My daughter fell in love with the desert after our trip to Dunhuang last month. Ever since we got back, she’s been begging to go to Crescent Spring again.
Say no more!
However, a desert trip during the National Day holiday means avoiding tourist hotspots like Shapotou and Xiangshawan. After some research, I landed on a less-traveled route: Bayannur – Alxa – Wuhai – Shizuishan – Yinchuan. The entire drive was a breeze, with green routes on the map app all the way. The attractions weren’t crowded either. We spent two days playing in the sand and two days sightseeing, discovering a desert and Gobi landscape different from Dunhuang’s. This “reverse tourism” trip was a huge success.
Most of this route winds through western Inner Mongolia, with a small portion dipping into northern Ningxia. It largely follows the Yellow River through the western section of the Hetao Plain.
Inner Mongolia has a vast east-west span with diverse landscapes. The east boasts the Hulunbuir Grasslands, but since it’s north of Harbin, October is already winter. The grass turns yellow and it’s bone-chillingly cold. The central region offers both grasslands and deserts; Ulanqab’s Ulan Hada volcano was a close contender for this trip. But for a true desert experience, you have to head west. The four westernmost prefecture-level cities—Alxa, Bayannur, Wuhai, and Ordos—are the premier choices for desert adventures.
Day 1: Arriving in Bayannur
We flew from Hangzhou to Bayannur with a transfer in Beijing.
The flight from Beijing to Bayannur offered views of complex mountain terrain, likely over the Shanxi area if I recall correctly.
In Mongolian, Bayannur means “rich” (Bayan) “lake” (Nuur). As you travel through Inner Mongolia, you’ll encounter “Bayan” and “Nuur” frequently in place names. Other common Mongolian terms in place names include Hot (city), Gol (river), and Ulan (red), appearing in various combinations.
Bayannur is often shortened to “Ba League,” where “League” (盟) is an administrative division equivalent to a prefecture-level city. On your travels, you’ll also see many “Banners” (旗), such as Alxa Left Banner and Urat Rear Banner, which correspond to county-level cities.
I picked up the rental car at the airport. It’s been years since my last car rental trip, and I was surprised to find the process is now fully automated. You inspect the vehicle and unlock it all through your phone.
On my first road trip in Inner Mongolia, the bilingual road signs immediately caught my eye. Nearly every Chinese character was accompanied by Mongolian script.
Inner Mongolia uses the traditional Uyghur-style Mongolian script, an older form that resembles braided hair.
This is completely different from the Phags-pa script promoted by Kublai Khan, which was influenced by the Tibetan alphabet but is no longer a living language.
Meanwhile, the nation of Mongolia, due to influence from the former Soviet Union, adopted the Cyrillic alphabet (essentially Russian letters) for writing Mongolian. In recent years, there has been a push to revive the traditional script, and now both are used officially.
I don’t speak Mongolian, but after observing the script for a few days, I noticed a pattern. The number of characters doesn’t always match the Chinese. For proper nouns like place names, the Mongolian is often one long, continuous “braid,” regardless of the number of Chinese characters. However, for modern concepts like “County Government,” the word counts often align. I suspect these modern terms were phonetically transliterated from Chinese, creating this discrepancy.
I’m not sure if my theory holds water; I’d love for any Mongolian-speaking friends to shed some light on this.
Back to the journey. We checked into our hotel in Ba League that night. I had been picturing a city the size of Dunhuang, but as we drove into the urban area, I realized they were in different leagues entirely.
Dunhuang is a remote county-level city under Jiuquan’s jurisdiction. While famous for tourism, its scale and population are no match for the prefecture-level city of Bayannur. Ba League is filled with residential buildings over 20 stories high, generally taller than those in Hangzhou, giving it a vibe similar to cities in Guangdong or Fujian. A quick search showed Ba League has a population of 1.5 million, compared to Hangzhou’s roughly 10 million. That’s a considerable size for a non-provincial capital in the north.
Day 2: Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake
The adventure officially began.
The Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake is a very niche, off-the-radar spot. When we arrived, you couldn’t tell it was a national holiday. The low ticket price is a dead giveaway that this place is more for locals than tourists.
Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake lies at the foot of the Yin Mountains, that faint range you see in the distance—yes, the same ones from the famous ancient poem.
The scenic area has two parts. You first arrive at a lake area with various water and sand activities, mostly involving boats and vehicles, plus the obligatory camel rides. For my daughter, having sand, water, and camels was a perfect day.
A long ride on a desert bus takes you into the desert proper. This is where the real magic happens, deep in the Ulan Buh Desert. It was an experience that even the more popular spots later in the trip couldn’t match.
This area has fewer activities: sandboarding, archery, and go-karts. From the top of the sandboarding dune, you get a stunning panoramic view of the Ulan Buh Desert. Sandboarding is unlimited—sleds are scattered at the bottom for you to grab and use as you please. The go-karts are also a blast; I highly recommend a couple of laps.
This spot is on the way from Ba League to the Western Dream Canyon, so logically, it’s best to visit it en route to avoid backtracking. However, it takes a long time to fully enjoy, making it difficult to fit into a single day with other destinations, and there aren’t many good hotels nearby. I’d suggest skipping it if you’re traveling without kids or with older children, as Wuhai Lake offers a similar and more comprehensive experience.
But this day was all about my daughter’s fun in the sand. Other sights could wait. We left just before sunset and headed back to Ba League.
The drive back was scenic, with lush vegetation, small villages, and vast fields of reeds and sunflowers.
The suburbs here in the Hetao Plain are vastly different from those around Dunhuang. Dunhuang is surrounded by arid land with almost no agriculture. Here, thanks to the Yellow River, the plain is one of China’s key agricultural hubs. The villages we passed were all business, with shops selling seeds and offering farm equipment repair. Unlike rural areas in southern China, you won’t find “agritainment” or leisure farms here; everything is dedicated to supporting agriculture.
Day 3: Yin Mountains Drive & Western Dream Canyon
This was our longest day on the road.
We set off from Ba League and drove towards the Yin Mountains again. From this day forward, the weather turned overcast, adding a stark, desolate beauty to the landscape, though it wasn’t ideal for photography.
We passed Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake once more. The hazy air finally cleared as we reached the foot of the Yin Mountains, revealing their true form.
We drove along the southern foothills, which are quite steep. The northern slope, by contrast, is much gentler, gradually merging into the Inner Mongolian Plateau.
The Yin Mountains are a significant climatic divide, but in a counter-intuitive way. One would assume the sunny southern slope, which also gets the summer monsoon winds, would be more verdant. However, in this arid region, it’s not about how much moisture you get, but how much you can keep. The southern slope’s intense sun exposure causes rapid evaporation, while the shaded, cooler northern slope retains more moisture, supporting lush alpine grasslands.
It’s fascinating to imagine a completely different world thriving just behind these barren-looking peaks.
We spent most of the day driving along the base of the mountains, the reddish-brown range weaving in and out of view. I put on a Xu Wei playlist I’d prepared, and the vibe was just incredible—an experience I’ll never forget.
Our first stop was Jilu Fort, said to be where the famous Han dynasty lady-in-waiting, Wang Zhaojun, passed through on her way to marry a nomadic chieftain. This photo shows the landscape along the highway nearby, where you can see the varied colors and compositions of the Yin Mountains’ rock and soil.
We didn’t actually make it into the site, though, due to a small mishap.
Jilu Fort also serves as the base camp for an off-road event. But the navigation app didn’t seem to care, routing me as if I were in a 4x4. Things got sketchy fast—the path was leading us into a creek bed, which our standard sedan couldn’t handle.
I had to turn off the navigation and try to find the way myself by following tire tracks. My reward? Getting stuck in a seemingly harmless patch of sand.
By the time we were rescued an hour later, it was too late to visit. We took a closer look at the mountains and got back on the road.
We passed A’gui Temple and the Yin Mountain Rock Paintings without stopping, heading straight for our main destination: the Western Dream Canyon.
