Just as the railroad opened up the American West, the dust track of Route 219 eternally altered the Tibetan and Chinese far west, making accessible in days a region where travel was once measured by months and seasons.
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The road along the western frontier stretches from dusty Yecheng - a town far beyond it's heyday on the southern rim of the Taklamakan desert - to Lhatze, where it meets the more substantial Friendship Highway between the Himalayan capitals of Kathmandu and Lhasa. Built to assert Chinese control right to the crests of the Himalaya, the track - for it is never much more than that - winds for over 2000km through some of the starkest and most absolute landscape in the world. Peppered by occasional distance (km) marker posts and an endless string of telegraph poles, it crosses some of the worlds highest motorable passes (at least three exceeding 5000m, and one above 5400m), and winds across the Aksai Chin, an inhospitably bleak high-altitude desert, elevated above 5km.
From a hitching perspective, traffic is light, and rides both difficult to come by and very expensive. In Yecheng travellers visibly not of a Chinese nationality can expect to pay up to ten times more to set off than the local fair of around Y100. The presence outside Mazar of a checkpost, specifically looking for non-Chinese travellers, coupled with threats and rumours of traffickers vehicles being forfeited, lead to an understandable wariness of foreigners, and consequently prices average around $50-$70US. There's no public transport as such. Land-cruisers can be hired by the wealthy at a cost of $2000-$3000.
The workhorse of the route, as across most of Western China, is the ubiquitous Dong Feng ('Do Fen') lorry. Almost always Enamel Blue, with painted Buddhist icons on the doors, a cracked windscreen and screen pillars fatigued from years of vibrations, these Soviet-era trucks ply the tracks and haunt the repair shops of the region!
The trucks appear to be privately owned and operated, either by a solitary driver, or an extended family group. Travelling with a group does cut down on space, but the family nature possibly provides greater security to hitchers, in what is otherwise an extremely isolated journey. Some of the individual drivers you couldn't trust so far as you could throw... The drivers fill their trucks with a bizarre assortment of items, and sell them through shops or roadside stalls in Ali, from where they filter through the rest of Ngari and even so far as Lhasa.
The truck itself comprises a cab for 3-4 people, behind which the flat bed of the truck is loaded up to the canvas covered staples with cargo and supplies for the journey. Passengers generally travel in the back with the cargo. Inanimate travelling companions range from the obligatory (2 drums of diesel fuel, drivers sleeping roll, spare tyre inner tubes) to the optional (Pepsi, onions and hundreds of melons) and the bizarre (plastic garden furniture, and livestock - animals can't be successfully kept in Ali year-round). If you get in with the right drivers, you certainly won't go hungry!
A word on safety. The road is very high, exposed and isolated. There is no backup in the event of an accident or emergency. For this reason travelling in a group of trucks, and preferably with a balanced family unit (to benefit from the moderating influence of the gentler sex!) is strongly recommended. The temperature plummets overnight, a fall exacerbated by wind-chill through the back of the truck if, as is often the case, you keep driving non-stop. Food is generally (though not necessarily) provided by the drivers - acquire a taste for Tibetan Tsampa! Something to return the favour is a nice touch. Finally, remember that in the event of a serious problem, you would be on your own, equipped with only what you carried with you.