Hiking Minyong Glacier

We begin the hour long hike to Minyong Glacier late in the afternoon and decide to spend the night in Minyong Village.

David takes off at a blistering pace and I’m left playing catch-up by taking all the shortcuts up the mountain. One of the shortcuts I take is in fact a suicidal mission and I realise this after climbing several hundred metres, losing my footing several times and hoping I wouldn’t die. One hour later I return from the last of these shortcuts to find that the path goes in a completely different direction to the one I was travelling in.

The shortcut was far steeper than the photo depicts.

I arrive at the glacier a full hour after David and am pleased to see Michel and Sandra (from Tiger Leaping Gorge) at the top. We meet another guy, Sander, who’s been hiking around Yunnan for the past two months.

David the Israeli looking deceptively like a gay cowboy and myself at the top of Minyong Glacier.

We have dinner in near pitch black conditions after deciding to spend the night at the glacier. Our chef is a Tibetan man who’s missing one leg. After a round of beers, the Tibetan man offers us some of his moonshine, conveniently poured from a motor oil container.

It comes out looking a lot like motor oil, with little floating things in it.

After one taste, Sander, David and myself agree that this is by far the worst drink we’ve had in our lives, by a long shot. We return the drinks to the Tibetan man who proceeds to eat the floating things.

The man then points to the source of the floating things, hanging above our heads.

After finishing his glass and our glasses of moonshine, the Tibetan man proceeds to tell us the story about how he lost his leg, his parents and his family. He either doesn’t realise or doesn’t care that we don’t speak a word of Tibetan.

The One-Legged Tibetan with his Black Cat.

The guesthouse we stay at previously charged 100RMB (20AUD) for the night, however it appears as though it’s gone through some unfortunate remodelling that has destroyed half of the walls and most of the roof. The new price is only 20RMB and involves checking most of the rooms for one that still has a complete roof.

It starts raining at night and we are grateful that our section of roof holds and leaves us dry.

I awake to find the following dog standing outside our room, as if waiting for some special as yet undetermined purpose.

The dog finds his purpose in life five minutes later when I go to do my morning business. The squat toilets, like most in China have no partitions between “stalls” and as such, every time you go, you take the gamble that no one will need to go at the same time. The dog sits guard outside the toilet while I do my business, which is unsettling at first, until I realise that he’s ensuring no one else enters. Within minutes another man makes for the toilet block. The dog’s barking sends him on his way and I finish my business with most of my dignity in tact.

The walk back down is uneventful.