The ancient pass holds the blood and tears of the caravan, stepping into the hoofprints of the Ming Dynasty
Lianxiang Pass: Step on thousand-year-old horse hoofprints, this pass hides the salty fragrance of the Ancient Tea Horse Road
Driving from Kunming to Lufeng, the asphalt road gradually turns into a cement road. When a road sign reads "Lianxiang Pass," the houses outside the car window suddenly change their appearance—not white walls and tiles, but gray tile wooden buildings, with cacti blooming yellow flowers sprouting from the cracks in the walls. An old lady selling pickled vegetables at the village entrance waves at us when she sees us peeking out: "Go further in, the potholes on the stone slab road were all made by horses."
Sure enough, stepping on the bluestone slabs toward the pass tower, the stones underfoot are polished shiny, with several deep grooves running through the road surface. Old Zhang, the guard, squats down and measures the grooves with his finger: "These were made by the caravan over a thousand years, the deepest parts are three inches deep. Back then, a horse team could pass through here with 180 horses a day." The wind whistles through the archway of the pass tower, sounding like an old tune being hummed.
🏰 Three-story Pass Tower: Hiding the story of salt and tea
The "time code" of the pass tower. The three-story gate tower stands at the crossroads, with bullet marks still clearly visible on the blue brick walls. "This tower has been here since the Ming Dynasty," Old Zhang leads us up, the wooden stairs creaking. "The top two floors were sentry posts. The guards used to stand here and could see horse teams ten miles away." Climbing to the top floor, sunlight slants through the arrow slits, shining on a rusty knife in the corner. Looking out, the ancient bluestone road looks like a silver ribbon winding into the distant mountain valley, suddenly making sense of the phrase "one man guards the pass"—passing this pass means entering western Yunnan.
The "salt and tea flavor" of the shops. On both sides of the pass tower are old shops, with carved signs on the doors reading "So-and-so Horse Shop" and "So-and-so Salt Store." In the corner of one shop, several blackened caravan bells are piled up. When shaken, the "dingling" sound is crisp like ice cubes clinking. "This place used to be very lively," Old Zhang points to a blackened counter. "When the caravan arrived, they would first stop here to rest. The shopkeeper would shout 'Bring the wine,' shaking the tiles off the roof." A girl dressed in Hanfu sits behind the old counter taking photos, holding a thread-bound book, looking like she just stepped out of old times.
🐎 Deep in the Ancient Road: Hooves dancing with rapeseed flowers
The "hoofprint poem" of the bluestone road. Walking along the ancient road into the mountains, the grooves deepen, and occasionally horseshoes embedded in the stone cracks can be seen. On one section of the stone slabs, there is a string of blurred footprints. Old Zhang says, "These are porter’s footprints. Back then, salt carriers walked 40 miles a day, and their footprints are deeper than the horses'." The wind rustles the walnut tree leaves by the road, sounding like the caravan’s copper bells. A man wearing a straw hat squats beside the grooves taking photos, saying he wants to show his child: "This is the earliest 'highway.'"
The "golden carpet" of March. In mid-March, the rapeseed flowers on both sides of the ancient road bloom waist-high. The golden sea of flowers spreads along the road, with the blue brick and gray tiles of the pass tower embedded in the middle, like an oil painting. A young couple stands deep in the flower sea, dressed in caravan clothes taking photos. The man holds an old horse, the woman carries a small backpack. "Click," the shutter captures a thousand years of time in the frame. "Last year, an old overseas Chinese cried here," Old Zhang says, "His grandfather was part of the caravan and walked this very road."
🏯 Temple and Bridge: Hiding the caravan’s prayers
The "peace charm" of the City God Temple. Behind the pass tower is the City God Temple, with several ceramic horses on the incense table. "Before setting off, the caravan would come here to burn incense," Old Zhang points to the ceramic horses. "This is to pray for safety. Back then, three out of ten caravan trips encountered bandits." The murals on the wall are still visible, depicting scenes of the caravan crossing dangerous rapids and snowy mountains. In one painting, a horse is running toward the pass tower. An old lady in a blue cloth shirt brings offerings to burn incense, murmuring "Bless those who go out," her voice as soft as a sigh.
The "reflection poem" of the stone arch bridge. The stone arch bridge on the ancient road has a perfectly semicircular arch, reflected in the water forming a full moon. At low tide, the inscription "Built in a certain year of Qianlong" can be seen on the bridge foundation. A girl in a red dress stands on the bridge looking into the water, her reflection overlapping with her figure like an ink painting. "Back then, the caravan had to dismount to cross this bridge," Old Zhang says, "They were afraid of startling the 'bridge god' in the water, but actually it was because the bridge surface was slippery and they feared the horses would fall."
🍲 Caravan Meals in Old Houses: The aroma of cured meat lingers for a thousand years
The "sturdiness" of caravan cuisine. When dining at an old restaurant in the village, be sure to order the "caravan three-piece set": stir-fried cured meat with bracken, baked potatoes, and buckwheat cakes. The cured meat is smoked from local pigs, black and shiny, with a mouthful full of oily fragrance; the bracken is picked from the mountains, slightly astringent, perfect to cut the greasiness. The owner says, "This was what the caravan often ate, filling and giving strength for mountain travel." Paired with homemade corn wine, spicy enough to make you smack your lips, it tastes better than city gourmet meals.
The "aftertaste" of buckwheat tea. After the meal, drink a cup of buckwheat tea, the tea soup golden yellow, bitter at first then sweet. "This tea was the caravan’s 'life-saving water,'" Old Zhang holds the tea cup. "When tired, a sip refreshes you; when having stomach trouble, a sip works better than medicine." Sitting by the old house’s hearth, listening to the wind outside, suddenly you feel: a thousand years of time is steeped in this cup of tea.
📍 Practical Guide: Bring a pair of cloth shoes to "walk the ancient road"
· What to wear: Cloth shoes are best! The bluestone road is slippery; sneakers are okay, but never wear high heels. Bring a light jacket in March, as it’s cool in the morning and evening. For photos with rapeseed flowers, wear light colors like white or light blue to match the flower sea.
· How to play: Visit the pass tower and old shops in the morning, listen to Old Zhang’s caravan stories; have caravan cuisine for lunch (30 yuan per person fills you up); walk two kilometers along the ancient road in the afternoon to see the hoofprints; don’t miss the rapeseed flowers in mid-March—half a day is enough to explore. For a deeper experience, stay in Lufeng city, 20 minutes by car from here.
· Transportation: 1.5 hours by car from Kunming (navigate to "Lianxiang Pass," parking at the village entrance costs 10 yuan/day during holidays); taxi from Lufeng city costs 30 yuan, drivers can act as guides.
· Pitfalls to avoid: Don’t buy "antiques" by the roadside, most are fakes; some sections of the ancient road have no guardrails, walk closer to the inside.
When leaving, Old Zhang stuffed a bag of buckwheat tea into our car: "Brew it and you can recall the sound of horse hooves here." As the car drove far away, looking back, the pass tower still stood at the crossroads like an old man waving goodbye. Suddenly, I understood why it’s called "the first pass of central Yunnan"—it’s not just a tower, but a thousand years of time, stepped on beneath your feet, echoing in the wind.
Practical Information
· Admission: Completely free! Climbing the pass tower is voluntary with a 5 yuan maintenance donation, no one urges you.
· Best time: Mid-March for the most beautiful rapeseed flowers; November for buckwheat flowers, a different charm.
· Bonus: On every fifth day of the month, descendants of the old caravan come to tell stories for free, sharing many undocumented anecdotes.