Tibet 1.8 - The Mystic Valley (July 1 2009)

I love the forested parts of Tibet. Here we are so high, the forest looks like it is on fire with all the clouds clinging to the mountains like smoke. Yesterday we landed next to a beautiful alpine lake. The lake is fed by glacial waters and as a result is completely turquoise in color. On the lake is a small island on which sits a buddhist temple. Prior to our arrival, Jun referred to this area as a hidden treasure. Well hidden it is no longer. They (the Chinese government) has expanded and paved the roads, built a parking lot for cars and tour buses, and are building a large visitors center in order to charge tourist who come into the area. From what I can tell, admission to the area is pretty much limited to visiting the temple on the island, yet from what I understand, newly built footbridges too the island.

Anyway, we are staying at a ‘resort’ of sorts. I share a little cottage with Jun, Jackie and Sue. There is a nice front porch where we can hang out on and watch all the pigs and piglets rooting in the surrounding yard.

Today we ended up collecting in a place that I like to call the mystical valley. To get there we had to go down a dirt road that was restricted by a gate. We had to wake up the guard who was fast asleep in a windowless shack. It was kind of amusing as we could hear him fumbling in the dark of his little hut for some clothes only to stumble groggy, hair a mess, into the daylight, to let a few American and Chinese scientists through his gate. Despite the inconvenience to him, he seemed quite amicable. Probably the most action he would see all day from his relatively remote corner of China.

As we drove I noticed what seemed to be many new buildings that I assumed represent the increasing prosperity among the Tibetan people. I can only imagine that it is compensation from the Chinese government for the commercialization of the lake area. I feel safe in this assumptions since I noticed that the frequency of new homes dropped off the farther into the valley, and from the lake, we traveled. As we drove the stone Tibetan homes were less frequent as the communities were built up with the traditional rustic log-cabin type structure.

The the farther we got into the valley, the more remote the setting and more breathtaking the scenery became. The valley stretch off in either direction, fading into the distance behind a mist of clouds and rain. The river that wound through the valley, and the one that fed our lake, was the same beautiful turquoise like the lake. On the opposite side of the valley you could see the white cascades of a massive waterfall that, even from a distance, trembled with a roar you could feel in you chest. Though it was the clouds and rain overcast the valley you could still make out the shadowy peaks that silhouetted through the mists. As these were the immediate peaks that shown through the low-lying mists, I imagined that on the ridge behind loomed even larger and more ominous mountains.

Part of the mystical quality of this valley was the feeling of being in a place that few outsiders experience. We drove as far as we could into this valley with our vehicles. There was no road after this, though we knew the valley

and the Tibetan communities that lived there continued on. Many of these communities live entirely off the land and their livestock. Yaks, horses, pigs and other livestock roam the land freely. One amusing moment was when a yak started following Jun. She didn’t know what to do, or why the animal was following her, but decided to keep moving. The yak, perhaps recognizing it’s mistake, soon left her alone. Later on we noticed something that might explain the animal’s bizarre behavior. While we were eating lunch a Tibetan woman was chatting with and luring her yaks back to her home. They seemed to be like puppies or dogs following their master. I noticed she was wearing red and wondered if the yaks had become imprinted to the color. Until Jun came to the valley with her red jacket, the Tibetan woman’s sweater was really the only thing in the valley that was that color. Anyway, an amusing episode to say the least.

Since there was so much livestock around the meadow, the place seemed heavily grazed. Not unlike every other place in this part of the world where people depend upon their animals for subsistence. However, that didn’t stop there from being numerous species of Primula, Ranunculus and other herbacious flowers carpeting the ground. Toward the edges of the valley, the forest creeped into the meadow with, fur and spruce trees. This is where I started to look for fungi and found some nice stuff. An Inocybe, a few Amanitas, and a nice Gymnopus collection. I’m particularly interested in the Gymnopus I’ve been finding considering it was the topic of my master’s thesis. I like to see if any of the species I’ve been collecting add up to something new.

The day was interspersed with rain. There were some buzzkill moments when we lost our other mycologist, Feng, in the woods. Apparently he did not realize, that when we stopped briefly on the drive back to look at the plants that it was supposed to be short. We ended up losing track of him in the rain and cold for about an hour. He turned up though, and on the way back found a monster Leccinum. Obviously this turns and old addage on it's head into, “No bad deed goes unrewarded.”

Later, the sun ended up coming out and we made yet another stop where there were no fungi. So I ended up assisting the botanists and ended up collecting what Jun tells me is a new plant species.... Go figure! Glad I could help.

I loved this place. It was definitely one of the more enchanting moments of my trip....

Cheers,
Andy...