For a ranger, no mountain is too high to climb

When Ma Jiancheng decided to accept a job offer as a forest ranger at the Sidalong nature conservation station in the Qilian Mountains in Northwest China, he knew he would spend the rest of his life there.

"It was 1999, after I returned from military service. I took over the baton of patrolling from my father, who had worked in that role in the same area for 30 years," Ma said.

"I have a deep love for this position, and my interactions with local herders have always given me a special sense of simplicity and sincerity. These honest and kind-hearted herders motivated me to stay in the mountains and work at the grassroots level, even though I had another job offer in town with much better conditions."

In addition to his deep affection for the mountains, his father's perseverance and dedication to protecting the mountains also sowed a seed in Ma's heart. "During my childhood, I could only see my father twice a year — during the planting and harvest seasons. Even during Spring Festival, he couldn't come home because it coincided with the forest fire prevention period," Ma said.

This inspired him to become a patrolman himself, to restore and safeguard their beloved mountains.

Although Ma had anticipated the challenges of living in the high-altitude areas above 2,600 meters, the harsh conditions at the resource management center where he and his colleagues were stationed still took some time getting used to.

"The infrastructure was extremely underdeveloped at that time. There was no electricity, and we relied on kerosene lamps for lighting. We had to fetch water from a river several hundred meters away, and supplies were delivered by truck only three times a month, leaving us almost completely cut off from the outside world for the rest of the time," Ma said. "There was no phone at the station, and I didn't know my eldest daughter was born until three days after her birth!"

The resource management station where Ma works covers an area of about 20,000 hectares. Each ranger is required to patrol for at least 20 days a month, engaging in forest and grassland fire prevention, wildlife and wetland resource monitoring, comprehensive forest management, and educating herders on laws and regulations.

Every detail of their patrols is meticulously recorded; over the past 26 years, Ma has filled 60 to 70 notebooks. Each patrol lasts a minimum of three hours, with the longest covering a round trip of 80 kilometers. Ma's patrol mileage in his job has exceeded 100,000 km, equivalent to circling the Earth 2.5 times. "When the unit distributes supplies, we often say that they can skip other items, just give us more shoes because they wear out so quickly," Ma said.

Being a forest ranger means facing various uncertainties and emergencies. Ma and his colleagues have trekked steep mountain paths, encountered wolves, fallen off horses during patrols, and faced extreme weather conditions: winter temperatures dropping to minus 30 C with heavy snow sealing off the mountains, and frequent summer rains posing landslide threats.

"One summer, the rain was particularly heavy. A mudslide came down the mountain, destroying the station's building. We had to take shelter in a herder's sheep pen overnight, fortunately staving off any casualties," he said.

Now, thanks to technologies such as drones, infrared cameras, and video surveillance, areas that once required days of hiking or horseback riding to access are monitored round the clock.

Thanks to the dedicated efforts of several generations of forest patrolmen, there hasn't been a major forest fire in the area for 60 years. Besides, the health of the Qilian Mountains has improved significantly after years of restoration and protection, with more grass, taller trees, and more frequent sightings of wildlife. Local herders have also transitioned to patrolmen, learning to write and fill out patrol logs under Ma's guidance.

However, Ma also experienced deep sorrow during his career. In 2008, while on patrol in the mountains where there was no signal, a message was relayed to him through a herder that there was an emergency at home. "At that time, there was no vehicle to take me down the mountain, so I ran. It wasn't until I reached the foot of the mountain that I was able to catch a passing vehicle to the hospital in Zhangye city. My family told me my wife had been diagnosed with lung cancer. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't even stand."

Nine months later, his wife passed away, leaving behind a daughter not yet 5 years old. Her only wish was for Ma to take good care of their daughter. "That event hit me very hard," Ma said, with a slight catch in his throat. Ma didn't disclose how he coped with his grief, but he persevered in the mountainous area.

"After spending a few days in the city, I always feel something is missing. I've become unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of city life. I feel at peace only when I return to the mountains," he said.

Ma's daughter is about to transfer to Gansu Agricultural University this September to study landscape architecture. He's happy that she has chosen a path influenced by his own.