On the other side of the road lay a desert at the foot of the Yin Mountains. Despite the low-lying shrubs, the colors were astonishingly rich: various shades of green, yellow, orange, pink, and burgundy, all set against the white of the salt flats. It was as vibrant as any autumn forest.
We reached the Western Dream Canyon, a stunning Yardang landform carved by wind erosion. We had now officially entered Alxa League.
This spot was more popular, with more tourists, but it still didn’t feel crowded.
The area has three routes. The central path is the core attraction, where you drive a short distance before walking or taking a shuttle for an up-close look at the canyon. The left and right routes are full self-driving loops with scenery that’s grander in scale but a bit more monotonous.
The left-hand route climbs to a high plateau offering a wide-open view of a wind farm deep within the mountains. From here, you can clearly see the different colored rock layers of the Yin Mountains; only the deep red sandstone has been sculpted into canyons.
After our visit, we had another two-hour-plus drive to the city of Wuhai. This stretch was also spectacular. Before hitting the expressway, we drove a long road that cut straight through the Ulan Buh Desert, flanked by endless yellow sand and occasional, massive solar farms. Many of these roads were unnamed on the map, and one was simply called the “Desert-Crossing Highway.”
Day 4: Wuhai Lake
Wuhai Lake was a highlight of our trip, and the city of Wuhai itself left a fantastic impression. It was another day dedicated to playing in the sand.
Looking at a map, it’s surprising to find a city as compact as Wuhai in the vast expanse of Inner Mongolia. But its modern streets, towering skyscrapers, and “Meng C” license plate (indicating its importance) suggest this city is something special.
A bit of research revealed its history as a classic resource-based city, built on coal. Wuhai was formed by merging two areas, Wuda and Haibowan, which originally belonged to different leagues. Due to the rich coal deposits, both areas were elevated to city status before being combined into one.
Wuhai’s centerpiece, Wuhai Lake, is a marvel in itself. It was created by diverting water from the Yellow River into the Ulan Buh Desert, forming a massive man-made lake. The Yellow River flows into the lake from the south and exits from the north to continue its journey.
The east bank of the lake is home to the city and a free public riverside park where the tour boat docks are located. The west bank is the Wuhai Lake Scenic Area, which features a unique “thousand-island lake” landscape in the desert, accessible only by boat.
Being a national holiday, we waited in line for the boat for at least 40 minutes. However, the city had thoughtfully arranged for a live band and a clown to entertain the queue, who even interacted with tourists, asking where they were from. It was a nice touch.
Listening in, I realized nearly everyone was from neighboring provinces—Ningxia, Shaanxi, Gansu, Xinjiang—with a few from the northeast. I overheard one family from Shanghai, which, along with our family from Zhejiang, made us the only two from the south. It seems Wuhai isn’t quite a top-tier national tourist destination yet.
Once we disembarked, we were in the main activity area. The crowd from the boat quickly dispersed across the vast space, and it suddenly felt spacious again.
The whole place felt like an upgraded version of Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. With huge expanses of both water and sand, the variety of activities is immense, surpassing even Dunhuang’s Mingsha Mountain. It’s a paradise for adventure seekers, with dune buggies, desert off-roading, helicopters, and speedboats.
There wasn’t much for my young daughter to do, though. We took a sightseeing shuttle to the far side of the dunes to walk along the famous desert highway.
A perfectly straight road cutting through the desert, pointing like a sword towards the distant city skyline and mountains.
Climbing a dune beside the road, the view towards the city was a stunning tapestry of layers: sand dunes, the lake, reed marshes, city skyscrapers, and Gande’er Mountain, creating five distinct horizontal lines. The human-like figure on the mountain peak is a colossal statue of Genghis Khan.
The scenery here is highly dependent on the weather; overcast skies don’t do it justice. But on a clear day, it must be breathtaking—the online photos are no exaggeration. Spring or summer might be the best times to visit.
