October 10, 2015: Zoige, China — Before first light this morning, Sid and I were driving through the mountains when we nearly ran into a black yak (a shaggy, domestic bovine) standing in the road. The yak retreated a little ways and Sid tried to maneuver around it, as you might slowly drive past a cow. But instead of stepping to the side, the yak suddenly turned around and charged!
Admittedly, I’ve never been charged by a black yak at o-dark-thirty on a rural Chinese road before. What to do? Sid kicked into reverse gear and we quickly backed up a couple hundred yards with the yak’s horns brushing inches away from the front bumper. We were afraid it might smash a headlight, and we finally retreated far enough that the yak broke off its charge. It stood in the center of the road, unbudging, and we found ourselves in a standoff. In the dark, only the green reflections of the yak’s eyes were visible in our headlights.
After a couple of minutes, our savior appeared in the form of a large truck that came up behind us. The truck swerved around the yak, which ran after the truck, and, in the confusion, Sid managed to get past. Most yaks, I should add, are not aggressive at all—we saw them all day today grazing peacefully on grassy hillsides. This particular one just had some strange chip on its shoulder.
After a couple of minutes, our savior appeared in the form of a large truck that came up behind us. The truck swerved around the yak, which ran after the truck, and, in the confusion, Sid managed to get past. Most yaks, I should add, are not aggressive at all—we saw them all day today grazing peacefully on grassy hillsides. This particular one just had some strange chip on its shoulder.