I’m back in the US for about 10 days.   Some fun differences in living style, habits, and culture that smacked me in the face within twelve hours of arriving in the US:

• At Hong Kong airport, walking to the gate for the first plane on the journey to Seattle.   I swear I hear the announcer call for boarding for business class ticket holders.   So, I look at the gate, there are two long lines about 3-5 feet away from the check-in point.   Someone just went through but no one else is moving.   So, doing the only normal thing for someone in China to do, I walk directly up to the check-in point when a cantankerous old American traveler barks at me, “Hey!   Git in line like the rest of us!”   “Didn’t they just call business class?”   “Yeah, but (stumble for more angry words as I walk to the back of the line).”   In China, if there’s a line that far away and there’s nobody moving, then there’s no line.   (Most of the travelers in this line were Americans.)
• Cars stop if I’m just standing on the sidewalk facing the road even with no intention of crossing.   Those who know me well know this is my #1 pet peeve about the Seattle area – pedestrians can stop traffic.   I’m resisting the urge to go off on how ludicrous of an idea this county law is.   I find it funny that in China you can easily find thirty people lined up along the double yellow lines waiting to pass between moving traffic.
• I went to get a breakfast bagel at Noah’s in Kirkland right after opening.   I told the manager that, according to their hours posted, they opened one hour late.   She went off to fix the sign instructing one of the young lady staff members to take care of me before she went to her car to get some personal item.   As the manager walked off, I noticed out of the corner of my eye the girl making an angry face behind the manager’s back and the eyeroll at another coworker.   “Not a big fan of the manager, eh?” “Well, <sigh> sometimes…”   I have not seen anything remotely close to that in China, just the opposite.   And they don’t work for tips there either.   That’s right, tipping is not a custom in China.   But, while I was in Xi’an last weekend, I did see some oblivious tourists tipping bellboys for carrying their bags out to the busses.   Stop!

Lines in the west…and in China:

Courtesy of this website.

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Finally. I’ve been to Huashan. Ever since seeing that email showing the hazards of Huashan circulating around cyberspace, I’d been fascinated with it. The pictures depicted yellow granite, tremendous vertical relief, and, of course, a dangerous pathway along vertical cliffs. The best guess that Robert, Michael, and I had about its location was South Korea. It wasn’t until a month or two after I’d arrived in China that I realized it was located just east of Xi’an. Somewhere around that time, I disovered a website for Huashan, stating it was “The Most Dangerous Tourist Hiking Trail in the World”. Over the past year, this website has received a lot of attention as the author demonstrates on his site. This website lays it on a bit thick (though it’s a great read); Huashan is perfectly safe and easy. In fact, I would even say that Huangshan is a scarier mountain. Most importantly, when hiking Huashan, you don’t need to take those crazy trails to get to any of the summits. Here, read on:

(above) Huashan as viewed from the North Peak. Actually, this is really just a point on the ridge. The true North Peak is much higher and flanked by steep yellow granite walls. The western peak, the highest point, can be seen in the haze in the distance on the right. The walls beneath the summit are well over 1000 feet high and vertical. To arrive at the East, West, and South summits, just follow the ridge in the foreground (follow the people too).

Li Zhen, of Yunnan fame, and I checked into our hotel in Xi’an (home of the famous Terracotta Warrior Army) around 9pm and went in search of food. Xi’an is an ancient walled city and we were staying within walls of the old city. The outskirts aren’t nearly as nice; the city has done a good job and improving the old city for tourists and it’s quite lovely and inviting. I was hellbent on finding some delicious rou jia mou, the closest thing I’ve seen in China to a barbeque sandwich. We found them along with some delicious cherry juice. A full meal of juice and two sandwiches runs about a dollar in Xi’an – much cheaper and tastier than Shenzhen (I was ruined upon returning back home).

(above) The night market, part of the Muslim quarter, in Xi’an.

We were up early the next day catching a taxi to the station where we’d catch a bus leading to Huashan. Taxis are cheap, the bus is cheap – under 5 bucks to take us all the way to the base of the mountain. The day was quite hazy and the granite ramparts of Huashan didn’t reveal themselves until we were in the village at the base. Here, we dined on more rou jia mou and some delicious egg and cilantro soup.

