Mornings can ease in or they bump in. I wake in Gebo and have somehow managed to roll not only off of my matt but make it a good three metres from where I first lay my head the night before. The night was not one of the better in terms of rest and I wake in one of those very human but deadly conditions known as the ‘don’t-even-speak-to-me’moods. The night’s unfortunate events included hours of scurrying bodies throwing themselves every which way above, beside and under our sl

Another of the faces that stay with me. A nomadic pilgrim, having just dunked her head in a stream wipes the remnants off. Toughness in the mountains is a minimum requirement and it is never something flaunted...it simply is The kora, for Buddhists and Hindus, circumambulating in a clockwise direction follows the apparent movement of the sun. The sun in question is now hidden as we wake in the camp of Chube’ka. Tucked into the valley there is only cold air seeping out of the

Drolma's energy and abilities to create from nothing a sumptuous meal, made her one of our saints It is about movement. This circle of faith is about a punishing regime of movement, with integrity, a light heart and commitment thrown in to the mix. The most stunning benefit on top of all of it for Michael and I is the outdoor element…every hour of every day is set in swaths of natural splendor, smoke and wind. The senses are engaged every second of the day, and this in turn s

The first night of sleep is under an enormous rock which overhangs our informal outdoor space. A huge sacred rock covered in money, inscriptions, prayer flags and offerings.  Pilgrims study it and raise up their eyes to it in wonder. This is our camp and at first it seems ostentatious and a little presumptuous, but as Kandro points out, “it is covered”. Our little camp beneath a sacred rock with Tseba, Drolma and a yet to be prepared dinner Our camp selected by Kandro, sits b

In their wonderfully tangible way mountains introduce, stymie and beckon. Heading northwest from Gyalthang (Zhongdian) through rows of brown folds Michael and I drop in altitude into the ‘rongba’ (valley towns) of hot valley floors only to ascend again into wider site lines and snow tainted wafts. Layers of ridges, of sky and of earth obscure pathways that have guided feet for a millennia Travel through these shimmering valleys, snow passes and taupe colored ridge-lines has n

Snow, pilgrims with tireless feet, endless spirit and mountains that one bows to every day…and the odd cup of tea. Posts of the journey upcoming #Yunnantrekking #kawagebo #Snowmountains #bonreligion #Deqin #sacredmountains #KawaKarpo #circumambulation #Tibet #Himalayas #JeffFuchs #trekking #buddhism #animism #yunnan #kora

The main peak of Kawa Karpo (Meili Snow Mountain) in northwestern Yunnan “It is when the mountains sigh, that the world is tested” Apologies as there has been little in the way of postings due to that ‘ever-clever’ issue of technology which has plagued me. Some of the beautiful bulk of the east facing range At present in preparation for a two-week expedition beginning October 24th, around Kawa Karpo with comrade in all things mountain related, Michael Kleinwort. An ideal time

Click here for the article. For access to the full feature article you must sign up (free for the first two weeks). Enjoy with a cup of tea and a lick of salt. #TibetanQinghaiPlateau #sacredmountainsofTibet #Nomad #SaltRoad #HimalayanTrade #Qinghai #Amdo #Golok #Chinatravel #circumambulation #Tsalam #Expedition #Tibet #Mountain #Himalayas #JeffFuchs #mountains #Golog #kora #tibetantraderoute #AmneMachin #exploration

Early morning wind upon an Amne Machin ridge Looking at the sky we see fierce white monotones and wind’s power, below in front of us on the earth lies a different story. A last time for securing our gear on the yak. Our morning of departure An avalanche’s disintegrating power has rearranged the land in front of us. A brutal black surge of turned earth, stones and newly formed shaped forms that stretch kilometres across the valley. The results of an avalanche rearranging the l

One of the practical necessities of a journey in Mother Nature’s realm – a solar charger We are moving higher yet – moving into ‘higher than highlands’ on a sheet of ice that is perhaps 2 km’s wide. It blankets the valley with its wide, white grace giving the landscape a clean and almost clinical beauty. Winds run wild, streaking happily across these worn down valleys picking up minute shards of ice and snow and hurtling them around. Fire upon the frozen earth is the first pr

So often it is the elders who remember tales through their time spent recounting orally the comings and goings of the past. Here Amne Machin is a backdrop of life. Breakfast often brings realizations – some stimulated by the first thoughts of the day and others brought to life from without. Tucking into bowl after bowl of milk tea this morning comes with a nugget of information imparted almost casually, which reminds me very clearly of what is key to this journey. It has to d

We awake with a shudder to mountain cold and the realization that something has changed overnight regarding our ‘team’. Clear air with a hint of blue in the sky as dawn gives way to day waits…. while by the fire a strange figure coaxes more heat from the coals. Our canine friend is stretching out his little limbs to rid them of cold. The larger mastiffs have all disappeared – home I guess. It is the figure near the fire that holds me as I emerge from our tent. Where is our gu

Our two yak stand still in the blowing white snow; around them there is nothing to suggest a specific time-period and looking at their ice-encrusted wool I imagine a time long ago when gas-spewing, noise machines on wheels hadn’t yet taken over – where movement on land required the foot or hoof. Here, now, in this blowing snow beneath a mountain it is remarkably easy to imagine this time. Amne Machin is just over on our right behind veils of snow and wind. The yak stand befor

Amye Maqen (Amne Machin, Anye Machin) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amne_Machin), the stout, the muscular, and for much of time, the utterly hidden from the outside world…our first glimpse of it is of a snow capped wonder that appears far closer than it is. There seem to be as many ways of spelling it as their are potential descriptives. Neither wind blown sand nor a haze can obscure its brilliant bulk. It seems to hang from the sky as we come in from the northwest towards th

#HimalayanSaltRoute #Nomad #HimalayanTrade #ancientsaltroad #Nomads #Qinghai #Amdo #sacredmountains #Golok #Himalayansalt #MichaelKleinwort #Salt #circumambulation #Expedition #Himalayas #JeffFuchs #Golog #tibetantraderoute #AmneMachin