Preface
In early December 2012, I received an invitation from my husband’s friend to go to Chengdu to check out a project. I decided not to waste this rare travel opportunity and planned a short trip.
I booked a flight for the next day online, then took out my 60-liter GG Goddess backpack and packed all my outdoor gear. Since I hadn’t brought any food or drinks, I realized there was still a lot of unused space in my bag. It turns out the reason I always overpacked in the past was because I’m known as the queen of outdoor indulgence in our group, with the nickname “Sister Cook.” Sleeping bag, trekking poles, snow gaiters, skiing gloves, down jacket, thick scarf...It’s definitely cold in the mountains in winter, so better to bring them just in case.
There are many places you can go from Chengdu. I had done some research online beforehand, so I felt confident that there would be options. I planned to look for group activities gathering in Chengdu after finishing work. But after landing in Chengdu, I couldn’t find a suitable trip before my work was done. There were only a few events around Christmas and New Year’s, but I couldn’t wait that long.
Winter is the off-season for outdoor activities, but I didn’t expect it to be this quiet — why is everyone so busy? In the end, I decided to go solo, to go wherever I could. Once I made up my mind to go alone, I felt free to choose any destination. Mount Siguniang had been my biggest wish since I joined the outdoor community two years ago, and it was also the first place I had planned to visit before coming (though that trip got canceled). Once I decided to go, I called Luo Luo, a local high-altitude guide, to meet, eat, arrange transportation, and hire a local guide... By the time everything was settled, it was already 10 p.m. on December 12. 12.12, love and love — I love climbing, I love exploring, and without love, this journey would never have begun.
P.S., Luo Luo and I met online. It was our first time meeting in person. Luo Luo became one of the most supportive friends on this trip. When I hesitated about going alone, you assured me I’d be fine, and indeed I was. Your confidence gave me strength, and it made me realize how important mutual trust really is.
Outbound Journey
At 9 a.m. on December 13, 2012, I began my journey. The person who picked me up was a handsome Tibetan guy named Xiao Yang, driving a Mitsubishi Pajero. He had driven people down from Mount Siguniang the night before and was now taking me up.
There were three of us in the car: Xiao Yang, me, and his sister. We got a shared ride at the price of a private car, and we chatted like old friends along the way. What a fateful encounter.
The post-earthquake reconstructed city of Dujiangyan featured wide roads lined with landscaped greenery. The thoughtfully designed, uniquely shaped residential and office complexes caught my eye and overwhelmed me with their novelty. The “Horse Stepping on a Flying Swan” sculpture looked even more magnificent and impressive than when I last saw it six years ago. Thanks to the joint efforts of people across the country over the past few years since the earthquake, this historic city with over 2,000 years of culture has regained its charm. 
The road from Yingxiu to Wolong was the toughest I’ve ever traveled in my life. The devastation left by the earthquake was still shocking to witness. The riverbed, filled with rubble and raised by 10–20 meters, was flanked by a rugged mountain road newly carved out along the hillsides. The entire route was dotted with narrow sections prone to landslides due to unstable post-earthquake geology. There were many falling rocks, and traffic moved slowly, with one section blocked for nearly an hour. I hope this once treacherous path will soon become an easy passage.
Once we entered Wolong Town, the road became much smoother. The geology here is stable, and the original landscape has been well preserved. The houses in Wolong Town are also quite beautiful. The microclimate here is distinct — moist and warm — with a pale blue river rushing alongside the road, and lush, green vegetation covering the surrounding mountains. To our delight, we even spotted a group of adorable monkeys foraging by the roadside.
After leaving Wolong, we began ascending toward the Balang Mountain Pass. In Tibetan, Balang Mountain is called “Abalangyi.”MythLegend has it that “Abalangyi” is the father of the Four Sisters. The main peak of Balang Mountain stands at 5,040 meters, and the pass is at 4,523 meters, making it one of China’s higher and more famous highway passes. Along the way, I noticed a man cycling over Balang Mountain — the toughness of plateau men is truly remarkable. Pressing forward fearlessly.
Although the altitude rose rapidly, I didn’t feel much due to all the excitement. However, Xiao Yang’s sister experienced ear barotrauma and couldn’t hear us talking. Seeing someone used to high altitudes having a reaction made me feel uneasy. If she’s reacting, what will happen to me, since I’m heading to climb a snow mountain?
