Trekking Through Tiger Leaping Gorge

                                  by Jim Goodman     

on the trail through Tiger Leaping Gorge

       Once upon an ancient time, where the River of Golden Sands rushes between the steep slopes and towering cliffs of two snow-capped mountains, a tiger came hurrying through the forest.  Guided by the clatter of snapping twigs just ahead of them, a band of Naxi hunters followed in hot pursuit.  Their prey rushed headlong downhill until it reached the bank of the turbulent river.  There was no way to swim in that current and the hunters were drawing near.  Summoning all its primordial strength, the tiger made a mighty leap of over thirty meters to the other side, scampered out of crossbow range, and successfully eluded the astonished hunters.

       After the hunters returned home to tell the tale, the local people began calling the place Tiger Leaping Gorge.  Eons later it became one of Yunnan’s most famous tourist attractions; not for the legend behind its name but for the undeniable magnificence of the tale’s setting.  Here the river has cut an 18 km-long cleft between two of the biggest mountains in the province—Yulongshan (5590 meters) on the east bank and Habashan (5396 meters) on the west bank.  Picturesque villages lie scattered on the west bank slopes.  Birds and flowers fill the forests above them.  Across on the other side the sheer cliffs of Jade Dragon (Yulong) Snow Mountain rise straight up from the rapids of the river.  No wonder then that when Lijiang first opened its doors to foreigner travelers in the 1980s, most included a trek through the gorge on their itineraries.

Walnut Grove

       It was a popular though grueling way to enjoy natural scenery.  Conventional wisdom advised two full days of hiking from Daju down to Qiaotou, or vice versa.  That was assuming you were in relatively good shape, you didn’t turn your ankle on the trail, no rockslides or rainstorms impeded you, and your travel schedule was too tight to allow for a more leisurely, less physically exacting adventure.

       With villages popping into sight every two or three hours, and guest houses set up for travelers in each of them, the slower, less exhausting, more appreciative option was always available.  But in general people followed the guidebook dictum and did it in two hard days.  It became a fitness test to cover the route in only two days.  It was something to boast about in the Lijiang and Dali cafés afterwards, until you met the inevitable maniac who did it in a single day’s dawn-to-dusk mad rush.

the trail to Daju from Walnut Grove

       Since the late 1990s another option has been open for going through the gorge—by bus or car on the new paved road that runs on the west bank side all the way to the ferry landing for Daju at the northern end.  Close to the river for the first third of the route, the road gradually climbs up the slopes and is several hundred meters above the river by the time it reaches Walnut Grove, the northernmost village in the gorge.

       This road has enabled a great many more people to see and appreciate the gorge, who would otherwise have neither the time nor ability to go on foot.  Every day tour buses bring big groups to view the scenery, while taxis and minivans shuttle visitors and villagers back and forth between Qiaotou and Walnut Grove.  Veteran trekkers from the gorge’s pre-development days might assume that the new road has spoiled the adventure.  But actually, except for improved facilities and the option of fancier accommodations at roadside villages like Walnut Grove, the new road has not interfered with the traditional trekking experience.

hulling maize near Daju

view from rural Daju

       Tour buses generally just take their passengers to the spot where the tiger allegedly made its leap.  The tourists go down to the bank to pose for pictures next to a statue of the tiger.  Across the river a newly paved road ends at a creek just opposite the tiger statue and buses drop visitors here to shoot telephoto shots of the tiger from the eastern bank.  Depending on the season the river’s width here is 30-35 meters.  It’s hard to imagine even a frog or a jackrabbit twice as big as the tiger able to make such a prodigious jump.  But for people who came to bask in the aura surrounding the site of a famous legend, scientific arguments challenging the authenticity of that legend are irrelevant.

Habashan, from the Daju plateau

       For most tourists, the gorge is just a day trip out of Lijiang.  They will take a minibus to Qiaotou, a town on the Jinshajiang—River of Golden Sand—at its confluence with the Zhongdian River just inside Shangrila County.  Also called Tiger Leaping Gorge town, it is full of tourist services, especially restaurants catering to the organized groups.  A great view of the ’teeth’ of Jade Dragon Mountain is possible just upriver from the town on the road into the gorge.  And the tiger’s alleged leaping point is just a short ride away up either the west bank or the east bank.

