April Progress Dispatch

To the Starting Line And The approach:
 
It is the visions of stunning environments and of regions steeped in ancient culture that will stay with the team longest after our six day four wheel drive ride across China and Tibet to our trek Starting point. In little over 1000 kilometers we past various biomes from regions of temperate pine forest to glacial lakes immense gorges to the rolling grasslands of the Tibetan Plateau. The daily lifestyle of the rural Tibetan people seems to have changed little in centuries with most of the herders living in yak hair tents or mud walled huts. What surprised me most as we traveled day after day along predominantly dirt roads was just how remote and desolate this region is. Besides the occasional nomadic yak herders camp we would often drive for many hours without seeing a settlement. Considering we were officially driving through China, lack of people is not usually the first thing that comes to mind.
 
The drive took us from the Himalayan steps of Yunnan, through the precipitous gorges of Sichuan and finally onto the Tibetan Plateau proper in Southern Qinghai. To the relief of the teams collective backsides we arrived in Zadoi, a bustling little frontier town located where the road stops on most maps of Qinghai on the 15th of April 2004 after 5 long days of driving.
 
To the Source:
 
After a day for preparation we finally departed at 9.00 pm on the 16th of April by Beijing 4wd jeep and within one hour of leaving town on white knuckle mountain roads our vehicle had broken down. Our heavily overloaded jeep had popped a hub lock during a gear change and we were forced to limp back into town for repairs.
 
Two hours of repairs and three hours of treacherous driving brought us to the settlement of Zarching located on a flat plain between snow covered peaks. Doujie invited us inside to enjoy a hot cup of Yak butter tea with some local acquaintances and we took the opportunity to chat with the herders who made their lives from this harsh environment.
 
We sat around a stove of smoldering yak dung and heard of how wolves had taken some seven sheep the previous night and that bears would periodically come down from the mountains after the winter hibernation to terrorize locals and take livestock. With April being the end of winter I suddenly felt a little less paranoid about bringing a 14 inch machete for the nights alone in the wilderness. After thanking the herders for their time and the copious amounts of slightly rancid yak butter tea we pushed on and just as the sun sank behind distant mountains we arrived at a herders winter settlement on a vast plain covered in snow.
 
As is the custom we were met by vicious mastiff dogs which fortunately were restrained by chains. Steam and through flew from their mouths as they hurled the full weight of their muscular bodies toward us until when taught, the chain would jolt them back with alarming force. I was glad the chain was thick!! The herders were busy weaving lengths of yak hair into long rolls of course fabric. These rolls are eventually sewn together to form the dark summer tents that play such an important roll in their semi nomadic existence. Without a second thought they offered us a bed for the night and proceeded to fire up the yak dung stove in an empty hut to keep us warm.
 
We rose early and 8 hours our rattling Beijing jeep persevered through creeks, snow storms and rugged terrain above 4200 meters. The countryside was crawling with marmots and their furry little behinds could be seen darting into burrows constantly throughout the drive. Eagles carved circles overhead while pinpointing the more careless of the marmots and could occasionally be seen making a swoop in stealth mode to pick up breakfast or lunch.
 
Eventually by 3.00 pm we had arrived at the furthest point the road would take us, Huze homestead. As we walked in we were welcomed with yak butter tea and raw yak flesh to chew on, the Tibetan equivalent to coffee and donuts. At the entrance of the dimly lit mud walled hut I noticed the carcass of a young yak sprawled across the landing. When I enquired I was informed that wild dogs had made a mess of the poor beast the previous night. My machete was now clearly etched into my mind as an essential piece of camping equipment in a region with no trees. We spent the afternoon at Huze while word was sent to "Bussrr" an old Kampa herder and horseman who was said to know the Mekong headwaters better than any other man.
 
By 10.00am Bussr had made his way to Huze with 11 horses and quite possibly the most stubborn yak in the world. Big foot as we called him quite simply was not having anything to do with carting a kayak or anything else for that matter to the source of the Mekong. After 2 hours of struggling to tie gear down on the beast whom would almost do handstands to make our job as difficult as possible we eventually opted for the far more cooperative pack horse.
 
So we set off at lunchtime on horse toward the source which had been my goal for over two years. After many stops to re-adjust the pack horses we pushed on into the evening and at 8.20pm arrived at a large herders tent perched on a wind swept hill at 4300 meters in elevation. We were all quite travel weary by this stage and I set about cooking dinner of noodles with ham chunks. No sooner had I taken the steaming broth of noodles off the flame did news arrived that a man in the neighboring herders camp had been gored in the face by a yak, it sounded serious.
 
Risky decisions on the Tibetan grasslands:
 
Nicolas Suaret, a former emergency officer of the French fire service, Jimmy our translator and I decided to ignore our considerable hunger to go and see if we could help. We grabbed our hefty first aid kit housed in two 10 liter, airtight Tupperware containers and trudged across the high grasslands in freezing conditions for 30 minutes to the next camp. Along the way we gathered that a yak horn had penetrated through the mans left cheek and up towards the brain. The locals estimated a penetration of 15 centimeters!! They estimated he had lost liters of blood and the patient repeatedly fell over when he tried to walk.
 
As we entered the yak hair tent the smell of blood filled our nostrils and the seriousness of the situation immediately became apparent. The man of 30 years lay on his back with his face caked thick with clotted blood. The wound was 11 hrs old, both eyes were completely blue and swollen shut and fresh blood oozed from the patients mouth. What appeared to be a massive gaping wound in the man's left cheek had a small piece of rag protruding from it. We asked how big the piece of rag was and the answer came, the size of a fist!! We immediately approached him and checked his airway, breathing and pulse. Both his breathing and pulse were weak and with so much blood in and around his mouth we were concerned that his airway might become blocked. Then he was semi coherent.
 
We immediately set about stabilizing his position, clearing the blood clots away from his mouth and nose before placing him on a saline drip to replace the significant fluids he lost, then paused to assess the situation.
 
We feared he would not survive evacuation which would take 2 days by twin horse stretcher and a further 2 days by 4wd. If what the locals said was correct the wound extended into the skull so movement would greatly increase the chance of fatal blood clots on the brain. We phoned our expedition medical advisor Doctor Ben Burford of the Australian Embassy Emergency Clinic, Vientiane Laos by Sat phone. He gave us the best advice possible and advised us to proceed cautiously. On many occasions foreigners had ended up incarcerated for participating in the death of locals during medical emergencies. It was a sobering thought in an already grim situation.
 
We called a meeting of the family and asked if they could evacuate the man, they said no. We then explained that to leave the rag in the patients head would almost certainly be fatal due to a severe infection that would follow. It needed to be removed and thoroughly cleaned but even if we were to do this their husband, father and friend could still die either during or after the procedure. After a short meeting they unanimously agreed that we should attempt to clean the wound. They were convinced he would die otherwise and this was his best shot.
 
We proceeded under far from ideal conditions in the dusty tent. After 20 minutes of cleaning away the clotted blood and to our great relief, the piece of rag in the mans face was not nearly as big as first declared. The Yak horn did in fact penetrate the bone, breaking the nose in the process but did not significantly enter the skull. After 4 hrs of clean up we decided to use steri strips instead of suturing to seal the wound as it was so wide. By 3.30am after leaving a carefully explained course of antibiotics and clean dressings we were on our way back to our own herders camp and a sense of great relief overcame us. It looked like the man would make it. Five days later my support team returned to the camp and the man, still blind in one eye and bed ridden seemed stronger and was fully conscious. The experience really brought home to the team just how isolated we were out here.