The Mountaintop

When my alarm went off at 3:30am, the immediate thought that went through my mind was Crap! This sunrise had better be worth it! Right now, staying in bed sounded like the best option I could think of.

I got dressed, trying not to wake my roommates. They’d come back shortly after I’d showered last night and stayed up for a few hours watching game shows. Since they didn’t speak a word of English we didn’t interact much. I’d actually slept through most of the commotion they made in the night, and they fell asleep at some point without turning off the TV or lights.

When I got outside, it was really dark. I could hear voices out in the woods cackling and whispering, but I couldn’t see anyone. With the fog still blowing around, it was officially really creepy in a really awesome kind of way. I walked out from under the canopy and discovered it was sprinkling a little.

Crud! I realized I had left my umbrella in the Sherpa room last night when I’d transferred. Bummer.

I debated going inside to get my rain gear, but it wasn’t really raining hard enough to warrant that. And I wanted to get a good view on the peak so I decided to head out.

Lion’s Peak had won my vote for the morning Sunrise. It seemed to be the highest point I’d been at so far, and I knew I could get back there in the dark. At first I was using my cell phone for light, but as I got deeper in the woods, I shut it off so my eyes could adjust to the dark. It was really eerie walking alone in the night, but the mysterious ambiance of the mountain was even more incredible now than it had been in the day.

As I got up higher, I looked around to the other peaks. Freckles of flashlights flickered in the trees showing the trails of people climbing to the tops. When I got to the top of Lion’s Peak, it was already really crowded. According to my map, the rock at the top is called “sitting monkey”…but I’m not really seeing where that name comes from.

Looking out east, the sky was still dark. Over the next few minutes, light began to leak through the clouds and illuminate the mist. The silhouette of Beginning to Believe Peak came into view. More people kept showing up and pushing to get a glimpse of the rising the sun. I’d found a particular rock to stand on and once I got my balance, I staked my claim.

One family stood in front of me. The little boy who seemed to be about four or so sat on his father’s shoulders, playing with his hair and clinging tightly to his chin. The daughter meanwhile played with the camera taking pictures of every rock, tree, and person she saw.

There were definitely some hardcore photographers up there. They set up their cameras on tri-pods and covered them with plastic bags as protection from the rain. When people showed up with umbrellas, they would block the view and the photographers would have to reset to get their perfect frame set up all over again.

Gradually, the fog started to develop a pink hue. The mist had a silver glow about it and entire sky took on a bright and ethereal look. I put on my headphones to drown out the chaotic noise of people talking. When I hit shuffle on my “Travel” playlist, it immediately started playing Josh Groban’s “You Raise Me Up.” As the bagpipes played and he belted out the line, “you raise me up, so I can stand on mountains” the sunlight burst through the clouds and the whole horizon glowed bright and brilliant. It wasn’t the most colorful sunrise I’ve seen, but it did have a celestial look about it that was absolutely amazing.

Everyone cheered as they headed down off the mountain. I stayed behind and had a few people take pictures of me. One man pointed across the valley to a boulder which I realized…looked like a money sitting on a rock. Now I get it! I thought.

As I walked back to the hotel I felt awake and re-energized. I decided I would hike as far as I could by noon and then head to the Western Cable Car. That would give me my best bet of catching the 4:10 bus back to Shanghai…which would allow me to sleep in my own bed tonight. It did mean I wouldn’t see the caves, but I thought I could fit in just about everything else.

I packed up my stuff and headed out. As I walked through the halls, I saw that the door to my original room was open. This will be awkward, I thought. I walked up and tapped on the door frame. One of the Sherpa guys saw me and smiled. Instinctively, he walked over and grabbed my umbrella and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said. It was a cheap umbrella, but it was still nice to have as a backup.

Checking out with the concierge, I started walking back over towards the Cloud Dispelling Pavilion. On my way, I noticed a sign I hadn’t seen yesterday when I was following the police officer. It pointed up a staircase off to the side and said “to Purple Peak.”

