Blessings on the Wind at 15,734 Feet
Today I am crossing from lower elevations (12,000 ft.) to some of the most stunning and remote terrain I have ever seen. This land is all permafrost.
At this elevation, it’s true, you believe you can touch the sky. It is an overwhelming feeling. It is easy to understand how these mountain peaks carry very spiritual meaning for Tibetans.
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Everyone in this area is Tibetan, despite not being in what Westerners call Tibet. Their features are different…shape of eyes and a darker complexion. They speak Tibetan and most do not speak Mandarin. The two languages are so different that my guide and locals often can’t understand each other. Signs are written in both Mandarin and Tibetan. And sometimes only Tibetan. After a couple days, I can now easily distinguish one from the other! The Chinese government requires local schools to teach Mandarin… which is supposed to help ensure a better future for them. (This sign is VERY unusual in that it includes English. About 200 miles further on this trip, there was no English anywhere.)
Yaks! They are everywhere, literally. Roaming the streets in small grassland towns, the side of highways, and, of course, out on the grassland and at 15,000 ft.
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They are vital to living and to the livelihood of these people. Clothing, tools, food, heat, income.
In these photos you’ll see heating in the tent is done by burning dried yak dung.
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I’m told that to buy a yak (which I guess some folks in larger towns do… as I saw one lonely yak in a backyard) costs about $7000. Because they are left free to wander at will, if you hit one driving down the highway, the owner will expect compensation! (I learned this same thing somewhere else in my travels … maybe water buffalo?…but can’t remember.)
Interesting, there is yak insurance in case of death by predator (wolves) or extreme freezing or heavy snow. The herder I was able to visit explained that each yak is fitted with a microchip or ID tag on their ear. If there is a death, they scan it and receive about $400 from the Chinese government. Not $7000, but something. The premium, which is highly subsidized by a government program across the plateau, is only about $3 - $4 per yak.
The yak income source is primarily the soft fur under all that hair. It is sold for jackets in these high elevation countries.
Even all that shaggy hair is soft! I helped clean for about an hour, taking a bunch of hair from a large bag and literally combing it with a wide-tooth comb to get the grass and particles out of it
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This hair is then made into thread with a little pulley contraption. One person pulls the pulley and the other slooooowly feeds the hair, backing up as the strand gets longer. Mine only got to about 2 feet, but you see how long this woman’s is!! They combine and twist the threads to make rope that’s then strong enough to tie down the tent!
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The thread is used to make the roof of the tent--warm and incredibly waterproof. As yak hair gets wet, it expands and fills in any gaps. I sat in a tent during a rainstorm and there were no leaks anywhere! The tents take several months to make, so many of today’s herders have gone to white polyester tents.
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Yak meat. Whether a herder sells yak meat or even consumes it himself seems to be partially an economic decision and partially based on more spiritual beliefs.
The family I visited was not far from a town visited by tourists, and so has other sources of income (like hosting me), rather than selling his yak. He admitted that herders deep on the plateau have few options, so they depend on yaks for food.
All herders seem to have an emotional connection with their herd, recognizing them individually, believing in a co-dependent relationship and--of course--trying to adhere to the Buddhist principle of no unnecessary killing.
Because yaks are treated with respect and viewed nearly as family members, their death follows Buddhist tradition. Similar to the Tibetan “sky burials” for people (seldom done these days), yak carcasses are taken to a mountain top for scavengers. The feeling is the birds will take the yak up to heaven. Indeed… standing outside with the woman of this family, she is looking up over my shoulder at the sky. I turn. “The birds,” she says softly. “They have found something.” It was said almost reverentially.
You see yak on menus (My guide had yak feet for lunch one day; looked like a lot of bones and not much meat!), although it is often described as beef. I had dumplings in “beef” broth and it was excellent.
Yak butter tea! Served at breakfast and to guests. I’ve had several and they’re all slightly different. Basically a pot of tea with yak milk added and then poured in your cup and topped of with a heaping tablespoon of yak butter.
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These ways are traditional. Many herders today are semi-nomadic, moving into stone/concrete homes in the harsh winter.
One final comment about this high altitude highway, the S460, before I go to Batang, about 20 miles from the Tibet border.
You see the roadside stake in the picture. There are miles of them at this elevation. In the winter, asphalt absorbs heat, melting the permafrost below and thereby causing huge cracks and collapse. To prevent that, these metal “heat pipes” keep the roadbed a constant temperature. They rely on the intense solar radiation and sub-zero temperatures of this elevation.
The hollow pipe is sunk halfway into the road and filled with pressurized liquid ammonia. In winter when the ground is warmer than the air, the liquid ammonia absorbs the heat, boils into a gas that rises in the pole. At the top, the cold wind cools the gas, condenses, goes back down and the cycle starts again. In the summer, the cycle stops because the gas stays at the top.
I thought this was an incredibly smart way to keep from having to do major road repair at 15,000 feet in the middle of nowhere!
Driving now further into Western Sichuan across the Tibetan Plateau via Highway 318, which enjoys a sort of cult status not unlike our Route 66.
