The Ultimate 5100km Solo Drive: I Ended Up in Hospital at 4500m & Still Say G317 Is Worth It – Here’s Exactly How to Survive It PART 5

Day 12: Lhasa to Naqu

After finishing the classic route from Chengdu to Lhasa, plus a beautiful loop from Lhasa to Shigatse and back (the scenery on the second day of that loop was absolutely stunning), most travelers would call it a day. For the vast majority of people, completing even the legendary G318 (Sichuan-Tibet Southern Route) is already a huge achievement. Many choose to fly out from Lhasa or take the Qinghai-Tibet Railway home.

But not me—I still had to complete the G317, the legendary Sichuan-Tibet Northern Route.

While the Southern Route (G318) is famous for its dramatic, knife-edge mountains and heart-stopping drops, the Northern Route (G317) feels vastly open, almost endless, with rolling grasslands, snow-capped peaks, and ancient temples everywhere. The moment you leave Lhasa heading north toward Naqu, you pass through places like Dingqing and Leiwuqi and enter a world deeply influenced by Bön religion—Tibet’s indigenous faith.

Compared to the busy, sometimes tourist-heavy southern line, the north feels quieter, more mysterious, and spiritually richer. If the south is about jaw-dropping natural scenery, the G317 Northern Route is the path for those who want to touch the soul of old Tibet.

So yes—**G318** for landscapes, G317 for culture and humanity.

Lhasa sits at about 3,650 meters. As soon as you head north, the altitude climbs steadily.

I had originally planned to detour to Namtso Lake, one of the three holy lakes of Tibet, but I was driving a rented car. The rental company had already warned me when I picked up the car: “Whatever you do, don’t go to Namtso.” Police checks around the lake are extremely strict—if your rental car isn’t registered as a legal tourist vehicle, they will impound it. In practice, they usually just seize the car (fines and detention are rare), but that’s still a disaster when you’re in the middle of nowhere. So I reluctantly skipped Namtso and stuck to the main G109 north.

Missing Namtso stung a little, but it also gives me the perfect excuse to come back next time.

The drive from Lhasa toward Naqu immediately feels immense. From Lhasa to Yangpachen (around 4,300 meters), you’re climbing the whole way. Once past Yangpachen, the landscape opens up into endless plateau. The Qinghai-Tibet Railway runs parallel in many sections—coming all the way from Xining through Golmud, over the mighty Tanggula Pass, down to Naqu, then Yangpachen, and finally Lhasa.

Northern Tibet is high and cold, so very few people live here permanently. Fewer people = fewer temples, and the ones that exist are usually smaller and simpler than the grand monasteries of the southern route.

After passing the Nyenchen Tanglha Mountains viewpoint, I soon spotted the famous Eight Pagodas of Northern Tibet. These eight white stupas stand solemnly on the vast Qiangtang Grassland, with razor-sharp snow peaks rising in the distance. Built along the slope, they represent the eight major events in the Buddha’s life. Colorful prayer flags dance in the wind, carrying the wishes of countless pilgrims.

I rolled into Naqu town around 4 PM. During the day I barely felt any serious altitude sickness.

After checking into the hotel and resting a bit, I took a taxi downtown, strolled around, and flew my drone over the main square. A group of curious local kids gathered to watch. I ended up taking photos of them—they were absolutely delighted.

Back at the hotel, disaster struck. This particular hotel did not provide supplemental oxygen (many in Naqu don’t), and the room layout was terrible—after stepping out of the bedroom you had another internal corridor, then the bathroom blocking any direct outside window. Zero ventilation. At 4,500 meters—the highest overnight elevation of my entire trip—the lack of fresh air hit hard. By 11 PM I couldn’t sleep at all, my head was spinning, and I felt seriously oxygen-deprived (still not life-threatening, but extremely uncomfortable). At 12:09 AM I gave up, jumped in the car, and drove myself to the hospital for oxygen.

Day 13: Naqu → Suo County

The nearest hospital was Senni District People’s Hospital, but when I arrived it was completely empty—no staff on night shift. So I drove to the bigger Naqu City People’s Hospital. They checked my blood oxygen immediately and hooked me up. After just 10–15 minutes of pure oxygen, I already felt 70% better. The doctor asked if I wanted one hour and go back, or stay until morning. I chose morning. I ended up sleeping on the oxygen until 6 AM—perfectly fine, no interruption to rest.

