To shoot the TV series Into the Great Nature, a production team jointly organized by the News Center of China Central Television (CCTV) and the Ministry of Forestry entered the Changtang Nature Reserve in north Tibet.

It is the largest nature reserve with the highest average elevation in the world, extending to the Tanggula Mountains in the east, Memar Co Lake in the west, the kunlun Mountains in the north and the Za'gya Zangbo River in the south. It covers a total area of 250,000 square km, with an average elevation of some 5,000 meters.

"Changtang" means "unused land in the north" in Tibetan. There is no tree in the place, but grass does grow there. Its core area, though called "no-man's land," is a world of vitality.

There are many routes leading to the Changtang no-man's land. The production team took a route from the east: Setting off from Lhasa, capital of the Tibet Autonomous Region to reach Garco, a small village rarely found on a map, via Nagqu, Bangoin and Shuanghu. This route provided a full view of north Tibet, while still remaining close to the region's "populated areas." Garco is at the edge of no-man's land. Besides its small group of residents, the village is somewhat isolated, with no trace of human habitation for hundreds of miles around.

Isolated Island

After a bumpy 1,300-km drive, we saw Garco, a small village of some 100 Tibetan families. The village faces east and was built at the foot of a mountain. In front of the village is a big lake called Gar Co, hence the name of the village. "Co" means ?°lake ?°in Tibetan language. Yi'ong Co, Nam Co and Lhamola Co are some of Tibet's many lakes. The reason why Gar Co is so colorful is because the lake is a combination of fresh and salt water and also varies in depth. So the color of its water changes endlessly in the sunshine.

The village is but a dot negligible on Tibet's wide-open land, but it is well known in the northern plateau. Although it is now called a "township" rather than a "commune," the village still practices collective ownership. Township head Qoinpe told reporters that the people moved here from Xainza County, at a lower altitude, in 1974, it was very hard to adjust to the new location, as oxygen in the air is 30-40 percent less than in inland areas. Local residents could only live on hunting and herding domestic animals, but they survived on their collective strength and became prosperous, with per-capita annual income of 2,000 yuan. They have settled down and no longer hunt, for they know there is a law that protects wildlife.

Local villagers were extremely excited by a visit from "guests from afar." They dressed in festive costumes, wearing colorful gowns with golden bells, silver bracelets and gem-encrusted swords. Accompanied by children and dogs, the townspeople rushed to the township office to see for themselves what a camera was, and those strangers dressed in "battle fatigues."

The villagers also entertained us with traditional Tibetan items: hada (a long piece of silk used as a greeting gift among Tibetan and Mongolian ethnic groups), zanba (roasted qingke barley flour) and buttered tea. Their honest and smiling faces told us they were good-hearted and uninhibited by nature. I'll never forget the scene: A pair of sturdy hands holding snow-white sugar and putting it into fresh sour milk.

I asked the township head if they had a TV receptor. Before the township head could answer, a group of children took me to the court. "Look, look, here it is," they said, pointing at a silvery white satellite dish standing on a high slope within the village. It is something modern, but it exists harmoniously with the windmills that revolve on the roof of each house.

Once they knew that we intended to film wildlife, Cering Wanggyia, head of the Shuanghu Special Administrative Area, volunteered to act as a guide for us. "I'll go," he said, "I know the region best. Here we have kiang, wild yak, Tibetan antelope, black bear, big-headed sheep, river deer and marmot. All together there are 38 species of mammals, three species of reptiles and more than 10 species of fish. To tell you a truth, I love animals, and I'm a member of the Tibetan Association for Protection of Wildlife."

Cering Wanggyia kept his word, and had everything prepared by nightvehicles, gasoline, tents, a generator and food. It seemed that victory was in sight, thanks to the kind-hearted person helping us.

Racing with Kiang

Tibetan wild ass (or kiang) in Changtang Nature Reserve in north Tibet are under state protection

We started off early in the morning. Four vehicles, in parallel, drove across the limitless country, raising billows of thick dust. From a distance, we looked like four yellow dragons dancing under the blue sky. The four drivers seemed to be racing. They could not help it for the jeeps they were driving are international and Chinese brands: Nissan, Toyota, Land Cruiser and the latest model of Beijing 2023. In Tibet, only good-performance sport utility vehicles (SUVs) are qualified for such a long journey. Particularly in no-man's land, we needed to be careful not to break down. We also had to be prepared to keep up with wild animals at any time and even on poor roads.

