王尔力手抓

"Haixi Monologue: The Mirror of Salt Lake and the Wrinkles of Wilderness" At six o'clock in the morning on the Golmud platform, I clutched the wrinkled paper ticket and watched the Tibetan antelope sculpture in the square in front of the station looming in the mist. When the off-road vehicle rolled over the first rough gravel on National Highway 315, I suddenly remembered the sentence in the "Travel Writing Guide" that "writing is a revenge for reality". At this moment, the chaotic expectations and anxieties are winding out lines of poetry along the ruts on the Gobi Desert. Day 1: Prism of Salt The white of the Chaerhan Salt Lake is sharp. The one hundred yuan ticket not only brings the reflection of the mirror of the sky, but also the tiny cracking sound when the feet sink into the salt crust, like crushing 100,000 stars. The girl in the pomegranate red dress spun in the center of the lake, the skirt raised the seven-color halo refracted by the salt grains, and the salt-carrying ship in the distance scratched silver scars on the crystal belt-this land has long blended industry and poetry into a kind of magic realism cocktail. At noon, we moved to Xiaochaidan Lake. The herders moored their yak rafts on the emerald shallows. The borax deposited on the bottom of the lake made the lake water appear as transparent as a chemical experiment, as if a turquoise paint plate had been overturned in the Gobi Desert. Day 3: The Devil's Gaze The sulfur smell of Aiken Spring lingered in the nose five kilometers away. The locals call it the "Eye of the Earth", which is really appropriate. The boiling spring is like molten gold flowing in the eye sockets, and the brown calcification zone is the white of the eye covered with bloodshot. When the drone rose to an altitude of 300 meters, the scarlet vortex on the display suddenly embodied the concept of "Earth Breathing Hole" in the geology textbook. The geologist who was traveling with me took out the pH test paper, and the value instantly dropped below 2.0, which was more shocking than any doomsday movie. Day 4: The Paradox of Water The dusk of the Yadan on the water is an exquisite deception. The shadows cast by the wind-eroded rock pillars are swallowing up the last daylight, and the ripples cut the Yadan group into a geometric puzzle. Although we are in an extremely dry place with an average annual precipitation of less than 50 mm, the waves still stubbornly hit the side of the boat, as if proving some existential proposition. When staying overnight in the yurt in the scenic area, the night watchman Lao Zhou handed over barley wine: "Twenty years ago, this place was all saline-alkali land. Now the water has flooded, and it has become a new myth." Final Chapter: Slices of Kunlun The prayer flags at the Yuzhu Peak Observation Deck fluttered at an altitude of 4,768 meters. The Tibetan incense of the Wuji Dragon and Phoenix Palace mixed with the sulfur smell of the Kunlun Holy Spring, forming a kind of metaphysical olfactory montage. The Taoist pointed to the snow line in the distance: "The Queen Mother's Yaochi is behind that glacier." At this moment, I suddenly understood why the "Travel Writing Guide" emphasizes that "culture is not homogeneous" - when mythological narratives and geological chronology overlap in the same field of vision, faith and science are just different prisms for understanding the world. On the way back, I deliberately detoured the G315 Internet celebrity U-shaped highway. The setting sun melted the asphalt road into liquid gold, and a few tourists jumped on the top of the slope to take "touching the sky" check-in photos. I rolled down the window and let the wind with salt particles blow into my collar. Suddenly, I remembered the rust on the rails of the Chaka Salt Lake train - these coordinates carefully marked by the Internet algorithm will eventually return to the tiny wrinkles in geological movement one day, just like all our carefully arranged travel narratives, but a speck of dust in the amber of time. (Postscript: It is recommended to bring a windproof mask and a wide-angle lens, and wait for cloudy days at Mangya Emerald Lake. The gray skylight will make the blue-green color of the lake present a more complex sense of layering. Yak beef hot pot with black wolfberry tea is the best goodnight song in the wilderness.) #Qinghai Haixi #Haixi Prefecture Delingha #Qinghai Haixi Tour #Qinghai Xining Travel Guide #Qinghai Xining Travel Guide