Ice Mountain

Songpan is a popular destination for two main resaons, its proximity to the national parks of Jiuzhaigou and Huanglong and the various horse trekking opportunities. I had befriended a crazy Canadian who was entertaining the idea of joining a horse trek to the mystical sounding Ice Mountain and i was fortunate enough to be present during his wacky consult at our hostel.

The skinny man with a mustache spoke a little bit of English, at least enough to help people with the planning of their horse trek. The man was fixated on Ice Mountain and everytime he said "Ice Mountain", which was often, his speech slowed and his eyes widened.

"Ah, you want to see....Ice....Mountain!"

"Is it nice?" replied the Canadian. "Can I see photos of this Ice Mountain?"

"Ice Mountain, very nice! We have photos, but you should see Ice Mountain with your eyes, not photo."

I looked around, seeing no evidence of this Ice Mountain anywhere. Though we were at an elevation of about 2700m, it was a lovely 70 degrees, an Ice Mountain would melt at such a temperature. Was Ice mountain made of ice? Did it just look like ice? The guide's reluctance to show photos and his overhyping made me wonder if this Ice Mountain was just a cool name.

"So what about food? Do I bring my own, or do you provide food?"

"We bring food, but you may want more. We eat lots of vegetables."

"Vegetables?"

"Yes, vegetables." The guide seemed to love saying vegetables as much as he loved to say Ice Mountain.

"Ok, so what is for breakfast?"

"We eat bread."

"Just bread?"

"No, bread...and vegetables."

"And for lunch?"

"Rice...and vegetables."

"So dinner is vegetables too?"

"Yes, dinner is LOTS of vegetables. You can buy yak in town to go with vegetables. We bring no meat, only vegetables."

"Ok, so vegetables."

"Yes, vegetables."

"Does it get cold?"

"At night, very cold, but we have yak blanket."

"Can I sleep with the horse?"

"Sleep with horse?"

"Yes, when it is cold, can give the horse a cuddle?" He mimiced perfected the lifting of the stiff horse and placing it over himself for some interspecieal spooning.

"You can sleep with yak blanket. It is very warm." He didn't seem amused.

"Can I pick the color of my horse?"

"What color horse you want?"

"Blue?"

"No blue horse," he answered straightfaced.

"Purple?"

"No purple horse...only brown horse."

"Will I see any animals?"

"Only yak. Lots of yak."

"Can I bite the yaks?"

"No." He shook his head. "Do not bite the yak." He did crack a slight smile, first of the consultation. He then stood up and walked away without a farewell. He didn't seem to apreciative of the the Canadian's cheekiness.

In the end, the Canadian did choose to see the legendary Ice Mountain, but nobody else booked with him.

"The guy said my guide doesn't speak English."

"Looks like you'll have to speak to the horse," I said.

"Except it's a Tibetan horse, it doesn't speak English either." He seemed sad. "Sure you don't wanna come?"

"I don't think riding a horse for three days with the trots sound like much fun."

"Neither does riding a horse for three days is silence." He paused a moment. "Those better be some good vegetables."