By He Yong, Qiao Dong, People’s Daily
Even in April, the vast, wind-whipped plains of Hoh Xil remain cloaked in snow and silence. Tucked within the Sanjiangyuan National Park in the remote headwaters of the Yangtze River in northwest China’s Qinghai province, this high-altitude wilderness – averaging more than 4,500 meters above sea level – is the country’s largest World Natural Heritage site. Its extreme coldness, thin air, and sweeping isolationhave preserved a raw, otherworldly ecosystem, home to endangered wildlife such as Tibetan antelopes and wild yaks.
But the region’s remoteness is no longer a barrier to protection. Conservation here is entering the digital age.
Turning west from ChinaNational Highway 109, People’s Daily reporters joined rangers from Sanjiangyuan National Park’s Hoh Xil administration on a patrol to Zhuonai Lake. As the convoy pushed deeper into the highland wilderness, herds of Tibetan wild asses, wild yaks, and Tibetan antelopes grazed and wandered freely across the plains.
The road, like much of Hoh Xil’s core protection zone, remains untouched – a deliberate choice to minimize human disruption. But signs of modern conservation infrastructure are increasingly visible. Along the route, perching frames for eagles punctuate the landscape at intervals, offering safe roosts forhighland birds of prey and encouraging biodiversity. Nearby, sleek, solar-powered monitoring stations quietly collect data on climate conditions and soil composition – valuable input for researchers studying the region’s natural environment.
Since the national park was established, ranger teams have traded their aging pickups for high-performance 4×4 vehicles. Satellite phones,once a luxury, are now standard issue, providing check-in options on patrols that once lasted half a month without contact.
By nightfall, the team reached the Zhuonai Lake protection station, perched more than 4,800 meters above sea level. To their surprise, cell service had reached even here. “The telecom network was completed just last year,” said Guo Xuehu, the station’sformer deputy head. “It runs on solar power. Now I can video-call my family during the day. I feel very content.”
Guo, 48, spent 13 years at the Zhuonai Lake protection station before transferring to the Kunan protection station as deputy head two years ago. As one of the six manned stations across Hoh Xil, Kunan is currently staffed by seven rangers who patrol the wilderness in rotating pairs – each tour lasting roughly 15 days.
Since the establishment of the Sanjiangyuan National Park, the Kunan protection station has taken on more than just patrol duties – it has become a base for scientific research. Each summer, Zhuonai Lake transforms into what rangers call a “maternity ward” for nearly 30,000 Tibetan antelopes migrating through Kunan to give birth. Last year, Guo joined a research expedition from the Northwest Institute of Plateau Biology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, spending two weeks tracking the animal’smigration.
The payoff from years of protection and monitoring is beginning to show. Over the past decade, water conservation in the Sanjiangyuan area has risen by over 6 percent on average each year. Wildlife populations have also seen a notable recovery. The Tibetan antelope numbers have climbed from fewer than 20,000 individuals to over 70,000, leading to their reclassification from “critically endangered” to “near threatened.”Once-rare sightings of snow leopards, Amur leopards, and Eurasian otters are also becoming more frequent.
The job of a ranger has evolved alongside this recovery. “Before, our work was mostly about stopping poachers and illegal mining,” Guo noted. “Now, we’re also tracking ecological indicators and helping with public environmental education.”
At the Sonam Dargye protection station, the eastern gateway to Hoh Xil, that educational role is on full display. Every year, volunteers and visitors travel from across China to learn about the region. Last year, the station opened a new 300-square-meter exhibition hall introducing visitors to Hoh Xil’s geography, ecology, and the institutional evolution of its protection. “Every staff member here also acts as a guide,” said station ranger Bayier. “We know Hoh Xil inside and out, and we want to share that knowledge.”
Behind the station, a fenced-off grassland serves as a temporary home for rescued animals. When Bayier mimicked the whistling calls of Tibetan antelopes, a few heads peeked out from a distant slope. The young antelopes bounded toward him, recognizing his voice. He pulled out a milk bottle and gently patted their heads as he fed them. “These are the ones we rescued last year,” he explained. “After a year of care and rewilding training, they’ll be released back into the wild. We also take in birds, like falcons.”
Technology has become an increasingly important tool in this work. A 20-meter monitoring tower now stands beside the station, part of a broader surveillance system that transmits live footage back to park headquarters. “It’s made our enforcement much more efficient,”Bayier said.
That surveillance system is part of a sophisticated sky-ground intelligent monitoring network that combines satellite data, drones, and ground sensors. Sun Lijun, deputy director of the Sanjiangyuan National Park Administration, said that the system provides accurate, real-time information essential for managing ecosystems, protecting wildlife, and supporting ranger patrols in the park.
