This trek is somewhat off-topic for us, being part neither of the Tea & Horse Trail nor of the Long March. It is, however, the most dramatic and beautiful trail we know in Yunnan – and we haven’t even managed to finish it yet! Its beauty is matched by its difficulty, so we’ll be returning for a third try at completing this kora next May.

I think I should say that we will be trying to complete the kora trail. If I understand correctly, the kora is a spiritual exercise, part of which consists of a circumambulation of an object or site of Buddhist religious significance: in this case the sacred Mt Gezong, which you can see looming above the village of Bala in the picture above. Our trek began here on September 30.

Early morning on the 30th, our Tibetan guides-cum-porters burned pine needles here in preparation for departure. Ritual is an important part of Tibetan life in the mountains, and it makes sense as a way to focus the mind on the challenge ahead, just as ritual activities en route encourage rest and recuperation as well as spiritual improvement.

The evening of the 29th, our small group stayed the night in this lady’s house in Bala. Her name is Qizhu Baiqiu, and she is among the last of the Bala villagers to remain on the mountain. Since the early 90s, most families have moved down into the Gangqu river valley, where there is now a sealed road and the “Shangri-la Grand Canyon” tourism development to employ them. Most of the houses in Bala have already started falling apart from neglect, though there are plans to rebuild some of them as guesthouses. All the Bala families trace their origins to Batang County in Sichuan; why exactly they moved to such a remote place is not known, but it was probably as a result of defeat in a clan conflict during the Qing era.

Yang Xiao and Lucian Muresan approach Naidang Pasture; above are the glaciers and main peaks of Gezong.

The yak herders had all gone down the mountain for the winter, leaving their huts free for us to use.

Day 2 on the mountain. Ordinarily, we would have a mule team to carry gear and food, but this trail is too steep and difficult for pack animals. Our team of locals numbered four, each carrying about 15 kilos. We began the day at around 3,500 meters on Naidang Pasture, descended to about 3,200 meters and then began a six-hour climb to Jiazega Pass, just over 4,700 meters above sea level.

By the time we came within sight of the pass, Lucian was finding the altitude hard to cope with.

Although it’s a steep climb, the path is actually in pretty good condition. There’s no great difficulty, except when it comes to breathing.

Lucian picked himself up to celebrate crossing the pass just a few seconds before the sun dropped behind the range. Our Tibetan friends cast their prayer papers to the sky with cries of “Lha salo” (or something like that), which Lucian’s online Tibetan dictionary translates as “Glory to victorious God”. I suspect that should be “gods” in the plural, however, as Tibetans have rather a lot of them.

Once over the pass, it was still a two-hour trek to camp, first rounding this lake, Luozu Cuo, and then descending to a lower lake where there were more handy herders’ huts.

Two days before the full moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Day 3 at breakfast time, our camp was about 100 yards from the waterside here at Cuona Cuo. If you look carefully, you can just see the waterfall by which the first lake feeds this one.

After his travails on the mountain the day before, Lucian was much perkier this morning, although by this point he had gone three nights without sleep.

Our first sight of the many and varied gentian flowers that bloom on Mt Gezong. This small mani pile marked the minor pass from which we descended to our lunch destination by Lake Ceren (below).

There are 18 lakes in this part of the range. Lake Ceren was the last and loveliest of the three we saw on this day. Locals allege there are fish in this lake, unlike in the higher ones, and while many Tibetans object to the catching and eating of fish, those who live in this area don’t seem to mind – so next time I shall be taking a fishing rod.

Although we came prepared with tents for all, we never had to put them up. Herders’ huts were comfortably spaced all along the trail.

The autumn colours were perhaps a week short of their very best. Still wonderful, though…

The rainy season was just ending, so the water of Ceren was at its maximum extent, cutting off the path that usually runs along this side of the lake.

These gentian really were this blue. The photo does not lie.

Nor does this one…

This was as far as we got, a small pasture below the towering pass, Niege, that would have taken us back to the east side of the range and, ultimately, to Bala Village again. Problems multiplied from this point. For starters, there was no water here. For anyone thinking of taking this trail, make sure you prepare for this. In spring and summer, there are herders here and the springs are running; in autumn, as we discovered, the springs are dry. We had to turn around at sunset and find our way back down to a lower pasture.

The main peak of Gezong, 5,545 meters above sea level. The mountain is commonly called Balagezong, after the village on its east side. On the west, however, it is known as “Xiangezong”, or “East Gezong” (because it is east of the village on the west side – Tibetans’ have their own logic).

It took an hour to descend to camp, by which time it was pitch dark . What had been planned as an undemanding day in preparation for the crossing of the highest pass, more than 5,000 meters above sea level, had turned into quite the opposite. We ate as quickly as possible and turned in immediately, aiming to rise at 5 and return as early as we could to our pre-planned base camp.

Day 4. I did rise at 5, but there was no question of going up the mountain. Lucian had endured another sleepless night, and by this time his nose was also bleeding freely out of one nostril. Our Tibetan friends tried a traditional remedy, gathering a herb whose name I can’t pronounce, let alone write, which was then mashed up and inserted into Lucian’s nose. It didn’t work. When a red river burst forth from his second nostril, we cancelled the original plan and Lucian and I started immediately down the valley towards the village of Xiayong (above).

Once we had descended about 300 meters, Lucian’s nosebleed cleared up. We halted and waited for the rest of the team to catch up, then continued down the long, long trail into the Shuoqu river valley.

Day 5. We reached Xiayong in mid-afternoon, stopping for a late lunch at the home of one of our porter’s brother-in-law. Dengzhu’s main room was festooned with pictures of Chairman Mao and other Communist leaders.

Dengzhu at home with his grandson.

Day 6 We returned to Bala, sorry not to have completed the kora, but relieved to see Lucian in much better shape after his first sleep in nearly a week. The weather turned on this day, so perhaps it was serendipitous that we were not still on the range at this point. Instead, we spent the day exploring the dense forest above the village, which was packed with interesting plants and wildlife. Top spot for the latter was a flying fox (even the young Tibetan villager with us, Dengzhu, had never seen one before); as for plant life, Yang Xiao spotted the magnificent “Monkey’s Head” fungus pictured below. Surprisingly, Dengzhu didn’t know that this was excellent eating. We grabbed it and fried it up with bacon for lunch the next day.

Trust me, this tasted fantastic.