(above) Dang, this was a tasty and filling breakfast.

Hitching motorcycles, we rode the final distance to a temple that marked the start of the hiking trail. We were going to hike this mountain honestly; no cable cars for us.

Huashan (which does not mean “Flower Mountain”) is the tallest of China’s famous five Daoist Mountains. Apparently, many Daoists made their home here as is evidenced by the various cubby hole homes and small temples carved into the granited along the cliffs and ridges. During the civil war between the Communists and the Nationalists, a battle was also fought here. The Nationalists were defending the strategic mountain, but the Communists, despite heavy losses, were able to discover a secret trail, a dangerous trail, that led the army to the heights where they were able to wrest control. Apparently, this is depicted in a Chinese movie somewhere, one that I will definitely have to hunt down. Perhaps the trail they discovered was the plank trail…read on.

(above, l-r) 1) Homes and places of worship. Note the vertical staircase. 2) An old structure along the long trail up the valley. 3) The red ribbons are supposed to be lucky. Couples buy locks and have their names engraved on them, then lock them into place along the trail.

The start of the trail was anything but exciting. It’s a wide meandering road leading up a long valley. The haze started to thin a bit and some of the high peaks were visible in the distance. In fact, the tallest point, the western peak, is visible almost the entire way along the left side of the trail. The trail grew steeper and steeper and I anticipated getting to the dangerous part of the hike. Obviously, somewhere, we would have to start ascending very very steeply. Past another large temple, the stairs did start climbing abruptly up the granite. A long stair passage of about 60 degrees (not too bad, eh?) led to another small dwelling where vendors sold drinks, snacks, and even medallions, walking sticks, trekking poles (which I bought for my tent for about 9 bucks!), and even swords.

(above) 1) The first set of steep stairs, not nearly as bad as I was expecting. 2) A shot of this part of the trail from the western peak (the area labeled “steep stairs” is where I am in the first pic)

I was a little worried about Li Zhen’s physical ability to climb this mountain. Though I’d urged him to take a few trips up Nanshan, he didn’t. I’d paid my dues on Nanshan, and later a big payment on Huangshan, so I felt great. We’d decided to take turns carrying a single pack. As it turned out, I carried the pack for the entire ascent and most of the following day. That was OK since I needed to continue to get into shape. Despite my worries though, he did a great job at pushing through the next day.

Arriving at the ridge, where all the fun stuff really starts, was easier than I was anticipated. Although we’d already one a decent distance and elevation, it didn’t feel like much and there were good opportunities for breaks along the way. Also, the mountain wasn’t very crowded at all (I guess that’s one of the benefits of a three-day vacation and not the usual week-long national holiday). We hiked a good five minutes to the north peak, which was just beyond a hotel on the ridge. When I say “hotel”, don’t think some big Best Western perched up on the ridge. There are several hotels on the mountain. Each of the hotels on Huashan is quite small and has maybe 15 private rooms and a couple of bunk rooms; there’s much less space on this mountain than Huangshan.

We took a short rest (as evidenced in the picture above) and then started hiking the ridge. This part of the trail was quite crowded and we were hiking against the tide of people who were returning to catch the cable car, which was built down the other side of the ridge. At one point, we arrived at a short section of vertical stairs – one set for up, and the other for down. Unfortunately, both sets had been commandeered by the descending mob and we patiently waited our turn…for about two minutes. Realizing that we might be stuck here a while, I started climbing up the stairs, threading the people as I went. Some had no fear of the height, others were mortified. I arrived at the top without incident and saw the long line of people waiting to hop on the stairs. Glad we decided not to wait.

(above) Along the ridge, and the steep stairs

The ridge is festooned with structures and vendors selling all sorts of souveniers. Mobile salesmen peddle goods as well, others collect trash, sing songs or play Chinese flutes for money. As we approached “Green Dragon Ridge”, listening to the penatonic flute melodies, the exotic thrumming of the crowd, while gazing up at the steep granite walls of the western peak, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of magic and mysticism in this place.

(above) Green Dragon Ridge (so named because of the foliage, I believe), Me on the lower part of the ridge.