Mount Siguniang, here I come!!
Rilong Town
We arrived in Rilong Town at 4 p.m. The sky was overcast. I was welcomed by Lao Lu, the owner of the Mountaineers’ Base Camp and a local high-altitude guide. Since he’s a bit younger than me, I’ll just call him Guide Lu. He was very warm and made me feel instantly at ease, as if we were old friends. Staying with him felt like coming home. I really liked the interior decor, and the conditions were much better than I expected — I could take a shower and access WiFi. For dinner, I had a four-course meal with soup all to myself...
The house’s exterior was built with standardized designs funded and constructed by the government. His family had just added four floors this year, so the outside hadn’t been finished yet. Guide Lu was constantly busy, with phone calls coming in nonstop. His hardworking wife was making sea buckthorn jam.
Through chatting with Guide Lu’s family by the fire that evening, I learned that a group of over twenty people was planning to climb the Second Peak on Saturday. Coupled with the fatigue from the journey, I started experiencing discomfort — headaches and heavy breathing when going up and down stairs. So I decided to cancel my original plan of entering the mountains with a guide on Friday. Instead, I’d rest for a day to acclimatize to the high altitude and join the larger group on Saturday.
December 14, 2012 (Weather: sunny, light breeze, daytime temperature 5–8°C)Beautiful Rilong Town — the Alps of the East. Let me spend a day appreciating you properly. Many beauties cannot be expressed in words, so I’ll let the photos do the talking.
After a day of rest, I felt no discomfort, and I ate more at each meal than I usually do at home. At 7 p.m.,the large group arrived. They quickly finished dinner and went back to their rooms to rest. I stayed with Guide Lu and a few guides who would be going the next day, chatting and sipping tea by the fire. At one point, Guide Lu said something that thrilled me: “Don’t worry, I’ll go up the mountain with you tomorrow too. Judging by your condition, I believe my nephew and I can definitely get you up the Second Peak.” That was such a sincere promise — so sincere it might make outsiders misunderstand, and I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. We talked until 10:30 p.m. before heading to bed.
The Journey to Mount Siguniang’s Second Peak
December 15, 2012 (Weather: sunny, light breeze, daytime temperature 5–8°C). We set off at 9:30 a.m. As I pressed my fingerprint on the “waiver of liability” form at the management bureau, my heart skipped a beat. I felt like I had entrusted everything to Mount Siguniang. I silently prayed, “Mount Siguniang, I love you so much, please don’t make me claim that 800,000-yuan insurance payout!” We bought tickets at the entrance of Haizi Valley and took a commemorative photo at the gate.
Since I had spent five hours hiking around Riulong Town the day before, I felt in great physical condition. I decided to take it easy at first—no horseback riding—and hike up the mountain with the group for another round of acclimatization. The initial north-facing slope still had quite a lot of snow.
We walked and took photos along the way because this was the only stretch where you could capture the most beautiful views of Mount Siguniang. When we finally saw the clear, true face of the Four Girls, everyone was thrilled. This season, the Four Girls are very beautiful, though March is even better, when there's the most snow.
Mount Siguniang consists of four continuous peaks,heightstanding at 6,250 meters, 5,664 meters, 5,454 meters, and 5,355 meters respectively. These four peaks are covered in ice and snow year-round, resembling four graceful maidens draped in white veils, standing majestically one after another above the two "Milky Ways" of Changping Valley and Haizi Valley.
Mount Siguniang’s Yonmaid Peak—the eternal classic, a symbol of technical climbing—is a mountain that has created climbing myths and legends, a gateway that tests the body and spirit of climbers. Before it, you must either transcend or leave empty-handed. Its ridges bear the marks of top climbers and the tears of those who failed. Only truly courageous and determined climbers can claim its honor; this challenging peak belongs only to those who can endure hardship. Since 1981, no more than ten teams have successfully summited it in over thirty years.
After passing the firebreak, we took a small path. This section of the climb was quite strenuous, but once we reached the top of the slope, we entered the sunny alpine meadows.
We took some photos, the team took a short break, and then continued on our way.
Guide Lu, noticing my excitement, reminded me: “It’s time to get on the horse. Don’t waste your energy needlessly—the road ahead is long, and you might not handle the 1,000-meter ascent well.” “Being obedient” was one of my key lessons for reaching the summit. Seeing how several people couldn’t make it to the summit from base camp the next day made me realize just how important it is to listen.
