Tibetan boundary tablet
When they first arrive in Tibetan areas, all people who enter Tibet will be very concerned about the Tibetan boundary markers separated from other provinces.
Is that the border of Tibet? ! Why is my foot on this bridge? Tears were blown off my cheeks by the oncoming hot air before they could be dried by the hot sun. I stand on this bridge, this gray Jinsha River Bridge. I stand in Sichuan at this end and look at Tibet at that end.
34 days, 843 kilometers, 1265644 steps, how did my feet get onto this bridge? On the right side of the bridge, in the direction of entering Tibet, stands a boundary pillar-the Tibetan boundary. It's like turning on the light of heaven. When I walked past it, I lit the lamp.
Standing on this bridge on the Jinsha River, I can see the clouds floating on the mountain, and I can see the white houses in Tibet. I can see that Jinsha River is narrower in the distance and wider in the vicinity. Its surface is so quiet, so quiet that I think its interior is also quiet. Its color is so strong that I don't think its past is lonely. But it, so quiet and lonely, flows from high to low, waiting for a single shadow to fly by. And I, no matter which direction I stand on the Jinsha River, can't taste its thousand-year-old tears, or even hold the palm of a Jinsha River. Just like I can't taste the snow in the mountains, I can't grasp the time.
When I first met my Tibetan compatriots, I saw that their faces were engraved with wrinkles of time, with their backs facing the mountains, on the plateau and facing the sky. Those old and quiet eyes witnessed that I finally stepped into the place where they lived from the other side!
Fulb-Tenzin Co.
Haizi wrote in Poems for the Night that there is nothing in the sky after a long journey, so why give me comfort?
What's in Tibet and what fascinates so many people in Lhasa? I think one of them is the unique blue sky and white clouds.
The sky here is open to anyone.
It's true. My fingers are warm and my eyes are warm. Open your palm. It's golden. I hold my empty hands as if holding the sky. There is nothing in the sky, so why comfort me? If I can't walk in this blue sky and white clouds, will I still walk?
The sky in my memory has made me equate the distant sky with Tibet. If Tibet didn't have that sky, maybe I wouldn't go there again, let alone walk there? The sky is as vast as the sea, but it is more mysterious than the sea, because we can't taste it like holding a palm of seawater. The sky is as magnificent as a mountain, but more sacred than a mountain, because we can't measure its width like climbing a mountain.
Approaching the snow-capped mountains, I speak for Fanfan.
In Tibet, you can appreciate the charm of the snow-capped mountains with your own eyes, and if you are lucky, you can even touch the skin of the snow-capped mountains.
On the way to Tibet, I first saw the Snow Mountain in Deqin overlooking Meili Snow Mountain. The face of Snow God, the king of hills, is very cold. I saw the sun shining on her, but I didn't see the golden light.
In order to get close to the Snow Mountain, we even made a detour of dozens of kilometers to see Baima Snow Mountain. We didn't see it, but we did reach an altitude of more than 4000 meters for the first time, and a cold wind blew. Because the car was stuck in the grassland mire, it had reached the foot of Renlongba Glacier, but it still passed. After paying the entrance fee of 50 yuan, I took a close look at the glacier in Milla Mountain. The glacier is not white. But besides the blue sky, white clouds, grasslands, white sheep and yaks, there really must be snow-capped mountains, otherwise, the flavor of Tibet will not be strong.
Haizi's Tibet said, "Which Snow Mountain makes me king? A lonely stone filled the whole sky. No tears make me a flower. No king has asked me to be the throne. " Fanfan also deeply lamented the snow-capped mountains.
Perhaps it is because, looking at the king, we all become kings in our hearts.
Walking on the mountainside, there are falling rocks and dust on your face.
I also passed Rumei Town, and the deepest experience in my heart was that the environment here was too hard and the Tibetans here were too tough. People who come here to travel have a deeper understanding.
From Rumei to Kyaw Ba Village, there is a cliff with gravel falling at any time on one side and Lancang River on the other. Because it is far away, you can't hear the rumble, but its water surface always stirs up white bubbles, which is overwhelming.
I live in Kyaw Ba Village at night, which is located at the foot of Jueba Mountain, like a lonely place at the bottom of a valley. Jueba Mountain is less than four kilometers above sea level. But it seems to have been chopped down by a mountain soldier with a big axe. Climbing the mountain road is like being born on a cliff.