Left the hospital while it was still dark, packed quickly, and hit the road early. The only real cure for altitude sickness is descending, so the sooner I dropped elevation, the better.

I took the G109 south toward Damxung, and sure enough, as the altitude slowly fell, I started feeling human again. Quick tip: when mild symptoms hit, sipping glucose water actually helps quite a bit.

Today’s destination was Suo County at around 3,800 meters—a significant relief from Naqu. After checking in and resting, I drove to the stunning Zandan Monastery. Built against the hillside, its red-and-white halls glowed under the afternoon sun. I climbed the long flight of steps without any shortness of breath—proof that dropping even 700 meters makes a world of difference.

Day 14: Suo County → Dingqing

Woke up to the peaceful morning chants drifting from Zandan Monastery—pure magic.

I always sleep early on the plateau, so I was on the road by a little past 8 AM.

First stop: Bujia Snow Mountain Glacier. The last few kilometers are on a small dirt road. I arrived super early and had the entire viewpoint to myself. The distance from the platform to the glacier tongue is only about 1 kilometer—way closer than the famous Lagu Glacier viewpoint on the southern route.

If you want an intimate, up-close glacier experience with almost zero crowds, Bujia Glacier is far better. It’s still relatively undeveloped, and the ticket is only 35 yuan. Traffic on the entire G317 is roughly one-third that of the G318, especially outside peak season.

I sent my beginner-level drone up—cautiously. It doesn’t have great obstacle avoidance, so I kept a safe distance. Better safe than crashing into a glacier and losing the machine forever!

After landing, I sat on the platform enjoying the silence when a lovely retired couple from Shanghai pulled up. They’re living the dream—pension in hand, self-driving all over China. This is becoming super common among retirees from big cities. To my surprise, they pulled out their own drone—much more advanced than mine, with better zoom and obstacle avoidance. Watching their live feed of the glacier details made me think: yep, good gear is worth every penny! The better my equipment becomes, the more spectacular free 4K/8K footage I can share with all of you.

They kept flying while I moved on to the next stop.

On the way I passed a beautiful temple, flew the drone again, then napped behind it. Only from the air did I realize it was a nunnery—quite rare in Tibet. (A few days later I visited Yachen Gar, the largest nunnery in western Sichuan—story coming soon!)

Reached Dingqing town around 4 PM, checked in, and walked around. Even here, at nearly 3,900 meters, there’s a Mixue Bingcheng—China’s king of affordable milk tea has truly conquered the plateau!

There’s a saying: “For cordyceps in the world, look to China; for cordyceps in China, look to Tibet; for cordyceps in Tibet, look to Dingqing.” This place is the undisputed capital of wild Tibetan cordyceps.

At 3,500–3,900 meters, I finally slept without any worry about altitude sickness.

Final Thoughts on the Lhasa–Changdu Section of G317 Northern Route

- Average elevation is higher than the G318 southern route.

- Road surface is smoother and flatter, far fewer steep climbs and descents.

- Traffic is dramatically lighter—fewer trucks, fewer cars, much more relaxing to drive.

- The biggest challenge is altitude sickness. If you already struggle to sleep at 3,500–3,800 meters, I honestly don’t recommend the northern route—safety first—unless you stay in oxygen-supplied hotels at high-altitude stops.

(The above two elevation maps are sourced from the internet. Please contact me if there is any infringement. Thank you.)

Pro Tips:

- In high-elevation towns, book oxygen-supplied hotels every night (usually 200–300 yuan more; for foreign-guest hotels it can be significantly higher).

- Before leaving Lhasa, get your car fully checked—breakdowns on the northern route are expensive and time-consuming because repair shops are few and far between.

- If you’re sensitive to altitude, bring several portable oxygen cans/bags—they can literally save the night. My body tolerates plateau pretty well; I only suffered that one night in Naqu, and had zero issues during the day, so I didn’t carry any.

Bottom line: Know your limits, prepare accordingly, and the G317 will reward you with some of the most profound and peaceful scenery in all of Tibet.

• (End of Part 5)