This is the Haizi Valley protection station—pretty, isn’t it? We had lunch and rested here.Haha, I got some great shots—going to post them all. Every single one is beautiful. After a bowl of instant noodles—my most delicious meal ever. Honestly, I rarely eat instant food, but it’s different here.
Time to hit the road again. Time waits for no one. The weather tends to change quickly in the afternoon here, and Guide Lu urged everyone to hurry up. Sure enough, as we continued ascending, the wind picked up, the clouds thickened, and the sun started playing hide-and-seek with us, appearing and disappearing intermittently.
Actually, horseback riding isn’t all that comfortable—after a while, my knees really started to hurt. About every hour, I’d get off the horse again, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I walked and took photos along the way—photography is always the biggest highlight of my trips because I want to capture my feelings.
We were getting close to base camp, and the sun had completely disappeared, bringing a sense of cold. With no scenery left to enjoy, I stopped showing off and got back on the horse to keep moving.
December 15, 2012, 4:00 PM (Altitude: 4,200m, Weather: Overcast, Wind: Force 4–6, Temperature: -5°C)We arrived at the Second Peak Base Camp as scheduled. There was no scenery, no sun—only cold and strong winds. Fortunately, there was a warm stove, a windproof wooden cabin, and the respectable mountain caretaker.We ate hotpot around the stove—haha, unexpected “presidential-level” treatment at the Mount Siguniang base camp, which really delighted me. Since we had to wake up at 3 AM the next day and depart at 4 AM, after dinner I warmed myself by the fire for a bit, took Guide Lu’s advice to walk around the mountain a little to help my digestion, and was back in the wooden cabin by 7 PM. It was truly about resting and recuperating—but there was no way I could sleep. For one, my body clock usually has me asleep by midnight at the earliest, and secondly, I started getting a headache—a really bad one. Oh no, altitude sickness had hit.
I tried to endure, and endure again, but it didn’t work. And it was already 10 PM—I couldn’t hold out any longer. I rummaged through the first aid kit, found some painkillers, took them, and they actually worked. Soon after, I actually fell asleep.
December 16, 2012, 3:00 AM (Weather: Clear, Light Wind, Temperature: -15°C)
I got up on time at 3 AM, feeling fine with no discomfort. I geared up completely, had a meal at 3:30 AM, and set off promptly at 4 AM. While doing the headcount before departure, I noticed that out of the twenty-plus-person team, only about a dozen were setting off this time. The members of this team were all locals from Chengdu, the oldest being just three years younger than me—all seasoned outdoor enthusiasts, young and strong. Seeing this made me realize just how debilitating altitude sickness can be. I was grateful for having listened to advice. Guide Lu, I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Walking through the pitch-dark, frigid mountains, I looked up at the starry sky—those stars and our headlamps reflected off each other, blending into one. It was the only scenery I could see at the time. Of course, this can only be described in words.
Following behind Guide Lu’s nephew, I moved forward aimlessly step by step. At first, it was nothing but continuous ascents with slopes of 40–50 degrees—no gentle slopes, no traverses, and snow so deep it reached my calves. I hadn’t gone far before I started experiencing shortness of breath, palpitations, breathlessness, and headaches. I had to stop and take deep breaths every few steps to keep going. During this, I repeatedly asked Guide Lu one question: “Can I really make it up?” Feelings of self-doubt, fear, and thoughts of turning back kept popping into my head. Guide Lu told me: “Don’t rush, just walk slowly and maintain a steady pace.” I stopped trying to keep up with the group and fell to the back. Just like that, walking and stopping, it took me two hours to get past the human body’s critical period. The discomfort faded away.
Once we reached the plateau, the slope eased, and I picked up my pace. By then, I had caught up with the group. Maintaining a steady pace had initially left me far behind the others, but it also allowed me to easily keep up during the second half and gave me time to stop and take many beautiful photos as the sun began to rise.
Sunrise at an altitude of 5,000 meters
After the plateau and up to the pass, there was another steep ascent—entirely on a scree slope with gradients as steep as 70–80 degrees, and the rocks underfoot were unstable. I had to be extra careful, sometimes even dropping my trekking poles and crawling on all fours. I didn’t take any photos here—the light was too dim, and I didn’t have a chance. I took some on the way down, which you’ll see later.
