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JOURNEYS TO SACRED MOUNTAINS – SOUL SEARCHING UNDER THE SKIN: by Alister Benn

I am torn, which is it, mountains or oceans? Which of them personifies my spirit, where do I feel most calm, contemplative and whole? As I gaze across the open fields north of our home, I can see the looming giant of Yulongxue Shan, Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, rising to 18359 feet (5596m). Today it is clear, calm and benevolent, an omnipresent landmark guarding the fertile valleys below. On other days, ferocious storms wreck havoc on its rocky peaks, dumping snow, causing huge avalanches and to venture there would be almost certain death.

This mountain massif is holy to the local Naxi people who inhabit the surrounding valleys and much myth and legend is written in their pictographic language. It was also the place for young lovers to commit suicide in the name of true love, rather than submit to arranged marriages. The forested lower slopes between 2500m and 4000m are scattered with stone tombs, an eerie, silent landscape, lonely and still.

Juanli and I walk among them talking quietly; raised voices seem, in some way, unwelcome; it is our secret escape to peace and quiet from the bustle and tourist crowds of the Old Town. The clean mountain air is an elixir, at only 3000m, not yet high enough to cause any significant breathing difficulties, and we’re both well acclimatized. We take deep lung-fulls, dissecting them for subtle nuances of pine resin, wild flowers, ice and Yak dung; a potpourri of wilderness.

A month before and 11000 kilometers away, on the east coast of New Zealand, we had wandered along the tide line of the South Pacific Ocean, the thick salt air filled with the smells familiar wherever sea meets land; fish and seaweed. But sat, high on a cliff, looking down on the surf rolling over the tortured limestone shore, gazing out into a vast wet void I am also at peace.

Now, the fact we live at 2400m up in the mountains clearly demonstrates some subconscious answer to this riddle, and I guess from a youth filled with rock and mountain climbing, being “up high” is probably my preference. Juanli doesn’t share my dichotomy, she loves the mountains, more than anything or anyone; they “are” her life.

Back in May 2007, while I was away in Canada, doing my own “mountain things” she made a trip to Mount Kailash on the Tibetan Plateau. This peak is sacred to four separate religions, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and the Bon Faith, thousands of pilgrims each year making the 52km peregrination. But what was the motivation for her, a secular pilgrim?

Juanlis face lights up as she chats about her trip, carrying her camera and a light rucksack, full of energy as she reaches the 5791m Dolma Pass. She talks of feeling peace, no worries of the outside world, not even missing me, totally at one with the mountain and the desolate terrain. So, even stripped of their religious significance, the high places of the world have the power to dominate our spirits and calm our minds, yet at the same time, challenging our bodies and questioning our motives.

It can’t be coincidence that so many mountains are considered Holy; the atlas is dotted with them, Uluru, Mt Sinai, Mt Fuji, Mt Olympus and closer to our home, Meili and the peaks of Yading. But, for the faithless, it must be more than the promise of a pretty view that draws us to them?

While in New Zealand I began to start looking at topography rather than landscapes; the surface, or skin, very much dictating the aesthetic perceptions we have, finally I had to look under the skin to see the true beauty. And that may just be the point, in the mountains human disturbance is minimal, the land wont, or cant be tamed. We see the world as a virgin landscape, ancient sea beds thrust miles into the sky, shells and fossilized shrimp sharing the cliffs with the aeries of Eagles. Glaciers shape the valleys and ice erodes the highest slopes.

A long drive north from Wellington to Miranda on the Firth of Thames in pouring rain, allowed me time to ponder this further. Are our personalities and outward façades true to ourselves, or are we also different under the skin? For professional and personal reasons don’t we all have to “play the game” taming our insecurities, suppressing our fears of over-exposure and protecting our souls? How many of us can say we are the same under the skin, as the person we portray on the surface, so much for our bravado.

In the mountains we are stripped of much of that façade, lade bare, focusing our efforts on the climb, our own safety and that of our companions. No time, just existence. The mountains allow us space to breath, and yes, occasionally, enjoy a pretty view. But for me, it is what the view represents that’s important, and for Juanli too. Only rarely do we climb up into the hills for the pure pleasure of it, most often we’re up there to find and photograph a bird or the changing colors of a crisp autumn scene. Lying in the short, wind-blasted grass eye to eye with a little Snowfinch that manages to eek out a living above 5500m is a humbling experience. Even humans, the ultimate in adaptation through technology can only survive at altitude with the aid of thermal gear, sleeping bags and tents. Most people require long periods of acclimatization to go above 6000m, and few do so without bottled oxygen.

Surely these places are the domains of the Gods, where few people dare to go, and many who do, go to their death. It is easy to see how they earned their spiritual status.

So, what of our journeys to the sacred mountains? Juanli swears she will return with me to Kailash, to spend more time under her shadow and look under our own skins. At 6740m Meili Mountain is a long days drive from home, and more often than not we pause for a night in Zhongdian, Shangri La, which at 3300m allows a night of acclimatization. The road itself is challenging, eroded from beneath by monsoon rains and from above by frequent landslides, in places narrow and circumnavigating steep hillsides over precipitous drops. To travel to Yading National Park is a two-day drive on atrocious roads, a real adventure in itself. But the park has three mountains over 6000m and all considered Holy by the local Tibetans. Temples lie sheltered in their wooded foothills, Lamas and monks filling the air with the gentle chanting of ancient scripture, the long, deep blasts of copper horns resonating off the hanging glaciers and cliffs above. Alpine Choughs and Eagles play in the thin air and the sibilant song of a Leaf Warbler carries only a short distance before fading like a tender kiss in a lovers dream.

And here we get to the nub of the situation; since the dawn of humanity our loneliness in the vastness of Space forced us to look out into infinite darkness twinkling with innumerable stars, nurturing our quest for reasons, answers, guidance, order and understanding. As we inhabited the planet, our lights drove off the darkness, the wilderness was tamed and the large predators eradicated, every ones home their castle, their territory. The Sacred Mountains became sacred, symbols of our misunderstanding, revered, protected and inhabited only by the holy. But, because their land use is limited to the odd temple or stuppa, we are not forced to look under the skin to see the true character of the land. And a byproduct of their sanctity is they are unmolested, and in China a large percentage of the best natural habitat in the country is on these sacred mountains.

Of course, this may change, tourist dollars are important to isolated communities the world over; new roads get blasted through narrow, treacherous terrain, hotels, restaurants and karaoke bars get built with panoramic views, defiling the mountain and the serenity we’re supposed to be there to experience. It has long been a conservation argument, who has the right to say who should or should not be allowed to go into the mountains and experience the wilderness? Of course, that human diversity is played out in all aspects of our lives, as I mentioned above about our motives for being “out there” in the wild places, and it’s not my place to judge. For Juanli and myself, we feel a pressing need to go to these Sacred Mountains while we can, experiencing them as they have been for centuries, allowing them to work their quiet magic on our minds and bodies.