At noontime, we arrived at a town called Manduhubaolage and encountered our first real difficulty on the trip. Because of the recent heavy downpour, the bridge we needed to cross to continue our journey was completely inundated. There was no way to drive across. Some locals found us there scratching our heads and immediately seized upon a business opportunity. They offered to hook up our car to their tractor and pull us across for RMB 50 (US $8). We agreed and were glad to be back on our way shortly after.

The steppe scenery that had dominated our journey so far suddenly sprouted into tall forests. Wild flowers and graceful white birches dotted the last 100 kilometers of Highway 303, along which we had spent nine hours. We found ourselves transferred to Provincial Highway 203, the road that would eventually guide us to our destination. That afternoon, we disregarded speed limits and raced to beat the ominous black clouds menacing us from above. We made it to Ulanhot at seven o’clock having beaten the deluge, and were now just a stone’s throw away from Arxan.

That night we stayed at a guesthouse run by the army next to a train station built in the shape of a Mongolian yurt, or ger. Illuminated signage glimpsed from our guesthouse window lured us out onto the street with the promise of a famous lamb hot pot. It was the height of summer and it was even hotter in the restaurant than outside. Some Mongolian men had stripped off their tops to cope; you don’t see this much in Beijing anymore, but we couldn’t complain – when in Inner Mongolia…

After a further half-day driving, we finally reached Arxan National Forest Park. The area is named after Arxan (A’er in Mandarin) Mountain, and the scenery was spectacular. Soon after our arrival the heavy rain subsided and the sky returned to its default resplendent blue.

Chaihe Town is the gateway for tourists into Arxan Forest Park. Surrounded by glistening peaks, Chaihe takes its name from the winding river on whose banks it sits. Not far from Chaihe is a lake said to be perfectly spherical: the town on its shores is known as “Moon Town.”

At around one in the afternoon, we headed through Chaiheyuan Gate into the forest park. Covering thousands of square kilometers, the park is a vast nature reserve and contains some of the most captivating scenery in all of China. Despite time constraints, we were determined to explore it at length and picked Luming Lake as our first port of call.

Luming Lake lies at the end of a long pebble road off the park’s main route too narrow to allow for overtaking. Luckily there were very few people around. There were no shops or built-up areas to speak of at the lake itself – it seems to have escaped the rampant commercialization that has affected many of China’s most beautiful natural assets.

Having driven so far, we finally felt we were witnessing the spectacular scenery we had set out to discover. The lake is ringed on three sides by mountains and is home to significant numbers of deer – the name Luming itself means “Singing Deer.” While we couldn’t verify whether the deer at the lake do sing, my husband and I agreed that strolling along the lake’s shore and closing our eyes to listen to nature’s tranquil tune was one of the most peaceful experiences of our lives to date.

Our next stop was Shitanglin. This lava-charred moonscape was formed by several volcanic eruptions in the Quarternary Period. While greenery has forced its way back up through the cracks in the stone and shallow rock pools now dot the landscape, it was eerie to contemplate the utter destruction of the area at the hands of a violent but now-extinct volcano a million years ago.

Santanxia, or Three Pools Gorge, lay further along the road from Shitanglin. Here, the torrential Halaha River passes through an igneous rock gulch and out into the three-kilometer-long gorge that contains the three pools: Woniu (Crouching Bull) Pool, Hushi (Tiger Stone) Pool and Yuexin (Cheerful Mind) Pool. While the scenery certainly did evoke images suggested by the pools’ epithets, we were disappointed to find the water, famed for its piercing transparency, was misty due to the recent rain.

After this letdown, we continued on our journey to Arxan Tianchi (Heavenly) Lake, the third-highest lake by altitude in the entire country. Surrounded by peaks on all sides, when viewed from above, the lake is said to appear as a single tear shed by God. To fully appreciate the beauty of the lake, we hiked up a 1,000-step path to a viewing platform, and at five o’clock in the afternoon were the only tourists doing so. Except for one park ranger, we were completely alone. On the viewing platform, chirping birds accompanied us as we took in the awesome scenery. Gusts of wind billowed across the lake’s surface. The lake itself resembled large precious jade inset among spiring pines and towering cypresses. Walking back down to our car and into the setting sun, we felt we’d spent the afternoon in our very own fairy-tale paradise.

Twilight lingers at higher latitudes, and as the sun refused to capitulate we had enough time to marvel at a couple of more lakes before turning in for the evening.

Like Luming Lake, Xianhe (Crane) Lake is only reachable by unpaved road. If tourism is to expand in the region one hopes adequate roads will soon be built. Nevertheless, for us the dirt track and the dilapidated dwellings along the river were reminiscent of many a pastoral painting.