When the RV’s windows were gently tapped by Altay’s morning mist, we woke from dreams of mountains and wilds on a vast pasture and set out once more.

Today’s destination was Taochaganguole Lake. A herding track of more than a hundred kilometers led there. The wheels rolled over the boundary between grassland and river valley, and row after row of birch forest fell behind us, until the lake appeared.

It lies hidden deep in the forest-steppe on the southern slopes of the eastern Altai Mountains, encircled by mountains, peak upon peak. The water has the kind of color that instantly quiets you—deep, heavy, like a sapphire cradled in the palms of the mountains. Some call it a “Little Tianchi.” I think it is more like a sentence the mountains have hidden for a long time: only when you reach it will it finally speak to you.

One by one, the vehicles came to a stop. Doors opened and closed again. We surrendered our time to nature—some strolling slowly along the lake, some sitting quietly on the shore. Mountains and rivers say nothing, yet they embrace all who come hastening toward them. The weariness of the journey melted away completely in this moment.

Dusk slowly suffused the earth, and the setting sun gilded the rolling mountains with a layer of gentle warm gold. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something, yet no one said it aloud. Dusk kept the secret for everyone and stretched the waiting out, long and warm. Then—the cake made its entrance.

By the lake at 2,396 meters above sea level, in the embrace of the Altai Mountains, in a place with only one bar of cellphone signal, this cake had not come easily. It was a very ordinary cake, but when it was brought out, everyone gathered around. A person will celebrate many birthdays in a lifetime, but there should be one time when the most important day is given to the vastest place. This is ARMADILLO-style romance.

The night deepened. Taochaganguole Lake will not remember us, but we will always remember it. We will remember that on this autumn night, it lit a whole lake of starlight for us. And Altay’s autumn is still moving forward, and so are we. So, see you on the next stretch of the road...