More photos

New photos of the Tiger Leaping Gorge Trek =)

Airplanes on Runways

As the plane descends below the noble, white clouds, I peer out the window and spot a grey runway sliced in between two fields. Below me lies a country unknown. My heart skips a beat and I think to myself, “I must be the craziest person alive.” Suddenly fear, excitement, and my adventurous determination sink in all at once. I peek out the window again. The plane is just about to touch the ground when I spot something. On the runway parallel to ours is a man mounted on the strangest contraption. He’s riding a bicycle. In the middle of a runway in the Kunming International Airport in China there’s a man on a bicycle. I had heard the notorious stories of China’s wide embrace of bicycling to every destination, but of all places this was the last I’d imagine to find a bicycle.
As I step out of the plane, I immediately notice the difference between China and all the other Asian countries I’ve visited in my travels. China has an almost intimidating welcome and as one goes deeper into China; its vastness seems in no way comprehendible. After spending the night in Kunming, I board the 9am bus headed towards Lijiang (my final and permanent destination in China.) The ride is incredibly scenic. During the 9 hour bus ride I notice the various changes in the landscape and geography. Rice fields are dotted throughout the hillsides and the campesinos wearing their straw hats can be seen everywhere. We pass tiny villages, larger cities, tiny villages, larger cities. It can become monotonous. Yet, I’m filled with intrigue during the whole 9 hours and my eyes never stop scanning the landscape. As we arrive closer to Lijiang, I spot Jade Dragon Snow Mountain in the distance. This majestic 16,500 ft. glacier is simply astounding. I’ve never seen a mountain this big before and simply watching it stimulates inside of me a feeling of extreme inferiority. I snap a few photographs and remind myself to make it a priority to visit the mountain next week.

Lijiang is a city full of amazing and unexplainable beauty. I’m boarding in a cozy guesthouse in the southern part of the old town. Last night I had the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. It felt like home. The city itself has some amazing views and the narrow walkways in the town offer an almost spiritual experience of peace, calmness and aesthetic. As I walked through the cobblestone streets this morning, my heart felt like it was growing inside of me. In every direction there was something worth noting. The Naxi, (an indigenous minority) make up most of the population of Lijiang. In the morning you can see them walking down the narrow streets, some walk alone and others with their families. The Naxi are some of the most interesting people to observe. Music is an integral part of their culture and while walking I hear sounds coming from every direction; a man playing the bamboo flute, another strumming the Naxi guitar. These are all common yet beautiful sights to observe.

Above the old town is the Black Dragon Pool. Tagging along with the hoards of avid photographers I make my way towards the park entrance. The park offers a relaxed and laid back atmosphere. One can find themselves strolling through the various gardens and passageways without being aware of the passing time. In the middle of the pool are many small pavilions, most of them have been left in their original state since they were built (some are over 300 years old.) The pool serves as the main water source for the gushing waterways found in Lijiang’s canals. Towering over the pool, in the distance is Jade Dragon Snow Mountain (a massive mountain that’s over 16,500 ft. tall.)
I sit down on a bench and marvel at the beauty surrounding me. I never imagined that places this beautiful even existed. My mind turns towards God and I think about how he loves each of us so much that he created all of this beauty for our delight.