Purple peak wasn’t on my map, but something about this climb was just beckoning me, so I headed up. It turned out to be the steepest set of stairs I had climbed so far, but the view at the top was breathtaking. In my head I joked it’s hard enough to breath up here without having your breath stolen by the beautiful scenery. But it was true. I could see a dam in the distance, as well as the south part of the North Sea (which is the name for the valley off the northern face of the mountain—called such because the mountain peaks that break through the clouds look like cresting waves on the sea.)

As I looked around at the crazy scenery—the jagged cliffs, the misty sky, the exotic trees and flowers—I thought to myself, who knew that hiking in the Jungle was exactly what I needed to clear my head. This trip really had been a blessing but I have to admit, it came about so ironically. When I left for China, I had never heard of Huangshan. The only reason I read about Huangshan was because I’d gotten sick after eating those berries John brought into work. The only reason I ever thought about going here was because I thought I’d be traveling with Luke and a hike sounded like an exciting idea…but really, had I not eaten that fruit and gone home sick that day from work, I probably never would have found this place in my book…the whole thing probably never would have come together…and yet it has absolutely been a highlight of my time in China so far.

 

The hike was steep going down. At the bottom, I ducked into another restaurant for their breakfast buffet. This one was only 68RMB, although none of the food was particularly good. I tried a little bit of everything, but wound up going back to stash up on rolls and scrambled eggs (which had some kind of red pepper cooked into them.) Again, it really wasn’t enough food for the amount of exercise I was doing, but it would have to work for now.

Outside, I bought two water bottles form one of the vendors. Checking my watch, I realized I had 4 and ½ hours until I needed to head for the cable car. Not wanting to waste anytime, I set off to finish my adventure.  

The Secret Garden

I walked around a little following the signs to my hotel. The entire summit was like a garden. There were large canopy trees overhead that looks like something out of the Serengeti. They kind resembled pine trees, but were short and flat rather than tall and pointed. The “needles” looked more like fur than true pine needles. Various signs in Chinese and English explained that the UN had chosen the Canopy tree from Huangshan as one of it’s symbols; the exact quote was, “these trees cover people just like the UN protects the people of the world.” (I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the canopy tree used by anything related to the UN, but it is a nice thought.)

Down a few steps, passed some yellow wild flowers, there was a small coy pond. I took a seat on a stone bench and snapped a few photos. That is when I looked up and saw a bright blue sky for the first time in almost a month. The color made me laugh. Shanghai gets blue sky from time to time, but it is more of a blue-ish, gray. This was a true blue sky, and the brilliant deep blue color—which I’ve seen thousands of times back home—looked fake and out of place.

This is definitely one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been, I thought. It might even rival Switzerland.

I found my hotel and got checked in. The building looked like some sort of blend between a temple and a castle. The inside was huge too. There were halls filled with shops selling perfume, liquor, and basic groceries. There was a café and a full service restaurant as well as a spa and health club. I was staying in one of the bunk rooms on the ground floor. It was a nice enough enough room with three, two tier bunk-beds, each with purple sheets. The bathroom was huge with a circular, glass shower in the middle of it.

I stowed my things under my bed and laid down for a few seconds. Once again, I started laughing. I did it!!! I thought! I really did it!

I didn’t want to waste anytime, so I took my fried rice from the hostel and went outside to eat it. It was some of the best fried rice I’ve ever had, but that could have just been because I was really hungry from hiking. As I ate, I saw Elder, Junior, and Grandfather walking by and they came over to say “hi.” Once they left and I started exploring.

The entire summit was a large network of paths that meandered through the jungle and up various cliff sides to the peaks. Various look out points were designated both on the map and on the trail with some of the best views. Small bridges spanned some of the canyons and ravines so people could walk out and get a better view.

It really was insanely beautiful. The twisted trees looked like something out of a Dr. Seuss illustration. As clouds blew across the summit, the mist seemed to swirl around me in all directions. It would cloak the cliff sides making them look ominous and majestic. It felt like something out of a fairy tale, but not in the royal prince and princess sense; this was more so the type of setting you’d expect to find a dragon or some sort of wizard’s lair. In fact, some of the larger trees were hollowed out and looked like the perfect place to house a few hobbits.