Beyond the “Green Dragon” section, the trail begins climbing steeply again, through “Golden Lock Pass”, which is a large gate that has thousands of couple’s locks dangling from the numerous chains. The “Pass” should be renamed to “Gate”, since there’s no real “pass” here. Parts of the trail climb through peaceful forest higher up and the trail begins branching off in various directions to visit the different peaks. We took the East – South – Western route, which I’d definitely recommend. I believe that direction is the most scenic, especially for the west peak.

Almost immediately after we took the leftmost branch leading to the east peak, we arrived at the “Phoenix Pavilion”, which is a great place to pitch a tent. It’s a large open area on a bluff with huge views into deep valleys to the east (a great place for the sunrise). We decided to continue on since there was still a couple of hours of sunlight. But, we vowed to return if we didn’t find a better spot. (We did in fact return after dinner via a middle trail which cuts past the “Central Peak”. Why they call it “Central Peak”, I have no idea. It’s not a peak; it’s a small knoll on the East Peak)

(above) Pleasant trail between the three high peaks. More steep stairs (I wish someone would take that metal staircase away).

Clouds had replaced the haze and were swirling around the high peaks which was good for both video and audio. The east peak was just about 15 minutes away from the Phoenix Pavilion and we stayed here for about 15-30 minutes. You can lie on your stomach here, looking over the edge which drops far down to the slopes below. We wandered further, alone, until we arrived at another hotel where we decided to have dinner, consisting of noodles, some fried rice, hot scrambled eggs, and some spicy pork. I did not realize how hungry I was and this meal, despite being pricey, hit the spot. I can’t complain about the price; must be quite a challenge to keep the restaurant supplied. We returned to Phoenix Pavilion and set up my Beta Light, which was difficult due having few good places to drive stakes into. The tent was a little shaky, but so long as the wind wasn’t too bad, we’d have no problems. The forecast did call for rain and the night before, on the bus from the airport to the city, we’d noticed lightning dancing across the sky. One of the guards on the mountain had warned us of lightning storms. My partner was a little nervous, but, having done this many many times, I consoled him and said that we could always run to a hotel or the little guard hut if we had to.

As soon as we turned off our headlamps and closed our eyes, the rain started. Then the thunder. Then flashes of lightning. As Li Zhen’s nervousness mounted, I tried determining if the storm was approaching us or just passing by. It was indeed approaching and when I saw the jostling light of the guard outside the tent, I knew we had to move. Dang! We took the steel staircase this time (I guess it was useful) in the rain, bypassed the eastern summit, and returned to the hotel where we’d eaten dinner. Apparently, this hotel was the nicest and, despite my protestations, forked over 400 RMB ($57!) for a hotel room. While we were waiting to watch the storm, we chatted with some students who didn’t quite have the budget we did; they were content to sleep in the shelter of the gateway to the hotel. The storm got closer and closer and the hotel eventually shut off their power. They even freaked out when I tried to start taking video of the storm. I found it astonishing about how paranoid they were. I had to shut off the camera. Less than a few minutes later, the ordered everyone to their rooms. Of course, not long after that, the storm passed, not close enough to us for an real excitement. We could have stayed in the tent, but, oh well, the room was comfortable enough and we slept well until the following morning which greeted us with more wispy clouds accentuating the peaks. The day only improved and we enjoyed plenty of clear views.

Today was the day that I was looking forward to: visiting all of those places I’d seen in pictures. The first place to visit was another pavilion situated out on a granite bluff. The trail left the backyard of our hotel but the gate had been locked the night before. I wandered up to the gate and asked what time it would be open. It was open now, they told me. They also said that we needed to pay 30 RMB for the chest harness and via ferrata system for climbing down to the pavilion. I believe these safety lines may have not existed as little as a year ago, but at least they bolster the courage of travelers who may be afraid to “free climb” the trail.

While I was waiting for Li Zhen to come, one of the tourists I talked to asked if they could have their picture with me. “Of course,” I said. Apparently, this had the effect on the rest of the crowd that I wasn’t the wild savage animal that they may have thought that I was and others started approaching with cameras as well. Before it was all over, I’d posed for about 20 or 25 pictures. And I’m now mad that I didn’t get any pictures myself.

