4.6/5
If⁰²⁰⁶The Sichuan-Tibet Highway winds between high mountains and deep valleys, like a grayish-white ribbon, thrown into the folds of the mountains. The wheels rolled over, raising a cloud of dust, which was quickly blown away by the wind. Halfway through the journey, the car suddenly encountered a landslide. The rocks were scattered everywhere, blocking the way. Several Tibetans squatted on the side of the road, their faces dark and their wrinkles frosted. They said nothing, just staring at the pile of rocks, their eyes as calm as if they were used to seeing life and death. The driver got off the car, gestured with them and said a few words, then came back and announced: "You have to wait." While waiting, I looked out the window. The cliff was steep, and occasionally gravel rolled down and fell into the bottomless abyss. On the opposite hillside, several yaks chewed grass slowly, unaware of the plight of mankind. Three hours later, a dilapidated bulldozer came "thumping" and cleared the passage in a few strokes. When the car started again, the sunset had dyed the snow-capped mountains golden. The Tibetans waved their hands, and their figures gradually blurred in the twilight, as if they were part of the mountain. The road continued to extend, and the dangers were always like this.
No. 1 of Fall Viewing Attractions in Maizhokunggar