For a phone photographer like me who sticks to auto mode, sunny weather is crucial in Wuhai. On a clear day, the lake reflects a brilliant blue sky. The contrast between that saturated blue and the yellow sand makes phone cameras produce incredibly vibrant photos. On an overcast day without any strong colors, the photos turn out flat and gray.
Take the top-right photo, for example. The bright red of the lighthouse and the blue of the floating bridge gave the camera’s algorithm enough color information to better capture what I saw, even rendering the sky’s gradient with more subtlety.
After the desert highway, we took a monster-wheeled truck to the lakeside to ride an amphibious vehicle. It was a gentle ride, and I even let my daughter drive the whole way. She’s had plenty of practice with kiddy cars at amusement parks and handled it like a pro.
We parked the vehicle and took a bamboo raft back to the main activity area. By then, the park was closing, and a light rain had started to fall. We took a quick camel ride before catching the boat back.
Wuhai Lake is a gathering place for countless red-billed gulls. They followed our boat on both trips, flying so close you felt you could almost touch them.
Our original plan for the evening was to drive to Shizuishan in Ningxia, to be closer to Shahu Lake, our next day’s destination. But given that Shahu Lake is similar to Wuhai Lake and we had spent a full, satisfying day here, we made a last-minute decision to stay another night in Wuhai.
Day 5: Shitanjing Town & Yinchuan
Since we were skipping Shizuishan and Shahu Lake, we picked an alternative from our list: the small town of Shitanjing.
Inner Mongolia truly lives up to its reputation as a wind power giant. The resources are abundant. Leaving Wuhai, we were constantly flanked by wind turbines; this was the closest we’d ever been to them.
Shitanjing Town is tucked deep in the Helan Mountains, on the road between Shizuishan and Yinchuan, and falls within Shizuishan’s administrative area.
Shizuishan is a bit like Wuhai. The two cities are neighbors, share similar natural resources, and were both elevated from counties to cities because of the coal industry. If Wuhai is Inner Mongolia’s “coal pearl,” Shizuishan is Ningxia’s industrial engine.
Shitanjing was once a booming coal mining base. Now, with its high-quality coal resources depleted, it has been repurposed as a film set. Its well-preserved 1960s architecture tells the story of that industrious era.
The town is tiny, just two intersecting streets. But this was once the bustling market for coal workers who came from all corners of the country, a place that added a little spice to their lives.
There are still businesses operating today, but now they serve tourists. With fewer than five restaurants, a handful of souvenir stalls, a couple of general stores, and a small exhibition hall, that’s the extent of it. The rest of the town is made up of empty, old buildings. On the outskirts, a few modern structures suggest some local industry still exists.
A kilometer away stand the abandoned miners’ dormitories, their windows now just dark, glassy voids. In the distance, the Helan Mountains stretch on endlessly.
As a film town, it has been the backdrop for many realist dramas. The only one I’ve seen is “Minning Town.”
This is one of the show’s filming locations, though I couldn’t for the life of me recognize the scene. The dilapidated houses resemble those in Yongquan Village. If this was indeed the setting, then the desert reclamation efforts over the years have been incredibly successful—the village in the show was completely barren.
Leaving Shitanjing, we drove a long stretch through the Helan Mountains. The rock layers, twisted by tectonic forces, have left wavy patterns etched into the mountainsides.
The Helan Mountains have many of these black rock strata. We also saw several active coal mines along the way, leading me to believe these black layers are rich in coal.
Once we left the mountains, we hit the expressway to Yinchuan. The desert and Gobi landscapes vanished completely, replaced by lush, green plains on both sides of the road.
This journey had taken us through a symphony of landscapes: farmland, Gobi, desert, the Yellow River, mountains, and plains. The scenery was ever-changing.
We arrived in Yinchuan, checked into our hotel, and headed out for dinner. Afterwards, we stumbled upon a National Day drone show during our walk. We were watching from behind, so all the images were mirrored.
But seriously, it’s a public holiday. Why are you showing me this?
Our walk took us to Yinchuan’s Drum Tower and the central pedestrian street.
Seeing the Drum Tower brought back a wave of memories from my Beijing trip a few years ago. It was the same season, the same temperature, another post-dinner stroll, and the architecture was strikingly similar.