Anyway, the descent to the pavilion is a little nervy despite the safety lines. It’s very hard to fall, since there are big handholds carved into the rock and there’s always a chain for you to grab, but it is a little awkward for your average tourist hiker. I think I was just as nervous as I would have been without it because the lines were fairly widely placed, so you’d at least get banged up for slipping. The trail descends vertically at an angle for about 75 feet before arriving at a ledge that leads to the pavilion. This would be a fantastic place to spend the night (just be sure to access it after dark when everyone goes in).

(above) 1) The pavilion as viewed from the hotel, 2) A view looking back on the east peak. Our hotel is the structure in the background. You can see the pavilion on the edge of the granite buttress on the right.

Our next stop was the deadly south peak and the famous cliffside pathway. Even I was becoming a little superstitions and, at a small hotel on the flanks of the south peak, I gave into a salesman. I bought a Huashan medallion and had my Chinese name and date carved into the back. OK, maybe I appeased something so I was now ready to see the cliffside path up close ‘n personal. We passed through a small stone gate to an outcropping where we could see some folks perched like flies to the side of the massive cliff. They were a good bit below us, which meant there must be some very steep stairs or ladders leading down to the path. OK, enough observing, let’s go do it!

A narrow exposed path protected by a low chain leads to a small area where you purchase a chest harness and two caribeaners on slings for 30 RMB. Immediately beyond, you climb straight down along iron bars fitted between a granite chimney with the practically bottomless void below you. This would be indeed very spicy without the chest harnesses.

Even though the descent is quite a thrill, it’s the famous boards that take the prize. They’re quite narrow, just over a foot wide and often loose in places. But, it’s the exposure that makes the heart flutter. It’s over a thousand feet absolutely straight down. The only time that I can recall exposure this sheer was climbing the Northeast Buttress of Slesse Mountain in British Columbia (especially looking over “Helicopter Ledge”). I made a very conscious effort to stand and take pictures while over the still rods that are supporting them.

Beyond the planks, the pathway becomes footholds again, which feels comforting after the planks. The trail climbs a short distance, maybe 20 feet, and the terrain relents. All together, the distance isn’t very long, maybe 150 horizontal feet. It seems hard for me to recall now, but it’s not a long way. I wasn’t sure how much longer this trail led, but it wasn’t far. Maybe 25 feet beyond was a quiet grassy platform. The area was surrounded by large trees which grew right on the edge of the precipice. Carved into the granite wall on the opposite side was another temple. Apparently, this remote spot was a place to come and contemplate. I suppose after making the trek to this spot many years ago without safety equipment was conducive to staying a while and meditating…and gathering up the courage to return.

(above) Nearing the end of the difficulties…but don’t forget you have to return this way.

(above) 1) The secluded grassy platform. 2) Inside the small temple.

(Rock climbing speculation here) I looked up and imagined how I’d get back if I didn’t have the planks. It looked like the featured cliff might go at, maybe, 5.8, but that’s an anomaly for the rest of the granite cliffs. I didn’t see too many good crack systems. This was mostly vegetated big wall territory of difficulties no easier than 5.12.

On the return, we paused again for many pictures and video. There were only four of us down here, and we perhaps had spent as many as 30 minutes enjoying this spot. A party of two Canadians were descending. At the base of the stairs, just before the planks, we peformed the crossover and then we headed up. Not far beyond this area, maybe a 15 minute walk at most, we arrived at the south summit, which is the highest summit of Huashan. There were many other folks here taking pictures. There was even a photographer with a printer run on a large car battery taking pictures for some of the tourists.

(above) On the summit of the south peak (check out my cool medallion), The Portable Photographer

The western, and final summit, was only another 20 minutes away. We paused for the famous view of the hotel on top:

To get to the true summit, we, as usual, had to pass through the courtyard of another hotel. There were swarms of people up here enjoying the views. We decided to drop down a bit down a foot path that led to a secluded perch above the high north wall of the western peak. From here, we looked straight down into the valley we’d climbed up. We were able to see our entire route up the mountain, including the initial steep stairs that lead up to the ridge. The entire ridge was in view; it was a fantastic vantage point.

We finished up the day by looping back to the main ridge on the western trail. All together, I believe we hit just about every trail up on the mountain. There isn’t as much trail distance on Huashan as Huangshan.

