8/7/25
Meng Huo was a leader of the Yi people. He was popularised, possibly fabricated, by the novel ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’. A work from the 14th century. The meadow between the mountains is said to be the place Meng Huo was captured for the 7th time.
We took the sightseeing bus. It travelled 7km to a drop off point. The bus was full of Chinese people who enjoyed our presence. We were dropped off in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The domestic tourists were familiar with the area. Our lack of scenic spot awareness was hilarious to them.
We figured out the route to Beacon Tower. A surveying spot. It was the vantage point where Meng Huo watched for Shu’s army. It wasn’t particularly notable architecture.
On top we snacked on tofu and lychees. The way down was via a perfect red boardwalk. The main draw of the scenic spot was apparently ‘Red Rock Beach’, but we didn’t see any signs. We followed the red road and ended up in the meadow. For some reason it translated to ‘prairie’. This was the main draw for domestic tourists. There were all in the pretty flower filled meadow. Umbrellas out. Taking many pictures. They were very keen on having photos with us as well.
We found ourselves back at a scenic bus stop. When we asked about the Red Rock Beach, they shook their heads. It transpired that it had washed away. We don’t know how rocks wash away. Or whether it was just the colouring. Their colour gave rise to the myth they were in fact bloodstained. We decided to take a look anyway. Using an incredibly unhelpful, not to scale theme park type map, we headed uphill. The path was surrounded by a rich undergrowth. The sound of a fast moving river, that we couldn’t see, dominated the airwaves.
We had the faintest glimmer of hope that we would see a panda. The road was lined with bamboo. This was the only place in China where wild pandas have been released. Around 10 of them. Five years ago one was seen in the meadow. The complete lack of tourists and the cool air, made for ideal habitat. Of course there weren’t any black and white beasts. There was however, an abundance of different critters. So many different shapes and sizes. We’d never seen such a variety at home. And we never would.
It was a frustratingly long way to the end of the road. We persisted regardless. Then there they were. Red coloured rocks. We have no idea why we were ‘lied’ to but they had surely not washed away. Their red colour comes from an algae that can survive high levels of UV, the energy bringing out the colour. The often foggy conditions contributed to the organisms survival and growth. Perhaps there had been more of the rocks, a big waterfall flowed directly behind them. We started to march back down, hopeful it would take half the time.
There were still more touristy attractions to explore. A suspension bridge over a gorge and a glass bottomed viewing structure. A woman ran over the glass while we were on the end of the cantilever, shaking us. We took a long staircase back to the road and joined another set of bemused people on the bus. We swiftly got ready to ride and joined the G108 once more, happy to know it was all going to be downhill.
It was a matter of minutes before we were flying down underneath the expressway. To achieve a perfect gradient, rising 7.5m per kilometre, unlike our road, the Jingkun expressway utilised an incredible number of tunnels and bridges. One of which is known as the Ganhaizi bridge. An experimental structure that utilises a similar style of building to a rollercoaster. Not just that, the road loop de loops, not once, but twice inside the mountains.
The size of the structures was incomprehensible. We felt tiny. It was fortunate there was an interesting road to look at. Our road was terrible. As usual it was the lorries fault. They inexplicably hounded us all the way down. Who would choose to drive on this steep winding narrow road when there was such a good highway in the sky. The road was ragged. Giant potholes littered the surface. No part of the road had been spared.
Halfway down there was a climb. A narrow gorge demanded we go upwards. It was a tiny ascent of 60m but we felt it. Lorries thundered past. Most of the drivers smiled and waved with delight. The road descended again. We wound round pillars of the mighty G5, suspended above us like wafers of a biscuit. The concreted hairpins meant it was bumpy but intact at least. All in all we descended almost 1700m in 55km.
Down in the valley we roasted. The temperature easily exceeding 38C. Our road became busier. It felt like the cars were racing the rapids of the Nanya River. The many hydroelectric dams we’d seen meant the water was in a perfect channel. We were flanked by enormous motorways. They made us feel like everyone had lost the absolute plot.
The city of Shimian was blessed by the Nanya river flowing through it. It brought cool air. Hotel Tonghe was yet another generic city hotel. It didn’t take long to find the bicycles a home in the garage and find ourselves in a comfortable room. Only after filling out yet more ‘alien’ registration forms.
We were on the hunt for a second rucksack. While we were walking down the ‘pedestrian street’ a young woman approached us. She was extremely keen to help us. As the second foreigners she’d ever met, she felt compelled to assist us. She began by buying us some spiral wheat gluten snacks. Then it was our first trip to a Mixue. A chain that sells sweetened teas among other cold drinks.
Yi Liang was with her sister. Her English was pretty good though without the phone we couldn’t converse about anything in depth She told us repeatedly that her sister was shy.
She guided us to some market stalls that had a huge number of rucksacks. Mostly they were urban bags or school bags. None of them had waist straps. While we tried to assess the suitability of the bags we were surrounded by the eager stall holders and felt pressured. We took a trip to the department store too. They had more suitable bags, but we couldn’t make a decision. We would think on it.
Yi Liang wanted us to eat together, and she took us to a restaurant. She recognised the virtue of not eating meat. However, she was unwilling to go without for even one meal. She was 20 years old and went to college in Kangding. A town deep in the mountains, several hours away. She spoke frantically into our phones microphone, struggling to accept the slow pace of conversation. She was clearly intelligent and spoke of her life with an air of sadness. Dreams would be unfulfilled. Even if one studied hard and achieved highly. We could only feel even more privileged than usual. Able to explore a world she would likely barely glimpse.
After dinner we took a walk by the river. A very popular spot for the 100,000 residents of Shimian. A large park area was brimming with dancing people of all ages, especially the elderly. At around half past 8 we parted ways. It was humbling to see how much of an impact our meeting and conversation had had. A rare opportunity to speak to foreigners was not to be missed.
Twelve floors up in our room, we struggled with the lighting system. The PIR sensor in the bathroom was on a 30 minute timer. A window between the two rooms bathing the bed in light. Frankie managed to get a handyman to ‘debug’ the sensor. It was late, half past 11, by the time we finally managed to slumber.
Surly They Won't Make It 