The Chinese/English signs did provide some information about the local botany. I read one that explained a particular tree was called a “blue dragon tree” because of it’s blue “leaves” scaley bark, and claw-like roots. I looked at the “leaves” and realized they were more like needles…the blue dragon tree was definitely a blue spruce….which seemed really out of place with all the ferns, grasses, flowers, and canopy trees.

The first peak I stopped had a name that translated to “Beginning to Believe Peak.” I crossed a small foot bridge over a little canyon to get it and then climbed up a boulder that had stairs carved into the side. From the top, it looked like heaven.  Clouds blew across my face and all around me the mist shrouded the views of the other peaks. As the fog changed, the view seemed to change with each passing minute. If there is magic in this world, I have to believe there is a bit of it on top of Huangshan…it’s that beautiful and mysterious.

Beginning to Believe was one of the lower peaks and as a result, not quite as crowded. I enjoyed the silence and breathed in the smells of the fresh air. It smelled so clean up here. The fragrant wild flower odors all blended together with the natural smells of dirt and nature. It felt relaxing. It felt like home.

I also felt like a celebrity. Everyone who joined me on the peak would take pictures of me. Some tried to be subtle while others were a bit more obvious. I practiced my Chinese, asking some of them if they’d like to take pictures together. One man was elated saying that his boss would be excited to see my photo, while another group of teenagers went nuts and told me they wanted to look like me someday. (I’ve never really considered myself to have an enviable physique…but I’ll take it!)

Walking over to Lion’s peak was a totally different experience. The plants seemed more tropical and the steps up to the top were crazy steep. There was a fork in the road at one point with a sign that gave four options…one to the nunnery, one to the cable car, and one to the terrace, and one to the peak. I kept climbing.

This peak was a lot more crowded. It was chaotic as people pushed and shoved to take photos. I noticed a small crevice in the rock and saw that down below, it led to a ledge that over looked the valley.

I wonder, I thought, if I get down there, will I be able to get back out. I figured I’d find out, so sitting down and hanging my legs over the edge, I wedged my feet against the two sides of the groove in the rock. Supporting myself on my arms, I shimmied down between the rocks to the small outcropping below.

The view was awesome. There was a single peak in the distance that looked like a rocky pillar sticking out of the clouds. A twisted tree sat on top, as the mist blew through its branches. Off to the right was Beginning to Believe peak, still covered in dancing fog. To the left, there was nothing. The clouds were thick as a soupy void. Even looking straight down, I seemed like I was standing on the edge of the world…as if just beyond that mountain pillar, nothing existed anymore.

I sat down and thought, How can this exist in the same world as Shanghai? Or even as China? Or even on the same planet I’ve grown up on? It is just so surreal looking.

And as I sat and watched as the mist blew in and the view morphed and changed in front of me, I thought about my trip so far. I thought about the questions my parents had asked me—did I like Europe better?—and how I felt about Shanghai. I think one of the differences is that I went into Europe terrified, not really sure if I could pull it off or what would happen once I got there. The excitement came in discovering how much I could do. China was a totally different experience; I went into it knowing I could do it, and in a lot of ways, it’s been very easy. I love all the people I’ve met—from the recruiting staff and the other interns, to my co-workers everyone has been so helpful and friendly. The culture is fascinating, and I’m really starting to understand some of the thought processes behind life in China.

And travelling is just plain fun. It’s exciting trying new food (although here it is occasionally terrifying) and seeing new places is awesome. There isn’t as much visible history here as there was in Europe, but the architecture is fascinating in its own way.

When I think about the things that have frustrated me, it’s actually a pretty short list. I don’t like humidity and it is unbelievably hot here. It is hard being so far from home, and the time difference makes Skyping a little bit harder. I also do not like bones in my meat (although they are starting to grow on me.) I have to chuckle a little bit…the list of frustrations really is pretty short and pretty uninteresting.