There is no road from Garco. To tell the correct direction, we had to depend on the compass and the driver's experience. The Tibetan driver Dainzin was a good field operator, able to identify directions according to the mountains and rivers. He has led three Chinese and overseas expedition teams across this mysterious plateau. It is said that he once spent eight hours in a frozen river to fix a break down. The overseas members of the expedition were so impressed that they insisted on tipping him.

"Watch out, we're coming to an area of kiangs," Dainzin reminded me.

Just as expected, we saw a dozen black spots on the horizon. "Kiang!" I cried out. "No, they are Tibetan antelopes," Cering Wanggyia told me. "Look, how fast they can run, about 80 km per hour. They like to move in groups, four to five if in a small group, and several hundred to a thousand if in a large group. In early October, you may see the magnificent scene of several thousand antelopes moving together from west to east, ?°he explained.

"There, there they are, Kiangs? I cried out Dainzin. We were coming closer to the kiangs, now even able to see the unique black line on their backs. I once saw a Mongolian wild ass, but this Tibetan wild ass, called "kiang" in Tibetan, has a stronger body than the Mongolian wild ass, and its hair is a deeper yellow, almost red. There are 20 in this group of kiangs.

Seeing us heading for them, the kiangs were not frightened. They simply continued to eat grass. Only a male ass raised its head, keeping a close and vigilant watch on us, like a guard. "This is evidence that our recent efforts to protect animals have paid off. If we had approached them several years ago, they would have run away," said Director of the Nagqu Agriculture and Animal Husbandry Bureau Sampe Wanggyai.

With the animals so calm, we didn't have to hurry. Photographer Wang Chengjian took out his camera and got ready to shoot.

But at this moment, the kiangs began to flee in panic, with one kiang leading the way as if they had just awoken to something.

We hurried into the vehicles and sped after them.

When we caught up with the kiangs, I noticed that we were going 60 km/h. Outside the window, the kiangs were about 10 meters away. They have a beautiful running posture, chin up, back straight, hair fluttering in the breeze. They cast sidelong glances at us as if to say cars aren't such a big deal.

Immediately, the kiangs ran ahead of us. "Come on, come on! Why are we so slow?" "Oh, no. The kiangs are running up the slope. The land here is too soft, I cannot manage it." The driver was very anxious, dripping with sweat.

Seeing us slow down, the kiang group slowed too.

After several jolts, the vehicle stopped. "What lousy luck! We're out of gasoline!" the driver said while pounding the steering wheel, utterly disheartened.

I turned to the kiang flock that was already far away from us.

"Did you get the shots of the running flock?" I asked Wang Chengjian.

"They're not very good. In order to have some close-ups, I used a 60X lens. It is not steady when used close to the subjects."

"We'll have to reshoot. Hurry and refuel the car."

"I found a kiang herd on the right side!" Wang Chengjian cried out.

"This time we'll outflank the kiangs in two directions. Toyota, Beijing and Land Cruiser shall stay and await orders. Wang and I will make a detour to take the commanding point. Then you three vehicles close in and force the flock to the camera's right hand field of vision. Every action shall follow my signal. Is everybody clear?"

"Yes."

We kept in touch via walkie-talkie. I felt like a "commander".

But things did not go in the way I wanted since the kiangs did not listen to my plan. Seeing us close in, they did not rush toward my direction but broke through the encirclement and ran away. I firmly believe that the kiangs must have thought our camera was a "gun".

As things continued like this we changed our tactics. After some discussion, we decided to accomplish our tasks by laying an ambush.

It proved to be effective. When three vehicles chased the kiangs over a small hillock where laid in wait, and the camera finally captured them on film.

Savage and Fierce Wild Yak

Wild yaks are said to be the most savage and fierce animals on the Northern Tibetan Plateau. Although they look similar to cultivated yaks, they have a stronger build and are two to three times the size of a cultivated one. The wild yak can weigh 500 kg. Once it is hurt, it will not run away, instead it will violently attack the rival. When it gets angry, it can topple a jeep.

