Tashi Delay

By Charlie Fowler

On my first trip into the heart of Tibet, in 1994, I traveled west across the length of China from Beijing to Kashgar with duffle bags full of mountaineering gear. Paula Quenemoen and I hoped to make the pilgrimage 'round holy Mount Kailash and explore some nearby mountains.  Tashi Delay, as they say in Tibet: “Good Luck”. 

In Kashgar we took a public bus south to Yecheng, the last city in Muslim Xinjiang Province. Hitchhiking down the highway leading into Tibet was frustrating; except for People's Liberation Army convoys, traffic was almost non-existent.  Finally, we got a ride in a land cruiser with three businessmen heading to the remote, dusty Tibetan town of Ali, several hundred miles down the road.  The 'highway' proved to be an intermittent track across some of the most high and desolate terrain in central Asia, the Aksai Chin plateau. Stuck behind broke-down army 'liberation trucks' or swamped by massive river crossings (bridges? - not out there), we arrived in Ali after three long, arduous days. 

Here, Mr. Li, an Ali policeman, slapped us with a small fine for being in Tibet without travel documents, but then he kindly wrote us permits. 

Early the next day we were on the road hitchhiking again. Three days later we were still in Ali. Then, a truckload of Tibetans pilgrims picked us up, and we negotiated our price. Out in the Plains of Barga, with the holy mountain in sight, the truck driver pulled over and demanded more money.  Weary of being scammed, we refused to pay; we walked the remaining few miles to the sacred mountain.  

From Mount Kailash our objective was Lhasa via the sacred lake Manassarovar. Our first lift, with a busload of Hindu pilgrims, got stuck, so we abandoned it for a ride in a truck, which soon broke down, too. We eventually arrived at the lake, but from there we could only get a ride back to Ali, where, once again, we waited for days. The epic continued: The “Southern Route” across Tibet crossed numerous swollen, bridgeless rivers, so drivers would connect trucks with cables, much like climbers tied together on a glacier — hairy stuff. 

We arrived in Lhasa six weeks after setting out from Yecheng. Never knowing what each day would bring, we spent our time waiting and wandering, and became skilled at both routines. I guess that's why they call it "adventure travel."