Conservation rides the rails

On a monitor, Gayer Tudam Damba, 45, a wildlife protector on China's Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, watched a baby bar-headed goose poke its tiny head out of a cracked shell. For him, the moment made his lifelong commitment to protecting the species feel worthwhile.

His connection with these birds began long before cameras and monitors became part of his work. Born in Qinghai province, Tudam grew up along the Tuotuo River, a headstream of the Yangtze River. Nearby Bande Lake, which lies within the Tuotuo River system, is one of the world's densest breeding areas for bar-headed geese.

At the lake, his main job is to monitor the birds and protect their eggs from theft. Around May each year, when he spots an egg tucked beneath a goose's feathers, Tudam knows the birds have once again traveled from India and Nepal, crossed the Himalayas and reached Qinghai province.

"Seeing them fly so far nonstop makes me feel the power of resilience that human beings can learn from," Tudam said.

Tudam became so attached to the birds that he came to call himself their "dad", returning to Bande Lake year after year to watch over them. But protecting them in such an isolated place was difficult. For years, he worked with limited equipment and little outside support.

That began to change when the Qinghai–Xizang Railway went into full operation in 2006, bringing rail service to the Xizang autonomous region for the first time and connecting remote areas of the plateau to a broader transportation network.

The Tuotuo River area, where Tudam lives, was among the newly connected places. Tuotuohe Railway Station became a key stop for people and supplies headed to Bande Lake.

Before the railway opened, Tudam struggled to obtain even basic supplies. A flashlight and a pair of binoculars were among his most useful pieces of equipment. Without modern monitoring devices, fieldwork could also be dangerous.

"Bears looking for eggs often lurked right beside me. I can't remember how many times I drove them off with a flashlight," he said.

Today, Tudam can monitor the birds remotely through footage from pan-tilt cameras in a container-based monitoring room. If lightning damages electrical equipment, he no longer has to worry about being left for days without power or a way to cook. Spare parts sent by rail from places such as Hebei province can reach him in about three days.

"The railway brings not only equipment, but also lasting support for ecological protectors throughout their careers," Tudam said.

From one to many

The railway's impact has extended beyond making Tudam's work easier. Six years after the railway opened, a volunteer project for bar-headed goose conservation was launched. Improved transportation made it easier for volunteers from across China to travel by rail to the Tuotuo River area, turning Tudam's once-solitary work into a shared effort.

The project was initially based at a conservation site outside Bande Lake. As the number of volunteers grew, permanent facilities were established at Bande Lake in 2018, followed later by a wildlife observation station.

Last year, Chen Shan, 37, traveled by train from Golmud in Qinghai to volunteer at the Bande Lake observation site. Along the way, she watched Tibetan wild asses roaming and grazing beside the tracks.

"The scene showed me that nature and modern development can coexist," Chen said.

At Bande Lake, Chen learned bird counting and remote monitoring from Tudam. She was one of five volunteers collaborating with him. The group also launched public conservation activities, including a campaign encouraging visitors to "take away a bag of trash" and play a part in protecting the plateau environment.

"We bag the rubbish for visitors to take away as a 'souvenir', reminding them they have contributed to protecting the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau ecosystem," Chen said.

For Tudam, the growing involvement of volunteers marked another change. Conservation was no longer simply about watching over wildlife; it was also about encouraging more people to take part.

By 2026, more than 1,700 volunteers had participated in conservation programs run by the local ecological protection station. Some, like Chen, came once. Others returned repeatedly.

For Wang Fan, a police officer from Chengdu, Sichuan province, that connection with the plateau began even before the railway opened.

In 2004, while the Qinghai–Xizang Railway was still under construction, Wang traveled to the plateau as a volunteer helping protect Tibetan antelopes.

Wang and other volunteers patrolled the Qinghai–Xizang Highway during the antelopes' migration, helping safeguard more than 2,000 animals.

"Many were new mothers migrating with their calves," Wang recalled, adding that vehicles on the highway sometimes struck the animals.

The volunteers also collected more than 2,000 sets of data on Tibetan antelopes, helping document their skittish nature and their need for open spaces when crossing.

Concerns about wildlife migration were also reflected in the railway's design and later upgrades. Dedicated wildlife passages were built along the railway to keep migration routes open. During a 2015 capacity-expansion project, the planned site of Hoh Xil Railway Station was shifted 8.8 kilometers north to avoid a Tibetan antelope migration corridor.

More than a decade later, in 2016, Wang returned to the plateau, this time as a volunteer at Bande Lake.

This August, she made the journey once again, with her daughter. They traveled along the Qinghai–Xizang Railway to Bande Lake, where Wang reunited with Tudam. During the train ride, her daughter watched Tibetan antelopes through the window. At the lake, she saw bar-headed geese up close.

"Back at school, my daughter couldn't wait to share her experience with her classmates, sparking more children's interest in ecological protection," Wang said.