       A few go on to spend a night or two at Walnut Grove, a short hike up from the road and the biggest settlement in the gorge.  It has several hotels and the rooms have televisions that, if the electricity works that night, offer programs not only from all over China, but also North Africa, the Middle East and South Asia.  No need to feel cut off from the world even while being in a place that looks like it’s cut off from the world. 

the gorge's northern end at Daju

hiking above the road

       Walnut Grove is a good base for short hikes to the waterfall above the settlement or the steep path through the farms to the spot on the bank known as Middle Tiger Leaping Gorge.   The narrowest part of the entire gorge is just above here, but the sheer vertical cliffs on the Jade Dragon side precluded any chance of the tiger making its leap here.  The Daju plateau rises just beyond this crevice and, on clear days, snow mountains crease the horizon further on.  With its traditional Naxi houses nestled on the hillside, a spectacular view, and the conviviality at the guest house dinner tables, a trip to Walnut Grove alone can be easier on the limbs and lungs, yet amply rewarding for the eyes, ears and nose.

Naxi mountain village in the gorge

       An option from here could be to hike to the ferry landing a few easy kilometers away and cross over to Daju.  While there is a point on this side to view the end of the gorge, the landscape around Daju is stark, with barren cliffs on the hills, few trees, a rolling plain mottled by Naxi villages and their farms and swift streams lined by mini-canyons.

       The village nearest the ferry offers accommodations for travelers and a relaxed and friendly atmosphere. Minibuses take people back to Lijiang, but the scenery all but demands a day of leisurely hiking around the area, never as strenuous as through the gorge.  The snow peak of Habashan is visible at various points.

maize harvest on the drying rack

       Yet for the fullest experience of Tiger Leaping Gorge, nothing beats taking the trek.  You tread the same high, rocky footpath the local villagers have been using since the land was first settled many centuries ago.  It is well above the road and its traffic, where the air is pure and fresh, with continuously changing vistas of the lines and shapes of the slopes and peaks. 

       The trail is interspersed with villages of the Naxi minority nationality, the same people who dominate Lijiang County and spill over into adjacent areas in neighboring counties like Ninglang, Weixi and Shangrila.  (In fact, all of Tiger Leaping Gorge lies within the boundaries of Shangrila County.)  The Naxi are a Tibeto-Biurman people with a long history, including several centuries as a powerful autonomous state.  Confucian precepts govern most of their social and cultural norms and, compared to the Tibetans, they are not as religious-minded.  No monasteries or temples stand anywhere in Tiger Leaping Gorge.

       Their villages are of a moderate size, about 15-25 households.  For the trekker, every village has a place to stay the night.  A few families have converted one of the compound buildings into a boarding house with several simple bedrooms.  If none are available, local people will put up the trekker in their own home, vacating a room for the night to accommodate the visitor. 

protective fish on a Naxi house roof

Middle Tiger Leaping Gorge

       Villagers live in one- or two-story houses of wood and stone or mud-brick, with tiled roofs and often featuring carved wooden fish hanging down from each apex of the roof.  This reflects the persistent Naxi animist belief that the fish, representing water, protects the house against the fire of lightning strikes.

       Except for those settlements at a lower altitude close to the river, Naxi villages in the gorge do not cultivate rice.  Maize is the main crop instead, supplemented by buckwheat, vegetables, hemp and sunflowers.  After the maize or buckwheat harvest, people hang the crops on tall wooden racks in their courtyards to dry them before threshing or hulling.

rough gentian

colorful mountain flower

       The view is broader and constant on the northern half of the route, from Wenjia Stream to Walnut Grove.  The trekking trail runs only a couple hundred meters above the road and is relatively level, with no forests or groves to pass through, all the way to Walnut Grove.  This is an easier stretch to hike, quite in contrast to the really rugged section between the stream and Nuo Yu village at the southern end, which is where most trekkers start.  For those who are elderly, corpulent or otherwise physically not up to such a grueling ascent, they can hire a pony with a handler to lead them.

rhododendron

Jade Dragon peaks on a misty morning

       Within this part of the route the trail ascends sharply to the pass at 2670 meters altitude.  On the southern side the path zigzags up what is called the 28 Bends.  The northern side, only marginally less steep, passes through a thick forest all the way to the stream.  But though the trees block views of the mountains, flowers of various kinds, shapes and colors decorate the paths, including two of Yunnan’s prize species—the rhododendron and the bell-shaped rough gentian. 