We decided to opt for speed and the health of our knees and took the cable car down to the base of the valley where the wind became quite strong. I wondered if it had also begun to blow heavily up on the ridge. Certainly the cable car ride was smooth. We caught a bus back down to the village where we had some more rou jia mou, of course, then finally caught a bus back to Xi’an.

(above) See the cable car?

The following day was the “appendix” of the trip. We had all day before we had to catch our 5pm flight back to Shenzhen. Even though we saw some cool sites, such as the Big Goose Pagoda (nearly one year to the day after seeing the “Small Goose Pavilion“), nothing in the city could compare to Huashan. OK, maybe the food could. Speaking of which, on the last day, I ordered a delicious lunch of semi-spicy, peanuty, cold noodles. This was probably the best food I had on the trip. The next time I visit one of the Xi’an restaurants in Shenzhen, I’ll ask for them…if I can remember the name. Hmm…it was something funny, oh yes: Ma Jiang Liang Pi. I think literally, it means: “Mazhong (as in the game, however it’s spelled in English) Cold Skin”. Bleeeh! OK, that makes no sense.

(above) Big Goose Pagoda. A Buddhist monk had this pagoda built back in the year 652 after returning from a multi-year trek to India. The monk, named Xuanzhang, brought back much Indian Buddhism influence with him in the form of “sutras”, which I believe are Buddhist manuscripts. He spent the final 19 years of his life dutifully translating these sutras in to Chinese.

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The Olympic Torch passed through Shenzhen on Thursday.   I failed to get a glimpse of it, having meetings strategically placed throughout the day.   That’s a pitiful excuse but that’s how it happened.

The Olympics are a huge deal in China.   There is a lot of national pride and unity on display here.   I saw part of the torch relay on TV at my office – each runner, dressed in red and white, would take it for a short distance, something like 200m then hand it off to the next relayer.   All the while, the torch bearers were followed by three assistants dressed in blue and white.   Behind them, on either side, was a small strike force of what I’m assuming were defenders dressed in yellow and black to protect the torch bearer.   There were maybe twenty of them.   At one point, I saw a small kid, maybe 5-7, run out on to the street who was quickly scooped up by one of the defenders and deposited…somewhere else.

A second time that I passed by the TV, the scene looked completely chaotic:   even though the torch bearer was still running as best they could, they were closely surrounded by hundreds of fans; the assistants and defenders were doing their best, but they were overwhelmed.   Fortunately, these fans were just enthusiastic, not troublemakers.   I believe that’s what you’re seeing in the first picture below.

There were several foreigners who participated in the relay, which was a display of China showing it’s openness to the world.   However, I did hear reports (twice removed so unconfirmed) that some foreign spectators were whisked away from the scene of the torch to prevent any potential “Free Tibet” moments.   I can’t say I blame them entirely, but that’s too bad if true.

(l-r) The torch is down there somewhere, I didn’t hear any reports about how long the trees were able to hold out.   I received these pictures from multiple sources. I’m not exactly sure who took the pictures, probably the local news station.

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During your visit to China, be sure to check out the famous Huang Shan, or “Yellow Mountain”. Huang Shan is the most famous of the five Daoist Mountains in China and is visited by thousands every year. It’s is reputed to be so beautiful that all other mountains will fail to satisfy the senses once one has gazed upon the valleys and spires of Huang Shan. The Huang Shan massif contains numerous summits and valleys all characterized by steep granite walls and twisted pine and bamboo groves. The mountain is often shrouded in mist and fog giving it a special beauty and mystery. You’ll feel as if you’re stepping backwards in time to a land of spirits and magic. Just watch out for the hoardes of people who are visiting just like you are.

This is no typical mountain climb by Western standards. The entire massif is threaded by concrete pathways and stairs, as is the norm for popular mountains in China. These passageways steeply climb peaks and plunge downward into valleys. This is not a hike for the feint of heart. Be comfortable with dizzying drops in all directions. The “Carp’s Backbone” is a great example: Just below the summit of Heavenly City Peak, is a narrow granite ridge, about forty feet long, with precipitous drops in both directions. Other sections cling to sheer faces of granite offering a passage that would otherwise be off limits to only elite rock climbers.