The straight road to Dongdashanyakou, 5008 meters above sea level ahead, seems a bit lonely at the moment. A large number of cycling teams have passed here before noon. "They must want to pass as soon as possible! Every mountain is the biggest "enemy" of our regiment, and the pass of every mountain is the biggest reward. The reward is always accompanied by pain.
There are four hates in life: I hate cycling, I hate cycling on the Sichuan-Tibet line, and I hate the slope of the Sichuan-Tibet line. I am one of them. "There are many slopes, uphill and downhill, slopes and slopes." When climbing in despair, who comforts himself: the road without scenery has come, and the chain cannot fall! Come on! Come on!
See the grassland and lie on it.
I wrote a word "big" on this piece of green.
I want to plunge into the soil and become a weed, so I don't have to be afraid of the darkness and cold at night. On the grassland, I want to talk to the sun: "Sun, can you see me?" "The sun in the sky wants to talk to the grassland: Grassland, can you hear my voice?"
The navigator said, leave the darkness and never come back. At this time, I think, Christine lying on the grassland should be leaning his head on the straw mat, looking up at the blue sky and not wanting to get up.
Go alone, go alone, go together.
Pigs walking alone on the Sichuan-Tibet line understand that only sharing is true happiness.
The excitement of the first trip is worn away day after day, and all the beautiful fantasies are infiltrated by trivial stumbling. Everyone's temperament, advantages and disadvantages will be revealed. My dizzy head and sore feet made me lose the mood to enjoy the spectacular scenery of Nujiang River. I have lost all patience and don't want to talk to anyone. I want to be alone! I want to completely close myself up and become a silkworm chrysalis that doesn't want to break its shell. Can you leave me alone? This is my inner cry.
Differences in physical qualities between men and women, differences in personal plans, time constraints and the budget of travel expenses are all quite realistic problems in this relatively closed space. And I moved these questions out one by one as a reason for me to go on alone. I started a journey alone.
In order to survive, I dare not listen to music while walking, lest I miss the whistle and die.
Music is a kind of spiritual companion, which exists invisibly in life. When I lost my fighting spirit, music made me rally; When I am full of hope, music makes me more energetic; When I can't express myself, music becomes my language; When my body hurts, music makes me forget the pain.
However, music makes me want to communicate with people, even if it's just a language I don't understand. Passing through Zhaxigang village, I am more eager to see Tibetan villagers.
At this moment, even if I shout loudly, no creature will notice me This makes me miss the days when I get along with my teammates day and night, especially when I think about the road before I leave, I can't help but feel how stupid I am.
I reminded myself: "I left voluntarily, and no man's land is the only way for me to reach Lhasa." I encourage myself: "Every successful person should be able to endure loneliness and loneliness." I comforted myself: "loneliness is only temporary, I am not alone."
How can I be alone? I don't even know who I am without others. Does that loneliness really exist? Why is it that all my thoughts on life and my understanding of myself are based on my connection with others? Why am I so eager to share the direction of the highland barley field floating in the wind?
What's the point of life without sharing? I think that one day, I will write a sentence on my tombstone-it's good to have you here.
Angel Anjoula, mt
Mountain 12, which the Sichuan-Tibet line climbed-Anjula Mountain. As the name implies, it looks like a loving angel, without thrilling cliffs.
I am warmed by the angel's light, and it seems that I can go straight to the top of the snowy mountain along this surprisingly gentle avenue with my eyes closed. The diamond wind that has been blowing for a long time has taught me what "angels and demons are the same."
I moved on with my heart torn by no man's land. Every step forward, I am writing "Diamond Wind 100 deadly methods".
Pilgrimage to Tibet
I remember the nearly hundred-year-old man climbing the crowded stairs of Potala Palace with crutches.
What a ritualized pilgrimage this is!
Maybe I understand that the life of the land lies in the growth of seeds, and maybe I understand that the life of tears lies in the inner feelings. But I still don't understand the meaning of pilgrimage
I will be moved to tears by the vegetation growing at an altitude of 5000 meters, but I can't tell the meaning of life, just as I can't tell why a leaf can record the years.
Maybe our life is a pilgrimage-from rebirth to death, from death to rebirth. I may not understand it for a lifetime, and I will suddenly wake up one morning. The answer lies in time. Why should I be greedy?
Go through Ranwu Lake and turn 72.
