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Cuopu Valley on Sacred Ground by Holy Waters

This is the hardest trip I’ve ever taken you on, and in less than a year it won’t exist anymore. Once a road is completed, Cuopu Valley is certain to become one of the biggest tourist attractions in Sichuan Province and the serenity of this glorious spot will be shattered forever.

For the next few months, however, the only way in is a 35-kilometre trek or a three-hour Jeep ride (the trek is by far the more comfortable option). This first takes you past the roadside hot springs above Chaluo. These wonderful mineral waters are free to any passer-by who doesn’t mind washing in full view. The whole area is busy with geothermal activity. Steam billows from vents along both sides of the river below the hot springs, and there are bigger (and much hotter) springs to be found within the broad open spaces of Cuopu Valley itself. Bathers wash in the open air surrounded by white-capped peaks—snow falls on Cuopu’s high places even in mid-August.

Buddha’s fish

The heart of Cuopu Valley is glistening Cuopu Lake, a sacred site that attracts Tibetan pilgrims who walk the six-kilometre path around its waters. This area lies within the Tibetan region of western Sichuan, less than 100 kilometres from the border of the Tibet Autonomous Region. On the northern shore of the lake, 30 monks inhabit the small Cuopu Temple: visitors need to watch their step. Halfway through my own circumambulation, I was happy to find a toilet a few yards from the temple, and even happier to see how clean it was. “This must be a Living Buddha’s toilet,” I joked to my partner. Business concluded, I emerged to find my partner encircled by crimson-robed, shaven-headed gentlemen remonstrating that strangers should not use what was, in fact, the Living Buddha’s toilet.

Local yak herders have built a tiny settlement of wooden houses on the opposite shore. We pitched camp nearby and in the morning awoke to the sound of children chanting their lessons in a makeshift schoolhouse. Eight kids receive basic Tibetan reading and writing instruction from a monk named Tsega, who comes from the lamasery in Chaluo. Other than food and a place to live, Tsega is paid nothing for his work. He seemed surprised to be asked how much money he made.

During a break, Tsega told us to gather some scraps of bread. He then led us down to the waterside behind the schoolhouse. A great shoal of hungry fish massed as Tsega called, “Huuuuuuuuuuuu,” and then they leapt and roiled as we cast bread into the water.

“These fish are sacred,” said Tsega. “No one is allowed to catch or eat them. Even when we draw water, we strain it so not even the tiniest creature is taken from the lake.”

Tsega and the other monks keep an increasingly watchful eye on strangers. Although the tourist invasion is still some months away, exploratory mining has begun further up the valley, threatening the pristine environment and bringing in miners who illegally pluck fish from the water at night. Pockets of litter are also starting to build up near the lakeshore of a fragile place on the brink of a great change. For the moment, with great trekking in all directions and especially to further lakes in the mountains above Cuopu Lake, I cannot recommend it too highly.