The Pamir Plateau by Tinglan Li
It was already beginning to dawn. I took the car to the Pamir Plateau, located in the westernmost part of China. The word "Pamir" means "roof of the world" in Tajik. The weather on the plateau is unpredictable, like a fickle deity, sometimes fuming with sunshine, sometimes turning into clouds and rain. A few hours later, I arrived at the Baisha Mountain. When I opened the car door, the wind whipped through, roaring like a wild animal. Step by step, I strolled along the desolate gravel road, inhaling the crisp air, making my way towards the lake.
Not long after, the sun pierced through the clouds, casting its golden rays upon the Baisha Mountain, giving it a radiant and ethereal glow. The fine white sand shimmered, embodying an exquisite beauty. When the sunlight caressed the surface of the lake, its waters took on a mesmerizing sapphire hue. With my right hand, I gently skimmed the water, feeling its cold touch flow through the crevices of my fingers, as if a life force was quietly rejuvenating my tired body, replenishing my weary breath.
“It’s cloudy! We should leave!” shouted the driver from a distance. As the car turned the corner, I brushed against the Baisha Mountain outside my window, so close that my heart fluttered with excitement. A voice from a distant era seemed to call out, saying, “There you are!”
As the car continued on its path, the view gradually expanded before my eyes. Vast stretches of green grass adorned with flowers and cheerful weeds resembled a lush green blanket covering the earth. Casting my gaze into the distance, I caught sight of snow-capped peaks that seemed so close under the vast blue sky. Yes, I was standing at the foot of Mount Muztagata, the Father of the Ice Mountain. This majestic mountain, cloaked in snow, emitted a mystifying and awe-inspiring aura, as if it were a guardian of unparalleled magnitude. The whistling wind at the peak sang a symphony of nature, its melody stirring and surging with indescribable power.
In the afternoon, I arrived at an ancient and mysterious stone city. Originally a royal fortress in ancient times, the Stone City was constructed atop a lofty hill. Today, its weathered walls and scattered rocks stand as remnants of a bygone era. From here, one can gaze upon the majestic snowy peaks in the distance. Moreover, the nearby Alarkin Grassland Wetland unfolds with its bountiful water and verdant flora. The guide explained that this place had been traversed or inhabited by eminent figures such as the Chinese monk Fa Xian, Master Xuan Zang, the Italian traveler Marco Polo, the Swedish explorer Sven Hedin and the British explorer Stein. It was a pivotal gateway connecting China to South Asia, West Asia, and Europe in ancient times.
Having explored the Stone City, I proceeded to the Alarkin Grassland Wetland, where the landscape brimmed with lush greenery. Cows idled across the grass, savoring moments of tranquility. Gracefully, they bowed their heads to graze and drink, their gentle interactions infused with harmonious melodies. As I strolled along the trails of the wetland, the evening drew near, leading me to a folk village ablaze with anticipation for the bonfire gathering.
In the lingering glow of the setting sun, the bonfire blazed, casting enchanting and flickering flames. The warm and gentle firelight reflected upon the faces of the people gathered, instilling a sense of comfort. Dressed in traditional costumes, Tajik dancers gracefully showcased their beautiful and distinct dance moves, leaping and twirling in vibrant displays. Their dance incorporated the essence of the eagle, a symbol of pride for a people known as the “eagles of the mountains,” the closest to the sun. In a sudden moment, one of the dancers broke away from the group, fixing her gaze upon me with a smile and extending her hand in invitation to join her. My heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As we danced together, she guided me through elegant movements, immersing me in the captivating world of dance. As the music reached its conclusion, she released my hand, offering a bashful gratitude, saying, “Thank you!”
On the Pamir Plateau, the night brought with it a biting chill. After indulging in a satisfying yak hotpot, I hastened back to the hotel. As I prepared for sleep, The guide shared a tale about a guest who returned to the Pamir Plateau year after year. She explained that this individual harbored a deep devotion for this land, regarding it as his true home—one that provided warmth and solace. He conveyed to her that this place allowed his soul to find tranquility and experience a unique kind of healing. As I absorbed her account, a peculiar warmth enveloped me, stirring emotions I couldn’t quite explain.