Nuo Yu village at the south end of the gorge

       At several points along this section of the trail viewpoints devoid of obscuring trees offer a clear view of the gorge and the peaks of the eastern bank.  These are ideal spots to revel in the scenery, watch eagles glide by, chat with trekkers hiking in the opposite direction and perhaps sit and fantasize upon what the gorge might look like if, as rumor has it, it gets dammed up and a huge reservoir is created as a result.  Will future generations of tourists ride a cable car to this pass, sit in an expensive restaurant and sip cool drinks while enjoying the reflection of Jade Dragon’s peaks in the limpid waters of Tiger Leaping Lake?

       Meanwhile, the river still flows freely and in the end the dam may never be built.  For the time being at least, visitors can still marvel at a spectacle wrought by time and the elements.  And inevitably they will depart with the fervent hope that the powers-that-be will ultimately rate the value of the gorge not for its hydroelectric potential but for its positive effect on the hearts and souls of those who travel so far to bear witness to its beauty.

view from Qiaotou of the 'teeth' of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain

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for more on the Naxi and Lijiang County, see my e-book Children of the Jade Dragon

Yaks in Yunnan

                                                                          by Jim Goodman

yaks grazing in Diqing Prefecture, Yunnan

       The road running from Lijiang, which sits on an elevated plain at 2400 meters, to Shangrila, high up on the Tibetan Plateau at nearly 3300 meters, offers some of the greatest scenic variety in Yunnan province.  After leaving Lijiang the road cuts through hills speckled with Naxi villages to the Jinshajiang, then turns upriver as far as its confluence at Qiaotou with the Chongjiang, a cleaner, swifter river than the usually muddy, sluggish Jinshajiang.

       From Qiaotou Shangrila County begins and about 20 kilometers north the road passes into Yi territory, characterized by log cabin hamlets and potato and maize farms high up on the slopes, gurgling streams below and pine forests all around.  After another 15 kilometers the road begins winding its way uphill until it reaches a chorten with strings of prayer flags attached, marking the entry into a broad, high, rolling plain.  This is the southeastern corner of the Tibetan Plateau, studded with villages of whitewashed houses and flat tile roofs, with huge wooden drying racks in the fields and thickly forested mountains behind them.  And in the pastures between the settlements and along the rural streams roam the yaks.

yak on a village path, Shangrila County

       Bigger than the largest breed of cattle, with a hump over the shoulders and cloven hooves, these domesticated yaks are yet smaller than their wild yak progenitors.  Long gone from Yunnan, and now found mainly in northern Tibet, southern Xinjiang and Ladakh, India, the wild yak males are 1.5-2.2 meters tall at the shoulders and 2.5-3.3 meters long, with a tail of 60-100 centimeters.  They can weigh from 300-1000 kilograms.  Females are smaller, about one-third the size and weight.

       No doubt in prehistoric times people living at high altitudes hunted wild yaks for their meat.  Eventually they realized the animal could be of greater use to then if they domesticated it, which ethnic Qiang herdsmen achieved about 4500 years ago.  This proved to be quite successful.  Nowadays estimates of the wild yak population range around 15,000, while domesticated yaks number in the millions.  They are classified as a separate species—bos grunnians, the ‘grunting ox’, after the sound it makes, rather than the ‘moo’ of cattle.

spring plowing

       Domestic yaks are somewhat smaller than their wild cousins, but are still pretty bulky, males weighing up to nearly 600 kg, females usually about 250 kg.  The male’s horns extend 49-100 cm, slightly curved upward at the tips.  The female’s horns are straight and 27-64 cm long.  Yaks primarily use their horns to dig through snow and ice to get at the edible plants underneath.

