arrived.

this means that we are still a third way from the camp.

It seems that hot buttered tea, warm sleeping bags and bonfires are shaking in front of my eyes.

Na Pianhai, we are getting closer. The thick glacier reflects the blue light of the lake, like a sapphire embedded in a silver ring.

between the rugged rocks and meadows, Gesang flowers are in full bloom, which will only bloom at an altitude of more than 4, meters. This kind of flower is lavender, which is inconspicuous at first glance, like a pile of dry firewood sticks. Once it blooms, the scene is spectacular. Strangely, that kind of purple, no matter what camera is used to record it, is far less vivid than what the naked eye sees.

Gesang flower is a symbol of plateau. It is prickly and tenacious, just like the personality of Tibetan women who dare to love and hate. Tibetan women are not flowers in a greenhouse, they can be gentle and kind mothers, and they can also be fierce and stubborn lovers.

The Milk Sea is a valley surrounded by mountains. From the slope to the lake, it looks very close, and there are still ten minutes' walk.

A large group of wild rock sheep graze by the lake. They always keep a distance of 2mm focal length carefully, but this is the first time to look at them face to face.

There is a large Mani pile on the roadside, under the umbrella-shaped banner of five-color banners, full of stones brought by the practitioners and walkers from everywhere. Scattered pieces of paper, picked up one, printed with scripture and a winged horse. This is the wind horse paper that people who turn mountains throw out when they reach the top. It is said that people can achieve their wishes quickly.

I think this paper is very beautiful. I put it in my pocket and forget it soon.

can you not leave? I really want to stay and camp by the lake.

but we still have to feel the camp before dark. Before I left, I scanned the panorama of mountains and rivers with my eyes for the last time, and fixed this beautiful place inch by inch in my memory.

?

From Milk Sea to Luorong Cattle Farm, it is basically a gentle downhill and stone steps. The altitude dropped slowly, and the feeling of tinnitus eased a little. But it's raining harder and harder, with no intention of stopping.

It is said that it takes energy to go up the mountain and legs to go down the mountain. I can't feel the existence of legs anymore. I just walk mechanically and don't let myself fall down. This section of the road is fragmented in memory. I can't remember clearly where I went and what scenery I passed. I only remember that my clothes were cold and wet on my back, and I was tired, hungry and had a splitting headache. I was chanting Amitabha, don't catch a cold, don't get altitude sickness, and go home safely.

The steps of the green slate are soaked in the rain, which is particularly slippery. There is a mountain on one side and an unobstructed cliff on the other, and only two people can pass sideways in the narrowest place. The kind guide uncle grabbed the backpack strap on my shoulder and said, "I'm not afraid, I'll take you, I'm not afraid."

He said several times that he would help you with your backpack. I said, "Uncle, you are as old as my dad. How can I throw my luggage to you?" He smiled, his face wrinkled: "Oh, oh! (Tibetan: OK) "

This section of the road is really too hard. Uncle actually drank raw cold spring water on the mountain, and he was already a little uncomfortable and had diarrhea. But he kept putting up with it, fearing that we were worried about him, and sent us to the camp all the time. Only then did I know that I quickly dug out the norfloxacin in my bag and gave it to him, but he kept saying thank you.

I can't thank you enough for being taken care of by him all the way. Asked what gift he wanted, he didn't understand, or "oh, oh!" " Laughing. After talking for a long time, I finally understood what I meant, but he didn't want anything else, as long as I sent him a photo of Bula Palace to worship at home ...

Before dark, the last trek was finally coming to an end. At the end of the mountain and surrounded by trees, a green grassland gradually appeared.

The winding river runs through the green meadows, and the riverbed is covered with golden gravel and dark pebbles. The young shepherdess leads the chestnut horse, forming a quiet and beautiful picture.

This kind of picture only appeared in dreams in the past. At one time, I thought I was too tired and hallucinated.

My lips are frozen, my legs are numb, my senses are a little out of order, and I can't even feel the pain, but my ears haven't disappeared.

A tinkling pastoral bell is approaching from a distance, getting closer and closer ...

Cui Dao raised his mobile phone behind him and photographed my rickety back, but I didn't know it at that time. In the video, a group of horses ran head-on and separated from me happily, just like a reef separating a rushing river. I stood alone on the grassland, holding my mobile phone, neither avoiding nor talking, as if immersed in another silent world.

when the horses rushed towards me, I felt the ground shaking.

with their curious eyes wide open, they rushed straight at me, then turned sharply and passed by.

I forgot to dodge. Maybe I simply know that they are saying with their eyes: There is no harm between us.

luorong cattle farm. Here we are. Finally arrived.

In the lonely journey, no matter how many people are with you, the one who struggles with fatigue is alone, and the one who gets the feeling of reaching the top is also alone. The eyes are sore and the throat is tight. You ask me how moved I am? This is destined not to be enjoyed by * * *, and you must get the certificate one step at a time. There is no shortcut.

I thought that when I got to Luorong Cattle Farm, all the self-abuse would end immediately. But it didn't.

There is still 12 kilometers to go from Luorong Cattle Farm to the camp of the Tourist Center (Longlongba). Fortunately, they are all flat grasslands.