The moment I reached the pass, I was overjoyed—the sunlight was golden and bright, absolutely gorgeous. I took photos. My feet were still standing on the scree of the pass at that moment. Hehe.
After reaching the pass, I rested for a bit, caught my breath, and began the final, intense ascent. Along the way, since the group ahead slowed down, I took a few more show-off photos—the photographer was Guide Lu’s nephew, Comrade Xiao Lu.
The slope grew steeper, the snow underfoot more slippery. Halfway up, I discarded my last trekking pole and used my hands to grip the steel cable as I climbed upward.
After the plateau, I felt full of confidence—the final stretch was naturally nothing. No altitude sickness, just good mood.
When I reached the summit, my face was all smiles, and the photos turned out beautifully, of course.
Take photos of each other, take photos of each other!! For memories, for memories!!
Time to start heading down after a little showing off!! If we don’t go down now, the strong winds will come, and the closing time at nine-thirty will be here.
Going up is easy, coming down is hard — everyone knows this truth, and this return journey is really tough. There were several snowy slopes where my buddy Xiao Lu was protecting from below while I just sat and slid down.
When I reached the pass, I looked up at the distant mountains — sea of clouds!! Because the light was too strong, I could only see it clearly through my polarized sunglasses. Took a photo, will try Photoshopping it when I get home. The image below is the result, still not ideal though.
After passing the pass, we began an endless descent down a slope of loose rocks. Let’s add a few more photos.
After this section, my feet started to go soft, and I had no choice but to stop and rest. Taking photos is naturally the best way to rest.
My high-altitude support buddy Xiao Lu — his silhouette is pretty handsome too.
The return journey felt incredibly long; I couldn’t imagine how we had managed to climb up earlier. “If it had been daytime and I could see the path, I probably wouldn’t have made it to the top,” was the most repeated line on the way back. Ignorance is truly bliss.
At two in the afternoon, the whole team victoriously returned to base camp. Everyone quickly packed their bags and set off on the road back to Rilong Town.
Sunset on the way back
We returned to Rilong Town before dark. Ate, showered, and rested.
On the Return Journey
The next day, I didn’t see Guide Lu — he had gone to help slaughter a pig for a friend’s elder’s birthday celebration. Xiao Yang took me back to Chengdu. The return trip was again full of endless scenery.
Monument to the heroes of the Wenchuan earthquake
Back in Chengdu, I reported my safety to Guide Lu, Luo Luo, my family, and friends. My journey to Mount Siguniang came to a fulfilling end.
Epilogue
On the way back from Chengdu to Beijing, I began to reflect. The most beautiful scenery can only be truly appreciated while you’re on the journey. This trip, which came about purely from a moment of impulse, turned out to have a perfect ending.
Thanks: to Luo Luo, Guide Lu, Xiao Lu, my fellow travelers, the mountain watchman uncle who cooked and boiled water for us, the other guides on the trip; the friends from the Leshan Outdoor Group who constantly cared about my safety; my family who supported and encouraged my passion for outdoor sports... and so many others — I’m grateful to have met you all in this life. Without your care, support, and help, I wouldn’t have made it this far. I also want to thank the amazing weather. Winter mountaineering may be cold, but compared to the rainy season, the weather is much more stable, with clear skies and great visibility. Winter snow-capped mountains are the most beautiful.
Touched: Reflecting on the journey up Mount Siguniang II, from the Hailuo Valley entrance at 3,200 meters in Rilong Town — to the base camp of Mount Siguniang II at 4,200 meters — and finally to the summit at 5,276 meters. The one-way distance was roughly 24 kilometers of mountain trails, with an elevation gain of over 2,100 meters. I experienced her divine beauty with determination, as well as the physical strength and endurance built up over two years of outdoor activity. I was even moved by my own perseverance.
Reflection: When you’re stuck in the hustle and bustle of the city, repeating the same daily routine, used to greeting sunrises and sunsets, please set aside some time for yourself. Walk amidst the mountains and rivers, go to the mountaintop to experience a different view, and you’ll discover just how wonderful the world is. You’re capable of anything, in an incredibly joyful mood, filled with passion, falling in love with every corner of nature, and cherishing the feeling of being on the journey.
Written on December 21, 2012, at the beginning of the new Mayan era (End)