March 21, 2008

Tiger Leaping Gorge (CHINA)

And Then There Were Two... The First Day of Hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge in China's Yunnan Province

At 5:30 am this morning, I braced myself for the unpleasant and headed for the bathroom. I knew what was in store for me: an icy shower that would probably be my last for a few of days. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist "giving it a minute" in hope the water would magically warm up. Predictably, it did not.

Within the hour, I parted ways with the still-struggling David, writing down my entire itinerary with rendezvous points in case he decided against returning directly to Tokyo, and headed out into the crisp morning air with Neil. The only warm weather clothing I brought on this trip was an Arsenal soccer jersey that offered about as much protection as a "faith in the spirit of humanity" does in the warring areas of Afghanistan.

We walked out of Lijiang's old town, and hailed down the first taxi that passed along the road. It was a 20 minute drive to the newly constructed long-distance bus station where we bought two tickets for on a 9:00 am bus. Our plan was to hop off the bus in a town called Qiaotou, which is the unofficial starting point of one of Yunnan Province's more ambitious undertakings: trekking Tiger Leaping Gorge, which is 16km long and measures 3900m (2.4 miles) from the Jinsha River rapids to the peak of the surrounding Haba Shan mountains.

While waiting around in the lobby, I bought a cup of spicy ramen noodles (to warm up as much as anything) and began wondering if this trek was really such a good idea: there were half a dozen other foreigners in the waiting area, and all were dressed like they were preparing to climb Mt. Everest. Obviously, it would be cold at the higher elevation, but just how cold was a question that took on new gravity.

The two hour bus-ride turned into a four hour lesson in endurance as we dealt with repeated road closures and even a 45 minute traffic jam on what was no more than a one-way dirt road. There were construction trucks illegally (I presume) using the dirt-road in opposing directions, and with the queues behind each only growing, it was no surprise when our driver pulled his cap over his head to take a nap. I was in the front seat of the bus, which is always the most comfortable and always available because people never see it, listening to Neil's iPod on a one-song repeat of Akon's Smack That (a very bad habit of mine).

When we reached the turn-off for the trek we had to pay a 40rmb entrance fee, which was somewhat ridiculous considering this is not an official park. Instead, it is the local Chinese authorities realizing there is money to be made off people coming here, and who is going to stop them from charging people like me? The answer is no one, at least not in China.

Fortunately, there was a small guesthouse at the start of the trail that was being run by an Australian woman. After buying several Snickers bars "for energy when the going gets tough," I also enquired about renting a jacket. Fortunately, she took pity on me - she probably has a son of her own who is off doing something just as stupid elsewhere in the world - and loaned me her own jacket for only 10rmb ($1.50). I felt much better about my chances of surival (and enjoyment), and after leaving all my gear with her Neil and I set off on the trail with only a small daypack between us. The picture to the left shows the start of the "trail," which should give an idea of just how "official" and well-maintained everything was. Quite literally, the instructions offered by the Australian woman went something like the following:

"Pass by the small school up the road, and when you see mile marker number 194 turn left onto a dirt path. Follow it as best you can along the ridge, and there will be guest houses after roughly 4, 6, and 8 hours of trekking. Got it? Great! See you in a couple of days!"

After 30 minutes of up-hill hiking Neil began feeling the onset of altitude sickness, and we took a long break. Although it didn't appear to be a harsh case of AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness), he was clearly out of sorts. Neither one of us wanted to give up on the trek, so we lowered our targets for the day. Further, I carried all his things and we took a break every time he felt dizzy, which amounted to every 20 minutes or so. I wasn't too bothered by this turn of events because taking things slower gave me more of an opportunity to savor the breathtaking scenery - there were mountain peaks climbing into the clouds just across the gorge and the path itself snaked steadily along the mountainside.

After a couple hours of hiking we came across a small collection of shacks where, after returning a smile from a Chinese woman and exchanging a few pleasantries, she invited us over to rest. We were more than happy to take her up on this, and willing bought a couple bottles of water (most Chinese along the trail have learned it is useful to have things to sell.) After explaining that Neil was not feeling well, she brought us out Oolong tea and a plate of sunflower seeds as a token of kindness. Such generosity from a woman who has surely seen so little in her life was not lost on us, and we happily engaged her in conversation for the better part of an hour. Before leaving, we emptied a few packets of my Nescafe Instant Coffee (a necessary traveling tool) into hot water and used the caffeine boost to push onward.

We reached the Naxi Family Guesthouse at around 2:30 pm, and stopped here to have lunch with several other trekkers. There were a group of university students on vacation from Hong Kong, as well as a lone Finish hiker who ate with us. The guesthouse owner, who was a kind Chinese woman from the Naxi minority group, explained that this is the low-season for travel along the gorge. While only a dozen people passed by today, in the peak summer months the trail often sees as many as a hundred daily hikers. Personally, I enjoy nature far more when I am (relatively) alone with it, so I definitely got lucky in terms of the timing of my visit. As far as food prices, they were slightly more than I would pay in a big city, but nothing too unreasonable - 10rmb for a plate of fried rice, 20rmb for diced chicken/chilies/peanuts, and 15rmb for fried vegetables.

The next leg of the journey was definitely the most taxing, and included the infamous 24 Bends. This is a section of the trail where one climbs at a nearly 35 degree angle for half a kilometer. At first I counted the bends, or turns, but I grew too weary at around 10. Besides, continuing my count would have been pointless: there were 2-3 times as many "bends" as advertised (probably with the knowledge that no one would continue up this path if they knew the more realistic name would have been the 75 Bends). Basically, Neil and I had to take a break after every 4 turns, meaning the entire climb took us about one hour.

At the top, there was one of the more rewarding views of the day -both of the gorge below and the mountains opposite - which was only fair considering all we had gone through. At this point, we began walking with an American lawyer from San Francisco who was taking a 3-month leave of absence from his firm so he could tour Southeast Asia. Although he found his many adventures remarkable - and he was eager to share all of them - I could only smile and mutter innocuous comments like, "wow!" or, "that's amazing!" I suppose this is what happens when you have traveled the region so extensively. Anyway, what is important about this guy (I have already forgotten his name) is that I drilled him on law school questions for the next quarter-of-an-hour.  What is of particular interest to me is the figure that roughly 5-15% of law graduates are picked up by "big-name" financial groups (think: Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, etc), and they usually come from the "big-name" schools. This is far more in-line with the kind of career path I want to take than working for a standard kill yourself until you make partner at the age of 50. Enough career stuff: I am the only one who cares about such things, and even I think of it out of necessity rather than interest.

By 6:00 pm we reached our destination for the day: the Tea Horse Guesthouse. It is just shy of the half-way point, but with Neil feeling sick it was nevertheless a real accomplishment to have made it this far. We sat out on the front porch, nursing a cup of hot tea, admiring the scenery just over the buildings (see below.) Obviously, after the tea I moved on to beer, and with a pot of coals at my feet to help keep me warm at the high altitude there could have been no better ending to the day...

Until I discovered my bed for the night had an heating blanket (which would prove infinitely handy the following morning.)