Day 2 (Morning) Helan Mountain National Forest Park

1 "To wear out the Helan Mountain passes," Yue Fei considered Helan Mountain as a symbol of his efforts to recover lost territories and reclaim the beautiful rivers and mountains; to geographers, Helan Mountain is part of the 200mm isohyet, marking the boundary between arid and semi-arid regions, as well as monsoon and non-monsoon areas; to the people of Ningxia, Helan Mountain is the paternal mountain that blocks the desert sands and forges the 'Jiangnan of the North'... Early on the second day, we set out westward, venturing into the vast Helan Mountain range. My mother's hometown is in the Northeast. From the Northeast to the Northwest, the precipitation gradually decreases, and there is a significant change in vegetation. In the Northeast, lush forests cover almost all the high mountains and ridges, forming a spectacular scene of 'a mountain of flowers' when the leaves turn yellow in autumn; in North China (mainly referring to the Yan Mountains and Taihang Mountains), the lush forests are no more, giving way to lower shrubs; further to the Northwest, shrubs are first replaced by meadows, and then by the desert landscape seen in Helan Mountain. The steep rock walls are mostly bare, with little vegetation, except for a few shrubs and some grass clinging to the ground, stubbornly rooting in the crevices of the barren soil, growing, bearing fruit, and proudly displaying the tenacity of life. Argali sheep can be seen from time to time, their fur color almost indistinguishable from the rock walls, a natural 'camouflage' granted by evolution that makes them—and of course other predators—hard to spot without careful observation. I wonder how they manage to find enough food, can the sparse grass and thorny shrubs on the mountain really satisfy the nutritional needs of their size? Regardless, these 'spirits of Helan Mountain' still roam the mountains today, becoming an indispensable part of Helan Mountain. Is desolation not beautiful? 'The solitary smoke in the desert rises straight, the setting sun over the long river is round.' On the border of the desert, amidst the vast yellow sand, thousands of miles without a trace of humanity, isn't this desolation? The desert and the long river, the solitary smoke and the setting sun, are spectacular, and isn't that beautiful? When I enthusiastically took in the scenery of Helan Mountain by bus and then by cable car in the Helan Mountain National Forest Park, I gained a deeper understanding of the beauty of Helan Mountain—the beauty of the Northwest. If the beauty of the forests in the Northeast is a gentle 'gracefulness,' then the beauty of Helan Mountain is a rugged 'magnificence.' Looking up from below at the cliffs standing vertically as if cut by a knife and ax, gazing from above at the layers upon layers of bald peaks stretching for miles, one can't help but feel a temperament unique to the Northwest—vast, desolate, magnificent!