9/11/10 Pain…and off in the distance, pleasure

Space’s wake-up call in the morning was like the devil screaming at me while being jabbed with flaming pitchforks.  Last night had gone on a bit too long considering our planned early departure time.  The last gin and tonic which seemed like a good idea at the time was a big mistake.  But irresponsibility has its side benefits; if we hadn’t stayed out that late I wouldn’t have had a chance to take pictures of pigs being butchered in the night market and those two guys wouldn’t have been able to laugh with their families about the drunken guy taking photos of them butchering pigs.

When you’re running on empty, four hours sleep simply doesn’t cut it, but our destination was promising: He Huan Mountain, the highest point in Taroko National Park.  The plan was to drive up as high as we could and then hike to the summit.  An early departure would help us avoid the weekend traffic which could get intense.

We were almost out of the city when Space noticed that we were low on gas.  “We’ll fill up at the station right before Taroko” he said.  Famous last words.  Predictably, the station he had in mind was closed.  Hmmm, what to do?  The decision was to press on and fill up at a station mid-way up the mountain.  We had a third of a tank which should be enough.

As the Brits say: "Keep calm and carry on"

It seemed a shame to blast through the beauty of the gorge without stopping here and there to take in the scenery, but Space was adamant: no stops except for gas until we reached the top.  It was a long haul up the mountain roads and amid the beauty of our surroundings there was unspoken nervousness and worry.  The idiot light had illuminated on the dashboard as if to say “You’re fucked if you run out of gas on this mountain.”

We had climbed to an altitude where the air was cool and dry.  From the first crack of the window I heard it, a screeching noise that was our constant companion.  At first I thought there was something wrong with the car, but the sound didn’t change with our speed.  Twenty minutes later it was still there, surrounding us like the cosmic background radiation that surrounds the universe.  We took a quick bathroom break at a rest stop in the mountain that had a sign saying “Do Not Linger”.  Kind of like a rest stop with a sign that says “Leave Now!”  Upon hearing the screeching sound out in the open, Space declared it to be the mating call of the “Screeching Mountain Eel of Formosa” an often heard but rarely observed species.  A second possibility is that the screeching was from the flying insects that were all around us, but the Mountain Eel seemed to be the more logical and obvious source.

Screeching mountain eels of Formosa - video

The unenforced rules... lots of them.

A little further up the mountain we breathed a collective sigh of relief when we finally found the gas station.  As it turns out, the idiot light was more like a nagging mother than a real indication of danger, a nagging mother who constantly tells you to “be careful” about absolutely everything.  We still had 13 litres of fuel left.

On a table outside the gas station, bottles of the dreaded mijo were lined up.  They had a campy label with two guys in suits giving the “thumbs up”.  I was surprised to learn that the men were the President of Taiwan and another high profile politician.  I repeat, the President and his sidekick appear on the side of a bottle of alcohol giving the “thumbs up”.  Yet another Taiwanese “What The Fuck” moment.  Try as I might, I couldn’t picture Stephen Harper on the side of bottle of Alberta Premium Rye.

Alcoholism...two thumbs up!

As we continued to drive up the mountains there was a rapid change in scenery.  The tropical plants thinned out and were replaced by pine trees.  If you just looked at the trees you could easily think that you were in Canada.  The screeching insects had disappeared as well, perhaps due to the noticeably colder air.  3.5 hours after leaving the house, we reached our destination at the top of He Huan Mountain.  I stepped out of the car and put on a long shirt.  Even though it was cool the heat of the sun could be felt strongly because of the lack of clouds…we were above most of them.

At one of the scenic overviews we saw a guy playing his guitar…poorly.  “Oh Shit!” said Space.  “No matter where you go there’s gotta be a Jack fuckin’ Johnson trying to pick up chicks with his guitar.”

“More like Jerk Johnson” I said.  In this impressive setting, wouldn’t it have been great if people could just stand back and take it all in.  Amazingly, there were no vendors selling useless crap, and not a gift shop in sight.  We made a hasty retreat and began hiking up a trail to the summit which was about another 400 metres up the along a rocky crest.  The sign read: “No Entry… The trail is precipitous in places and dangerous”, but we ignored since the rules were rarely enforced anywhere in the country and if we fell and died, it wouldn’t matter anyways.

There were very few people on the trail; Space and I looked like renegades because we lacked the serious hiking equipment that everyone else seemed to be wearing.  T-shirts and shorts?  Where are your hiking poles?  Your knee pads?  Your hiking boots?  You westerners are nuts!

The air was thin and such a seemingly easy climb became very difficult.  I began to breathe heavily and feel slightly light headed. I knew that I had put on weight since my arrival, but I didn’t think that I had turned into a fat guy.  The sensation of walking along the ridge was strange.  Your sense of perspective plays with you: the ridge underneath your feet passes by as quickly as you walk while the distant scenery doesn’t move at all.  If I could bottle this sensation, I’d be a millionaire.

We reached the summit a short while later, a total height of 3416 metres.  We had passed by many people on the trail during our climb and we had the summit all to ourselves in complete peace and quiet for a while, just is and the sound of the wind.  The tourist traffic was far below and just like good children could be seen and not heard.  We didn’t linger long.  I could have stayed all day and taken it in, but thick clouds were beginning to roll in and getting down the mountain would be painfully slow if it started to rain.

I hadn’t descended more than 100 metres when I heard the menacing sounds of Taiwanese pop blasting at full volume from a guys hand held radio.  Up here?  He couldn’t be serious.  What the fuck is wrong with people!

Taiwanese Pop on He Huan Mountain

The clouds began to roll over me as I made my descent; the only other time I had been similarly enveloped in clouds I was in a tube with wings typically referred to as a plane.

The mountain had blown my mind in the most profound way.  It’s hard to describe and I don’t think that what I felt would necessarily be felt by others in the same situation.  I can picture someone climbing to the top, taking a photo with a disposable camera “click…zip, zip, zip, zip” and then leaving; the only purpose of their visit being to say “He Huan…been there.  With all that I took from this, the other approach can only be described as a shame.