Yading Nature Reserve: Revisited

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  Yading Nature Reserve, China
Thursday, November 3, 2005

Chenrezee, Yangmaiyong, and Chana Dorje--the main triumvirate of bodhissatvas in Tibetan Buddhism. These three bodhissatvas represent Compassion, Wisdom, and Power, respectively. They also manifest themselves in this world. The Dalai Lama, for example, is considered the living incarnation of Chenrezee. Holy caves are home to stupas, mani stones, and prayer flags paying homage to these bodhissatvas. At Yading, a nature reserve in southern Sichuan Province, these bodhissatvas take the form of snow mountains, each 6000 meters in height.

A bodhissatva is an enlightened being that forsook Nirvana in order to help others in their path. They are guides, and each one has his own lessons to teach.

On November 2, Jeremy and I headed to Yading to see what we could learn. We learned more than we bargained for.

I met Jeremy about a month ago in a small cafe of old town Zhongdian. He was on break from teaching English at a small town, Gazaa, about two hours north. Describing himself, Jeremy says he's a "lost soul" of sorts. He picked a good place to get "lost" in Southwest China. As a whole, he thrives on communication, whether through the French Horn, Chinese, or English.

We met again during the Shangri-la music and arts festival, during the last few days of October. The festival was full of good people, music, and ideas. I enjoyed a great walk along the hills surrounding Zhongdian with Jeremy and the United Nations Ambassador to China, who was from Pakistan. We talked about the future of China.

Also arriving just in time for some of the festivities was Tim and Cindie Travis, from downtheroad.org.

01 Yading Sketch Map

They had just completed the most difficult leg of their world-wide bike tour so far--through the passes and plateaux of Kham in Western Sichuan. I enjoyed catching up with them since I biked the Houtongs with them in Beijing. We listened to traditional Tibetan music over many cups of Jasmine tea.

When I told Jeremy about my plans to return to Yading, he immediately wanted to go. He was on board. We prepared a week of food and packed our backpacks.

The bus was set to go at seven the next morning, although the ticket counter closed before we could buy tickets.

The next morning, after a light sleep full of anticipation, I headed out the door to the new WWF apartment, hidden behind a truck depot with a pack of stray dogs, chickens, cows, and heaps of trash. Around the corner, the 15-foot tall iron gate to the depot was closed for the night. After trying to wake a guard or someone to no avail and trying various methods of getting out, I climbed my way up the gate with my full backpack.

At the top, the metal spears did their job--I was skewered, with a four-inch tear in my old waterproof pants. Slowly and carefully, I extracted my pants from the spear and descended to the other side. Duck tape was becoming a main component of these pants after years of trips through rugged forests and mountains.

Minutes later, the bag of oranges I was carrying split in two, sending oranges scattering around the dark sidewalk: it was an inauspicious beginning.

Next, the bus was sold out.

02 Village Compound

Was this trip really going to happen?

In this case, my resolve was strong, as I had a history with Yading.

Two years ago, I went to Yading. Its beauty and power stunned and charmed me. I consider it one of the main reasons that Southwestern China was the first main stop of this journey. I also had unfinished business.

See, two years ago, I decided to go to Yading not knowing what to expect. Yading was not in the guidebooks and I only had a little information back then, including a very general and poorly drawn map: "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way." Yading was out of the way, remote, had no bus service, and I was quickly running out of money, as there were no ATMs for miles. Still, I had a week of food in my backpack and a few days of time.

After getting a short ride on the back of a tractor, a Tibetan monk on a motorcycle picked me up, 50 pound backpack and all. My e-mail to friends and family, sent two years ago continues:

"This was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. We heading up the mountain pass, and took a break near the summit, just to meditate and relax. He'd come a long way already. Down the mountain pass, he shut off the engine, so that the crisp alpine wind was the loudest sound. We coasted along the switchbacks, while he chanted prayers and I held onto his waist, periodically adjusting my backpack so we didn't fall over. He dropped me off a few hours later at the next crossroads. Before I could thank him, he was on his way.

