This was our second attempt to take a caravan right across the Three Parallel Rivers region of northwest Yunnan. Last year we were interrupted halfway between the Jinsha (Yangtze) and Lancang (Mekong) Rivers – officially on account of a colony of golden monkeys. This time, therefore, we chose the southernmost of the old trails that led from the Tibetan Plateau around Zhongdian/Shangri-la to the Burmese-Tibetan border region in the Nu (Salween) River valley. This skirts the Golden Monkey Reserve around the southern edge of the Baima mountain range, but also affords the opportunity to check out the Golden Monkey/Lisu Hill Tribe project set up by the China Exploration & Research Society’s (more on this below). As far as we could judge from the memories of locals along the route, no caravan had travelled that way since the early-to-mid seventies.

Day 1, 6 km

Our gathering point was in the town of Zhongdian/Shangri-la, the main entry point to the Tibetan country on the Tea & Horse Caravan Trail in Yunnan. Songzanlin Lamasery is the biggest institution of the Dalai Lama’s Gelugpa sect in southwest China, dating from 1679 when it began construction at the behest of the fifth Dalai. It’s the main attraction for visitors to Zhongdian, but rather less attractive than previously – tickets were 30 yuan last year; now they are 85 yuan, even though the main hall has been demolished. It will doubtless rise again. The entire complex was in ruins in 1981 after its destruction during the Great Proletarian Cultual Revolution; it has now recovered much of its former aspect, plus a purpose-built car park and visitor hall two kilometers south of the lamasery.

Yang Xiao enjoys breakfast time at the Karma Cafe in the old town of Zhongdian. The cafe is housed in a 180-year-old building, one of a diminishing number of original structures in the old quarter.

The provincial museum in Zhongdian features a large 3-D model of the 3 Rivers region, which Yang Xiao uses to describe our route to guest Eufung Hwang.

We began our trek after lunch, starting at the turnoff toward Lianhe Village, beyond which was a small pasture at the foot of the range. These azaleas were lighting up the hillside just above our camp, where our six-strong mule team had arrived the evening before. The mules had been transported from Dali. Ordinarily, we’d use local animals, but Lianhe has no pack animals worthy of the name. And we planned to take a single caravan the entire way: 92.5 kilometers as the crow flies from here to the banks of the Nu (Salween) River. 

Day 2, 10 km

Just FYI, here’s our camp toilet complete with fresh mountain orchids. Take that, Banyan Tree!

Camp on Day 2 was here at Bigu Heaven Lake, 3,876 meters above sea level and a 16-kilometer trek from our starting point. We were accosted on the way up by a couple of locals concerned about our activities, one of whom demanded to know if we were making a movie – in which case he wanted a wad of cash. I couldn’t understand this, until Yang Xiao remembered Bigu was the scene of an infamous shoot by Chen Kaige, director of Farewell My Concubine.  

Part of 2004’s The Promise was shot on and around this lake. The crew cleared vegetation for an access road, poured concrete into the water as a foundation for the film set, and left trash all around the site. The production was later fined 90,000 yuan, but Chen Kaige bounced back in 2006 with a surprise nomination for a “Green Chinese” award. “Sometimes a negative example can serve as a warning,” said Wang Panpu, deputy director of the awards committee.

Day 3, 14 km

Muleteer Li Yishan from Zhoucheng, just north of Dali, enjoys the morning sunshine at Bigu. Despite the popularity of the lake with film crews and photographers, the Tibetans who herd yaks close by said we were the first people ever to camp overnight. Lao Li’s boss, Yang Zhuwen, was so excited by the view that he insisted on photos being taken and thanked us profusely for paying him to bring his mules here.

The pass over the range is less than 100 meters higher than Bigu Lake, a short walk up and down a broad trail used by herders from Xiao Zhongdian.

This lovely pasture is the preserve of just two families from Xiao Zhongdian.  

