From Hohhot to drive east along State Highway 110 hundred kilometers into the boundary of Wulanchabu, gradually approaching the dream Huitengxile grassland.
The car climbed the last block of the ridge line of sight, the first thing that catches your eyes is the wind power station outgrew Mandula in the grassland on the tower one by one. Then, the faint white clouds against the background of grassland under the magnificent and majestic completely display in front of us. The original prairie is the case! Since all the childhood dreams of grassland and speculation at this time were far too pale and childish and shallow, the moment, it is the endless ups and downs of the waves of the broad mottled dark green color as the days are surging current Yigu me, and I actually shocked. For a long time, I was a little coolness sandwiched grasslands of wind from the heart of the well-being of children in the free wake-up indulgence. Far-sighted, finely chopped pieces of yellow, a trickle of nur (Mongolian lakes meaning) randomly interspersed in the vast dark green carpet, white clouds wriggle like floating in the partner's head, the distance yurts rains Teng grid Er lingering Meaningful folk songs. Everything is so harmonious nature, without any external interference in the modified artificial. I lie down quietly and let the body every inch of skin can breathe the fragrance of grasslands. Huitengxile, Mongolian meaning "cold highland", 7,8 month summer season, the soil still reveals a deep sense of biting the Liang Qi, will feel depressed for several months the city swept away summer heat and irritability.
Distant black dots gradually become larger, and finally to restore the original face --- it was a horseback, the Mongolian's brother riding on horseback, high with whip, horse neighing joyfully forward Ben came to us . With the years of Mongolian friend told me: is the fellow to send horses over, and I can ride跑跑try.
Speaking particularly ashamed, I was born in the northeast, away from the Mongolia-Liaoning border less than 10 years, and the veins the blood of torrents is also Mongolian. May have never seen a prairie, but not so close with the horse. Friends from the horses in the pick of the most gentle horse mare, and the reins handed over to the horse owner. In everyone's urging and help, I finally climbed up on horseback, guided by the master walked slowly toward the deep prairie. Horse pastoralists bred specifically for visitors to the training, so docile temper exceptional, I have gradually loosened the reins to the owner, left to the green horse in the vast freely marched in the footsteps of aristocrats like, as if felt at the moment in the touch and taste of color and charm of grassland, grassland broad open mind and I hugged together remove all the dirty wretched dirty, retention holy OK and hope.
Night I drunk, not only here, the scenery beautiful. Yurts, passionate singing of the Mongolian friends Zhujiu Ge, dances and music of the melodious echoes mildly dark sky in the steppe. In such unbridled joy, only wine can express the complex emotions of each person, including not drinking any alcohol in me, a drunk in the yurts.
Morning, the roar of motors destruction of the natural harmony and tranquility, I left the. Sticking to look back to a yurt, embarked on a hiatus from the way home, out of a good away, still hear the familiar voice of De Dema.
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