The street's architecture appears Nordic by necessity, not novelty. Its sheer steeples are designed to shed avalanches of snow that would crush flatter roofs. These sharp spires pierce the sky above stout yurts and rows of birch that lean over the Irtysh River, China's only waterway that flows north toward the Arctic Ocean.
The Folk Street draws its poetic name from the first 500 li (about 250 kilometers) of the Irtysh. The river drifts alongside the street, tickling the foot of Mount Jiangjun, or General Mountain — so named for the legend of an ancient martial commander buried within its slopes and some also say because its contours trace his silhouette. Visitors often spend the day skiing Jiangjun's slopes and the evening wandering Five-Hundred Li's boulevard.
On the other side of the street rises Camel Mountain, its twin humps offering a panoramic perch from which to view the city below.
The snow globe scene that is Five-Hundred Li Street is inhabited by a cast of fanciful characters, who are especially at home in this wintry cityscape. Snowmen wave twig arms outside shops. Human-sized nutcrackers gawk inside cafes. And semi-feral cats prowl their adoptive homes since it's a local custom to take in strays.
But the most prevalent nonhuman being is the most local. Altay's mascot, Ale, is a cute chimera of Kanas' mythical white bear and rabbit, who wears an ethnic Kazakh herder boy's smile. This playful snow-monster child travels by gliding atop the fur skis featured in the region's ancient petroglyphs, which many scholars argue offer humankind's first records of skiing.
Ale inhabits the folk street not only as an embodied symbol of the region — he also stands at its location as an intersection of ancient iconography and modern creativity.
His statue greets visitors to the Travel Book Club, a trendy shop selling whimsical items bearing his likeness and other local imagery, so visitors can take a piece of Altay's culture home with them.
Innovation is writing tradition's new chapters in this boutique store, which takes its alternative appellation, Altay Corner, from celebrated author Li Juan's eponymous biographical-essay collection.