So we had to be extremely careful when we shot photos of the wild yak.

Cering Wanggyia led us to a place where he said wild yaks lived, but the journey to that place was very difficult. First we crossed a grand canyon and then a big mountain.

When we passed through the canyon, the cars went slower than a snail's pace, as the ground was covered with stones standing on end. I was constantly worried about a tire blowout.

There were many wild rabbits by the roadside. With their red eyed open wide and ears stirring only slightly, they did not look scared. It was clear that this was a sparsely populated place.

With tremendous effort, we climbed the mountain. At the top of the mountain was an open ground covered with grass. "Wow, we're at 5,300 meters," said Li Lianmin, a section chief with the Tibetan Forestry Adddministration, after checking his elevation-measuring instrument.

"Why have all the yaks disappeared today? They are often seen here." said Cering Wanggyia, scratching his head. "What do you mean, domestic or wild yaks?" Wang Fuli, a division chief with the Nagqu Administration of Animal Husbandry, asked teasingly.

"Wild, wild, absolutely wild. I've been here several times, and each time I can see them," Cering Wanggyia said earnestly. It is certain that he felt guilty for making a trip in vain.

The journey down the mountain was soul stirring. It was amazing to see Tibetan drivers bravely drive car down such a steep slope as if it were nothing.

"Look, over there." Cering Wanggyia shouted out in a louder voice as if to make up for his previous mistake.

"Where?"I narrowed my eyes and gazed for a long while, but saw nothing.

Cering Wanggyia offered me his telescope, "There, over there."

"Oh, I see a little black spot."

"That's a wild yak," Cering Wanggyia reassured me.

We steered the cars in that direction, half believing and half doubting.

It was indeed a wild yak, a male with bright black hair and two big curved horns lying on the mountain slope.

The driver stopped the car in front of a river, telling me that we could not go further; otherwise the car would be bogged down in the flood land. We had no option but to look at the yak across the river.

In the following half a day, we did not see a single yak.

As the sun set, we returned disappointed.

Suddenly, Cering Wanggyia cried out again,"Wild yak, wild yak.?"I saw again a small black spot.

Wang Chengjian observed carefully with the telescope, and said slowly, "It seems there is more than one yak, maybe a group."

"It doesn't matter if it is one yak or a group of yaks, let's get closer." I issued the order, not wanting to miss a chance.

"One, two, three?-seven. All together seven yaks." We saw clearly how many there were as the black spot dispersed.

Immediately, the team plunged into action. It's not difficult to catch up with the wild yaks on flat grassland. A moment later, we were driving abreast with them. The Nissan drove to the left, the Toyota to the right, wild yaks in the middle and the Land Cruiser took up the rear.

But an unexpected thing happed as we rode jubilantly with the yak herd. The strongest yak suddenly broke from the group toward the Toyota on the right side. The Toyota immediately changed direction. Just after it turned around, the yak was close to its rear. The Toyota fled for dear life while the yak followed. We were stupefied by the sight of the yak, a mere 3 meters behind the Toyota. If it caught up with the car, the consequences would be too dreadful to contemplate. "Please, do not go dead," I silently prayed to the engine.

Fortunately, the yak stumbled at the crucial moment, enabling the Toyota to distance itself. The driver headed down the slope, and the yak gradually allowed and came to a stop.

The three vehicles gathered together again, the people in the Toyota got out of the car. Qi Yun swung his arms, crying out, "It's too exciting." Xu Jianmin, camera in hand, was overcome with regret, "What's the matter with me? How could I be so nervous and forget to take photos? How valuable those shots would have been. It's a pity." Dainzin asked the driver of the Toyota, Dorbo, "Why didn't you drive down the slope at the beginning, you should have known better."

"Yeah, I know. But I panicked a little when I saw such a vicious animal."

I wondered what had tripped the wild yak up. So I walked over to have a look and found it was the work of rats. Because of these rats, the grassland was riddled with gaping holes and the wild yak lost its footing in a rat hole the size of a small bowl. These rat holes usually cause problems in the grassland, but I thanked them for helping my guys narrowly escape.