       The layer of atmosphere at this altitude is about two-thirds the density of that at sea level and even significantly thinner than that at Lijiang.  Visitors coming up from lower altitudes notice this right away in their breathing, suddenly a little laborious, especially if walking around or uphill too much.  The usual advice is to take it easy the first couple days until the body is used to it.  Presumably, the same thing happens to lowland animals brought up here, though that’s rare anyway.

milking a yak

       Yaks, and their human keepers the Tibetans, are already physically adapted, for they have bigger hearts and lungs.  Yaks are also better fitted against the cold than people, who must don layers of clothing to insulate themselves.  Yaks have a thick layer of subcutaneous fat and their chests, flanks and thighs are covered with long, shaggy hair over a thick woolen undercoat.  Able to withstand sub-freezing temperatures in the winter, they can suffer from heat exhaustion when temperatures climb above 15 degrees Centigrade.  Likewise, they can become sluggish, with breathing difficulties, if taken to the denser atmospheric layer below 2600 meters altitude.

selling yak cheese in the Shangrila city market 

       Mating season is July-September, with a single calf per mother born in April-June.  The newborn yak calf can stand and walk ten minutes after birth.  After about five years they are fully grown and usually live about twenty years.  They do not eat grain, but feed on grasses, herbs, leafy plants and occasionally lichens and mosses.  Because they ferment the food slowly, they only consume 1% of their body weight daily.  Cattle, by comparison, with a faster digestive system, require 3%. 

       People also cross breed yaks with cattle, producing a slightly smaller animal called the dzo.  The male dzo is infertile, so the female may later be mated with a full-blooded yak.  The Shangrila plain has many of these, but still has a vast number of pure yaks.  All types are used the same way as draft animals and sources of food.

yaks on the road north of Diqing

       Tibetans use their male yaks for heavy tasks like pulling plows and hauling logs.  Being bigger and stronger than the females, they are the pack animals carrying loads on the caravans.  The females are more valued for their milk, with its high butter fat content, from which Tibetans produce butter and cheese, essential parts of their diet.

       Usually men milk the yaks and women turn the milk into butter and cheese.  To make butter they pour milk into a meter-tall wooden tube and churn it with a pole until it reaches a certain temperature.  Then they add a little cold water (warm in winter) and the butter floats to the top and congeals.  Scooping it out, they next press it into round cakes in cold water.  To make cheese they heat the milk over a low fire, which separates it into curds and water.  After cooling, the resultant curds are strained into a cloth and dried into lumps of cheese.  Each area produces a different taste.  That of Shangrila is slightly tart, while that of Diqing tastes best when boiled and served in melted butter.  That of Benzilan, where they add sugar to the milk, is rather sweet.

yaks in winter on the Shangrila plain

       Most rural families own one or two yaks, or at least a female dzo.  Yaks are tame by nature, easy to train and don’t require breaking in like horses.  When not put to work they roam freely to feed and can be easily led back to the owner’s compound.  They are kept in a separate shed or occupy a ground floor room of the house, as the family living and sleeping quarters are on the upper floor.

       The life of a yak follows a seasonal pattern.  During the winter they stay on the Shangrila plain.  The only work required of them might be to haul timber to the site of a new house.  In the spring farmers yoke a pair of yaks together to pull a plow across the barley fields.  A woman guides the animals in the front, while a man operates the plow behind them. 

Yaks in Baimashan

       Spring is also the time the yaks shed their downy undercoat, which people comb out to collect, then process into a fiber similar to cashmere.  The long outer hair makes belts, ropes and bags.  The undercoat and outer hair grow back during the summer.

       Besides the farmers’ family yaks, herders manage numbers of them in the open spaces between the villages, especially in the glens around Bita and Shudu Lakes, east of Shangrila city, Napa Lake to the north and the valley beyond Songzhanlin.  These yaks won’t be put to work as draft or transport animals, but instead are raised for their meat and hides.  In the summer the herders take them up into the mountains, to elevations over 4000 meters.  Baimashan, between Benzilan and Diqing, is a favorite destination.

yak herders' summer camp in Baimashan

      Each family takes charge of up to 40 animals.  They must stock up ahead of time on rice, barley flour, tea and other provisions, for the nearest villages are often quite distant.  To ensure they have the means to ignite fires they carry chips of resinous spruce, and pieces of flint and steel.  They build temporary shelters for themselves, either simple log cabins or tents, often reinforced with a stone foundation.  The rains having brought out fresh grass, flowers, herbs and plants to the pastures, the yaks fatten quickly and the cows yield lots of milk.  In October herders bring them back to lower altitudes, like the Shangrila plain, to stay for the winter.

dueling male yaks

       Herds can be as large as 200 animals, but they are usually much smaller, of 10-20 females and their calves.  Males stay solitary or in groups of four to six.  They can be cantankerous towards each other, sometimes fighting by ramming their heads and pushing the opponent until he gives way.  At night the females huddle together, with their calves in the center, to protect against the cold.

