Some trips happen because of luck.
This one happened because of loyalty —a plan made one year ago with close friends,
something we all quietly looked forward to. When the day finally came,
we travelled through Western Sichuan together —
from Chengdu’s gentle chaos to the quiet winter forests of Xinduqiao,
from Tagong’s open grasslands to the high passes near Litang and Daocheng,
all the way to the snow-dusted trails of Yading.
But the real journey wasn’t only the distance we covered.
It was the people I travelled with and the pace at which I allowed myself to breathe again.