A Bear and Its Three Babies

It was beyond our wildest dreams that we would actually shoot photos of bears in no-man's land. It happened by accident.

That day, I planned to take pictures of the argali. The Tibetan argali is a rare animal specific to the Changtang grassland. It is called a "big-horn sheep" by local residents for the unique shape of its horns, which look like spirals.

To shoot the argali we went to a placed called Nanan in Tibetan, which means "black water river." It is some 200 km away from Garco. Argalis live on a big mountain over there.

As we neared our destination, my heart began to beat fast, a result of being on the go for days on end plus a reaction to the high altitude. We were at an elevation of 5,100 meters above sea level. So I closed my eyes and leaned against the seat in order to regain my strength.

At that moment, a cry of alarm made me shiver." Brown bears!"

I opened my eyes and saw a mother bear with three babies.

The discovery gave me a shot in the arm and my altitude sickness disappeared immediately.

All of us seemed to be out of control. The cars were speeding down toward the bears as they were at the bottom of a basin.

The Land Cruiser from the Tibet Forestry Administration led the way. The bear group ran.

I realized right away that it would make things worse if the Land Cruiser in the middle route continued to lead the way for none of the passengers had a cameras. Besides, if we drove too fast, we would probably force the bears to run toward the small river on the right. Once across the river, they would climb a precipitous hill, and then it would be impossible for us to take photos of them. The only solution was to let the Nissan and the Toyota on the two sides outflank the bears. The Toyota on the right side in particular had to keep the bears from crossing the river.

PEAK CLEANING: Two students of the Tibet Mountaineering School clean the Monument of Environmental Protection on the slope of Mount Qomolangma as part of a regular campaign to prevent the world's highest peak from being polluted

I ordered the Land Cruiser to stop using my walkie-talkie, but it did not listen and continued to race ahead.

It is understandable to be swept away by such circumstances, but that car had to be stopped.

I asked Dainzin to catch up with the Land Cruiser. Dainzin tried his best and made it. I popped my head out of the car, swinging my hands to give the signal. The Land Cruiser finally slowed its speed.

At that moment, the Toyota had successfully blocked the bears by the riverside.

In order to occupy a higher position, Dainzin drove at a desperate speed toward a hillock opposite the Toyota. We positioned the camera on the hillock and Wang Chengjian began to shoot.

I then turned to look at the bears. The mother bear was going to attack the Toyota. Xu Jianmin, who was taking a picture off the car, instantly got in before the mother bear attacked the door.

At this critical moment, Dainzin pressed his horn. The mother bear heard the sound and turned to see what was going on. Then the Toyota took the opportunity to move. The trick was repeated again. To protect her babies, the mother bear rushed agitatedly about.

After a while, the mother bear found the "net" had a side open-there was no vehicle on the north side. It immediately led its babies north.

I asked the Beijing Jeep to close the net, but the idea of observing brown bears so close was fascinating. I followed the Beijing Jeep down the hillock. Before leaving, I shouted to the photographer, "Take care to shoot full views."

We reached the "net opening" when the bears were coming over. I quickly took out my Canon camera and took continuous shots. The sound of the shutter disturbed the mother bear, which turned toward the direction of the video camera. There was no vehicle there.

Seeing the bear rushing toward him, photographer Wang Chengjian remained absolutely still. There is no doubt that this was the best time to take shots of the bear, and the most dangerous one, too. I admired Wang's courage, but also worried for his life.

Luckily, the Land Cruiser closest to Wang arrived in front of the cameras, whisking Wang from the jaws of danger.

"How abut the shooting?" I asked Wang."No problem?"he answered.

"Let's go." I signaled with my hand that we were to withdraw and looked at my watch. The shooting process had taken 20 minutes.

The bears had crossed the river and moved into the distance.

Back in Lhasa, I learned how valuable our pictures of the brown bears were.

"A brood of three baby brown bears!" So far there is no official record of the wildlife in north Tibet. The brown bears in north Tibet usually bear one or two a litter, and the harsh natural conditions in the region at such high elevation have greatly reduced their reproduction rate. "You've really made an important discovery. Thank you for doing significant work for Tibet," said Tibetan Zoologist Liu Wulin, patting my shoulder in a gesture of congratulation.