The Ultimate 5100km Solo Drive: Chengdu → Lhasa & Back via G318 + G317 PART 2

On the morning of September 3, 2024, I boarded the Fuxing High-Speed Trainat at Kunming Station — the official kickoff to my long-awaited solo Sichuan-Tibet Highway adventure.

Here is my initial planned itinerary:

Departure was at 09:53, and exactly 7 hours and 37 minutes later, at 17:30, I stepped onto the platform at Chengdu South Station. This 900-kilometer journey on the brand-new Chengdu-Kunming High-Speed Railway (成昆复线) was far more than simple transportation; it felt like the dramatic overture to the greatest adventure of my life.

My route skipped the classic Yunnan tourist postcard spots — no Dongchuan red-soil terraces, no karst peaks, no Dali or Lijiang. Instead, shortly after leaving Kunming, the train raced through Chuxiong Yi Autonomous Prefecture and plunged straight into the rugged heart of southwest China toward Panzhihua. What followed was pure engineering magic: tunnel after tunnel (**over 150 tunnels and 180 bridges** in Yunnan alone), soaring across the deep canyons of the upper Jinsha River on viaducts hundreds of meters high. Every now and then the train burst into daylight, offering jaw-dropping glimpses of steep green slopes and raging turquoise rivers far below.

As we climbed from Kunming’s 1,900 m to the hotter, drier climate around Panzhihua, the temperature outside the window shifted noticeably. Then, almost without warning, the landscape softened as we descended into the vast Sichuan Basin. Rocky gorges gave way to golden rice fields, and suddenly Chengdu’s modern skyline appeared on the horizon.

Walking out of the station that afternoon with my backpack, excitement was electric. The smooth, air-conditioned comfort of high-speed rail had delivered me from Yunnan to Sichuan in less time than it takes to watch two movies — the perfect psychological launchpad for the raw, wild 5,100-kilometer odyssey that would officially begin the very next morning.

DAY 1: September 3, 2024 – Arrival in Chengdu

Landed in Chengdu, checked into a simple hotel near the station, had a bowl of spicy noodles, and went to bed early. Tomorrow the wheels start turning for real.

DAY 2: September 4, 2024 – Picking Up the Car & Heading to Ya’an

Morning: Went to Ehi Car Rental (一嗨租车) and picked up my trusty Toyota RAV4. Then straight to the Shuangliu Wanda Plaza supermarket for supplies. Because I was traveling solo, I bought a ridiculous amount of water and drinks — just carrying everything from the store to the parking lot left me exhausted!

Some gear (drone batteries, etc.) had been mailed to the rental office in advance, so I loaded everything up and hit the road west toward Ya’an.

I’ve been to Ya’an many times because it’s so close to Chengdu. The city is bisected by the wide, clear Qingyi River (青衣江), with lush trees lining both banks. That evening I strolled along the river as the famous “**Ya Rain (雅雨)**” mist rolled in — soft, gentle, and cool. Sitting by the water eating a bowl of authentic tata noodles (挞挞面), my mind was already racing ahead to tomorrow: Erlang Mountain, Kangding, and the true beginning of the G318.

Ya’an felt like a gentle, steady gatekeeper welcoming me into the highlands.

DAY 3: September 5, 2024 – Ya’an → Kangding → Yajiang (Yajiang)

Left Ya’an early, shrouded in thin morning mist over the Qingyi River. Today’s first major obstacle: Erlang Mountain (二郎山, 3,437 m) — once known as the “**most dangerous pass on the Sichuan-Tibet Highway**.” Thanks to the long tunnel, it’s now easy. After the tunnel I entered Luding County, home of the historic Luding Bridge over the roaring Daduo River — the iron-chain bridge famously seized by the Red Army in 1935.

I’ve walked across Luding Bridge twice before, so no stop this time. The road from Ya’an to Kangding is actually quite relaxed now — mostly tunnels. After Erlang Mountain Tunnel, there are roughly 50 km of near-continuous tunnels all the way into Kangding. I took the expressway to save time (I’ve driven the old G318 twice before — highly recommend it if you’re not in a rush and want maximum scenery).

