Maowusu Desert (¤ò¯Q¯À¨Fºz)
The Maowusu Desert occupies the southernmost part of central Inner Mongolia, and edges its way into northern Shaanxi as far as Yulin. For our last full day in Shaanxi, we followed a road northwest through the desert, towards Inner Mongolia and into drier and drier regions (Mahe and Chaheze if you're looking at the map).
The landscape actually didn't change as suddenly as I expected it might going into the "desert," since on either side of the road there were nearly endless rows of trees forming massive man-made forests, opening up only for the occasional village. This is no doubt in part because reforestation is easier at locations with road access. We proved that point by finally getting off the main road at various locations, generally taking small village roads until the car couldn't make it any further, then continuing on foot. Doing this a few times gave a good overview of before and after scenarios, and of course we also met locals who could tell us more.
Away from the road there were far fewer mature trees and significantly more desolate areas. The crop of the area is corn, which we saw planted in sand adjacent to dunes, almost as ridiculous as trying to grow crops on a beach.
By this time, the locals were mostly finished harvesting corn, and had begun collecting the stalks to use as animal feed through the coming winter.
(As you can see, the corn fields nearest to the road (and not coincidentally those protected by tree barriers) were of an even larger scale.)
Corn on the cob anyone?
(Actually, it's dried and ready to be de-kernelled and ground.)
At one point we found a temple with multiple floors. Inside was this useful piece of art:
From the top (of the temple, not this little ladder!) we spotted some giant dunes, which, although difficult to reach considering the lack of roads, we decided to head for anyway.
We did manage to get somewhere near them before the remainder of our search needed to be carried out on foot. Finally, just beyond this desert farmhouse, we made it to the dunes.
We were told by one villager that only ten years ago the entire area used to be nothing but shifting sands. So far aerial seeding has been relatively successful in spreading grass and bushes to fix the dunes. (The government still seeds every May and June, just before the rainy season.)
Despite the ban on grazing, remote areas were scattered with goat tracks, quite obviously clustered around bushes. Hm, what could it all mean? (In addition to the tracks, naturally the area had also been carpet-bombed with goat droppings.)
That night the vice-director of the Shaanxi Sand Control Research Institute joined us for dinner, and commented on our observations by pointing out a harsh new law soon to be in effect which will fine farmers 100 RMB for each goat found grazing (or 1,000 RMB for each found doing so within Yulin city limits), and actually be enforced by trained individuals.
As on previous visits to dunes, I couldn't resist the urge to shoot my shadow. Pristine sand dunes are one of the few places in nature where your shadow is projected perfectly onto the ground, seeming to meld with the soft, wind-sculpted lines. A solitary figure superimposed on the monotonous background also captures the tranquil nature of the environment...
This little guy stopped as soon as he saw me. Maybe he thought if he stayed completely still, we wouldn't notice him?
The next step after fixing the sand with low-growing vegetation is reforestation. Many tree saplings don't make it, though; this one originally had plastic around its base to retain moisture.
While traveling along one remote dirt roat, we saw several kilometers of tiny pine saplings, or, more accurately, weak wooden barriers that originally protected saplings.
The only villager we saw in that area was afraid of us, but she agreed to answer our questions if we stayed on top of one dune and yelled out to her what we wanted to know. She more or less confirmed the message we'd heard elsewhere: some areas have been targets for major reforestation efforts, but in some cases (such as the one pictured above) everything dies.
Essentially, the key is to search for the species best adapted to a region, while continually replanting until eventually something takes root.
We did see some recent successes, though the ultimate test comes once the trees are about 5-6 ft tall and begin to require more water, sometimes more than the local area can provide (although other factors can come into play, such as density).
Those baby pine trees look like they seriously do not belong there, almost like they've come from some alien planet to take over our deserts. Hopefully they succeed.
Although the annual movement rate of sand dunes in the Yulin area has been significantly reduced in the last 50 years from about 5-7 meters to 0-1 meter, evidence of shifting sand is still apparent, threatening to take back recovered areas in our endless ecological battle with nature.