03 Chenrezee and Chana Dorje From the Gateway

He didn't want any thanks, any pictures of him, anything. He just helped me on my way. I kept walking."

Finally, after another long tractor ride up a dirt road, I made it to the gateway of Yading. At that point, I decided to stay and circumambulate Chenrezee, the Bodhissatva of Compassion. Two days into the kora, however, I took a different path, one that led me deep into a place called Kasi Gorge. I was miles away from where I started.

There I met a Tibetan family who invited me into their home:

"I was exhausted and it was getting dark, so I accepted. They took me in--the whole family: grandparents, children, everyone in between, yaks, pigs, dog, cat..."

"After a stir fry of potato and greens and a tour and lesson on Buddhist figureheads,
that night I slept on the floor by the fire, with part of the family...The next morning, one of the young sons offered me a motorcycle ride back to the crossroads. It was a difficult choice: I didn't know how far I had to go if I hiked and I didn't know exactly where I was, so hiking would be risky, but I didn't have much money and I was very tired and beat up. I took the ride."

After the motorcycle ride and several bus trips later, I finally made it to Zhongdian with seventy-five cents left. After a night of eating crackers and bargaining for a room, I cashed a Traveler's Check glad to have some needed cash.

These experiences with the people and the mountains of Yading affected me greatly and I knew that I wanted to return at some point, who knew when that would be.

04 Quza the Monk

I also wanted a chance to revisit the kora and circumambulate Chenrezee. By getting "lost", I felt that perhaps I still had much to learn before I was able to complete the kora. Something or someone was, perhaps, telling me something.

So now, two years later, we were at the bus depot without a bus.

With two Chinese people, we managed to hire a "Bread Loaf" Van, so named because of their shape and usually-white color. By nightfall, we had reached Daocheng, the county seat and gateway town to Yading. During a power outage, we walked the dark streets of the small frontier town and, despite the darkness, still managed to run into the town drunk three times.

The next morning, we left for Yading under crisp November skies--five of us: Jeremy, Quza the Monk, Carlos from Colombia, Julie from France, and I. Quza told us he couldn't do the kora this year because his knee was hurt and he couldn't afford a horse ride. I felt for him and secretly gave him some money. Carlos enjoyed talking about U.S.-Colombia relations and Hugo Chavez. He also drove for a while as the kind Tibetan driver looked sleepy.

We stopped at a small village and visited a couple of Tibetan families. One family showed me their shrine, which had a statue of Chenrezee, complete with eleven heads. The snow mountain of Chenrezee peeked over the golden larch hills in the distance as we headed south to Yading.

At Yading, also named Dabpa Lhari by the Fifth Dalai Lama, changes had happened. The large visitor center and gatehouse were completed, admission fees were charged, and a gate blocked all vehicles. We paid (Carlos adamantly refused and headed back after going 99% of the way from Colombia to one of the most beautiful places on Earth) and soon were at Yading.

For two days, we explored around the main valley of Yading, celebrated Jeremy's twenty-sixth birthday, drank Baiju with the initially-gruff Tibetans running one of the pilgrimage tent sites, tracked wildlife, hiked to Milk and Four-color Lakes, and sat in holy caves. Our campsite was in the Lhorong Pasture, right in between the three Bodhissatva mountains.

One morning I awoke at dawn and headed to the stream that bisected the pasture. Early-season ice coated the stream and I watched the reflection of Yangmaiyong, the Bodhissatva of Wisdom, as it changed with the rising sun. Several hours later, the valley was awash in morning light. As I stood still, a flock of Tibetan Pheasants fed along the stream edges.

We had made it, and I was back in one of my favorite places in the world.

The next morning we had decided what we were going to do: we were going to do The Big Kora.

Post your own travel photos for friends and family More Pictures

Goral Near Five-Color Lake	Milk Lake from a High Ridge	Sacred Cave Below Yangmaiyong	The peak called Wisdom (Yangmaiyong)
Yangmaiyong Reflection

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