CHINA> Focus
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CHINA> Focus
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Heaven on horseback
By Alexis Hooi (China Daily)
Updated: 2009-08-13 08:03
Prairie in the sky Feeling our way up cliffs along precarious paths the next morning, the winding torrents of the azure river below us grew smaller with every careful step. Our steeds huffed and puffed as the air got thinner, getting their first real workout of the trip. Only when we occasionally turned to look behind and below us, did we realize again that this was not something any modern form of transportation could achieve. We were going deeper and deeper into horse territory. Beijinger Wutzala, the 36-year-old chief editor of the China Equestrian Association's website, put it most succinctly: "You can see from this trip that, whatever area on land wheels cannot go and human feet cannot endure, horses reign supreme." Once we got onto the other side of the mountain, the wide grasslands of high Altay began to open up before us. Our horses rustled through flower beds, including purple patches of lavender that perfumed the whistling air of the prairie, where cows, sheep and other grazers also reveled in their freedom. We disrupted ruminating herds of camels that appeared to be contemplating a setting sun, just before reaching the Qia'erbasi campsite where, as the only group of humans for miles around, we danced around a bonfire deep into the night.
Surrealism in stone We woke up to an overcast sky the next morning, when a stubbornly hidden sun failed to warm the chilly air. But the bad weather made the mutton porridge and salty milk tea we had for breakfast taste better as we geared up to face the cold. At around noon, heavy rain and poor visibility hit our group, already halved by those who chose to return to camp to wait out the wet weather. Those that stuck to the paths soon found themselves amid sharp rock outcrops, granite-gray points and edges that punched through the fog. Local herders call this place the "Strange Stone Forest in the Sky". Our horses' steps slowed as we passed these surreal sentinels on the edge of the steppes. The other members of the group had an equally magical time. Guests of a Kazak household not far from the campsite, they donned traditional ethnic costumes, tasted homemade mare's milk and bore witness to a friendly horse race on the prairie. All had stories of the steppes to tell when we returned to the campsite in the evening as boots, gloves, chaps and hats were dried around a comforting campfire.
The Tu'erge grassland is one of the largest prairies of Altay, where herds frolic unfettered. This is where you give free rein to your horses, whose blood has been fired up from four days in the open. Our pack stretched longer as riders veered off to explore Kazak yurts, chase sheep flocks, or simply bask in aimless abandon. Then as you canter and break into gallops for hours on end through the wide plains, you realize that horse herder Wushiliu's claims are true - even on this last leg of our journey, the sturdy Kazak horses don't break a sweat. Riding on soft pasture under a cloudless sky, you also begin to understand why pastoral nomads such as the ones on the Tu'erge would never choose to stay in one place - because there is more than enough under the heavens to satisfy every individual's desire to roam the earth. As dusk settled, we rode triumphantly into the ancient Mongolian-Tuvan (Tuwan) village of Hemu, situated on the banks of a fierce river that shared its name and beautifully hemmed in by mountains densely forested with conifers. Hemu is famous for its mist-shrouded sunrises and was fully opened to the outside less than a decade ago, but tourism is already sprouting in the form of hotels, restaurants, bars and grocery stores. We left Hemu the next morning, saddened by the end of our journey, but assured of the well-kept secrets beyond the village that our horses helped us discover.
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