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I'm traveling on a barge down China's Yangtze River. It's a wild ride. It's raining, and the rushing water tosses the small barge about. I hang on, hoping we won't crash into the rocks poking through the water.

I try to stay calm. I look around. Heavy rains have caused the river water to rise. Uprooted trees and brush rush by. Will one of the heavy tree trunks smash into us? I cross my fingers, wishing for good luck.

We finally reach the shore. I take a deep breath and look at the river. It is the longest river in Asia. It is also one of the best ways of getting around. There are few roads here.

Rain is still falling, but I'm happy to stand on firm ground. Now it's time to head away from the river into the misty Hengduan Mountains of southwest China.

These beautiful mountains cut through China. Snow covers the highest peaks. Wispy clouds weave through the mountains and the nearby valleys. Lush brush and vibrant wildflowers sprout from the valley floors. It is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen.

I didn't come just to gaze at the scenery. I've come to meet the people of the mountains. The Zang, Qiang, Baima, and Lisu all live here.

These peoples are ethnic groups. That means they share an ancestry, a tradition, a language, and a religion. China has many different ethnic groups.

In the mountains, I come across many villages. Each is different. Yet people in them share a common belief. They all think the mountains are sacred. The land provides them with food, water, shelter, and medicine.

I soon learn that most of the people I meet know two languages. Each ethnic group has its own language. Many people in the area also speak Chinese, however. I communicate with them through a Chinese interpreter.

I talk to the people in each village. I have a special memory of each one. For example, a Baima lady tries to sell me live salamanders—not to keep as pets, but to eat. I buy them. Later, when she can't see me, I let them go.

In another village, a little girl named Wang Teng follows me. Everywhere I go, she goes. We can’t talk to each other, but we smile a lot. We have a great time together. She collects flowers and gives them to me.

Wang Teng belongs to the Qiang people. They have lived in China for at least 3,000 years. The Qiang dwell in small villages on the sides of mountains.

Houses in Wang Teng's village are made of stone or wood. Many have bamboo shutters and bark roofs. I see people gazing out the windows at me. People in this part of the world don't see many strangers.

Most villagers go about their daily chores. The Qiang grow buckwheat, barley, potatoes, and other crops. Some people raise animals. They have sheep, horses, yaks, and cows.

They also collect forest products, such as ferns and mushrooms. I see a man walking out of the forest with a bundle of firewood on his back. Making fires is how people here stay warm and cook food.

Later, many villagers are sitting around an outdoor fire. I join them. They tell me about their forest home. They tell me about some of the animals that live there.

I learn about a legendary creature. It is a large animal that looks like a man. It has long brown fur and big fangs. They seem afraid of it.

The description sounds familiar, though. I take out a book and show them a picture. It's of the animal they are talking about. It is the rare and beautiful snub-nosed monkey.

This animal is shy. It mostly stays away from people. Still, I understand how it got a fearsome reputation. It looks scary. The large monkey has pointy ears and sharp teeth. Plump lips and small eyes give it a creepy look.

I tell the villagers that the snub-nosed monkey is the only monkey that lives in these cold mountains. I also tell them that it eats lichens. They are a kind of moss-like plant.

All the talk about the snub-nosed monkey has made me want to find one. Early the next morning, I hike into the forest. I sit down and wait. I snack on leftover dough. It is cold and rubbery, but my stomach stops grumbling.

Time passes slowly. I sit for hours. I wonder if I will spot a monkey. Then I hear leaves rustling nearby. The noise gets louder and louder. Something is coming closer.

I pick up my camera. I point it toward the rustling. I get ready to snap some photos.

Then the monkeys burst noisily out of the shadows. Long orange fur swoops behind them as they leap through the trees. One stands on two legs. Suddenly, I can truly see why the local people fear this big, furry creature.

The monkeys' antics go on for 30 minutes. I count at least 80 monkeys. I take photos of many of them. Then the animals fade back into the forest. Seeing them was worth the wait!

Tired but happy, I head back to the village. There's a lot of activity. The villagers have prepared a party for me. They've cooked ferns and mushrooms. There is hot tea to drink.

People at the party come from different ethnic groups. Each has its own style of clothes. Many women wear sparkly tops. They also have colorful robes with long, graceful sleeves. Braided cloth wreaths rest on their heads.

The men wear large fur hats and colorful shirts. They also wear skirts over their pants.

Everyone begins to dance. I see a swirl of color and cloth. First, women and men dance separately. The dances show off their fine clothes. Soon all the villagers join in.

I don't speak or understand their language. It doesn't matter. Everyone is smiling and happy. I feel lucky to be part of this fun party. It's a perfect ending to my visit to these misty mountains of China.

Article by Cristina Mittermeier. Top-of-page photo by Xi Zhinong. "People of the Misty Mountains" appears on pages 14-19 of our January-February 2007 issue.