Tiger Leaping Gorge

As the bus comes to a jostling halt, the driver screams something in Chinese and the man in front of me says, “Qiaotou! You get off here.” I step out of the bus along with two Chinese tourists. Somehow, I’m supposed to find the trailhead to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. I walk around aimlessly for a few minutes until I follow a road that I think will lead me to the beginning of the hike. After about 3 minutes of walking, I find out that I was right. I pay the entrance fee at the ticket office then continue following the same road for about ½ a mile. Around a bend I spot a dirt road that shoots off towards the left. I follow my instinct and follow the dirt path. “This is the right,” I say to myself. The road starts ascending and with it my confidence is strengthened. The doubts of choosing the correct path begin to fade away. I look below me and see the Yangzi with all its power and might. For centuries, this mighty river has been the source of life for millions of Chinese. The trail continues ascending and gradually begins to narrow. It’s 2 pm and I should be approaching the first guesthouse pretty soon. I’d planned to spend the night there and continue with the trek in the morning. As I continue walking, my pace is slowed as I watch the majestic scenery around me. I stop every few minutes and snap some photographs. The Tiger Leaping Gorge is said to be one of the deepest in the world. Below me is the Yangzi River and towering above the river, reaching some 16,000 feet is Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.
I pass through many small Naxi villages. For many of these people their lives haven’t changed much in the past hundred years. Their lifestyles have remained static and although the rest of the country has modernized at an impressive rate, they seem to be stuck in the past. I walk past their humble homes and I begin to wish that my life were half as peaceful as theirs. I stop and take a photograph. As I sit down to rest, I look back at the trail I’ve crossed. In the distance I can see somebody walking. By the color of their skin, I could tell that they aren’t from the area. The blurred figure becomes more vivid and I begin to make out a shape of the hiker. It’s a girl and she seems to be walking quite hurriedly. Quickly, I rise to my feet, take a sip of water, strap on my bag and continue walking. “There’s no way, I’m going to let her pass me,” I tell myself. My pace quickens and this time I make fewer stops for photographs. After about 30 minutes of walking I come across the first sign for the guesthouse that I’ll be spending the night at. The sign reads; Mama Naxi’s Guesthouse, Hot Showers, Western Food, Hot/Cold Drinks; Stay with the nicest Naxi family in the area. Their advertisement sounds incredibly inviting at the moment. I’ve been walking for around 2 hours and my leg muscles have already started to ache. I begin my last ascension and in the distance I see a small village. I begin to imagine a wonderful, home cooked meal waiting for me so I speed up and follow the red arrows pointing towards Mama Naxi’s. I arrive sooner than I expected and sure enough, Mama Naxi has been waiting for me. “Sit down,” she says. “Have some rest, and some cold drink.” I smile, take off my pack, breathe in deeply and sit down. The hard, wooden chair seems more comfortable than the living room sofa back at home.
Lunch was completely satisfying. As I gobble down my fried rice with fried eggs and tomatoes, I struck up a conversation with a fellow American hiker. He’s originally from Florida but he’d spent the past 10 years traveling around the world. Taiwan was currently his home but he spoke of leaving soon because he was tired of Chinese women. His goal was to make it to Tibet and eventually into Nepal. China was just a stop along the road. I could see in his face the expression of a weathered, beaten traveler. He seemed like one of those dudes who can go for weeks without showering. I asked him why he traveled and he said that there was nothing holding him back. He had no girlfriend, no future job, and no worries. I thought to myself that at times he must get quite lonely at night. Speaking with him made me miss home even more. Just then, my fellow female hiker showed up. She ended up walking a lot slower than I expected. She waved a quick hello, grabbed some water and continued on. She hoped to make it to the halfway point by this evening. I was still debating weather or not I’d continue since it was still pretty early. Also, Mama Naxi’s was booked for the night and if I stayed I’d have to sleep in the local village school house. The latter became my primary motive for moving on. After this walk, I’d been looking forward to sleeping in a bed tonight. After paying for my meal and wishing the hippie traveler good luck, I continued on the trail.
It was 3:30 and I estimated that it would take around 3 hours of hiking to get to the next guesthouse. The most difficult part of the trail was yet to come. The notorious 28 bends were up ahead and I’d have to ascend around 1,000 ft. all the way to the top of the gorge. Eventually the trail became narrower and to my right was a precipitous drop of around 1,000 feet. I could make out the river down below. From a raging, thunderous beast it had turned into a thin, silent, white line which sliced between both valleys. In some spots I was practically hugging the rock wall on my left. But determined to reach my destination I carried on, praying silently to myself when I reached a really steep spot of the trail. No hiker was in sight and thoughts of the previous half a dozen hikers who had died on the trail began making their way into my mind. Quickly, I’d block them out with a song or a quicker trot. The 28 bends ended up being easier than I thought. I stopped for a break twice while I climbed them and when I finally reached the top I found a small thatched hut and a lady selling sweets and cold drinks. There was another Chinese man who was catching his breath and the same female hiker was there. “You made it!” she exclaimed. Exhausted, I sat down and started chewing on a fresh Asian pear. I found out that she was Dutch and she was just as surprised as I was at how short the 28 bend ascension had been. Her name is Chantel. We chatted for a bit and she told me that I looked like a Nepalese tour guide that she had met in Nepal. Automatically, I knew that she was another one of those quirky traveler types who had been to almost every exotic country and we shared the same avid passion for traveling. This meant we’d get along just fine. She continued onward and I lingered around for awhile, chewing on my pear and reveling at the beauty of my surroundings. After about ten minutes I figured it was time to move on, I still had about an hour or so to get to the Tea Horse Guesthouse. The rest of the hike was very nice. It was all downhill from here so I went slower than usual and took many photos. I figured I had time to lose. It was still early.
The Tea Horse Guesthouse was almost at the halfway point of the trek. It was 6:30, my muscles were aching and the sun had already begun to set. As I walked through the main courtyard, I spotted two Koreans and Chantel sitting around a wooden table. The table was surrounded by wooden stumps that served as seats. In the middle of the table was a pot of steaming tea and snacks were laid out for everyone. I took a seat, greeted everybody and poured myself a cup of green tea. Tea has become more common than water for me here. Both Korean’s were photographers. I envied their equipment. They carried with them two beautiful cameras, four professional lenses and one fish-eye lens. The Dutch girl talked a lot. Apparently, there were plenty of rooms available at the Tea Horse so I booked mine as fast as I could since I knew there were a couple of hikers behind me. After dumping my pack in my room, I went back to join the crowd. Our conversation covered many topics. The Chinese hiker I had seen at the top of the hill with Chantel had joined us. It turns out that he’s a lawyer. We talked about the pollution crisis of Beijing and he assured us that China is taking drastic measures in reducing their amount of pollution before the Olympic Games of 2008. Chantel mentioned Holland and how flat and boring it was. She kept commenting about the incredible scenery of The Tiger Leaping Gorge. We ordered food and ate together.
It was around our third or fourth pot of tea when our Chinese friend decided to call it a night. The sun had descended and the stars had begun to appear in the distance. Chantel and I continued with our conversation. She’s 22 years old and has been working as a school teacher for the past 2 years. She’d spent some time working in Spain and planned to return to Holland and continue her career there. I told her I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to study but I knew that whatever it was, it wouldn’t stop me from traveling. The stars were now vibrant. We spotted a few satellites in the sky and our conversation turned towards space, Religion and Tibet. She had just come back from visiting Tibet and she mentioned how their religion played an essential role in their life. In Tibet, She said, “you could walk down the street and see people literally praying in the middle of the street.” I thought that was amazing. Looking up at the sky, she stares at the stars for a while then says, “This is why I travel. It’s not about how many stamps are in my passport or the countries I’ve visited.
It’s moments like these, drinking hot tea and enjoying the pristine beauty of our planet.”
I nodded with agreement, took a sip from my mug and exhaled deeply.