The pedestrian street was packed. We decided not to brave the crowds, grabbed a few bottles of fresh milk, and taxied back to the hotel.
Day 6: The Journey Home
We didn’t plan any activities for our last day. Since the hotel didn’t offer breakfast anyway, we all slept in, filled up the car, returned it, and caught our flight back to Hangzhou.
You might be wondering why we drove to Yinchuan for our flight after visiting Shitanjing. The simple reason is that as a provincial capital, Yinchuan has direct flights. Flying from Shizuishan or Wuhai would have meant a layover of at least 1.5 hours. I’d much rather spend that time driving than sitting in an airport.
Trip Tidbits
Transportation
This was our first multi-city road trip with our daughter, covering about 400-500 kilometers. Thankfully, careful planning ensured each leg of the drive was under two hours, which was manageable for her and not too exhausting for me. One thing’s for sure: next time, I’m renting a car with cruise control. Manually maintaining speed is a real workout for your foot.
The attractions on this route are generally quite far from urban centers. Aside from Wuhai Lake, which is right in the city, most places were at least an hour’s drive from the nearest town. And since kids have no concept of time, we rarely hit the road before 11 a.m. This meant lunch was usually packed snacks or a big hotel breakfast that doubled as brunch.
Weather
During the National Day holiday, daytime temperatures in Ba League were a pleasant 20-25°C, with nights around 10°C. However, starting from our arrival in Wuhai, the weather turned overcast and chilly, with daytime highs dropping to around 15°C. It even rained on our last day in Yinchuan.
Food & Accommodation
Now, let’s talk about food. I’d read in travel guides that you can’t go wrong with beef and mutton in Inner Mongolia and Ningxia, and my experience confirmed it. Every meal was delicious. Even the hand-pulled mutton at the Yinchuan airport was so good we ordered a second large plate.
Curiously, the streets of Ba League had more shops selling duck necks and feet than mutton restaurants. A chain called “Lonely Duck” was as common as convenience stores. When I asked a local about it, she said, “We cook mutton at home all the time, so why would we go out for it?”
This local lady from Ba League gave us two excellent recommendations:
- Laoniutou: A tiny, hard-to-find shop near a fire station that sells beef jerky. She insisted we buy the fresh jerky sold by weight, not the pre-packaged kind, and mentioned she buys it herself regularly. We got half a kilogram, and the rich, beefy flavor was so addictive we snacked on it throughout the trip.
- Laoyangguan: A mutton hotpot restaurant just a few hundred meters from Laoniutou. We went there the night we got back from Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. We skipped the hotpot and ordered the hand-pulled mutton. The quality of the meat was superb; such a simple preparation was all it needed to be amazing.
I also have to recommend the Bolinhan Hotel in Wuhai. We booked it last minute when we decided to stay an extra night, and it turned out to be the best hotel of our entire trip, despite not being the most expensive. The bedding, amenities, and breakfast were all top-notch. The breakfast spread was fantastic, and the restaurant staff were incredibly warm and welcoming. It’s where I first tried savory Mongolian milk tea.
Next door to the hotel is Yanyun Casserole, a restaurant owned by the same hotel group. Trusting our “can’t-go-wrong-with-mutton” motto, we tried the radish & mutton casserole and the yellow tomato & beef casserole. Both were excellent.
We also kept encountering a local cold dish made primarily with bean sprouts. I found it delicious and refreshing and had it at several different restaurants.
All in all, our days consisted of a big breakfast and snacks for lunch, followed by a mutton feast for dinner every single night. I think I’ve had enough mutton to last me the next several months.
Trip Expenses
In the vast and sparsely populated northwest, transportation is the biggest cost. Airfare took the largest chunk, followed by the car rental.
Finally, two desert trips in just over a month have left me with plenty of memories to savor for a long time. It’s time for a change of pace for our next adventure. A beach island? A tropical rainforest? A winter wonderland?
Who knows? It’s the suspense that makes for a great surprise.