The next day, I awakened from a restful slumber, greeted by the flood of sunlight illuminating my hotel room. As I stretched, I noticed a hint of discomfort from the high altitude. Eagerly, I opened the window, inviting the pure morning air to fill the space. The sky above the Pamir Plateau shimmered like a precious jewel, with sunlight casting its brilliance upon the expansive mountain ranges. After breakfast, brimming with anticipation and curiosity, I embarked on a journey along the Panlong Ancient Road. This road is nestled within the majestic Kunlun Mountains, reaching an impressive altitude of approximately 4100 kilometers.
The experienced driver expertly navigated the twists and turns, gradually crossing the Panlong Ancient Road, which consisted of over 600 S-curves. With a touch of pride, the driver remarked, “After these bends, life thereafter is nothing but a straight road.”
Gazing left and right, I was captivated by the breathtaking scenery unfolding before me. The mountain ridgelines resembled towering spines, connecting the souls of these majestic peaks. When lifting my gaze towards this ancient backbone, I could perceive the strength and grandeur embedded within. Proudly traversing through the mountains, it reached towards the sky. Standing upon the ridgeline, I felt as if I could embrace the purity and boundlessness of the heaven.
The most awe-inspiring aspect of this land lay in the texture of the mountains. As the wind swept from afar, these extensive ranges, shaped through millennia of erosion, bore unique imprints left by the passage of time. Observing my surroundings, I discovered that each mountain possessed its distinct form and character, quietly conversing with me. Roaming within the intricate patterns etched into the mountains, I sensed an intimate connection with their existence. Gradually, my own sense of self faded away, allowing me to perceive the vastness and temporal expanse, as well as the profundity and poetic essence of existence.
Underneath the distant mountains, a humble house stood amidst trees, while sheep peacefully grazed with their heads lowered. This picturesque scene evoked a sense of simplicity and primitiveness that resonated with the land. Continuing my journey, I passed by the Bandir Blue Lake, as the car accelerated along the Tasha ancient road, heightening the thrill of each turn. Gripping onto my seat, I marveled at the undulating mountains adorned with peculiar peaks. It dawned upon me that this ancient road must have been an essential passage for both merchants and travelers in the past. Suddenly, as I rounded a corner, a veil of black clouds enclosed an open valley, casting me into a rain-shrouded world.
Emerging from the rainstorm, the car traversed through the skies veiled in darkness. Eventually, I arrived at the base of Mount Muztagata, where I decided to take a momentary rest. It was then that I noticed a herd of camels not far away, one of which directed its gaze towards me and proceeded to approach with a purposeful stride. Drawing nearer and nearer… “Let’s go!” urged the driver, jolting me back to reality. Hastily, I gathered my thoughts and rushed into the car. Suspiciously, I glanced at the rearview mirror, witnessing the camel halting in its tracks, its gaze fixed upon us in the distance. As the scenery outside the car window rapidly flashed by, the camel remained stationed at the foot of Mount Muztagata.
As the warm sun enveloped my face, I drifted into a peaceful slumber. Several hours later, I arrived at Oytak Red Mountain, marking the final destination of my Pamir adventure. The name “Oytak” derived from ancient Turkic, signifies a depression formed amidst the mountains. As I ventured deeper into the region, the magnificent sight of Oytak Red Mountain unfolded before me like an immense sculpture coated in cracks—a breathtaking red cliff. Astonishingly, the mountain is adorned with numerous bubble-like caves. This land was once submerged under a vast ocean. It is as if countless creatures once swam freely through the azure waters, while vibrant coral reefs bloomed with life's vitality. Sadly, now they are nowhere to be found, vanished without a trace. The ancient ocean has transformed over time, shaping the desolate plateau that now silently guards this land.
