Free Alternative to Moxi Park: The Wild Charm of Accidentally Discovering "Little Moxi" After Snowfall

Free Alternative to Moxi Park: The Wild Charm of Accidentally Discovering "Little Moxi" After Snowfall in One Day

Originally planned to rush into Moxi Park at dawn to shoot the "exotic planet" snowy scenery, but as soon as the car reached the park entrance, we were stopped by staff—an unexpected heavy snowfall last night broke the main boardwalk, and the park was temporarily closed. Snow clearing would take at least three hours. Seeing the sky turning a crab-shell blue, our group exchanged glances: wait or leave? The nearest alternative on the navigation was only 12 kilometers away, called "Waze Township Moxi Valley," with a note like a lifeline: free, wild scenery, Little Moxi. Turning the steering wheel, the SUV rolled over the unmelted ice chunks and turned around. No one expected this detour to lead to the most photogenic adventure of the day.

The last 2 kilometers to "Little Moxi" is a farm road, which after melting snow looked like freshly unwrapped chocolate—soft and sticky. Two men wrapped in cloaks stood at the entrance, holding not the usual "photo horses" from the park, but genuine Ganzi ponies. One man spoke in halting Mandarin: "Inside, the mud is knee-deep. If the horse goes in, or a person goes in, the shoes are gone." The bargaining felt like a small bonfire party: the man asked for 80 yuan round trip, we offered 60, he shook his head and pointed to the sky saying the snow was thick. We handed over a bottle of Red Bull, he twisted it open, drank half, wiped his mouth, and said "Let's go!"—deal done.

After the snow, "Little Moxi" seemed muted. The black mylonite mountain body pierced out from the gray-white world, its edges sharp as if chopped by a giant axe. Snow remained embedded in the rock crevices, the black and white contrast more primitive than the "filtered Mars" look of Moxi Park. The biggest surprise was no railings or boardwalks; we could step directly onto the rock surface—one step down, a crisp "crack" sound as the snow crust broke, revealing the shiny black beneath, like the earth had been waxed. My companion Xiao Zhuo flew the drone up to 120 meters; the camera dove down, showing the four of us like grains of salt scattered on an inkstone, with the background resembling coal slag rice paper crumpled by giant hands.

Post by FRANCES PRATT | Nov 5, 2025