Forrest Gump: Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get.
Ranwu Lake, the largest lake in eastern Tibet, looks like a blue mirror even in the rain, which seems to penetrate all the filth between heaven and earth and all the beauty.
I still remember joking with my friends and saying, "I want to hang a huge mirror at home and take care of my body every day." If I could really look at myself like I said, maybe I would have understood it.
Climbing the Yala Pass at an altitude of 4,658 meters, it rained cats and dogs. Go ahead and turn 72 on the Nujiang River. Its scenery is not outstanding, but it is called the desperate bend because of its many turns.
Tangmai natural barrier
Tongmai Bridge, a suspension bridge shouldering the heavy responsibility of defending the Sichuan-Tibet line, spans the Palong Zangbo River with a total length of 258 meters. In order to ensure that the bearing capacity is foolproof, the bridge can only pass in one direction, but it is also guarded by majestic armed police like the Nujiang Bridge, and no one can stay or take pictures.
I took a deep breath, my cheeks swelled and hot air came out of my mouth. The car drove slowly past and onto the bridge. My eyes are glued to the iron plate at my feet, and my left fingernail clenched my fist is about to grind my palm to blood. Every step is as silent as possible, for fear of being cracked by me. Every step forward, the stiff right hand grasps the cold steel chain, then releases it and grasps it again. My heart is pounding and I'm walking on this damn natural barrier.
Or disaster arrival-mountain faults, boulders, soil, torn vegetation slide down, boulders hit the head, the body is buried in the soil, and the cracked vegetation is inserted into the chest, which takes only a few seconds. However, it will take you 30 seconds or more to escape. If God gives you a miracle, then maybe you can see armed police and search and rescue dogs. But what are the chances of a miracle surviving?
No one cares about the passage of time, no one complains about the situation at the moment, no one knows how to save lives, and no one speaks. Silence made me feel like I was drowning in a stagnant pool. Sometimes the lips are closed, and sometimes the lips are open to breathe. My hand holds the trekking pole tightly. Cover your head with your hands first, then bend down and hide your head and trunk under your backpack. I said to myself: run away? Where to run? Do you need a ride? The car is stuck. When natural disasters come, no matter how strong the iron sheet is, like a toy car, children can't help but break it; No matter how clever a person is, he is just a grain of dust on the vast earth.
"I want to write a suicide note? How afraid are you of thinking about things here? When death comes, there is nothing I can do. So what can I do in the face of foreseeable death?
I'm still blaming myself. Last time I was on the verge of death, I almost lost my beloved daughter to my elderly parents. Now, I'm ready to fight death again. Why don't I go home? Why should I try to realize my damn dream! If my behavior brings pain to others, I still talk about independence and dreams!
Tongmai natural barrier, is there a moment of peace? If not, how long will these road maintenance workers and armed police keep this desperate fortress every day? I just want to be a deserter, even if it only takes one day in my life, five hours a day! Why is there such a big difference between human will and human will? There is no shortage of cowards, let alone heroes!
When I passed through the Tongmai Tunnel under construction, the workers and the armed police stood guard at their respective posts. Will they think we are crazy when they see us guys taking risks on the Sichuan-Tibet line? How many times is the risk of building a tunnel in such a dangerous place compared with other terrains? 100 times? 1000 times?
When the tunnel passes, we no longer have to taste the taste of death step by step; When the tunnel passes, they no longer have to talk to death day and night; After the tunnel passes, there will be no more traffic jams.
If there were no adventures on the Sichuan-Tibet line, would you still go? If the Sichuan-Tibet line is not dangerous, will you still go? Too many mysteries wait for time to solve. If the only constant is change, then time will always remember us. We will remember every day, even if it is an ordinary day in history.
Good-bye.
Road sign in Lhasa, rainy in Linzhi
Lhasa, the destination of my trip. It's 1676 km away from me at the moment. Lhasa, it is getting closer and closer to you. But there is still a long way to go. When can I see you? Will I cry when I see you? I will! I will definitely cry in Jokhang Temple Square, and I will shed all my tears!
Lhasa is my hope. Lhasa has friends, wine, meat, Tibetan noodles and buttered tea, a soft big bed and a shower room with stable water temperature. The dangerous journey is over and the news of peace can be heard. We must live by hope, right? So I can dry my tears and walk on this damn rainy road. Lhasa! Lhasa!
