Sometimes, all it takes is one photo to persuade me to visit a certain place – and that’s exactly what happened when we were in Gansu. 

I discovered a little village surrounded by jagged peaks and it wasn’t too far away from us. Buses didn’t travel the final 30km, so we hopped in a taxi which paused in traffic right as the schools let all the kids out. About one hundred kids walked past our taxi and it was hilarious seeing their expressions when they saw we were from another country. 

The drive was a scenic one, and we soon arrived at our Tibetan guesthouse. It was a struggle communicating with our host as our translator didn’t work in Tibetan, and his Chinese pronunciation wasn’t working either. But it was fine – he was a master at charades and checked us into a beautiful, wooden room with a view of the mountains. 

From the roof terrace of the hotel there was an even better view of the village, nestled in a valley beneath soaring peaks. The weather was moody, but very atmospheric with low lying clouds drifting around the mountains. 

Trails led off in all directions, so we began by following a path down to the river, and back up through a dense forest, passing the skeleton of a horse along the way. We were the only people on the hike which ended at a viewing platform overlooking the valley and the little Tibetan villages – which I imagine used to have a lot more charm as many have now been developed into hotels. 

Another viewing platform stood high up on a peak behind us, but to get there involved leaving the boardwalk and navigating through a muddy track – which we quickly gave up on. 

Behind the village was a monastery which we set our eyes on to visit next. It was nestled on a grassy ledge at the foot of the mountains. It was a quiet monastery where we only saw a single monk, but it was extremely beautiful and ever so peaceful. 

The detailing on the buildings was exceptional, with every inch painted a vibrant colour and pattern. We even peaked inside a brand new prayer hall being built – the walls were covered in wooden panels with embossed images, awaiting the detailed paint work. 

Our walk back down to the village led us past wild boars digging up the grassy fields, and horses trotting through the alleys – it was as if they knew their way back home after a long day taking tourists for rides. 

The following day we woke to blue skies – which was perfect as we had a big hike planned. In fact there’s a really long route, around 21km which we were interested in doing, but we deemed it too far. It would be over 1200m elevation gain and we didn’t want to push our bodies. 

So, we compromised, and decided to walk about 8km of the route, and return the same way. It was still a long walk with 1000m elevation gain, but it avoided the second half of the route which our map said involved lots of ups and downs. 

We may have been more tempted to hike the full loop if we’d been able to take the shuttle bus, which would have saved us 2.5km and 200m elevation, but it wasn’t running yet for the season. Although that was a perk really because it meant everyone else was too lazy to hike up the canyon. 

The route through the village to the trailhead was a treat in itself, with the sun rising behind the misty mountain, creating a silhouette of the pyramid shaped peak. We then headed uphill where we had a beautiful view across the valley and villages, where low lying cloud wrapped around the pointy mountains. 

We soon arrived in a canyon area where steep, rocky peaks rose high above us. The scenery was spectacular, and we passed a few yaks and unusual birds. Two people were being led towards us on horses, looking very cold in their puffa-jackets, but they were the only people we ended up seeing all day. 

The wide track changed to a narrow, gravel path which led us across a bridge made of tree-trunks and further up the valley. There was a dirt road that ran parallel to us, so occasionally we’d walk along it until a shortcut gave us a quicker option. 

Out of nowhere, three 4×4 cars rumbled through the dust towards us. It was all Tibetans inside, and one of the cars stopped beside us, the driver got out, opened the boot and grabbed two bottles of coke which he gave to us. It was such a kind gesture.

Not too far away was a Buddhist site set below the sheer cliffs, and it was location  where the 4×4’s had driven to. The Tibetans were leaving just as we arrived, beaming huge smiles and waving out the windows. After that, we felt like we were truly alone up there. 

The elevation gain was a breeze and we achieved the 8km distance very quickly, so when we reached our turn around point we felt reluctant to head back so soon. 

“Maybe we could continue a bit more, to the stone forest?” A mystical sounding place that I spotted on my map. So, we pushed on and were treated to a view of snow capped mountains, along with a bizarre orange mound with strange rocks standing tall like poles, or a stone forest, apparently. 

Further along the track we spotted two horses coming towards us and quickly realised it was the same people that we’d seen earlier in the morning. They weren’t riding the horses, instead, two Tibetans pulled them along, so their speed wasn’t much faster than us, and they’d completed half of the loop already. 

It made us realise that the entire trail must be accessible and doable in a day, which really tempted us. We were almost half way around the loop trail and made a spur of the moment decision to push on, climbing our way up a pass where the path became covered in snow. 

Animal tracks were visible along the steep slopes and we wondered if they were from a snow leopard – the area was certainly wild enough for them. 

We soon entered an unexpected canyon, following a river which flowed beneath a thick slab of ice and snow. Eventually we realised we’d passed the blip on our map that suggested more elevation gain, and we breathed a sigh of relief as we continued downhill. 

We began to relax, gawping at the towering peaks rising around us. But with those steep, rocky walls came landslides, and the ground was covered in rocks and boulders that had previously rumbled down the slopes. 

Just taking a break became a challenge because there was no safe place to stop. We eventually found a lone, wooden hut, and sat on the window ledge to eat some snacks. 

When we were about 4km away from the end, we came across an unexpected obstacle. So much debris had washed down the river that it had blocked the holes beneath the bridge and caused the river to spill across the bridge. The murky, brown snowmelt was quite deep and full of rapids – but we had to cross it somehow. 

We searched for some solid sticks to help balance ourselves, and then we removed our shoes and socks. I insisted we went together, holding hands while using the stick in the other hand. The current was extremely strong and I had to use all my strength to keep my legs in place while the water tried to push me downstream. Sharp stones hid under the murky water, occasionally stabbing our bare feet. It was just a short section, but it was adrenaline driven, and the ice-cold water didn’t help. In fact it was so cold it almost felt like my skin was burning. After successfully reaching the other side of the river we laid on the gravel and let our feet thaw before putting our shoes back on and continuing the hike. 

Not too far down the trail, we were confronted by yet another river-crossing, followed by another just a mere 1km from the finish line. We made it across but I was so anxious that one might be too deep or too fast to cross, and we’d have to return the way we’d come – which was impossible to achieve in one day and we’d have to take shelter for the night in the tiny wooden hut. 

Craig also realised that he no longer had a lighter on him as it was confiscated at an airport, so we had no way of making a fire and keeping warm in a place that drops well below zero overnight. 

We passed a couple of free roaming horses – a sign that we may be close to their owners, but we didn’t spot any and I wondered if we could befriend them and ride bareback to the village. 

Thankfully, there were no more river crossings, and we soon arrived at the lush green meadows sitting beneath the towering peaks – a place where the Chinese loved to take photos, and suddenly, we weren’t in wild China anymore, we were back to reality – and safety. 

The hike was very unnerving at times, but I’m so glad we pushed on and completed the full loop trail around the sacred mountain as the views were spectacular, and the remoteness unmatched in such a developed country.