yaks in Yao Shan, Ninglang County

      Besides Shangrila and Diqing Counties, yaks also live high up on Yao Shan—Medicine Mountain—in northern Ninglang County.  The herders here are Yi and the yaks are raised for their meat, hides and milk products and not put to work.  Yak meat is very nutritious, full of protein and with low fat content—3.9%, compared to 9% for chicken and 24% for beef.  The hairy hides make warm blankets and the tails are sold as flywhisks.  In areas short of firewood, dried yak dung serves for fuel.  People also use the skulls as house decorations, sometimes inscribing them or the horns with prayers.

skinning a yak in Shangrila city

       Beyond their ubiquitous physical presence on the Shangrila plain, the importance of yaks in the lives of the local people is plainly evident on a trip to the city markets.  Tibetan women sit behind tables laden with lumps of yak cheese and discs of yak butter.   Nearby stalls sell yak tail flywhisks, belts and bags made from yak leather, slings and pouches of yak hair, tubular wooden churns for making yak butter, combs and pipes carved from yak horn and rows of dried skulls.  Vendors sell fresh meat as well as strips of dried yak meat jerky. 

yak jerky on sale in Shangrila city

       When receiving guests into their homes Tibetans traditionally set them by the fire or other warm place and prepare refreshments.  The hostess will churn some butter, add hot tea and serve the standard Tibetan drink—buttered tea, believed to warm the body better than tea without butter.  A bowl of barley flour and a plate of cheese slices come with the tea.

       Yak products are also found in the temples.  Monks use yak tail flywhisks to shoo away insects indoors.  Rows of small yak butter lamps line the altars in front of the images, some of which are yak butter figurines painted with bright colors.  Butter images melt when the temperatures warm up.  Like the sand mandalas swept away after their ritual use, they are thus symbols of impermanence and new ones made for the cooler months.

yak tails, Shangrila city market

       When welcoming visiting dignitaries, high officials or renowned lamas, or at the start of an important festival, Tibetan communities will stage a yak dance.  Two performers dance under a single yak skin, one at each end.  They cavort while surrounded by spectators and occasionally dash into the amused crowd and scatter them out of their way.

       Yaks are also part of Tibetan mythology as embodiments of gods and demons.  The wild yak was an obvious inspiration in ancient times.  It was unpredictable and prone to violence much more severe than the head-butting contests of domestic yaks.  It was a dangerous prey, too, and so difficult to hunt that those hunters who did succeed were feted as village heroes.

making butter tea for the guests

yak skulls, Shangrila city market

       In the usual Good vs. Evil contests, the Lords of Heaven may assume the form of a white yak, in one story a huge white yak that emits blizzards from its mouth and nose.  Black yaks, with fiery eyes, are the incarnation of the demons of Hell.  In the Tibetan epic of Gesar of Ling, the goatherd Palé happens to witness a duel between a white yak and a black yak.  When he sees the latter is about to win, suspecting it as a demon in disguise, he kills the black yak. 

yak passing by the barley drying rack in autumn

       The surviving white yak reveals itself to be Gyamzhin, the Lord of the Gods, and offers half his palace or half his kingdom or whatever his rescuer demands as reward.  Palé requests that one of Gyanzhin’s sons be sent down to rule over Ling.  Eventually Heaven sends Gesar to be born in Ling.  Among the adventures Gesar has in his career are periodic duels with yak demons.   

       During the winter festivals at Songzhanlin and Dongzhulin, as well as the Horse Racing Festival the fifth lunar month in Shangrila city, masked lama dances are part of the program.  The skits depict some kind of gods vs. demons battle and both sides wear horrific masks.  And on Hell’s side will be at least one performer in the mask of a black yak demon.

       When the dances conclude and there’s a pause before the next event, the audience breaks up into small groups for refreshments.  Most likely this will be buttered tea from a thermos and pieces of jerky and cheese.  They might even consume it while sitting on a yak leather mat.  Yaks are in one way or another connected to practically everything Tibetans do.  It’s hard to imagine what they would do without them.

herder milking a yak in his sumer Baimashan camp

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We’ll see plenty of yaks on Delta Tours Vietnam’s route through northwest Yunnan.  See the schedule at https://www.deltatoursvietnam.com/northwest-yunnan