Rainy Linzhi, temptation. What do you think of when you talk about Linzhi? Peach blossom? Stone pot chicken? Yarlung Zangbo River? Nangbawa Peak? I remember Linzhi in winter, where there was running.
There are Tibetan pigs, sacred mountains that break through the clouds, and hot sun in the cold. In my memory, there are big crabs swimming, caterpillars basking in the sun, rain after rain, rain day after day, rain night after night.
Milla mt
"Over the Milla Mountain, Lhasa is in sight!" I feel like a flame and the rain can't put me out. Mount Milla is 50 13m above sea level, which is the last mountain before reaching Lhasa. How will I overcome it?
When I embrace my distant relatives with open arms, I will think of the thin air leading to Erlang Mountain Tunnel. I will think of the first winding mountain road that really crosses the pass; I will think of the impermanence of the four seasons in Mount Gals, and the 50-kilometer rotten road; I will think of the day when my friend who is far away from Beijing died when I climbed the scissors bend mountain; I will think of the heart-shaped clouds at the pass of Kazila Mountain melting my heart; I will think of the sister lake of Haizishan, as clear as a teenager's eyes; I will think of Zongla Mountain and Lawu Mountain where I climbed for two days in a row, and I will be bored. I will think of the precipice, precipice, precipice that turns to the pass in one breath; I will think of the snowy East Mountain at the mountain pass and tell my father what I think. I will remember that Catherine lost her feet in Yelashan in Nujiang in 72; I will think of the loneliness of Anjula Mountain. I will think of class 1 13 in Sejila Mountain.
Empty for 85 days, 14 snow mountain, let me be king one by one.
Back to Lhasa
4632 is the last landmark to reach Lhasa. Tomorrow, I won't pass the road monument engraved with any numbers; Don't check the road book tomorrow, don't count the mileage, don't confirm the road monument; Tomorrow, I will stop getting up early, eat cake at noon and find a place to live at night; Tomorrow, I can sleep until late in the morning, and then lazily welcome the idle afternoon.
I can go to Canggu Temple to drink butter tea, and then go to Lhasa River to bask in the sun. Because I finally came to Lhasa. I'm back, Lhasa.
"Good busy, Lhasa. We are still 3 kilometers away from the Potala Palace. "
Walking in the bustling streets of Lhasa, looking for everything I am familiar with. Time has changed a lot, nothing has changed. I seem to have walked into my past. I want to run to my side four years ago and say something to her. But I was awkward and my mind suddenly went blank. It's so unreal. It's like having a dream in which I suffered a lot.
When I was sitting in Potala Palace Square, my backpack was lying next to me, as if he were my brother. The sun scorched the ground and my ass was like an omelette. The Potala Palace is 200 meters away from me, but I feel I live in its heart. I stared at it as if I were looking at my lover, for fear that it would slip away from my eyes. It won't go, it will stand here forever and accept the baptism of sunshine, rain and snow.
I sat quietly, opposite the Potala Palace. There were no earth-shattering cries and no big celebrations of laughter.
The 90-day picture is like a Latin film, one after another, slowly flashing from the front of my eyes. No matter what you eat every day, it is delicious Sichuan food, tasteless pie, hot noodles or life-saving compressed biscuits; No matter where you sleep every day, it is a clean bed, hard wooden boards, thin moisture-proof mats, or patchwork chairs; No matter how you sleep every day, you are asleep. You can't sleep with pain, or you want to sleep when you have a fever. No matter the pain every day, whether it is foot pain, back pain, fever or vomiting; Every day, no matter what the road conditions are, it is flat, rugged and muddy; Every day, regardless of the distance, it is 10 km or 55 km; Every day, forward is no man's land, backward is no man's land. Every day, the rainy season is ahead and the rainy season is back.
Every day, which step is not difficult? Every day, which step is not about life and death?
"Is that Potala Palace?"
"yes."
In the distant green mountains, the magnificent dome seems to be calling. In order to listen to this sacred call, I crossed the mountains for 90 days and came to your side.
Tibet, why are you so desirable? Is it because your air is thin, because you are surrounded by snow-capped mountains, because you are radiant with Buddha, because you are unattainable, because you are heaven in three steps or two steps, or because there is only one Tibet in the world?
When I enter Lhasa, I want to know more about Tibet. I can't tell you why I yearn for it so much.