Larong Qilin brings his people and yaks over the mountain in April, and they stay until October. None of them knew the way down toward the river, though all said we were on the right track. At this point, in a broad, sunny valley with a well-trodden path, that seemed entirely reasonable. 

Only three days out from the big city, we are still well supplied with picnic provisions.  

Beyond the pastures, the trail entered a bamboo forest at around 3,600 meters. From there, the path broke up and closed in. We had to stop frequently to cut a way through. The mules were loaded Bai-style, with the packs strapped onto wide wooden frames that required correspondingly wide spaces through which to pass. This early in the expedition, the loads were still very heavy. The rear mule had the weightiest packs, stuffed with feed, flour and rice. As I shepherded them around a sharp corner, this mule slipped on a rock and there followed one of those sequences where time does, indeed, appear to slow down. His back legs buckled, then he tried stepping over the rock again. He failed, slipped again and his rear legs buckled further. At the third try, he lost all purchase and fell off the trail. The load tumbled onto the slope, bounced twice and stopped upright – somewhat to my amazement, as there was at least another 100 meters to the bottom of the gulley. The mule was luckier still, dropping straight into a clutch of bamboo, where he lay on his side, breathing heavily and looking at me. Reproachfully, probably. Lao Li jumped down, freed the mule from its harness, at which point the animal flipped over out of the bamboo, just missing Lao Li (who skipped out of the way as if it was a cat dropping towards him, rather than a 500-pound beast of burden) and landing on its feet. Lao Li and Lao Yang resaddled him, lifted the load back on, and away we went, out of the bamboo forest and into an even thicker, primeval jungle. As dark closed in, it was obvious we couldn’t get out of the forest that night. We strung tarps between the trees, dug out a flattish space and settled in to wait for the morning light.

Day 4, 2 km

Lao Yang and I worked our way down and out of the forest first thing in the morning. It took about 30 minutes to get to the nearest village, Madi, but there was no way through for the laden mules. Instead, we found two young fellas who returned with us to camp, and then led our caravan back up through the forest and around to Madi, a two-hour trek through mulch that came up to the mules’ knees at times. At Madi, we unloaded the animals to give them a break for the next leg of the journey. While they carried lightly on down the mountain, we borrowed a truck and moved ahead to a village just west of Tacheng.

Day 5,  Rest

Head of Luogu Village Yu Xueliang shows off a crossbow he made in the old days when he and his fellow Lisu villagers hunted through the Baima mountain range. This bow was made to pierce the thick skin of the black and brown bears that still roam the heights. The arrows were treated with a poison distilled from the root of a plant called cao wu, which Yu said could kill a bear in 15 minutes. That left plenty of time for the wounded bear to chase the hunter – Yu said the first thing to consider when taking aim was where you were going to run if you scored a bullseye.

This picture was taken in 1925 by Joseph Rock. His expedition crossed from the Lancang to the Nu valley via the same route we took on last year’s Three Rivers expedition. This boy belonged to the Nu people, whose weapons look almost identical to those of the Lisu. Those knives we saw on villagers’ belts this year, however, had red plastic handles and cost 30 yuan on the market at Fugong County Town.

Our group stayed in a center built by the China Exploration Research Society. Originally, this project was designed to help study and protect the golden monkeys who live on the mountain close by Luogu. However, while the development of the Baima nature reserve has helped the monkeys and other wildlife, it has also put an end to the traditions of the Lisu villagers. With hunting banned since the mid-90s, their culture has already become a museum piece. The CERS has converted two old buildings into showcases for the Lisu’s lost lifestyle. Mr Yu above is standing outside one of the museum buildings, in which his crossbows are a prime exhibit.

Most of the CERS center is housed in converted grain storehouses.

The golden monkeys have thrived on the mountain and lived relatively close to the village because a local superstition historically protected them. Anyone who killed a monkey was said to bring misfortune on his family.

For Part 2 of this journey, click here!