Quick lunch and a car-nap in Kangding (capital of Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture), then straight on. First-timers: stay overnight in Kangding — it’s worth it.

The real challenge began after Kangding: the climb over Jianziwan Mountain (剪子弯山, 4,659 m). Hairpin after hairpin, one side sheer cliff, the other rock wall. Mild altitude headache and heavier breathing kicked in. The famous “Heavenly Road 18 Bends (天路十八弯)” viewpoint is here — 180-degree switchbacks stacked like hairpins on a girl’s head. They exist because you have to gain huge elevation fast; only tight bends make it possible for vehicles.

I’ve photographed it many times, so I kept moving. The plateau opened up — endless sky, distant snow peaks, prayer flags snapping in the wind. By evening I reached Yajiang County, a town literally built inside a narrow canyon, houses stacked layer upon layer up the steep slopes.

Critical warning: Parking in Yajiang is a nightmare! Out of the entire 18-day trip, Yajiang had the worst parking situation. Call your hotel in advance and reserve a spot — otherwise you’ll circle forever or have to park illegally. Trust me on this one.

Checked in, rested, ate, slept.

DAY 4: September 6, 2024 – Yajiang → Litang → Batang

Morning departure from Yajiang, heading west along G318. The canyons grew deeper and more dramatic. Passed through the Ga’ersi Mountain Tunnel, then suddenly burst onto the vast Maoya Grassland — an endless green carpet under snowy peaks, prayer flags fluttering wildly.

Next came Haizi Mountain (4,618 m) — a desolate, high-altitude moonscape of ancient glacial rocks and small lakes.

Around noon I reached Litang (“**World’s Highest City**” at 4,014 m). Did a quick drone flight at the east gate (third time here), snapped the obligatory photo at the west gate, tried to nap in the car but light hypoxia kept me awake.

Continued west. Passed endless prayer-flag arrays and white stupas glowing under the plateau sun. Then — Sisters Lakes (姊妹湖), two sapphire jewels nestled between mountains. I visited in late winter 2022 when everything was frozen white; now in September the water was an insane deep blue.

Arrived Batang around 5 p.m. — the farthest west I had ever driven before this trip. Checked in, walked to the main town, flew the drone above Zhongshan Park, grabbed street food, and crashed early.

Why the First Four Days Felt Like Reuniting with Old Friends

I’ve driven western Sichuan more than 10 times, and even Litang and Batang 2–3 times each. For me, these four days were less “new discovery” and more “visiting beloved old friends” — every mountain pass, every river bend felt familiar and comforting.

But for first-timers, please take this seriously:

- Some sections of G318 are still under construction — landslides in rainy season, ice in winter. Check road conditions daily.

- Altitude sickness is real above 4,000 m (Litang, Haizi Mountain). Avoid strenuous activity, carry glucose, Rhodiola, and cold medicine.

- Fuel stations are far apart — fill up whenever you see one.

- Respect Tibetan customs — never touch prayer flags or mani stones.

- Book every night’s accommodation in advance (Ctrip first, then Meituan). If you get stuck at 3,500 m+ overnight because you missed the county town, cold + severe hypoxia can ruin or endanger your trip.

- Plan to reach a county town every night (usually 2,000–3,000 m) where altitude sickness is manageable.

China’s infrastructure is racing ahead — many brutal passes I once crawled over are now replaced by tunnels. Tunnels are safer and faster, but they hide the soul-shaking views that live at the mountain saddles (垭口). In a few years, when even more tunnels open, those raw, wind-whipped, heart-stopping high passes may vanish forever under the rock.

Come soon — while the old road still breathes, while the plateau still feels wild and free.

This is the recap of my first four days. Next episode: Batang (Sichuan) → Linzhi (Tibet), crossing the furious Nu River 72 Turns, passing Ranwu Lake, and finally entering the snowy wonderland of Nyingchi.

Stay tuned — the real Tibet is about to begin. 🚙❄️

(End of Part 2)