Yang-ming-shant

If CNN or the U.S. government asks my acquaintances for a comment as to why a 22-year old UCSD student is in a Taiwanese jail, tell them the Taipei meteorlogist deserved what was coming to him.

As far as I know, today was my last full free day, and I wanted to give Yangmingshan another go. I had looked at weather reports all week and last night, and it was all sunny, lacking even a possible shower warning. I intended on hiking whatever I could and getting some great pictures.

Too bad intentions don't actually make things happen.

Just like the first time, I went to Taipei Main Station and caught the 260 bus to the park. From there, I took the park shuttle bus (on which I stood squished like a sardine for 30 minutes) to one of the park stops, Xiaoyoukeng. Yangmingshan is a monstrous place, but one of the suggested touring routes was to go to the Xiaoyoukeng stop where the steepes possible hike was located (and seriously, would I want to attempt anything less?). Overcoming the hurdle of simply squeezing by everyone and getting off the bus (remember Newton's laws), I found myself at the visitors center not really knowing which way was which. The sky was looking ominous and I was considering just giving up and going back. I saw a sulfurous pit which is more than I had seen the first time, so I was going to tell myself that little victories were better than nothing and head back down to the safer and drier flats.

Stinky sulfur deposits at Xiaoyoukeng. See here for videos.

But honestly, who am I kidding? I'm just about as good at fooling myself into believing something I obviously don't as I am speaking fluent Chinese. After walking around a couple minutes, I saw the entrance to a trail and unsure where it went, decided to follow it (I could definitely envision scenarios where this is not an admirable or desirable trait). In my trekking I found out it was the trail I had previously been interested in, the hike to Mt. Cixing's main peak. It was quite the steep climb, but once I got my heart rate up, I was into it.

Exotic trees on my hike upwards.

These trees were something straight out of a landscape painting. It might be hard to see and at first look like nothing special, but after close examination, one realizes they have a really interesting shape.

With each step, I got more and more excited about the potential view, but it never came. Instead, I got random bouts of thunder (which I ignored because they were in the distance) and nothing but solid sheets of fog. Upon reaching the summit where other hikers were congregated, I read a few signs detailing the beauty of all below--only it didn't matter, because it was so foggy I could have been 12 feet or 1200 meters above sea level and I wouldn't have known the difference.

At the top of Mt. Cixing, or Seven Star Mountain, there stood a sign that boasted that it was the highest peak in Yangmingshan, standing at 1120 meters and giving a 360 degree panoramic view of the park. Hikers were supposed to be rewarded with 'landscapes of undulating mountains, basin, and a plateau low in the distance.'

What did I get?

I got to the top, and this was my view. What a reward.

Sitting on a rock and pondering whether to go back the way I came or take a chance and go forward to find an eventual exit, I heard another monstrous boom, the loudest yet. The large group of hikers looked at one another and laughed nervously, sharing in the collective fear that we were all going to be very screwed very soon. That fear was realized about 60 seconds later when the sky openend up, all of us situated on the highest point in Yangmingshan.

Proof that I made it.

To keep going or go back? Quite the dilemma.

Those who were clearly locals and paid weekly visits to the park had their ponchos out and umbrellas up in a matter of seconds. I, on the other hand, bitchy and poncho-less, reached into my bag to pull put my comparatively small umbrella. I had two options: I could either go back down the mountain the way I came, or keep going straight and eventually reach another visitor center in the park. I had no idea which one was longer, but I figured if I kept going, at least I'd get to see some new scenery. And by "see" I mean run past looking at the ground and crouching under my umbrella.

With every step I took, the clouds decided to hate me even more. One-third of a kilometer later, I reached the Mt. Cixing east peak, again supposedly exhibiting a stellar view on any other day but today. I continued downwards and eventually reached a fork in the trail. To the right was a flat-looking trail, but I wasn't sure where it went or how far, but it looked mellow. To the left was the continuation of mountains onward to Lengshuikeng, with steep stone steps and dark enclaves of foilage. Guess which one I chose.

Every time I reached a mini-summit or turned a corner, I got my hopes up. Like a slow kid who always thinks that the next time is when the coyote will finally catch the roadrunner, I was continuously sure that the next curve was the one that would eventually bring me to civilization. A few dozen bends later, I was finally right.

More stairs. This view reminded me of Lombard St. in San Francisco. For a video of my enduring misery, click here.

Alas, a parking lot! Civilization is near!

A sign I turned around to find as I exited. Gee, thanks for the heads-up.

By the time I reached the visitor center, I was utterly soaked. My pants had been falling down for I don't know how many miles because the bottoms were weighed down with water, but I had a hard time pulling them up because they were stuck to my skin. So after stopping every three minutes to readjust my clothes and wipe my face with my sleeves, I was a soaked mess upon arrival. Those who were arriving and hadn't been caught in nowheresville during the storm looked uopn me with a mixture of pity, curiosity, and disgust. Whatever. By now, I'm used to it.

I ordered a bowl of hot soup, which is a reflex I have when it's raining. However, it wasn't all that satisfying, because it was warm outside. My body was appreciative of the nourishment anyhow, and after squishing my way over to a table, I took a seat and ate slowly.

Upon finishing the bowl, I drug myself up to the bus stop, waiting for the bus to take me back to the main entrance of the park, where I would connect with another bus to take me back to Taipei Main Station. While searching for the appropriate place, I found a bus that went directly to the Jiantan MRT stop, the one used for Shilin Night Market. While it is four stops or so north of Taipei Main Station, catching this was way better than trying to find the other bus, so I exploited the opportunity. I got the last seat, and proceeded to freeze due to the air conditioning. After what seemed like hours later, I finally reached the MRT station, with the magnitide and frequency of thunder and lightning increasing all the way to our destination. It was about 3:15 when I arrived, and all the street lamps and headlights were on to counter the pitch black sky, which resembled 7 or 8 pm.

I finally arrived at Taipei Main Station, transferred to the Bannan Line to Kunyang, and got on yet another bus to get back to Academia Sinica. By this point I was a walking icicle, and all I could think of was getting out of my drenched clothes and into the shower. I had earlier considered the possibility of visiting Shilin again after the park, but given the turn of events, all bets were off. I unlocked the apartment, stripped off my clothes, and ran into the shower, which ended up turning into a bath. That was followed by changing into soccer pants and spreading out on my bed watching 3 ER episodes on my laptop, followed by a small nap, which I desperately needed.

When I awoke, Alice was preparing dinner, and I joined her and John for a mix of leftovers and freshly-made things, including a Taiwanese salad with rice noodles, pork, and green beans in a peanut sauce. Following dinner we ate some red bean cakes that someone had given Alice in her meeting today, and then I watched a little CNN before passing out.

It was a trying day, but to quote Marvin Gaye, there 'ain't no mountain high enough.'