If you’re not in the best of shape, you can avoid many of the ups and downs by paying 80 RMB (about $11) for a one-way passage on a cable car. But, if you want to honestly climb the mountain, start at the bottom at the south gate where the stairs begin consistently climbing up to the high plateau where some hotels are located. This is the eastern route, the most efficient to get the top. The hike is not very thrilling and the stairs drag on for about three hours before arriving at the high plateau. Save the great views for the winding descent down the east side.

(above) There are three cable car systems on the mountain. Don’t be surprised to see porters carrying down dirty linens and garbage.

On the top’s north side, one can finally get some of the classic views of Huang Shan. There’s some form of legend around sunsets and sunrises on the mountain and they are never solitary. In fact, hundreds of guests have been known to line up and wait for many minutes to see one, even for a rather banal one. There is accomodation on top of the mountain; pick your style: tent or expensive hotel. However, I’d suggest being open to something different, though illegal: that of surreptitious commando in the style of Michael Stanton of the Cascades. This can easily be accomplished for the low-environmental-impact camper: Bring your sleeping back and bivy sack. Hike into the evening by headlamp (or, better yet, moonlight) and watch the crowds of hundreds vanish. Find a spot well away from any hotel (there are plenty of remote areas, especially on the eastern side), leave the trail and find a flat spot out of view. No one will bother you.

Yes, there were people in each one of those tents.

The real fun of Huang Shan is the winding descent down to the western gate. Be sure to visit the “Illusion” scenic area for superb views and thrilling pathways. However, be aware that the tourist map is deceptive. Although it looks like just a few twists and turns in the Illusion Scenic Area, it’s actually quite long (4-5 miles maybe) and includes a deep drop into a valley and an ascent back up to one of the prominent peaks. The path meanders past the “Cloud Dispersing Pavilion”, certainly one of the great viewpoints of the mountain area, especially for sunset. Beyond the pavilion, the excitement starts. The trail often is greatly exposed as it passes along vertical granite cliffs. Suddenly, the outrageous entrance fee of 200 RMB appears to be justified at the engineering required to place the miles of trails along this difficult terrain. Sometimes, they more often resemble a roller-coaster than a trail. One improvement that could be made is to have raised the railings a little bit to accomodate taller people so they resemble trip wires less and safety rails more.

(above l-r) 1) This frighteningly exposed section of twisting staircase begins the descent into the valley below. Here’s the view of the same staircase from below, zoomed in as far as I could.

Don’t be surprised by seeing more Koreans on the trail than Chinese. Aside from the language, you can tell them easily by their dress. Whereas the Chinese dress as if they were taking a hike down to the local restaurant, often dressed in slacks, buttons-down shirts, and even high-heels), Koreans take the hike much more seriously, dressing in neatly pressed synthetic North Face shirts and pants, new hiking boots, and clean adhesive sports gloves to maintain that extra grip on their new hiking poles. They’re quite excited to meet foreigners, always taking time to say, “Hello”, and make an attempt at asking where you’re from. They’ll always give you the “thumbs up” too.

(above) Along the way are quaint bridges and wind-sculpted pines

Storms and clouds frequently visit the mountain. While it’s not wise to go up to the high peaks in a storm, it can be rewarding to try to beat one and experience a high summit shrouded in clouds. The climb to the second highest summit, Heavenly City Peak, is exciting as the sun is setting and a storm is moving in. From a distance, the stairs will remind you of the winding stairs Cirith Ungol in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Two Towers. It can be a disheartening sight, but press on. One foot in front of the other. You will pass through caves, up more steps that are around 75 degrees steep, along the Carp’s Backbone, then finally to the tiny granite summit.

Wow, check out those crack systems. The one on the left is short, but it’s got Chinese characters next to it. The other summit has a very long splitter crack running up the left side (most of it is out of view in this pic) which meets the horizontal crack. Quite the hand traverse, eh?   OK, as an on-sight ranking, I’ll give it 5.10….d for how sustained it looks.

(above l-r) 1) The Stairs of Cirith Ungol, not leading to Shelob’s lair but the summit of Heavenly City Peak. 2) Endless stairs descending into the mist.

Movie coming!

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