I looked out into the valley and thought about all of the cool experiences I’ve had in college. My freshmen year working for the Boy Scouts was truly unforgettable and has really shaped my thought process and approach as I’ve worked through my degree and thought about what I want to do in the future. After that, going to Europe was life changing as I realized how much I can do on my own, and how exciting different parts of the world can be. I’ve loved how my relationship with my parents has grown and changed. I’ve been blessed by some great work experiences at the SCUBA shop, the Study Abroad office, and most recently the BBB—and I have some co-workers I know are going to be lifelong friends. They say college is all about finding yourself and figuring out who you are…I can honestly say I’ve done that. While I still don’t know what I want to do next, I know who I am and who I want to be going forward.

All of a sudden I heard a voice. “Sir, are you okay.”

I looked up through the groove in the rock that I had climbed through to get down here.

“Yes,” I said and smiled. “I am okay!”

After all the adventures I’ve taken, all of the places I went that I didn’t know what I was doing, and all of the times I was scared to get on the plane, or the train, or the bus…I did it…it made me stronger…and I can honestly say…I am okay!

There was a lot more mountain to see, so I hoped up and climbed my way back up the crevice. I’ve never been much of a rock climber, and I was a little surprised at how naturally and easy it came to me.

My next stop was an area translated to “Cloud Dispelling Terrace.” It was a kilometer away, and I followed the signs passed more awesome views. This time, the path did seem a bit more forested. The sandy cobblestones kind of looked like the yellow brick road, and each crooked sign made me think of the Scarecrow’s line that “some people go that way…others go that way…and some go both ways.” But once again, the mist and the twisted trees felt more like the haunted forest than the fields of poppies.

I realized as I was hiking that I was doing a lot of down. Being a boy scout, I knew that meant I was going to be doing a lot of up on my way back to my hotel.

When I came to a courtyard of another hotel, it wasn’t obvious which direction I kept going. Asking one of the police officers—who looked like he was about twelve—he offered to take me to the terrace. We walked across a little street, up through a dark section of trail, passed another hotel, and to a fork in the road where he pointed the way. I thanked him and carried on.

This view was awesome as well. After seeing Beginning to Believe, Lion’s Peak, and now this, it’s going to be hard to decide where to watch that sunrise tomorrow morning. This site was definitely the most touristy one. There was a guy selling fake gold metals with the Huangshan National Park logo on the front. On the back, he was engraving them for people to take home bragging rights of having summited the mountain.

The true high point of the mountain is “Bright Top Peak.” It is the real “Summit” of Huangshan, and certainly the most famous. My book had said it was the best view, but for the sake of catching the sunrise, it was also supposed to be the most crowded. I decided I should go see it tonight and then I could skip it in the morning.

But as I started up the trail, I realized it was a 3 kilometer climb to the top. That would probably take an hour, which meant it would be an hour back here, and then maybe 20 minutes back to my hotel. It was already getting dark, and the bottom of my left foot feels bruised. I decided to call it an evening and head back to my hotel for dinner.

As I worked my way back, I saw two teenage girls pointing at me and whispering to each other. I smiled and them and they immediately blushed and giggled. On the inside, I did too. It’s a flattering feeling having everyone admire how you look. Their father however scolded them but they continued to watch me walk away.

Back the hotel, I went to my room. When I opened the door, I was surprised to find three of those little Sherpa dudes in the room watching the world cup. Feeling like Goldilocks, I realized one of them was in my bed.

I tried the stifle my look of surprise as I pulled my backpack out from under the bunk and through it onto the top bunk. Stowing my jacket inside of it, I went out to the restaurant down the hall.

When I walked in, the hostess informed that they had a buffet option. I asked how much it was and she said 140RMB (the most expensive price I’ve heard for a meal…anywhere!) I asked to see the menu and she led me to a table by the window. I sat down and she opened the menu to the dinner specials. Everything ranged in price from 80RMB to 130RMB (basically 10USD-15USD.) I flipped through several pages before spotting a way to beat the system. They had baozi rolls—little bread rolls with meat and vegetables inside—for 4RMB each. In Shanghai they are 1RMB each, but this was still the cheapest option I saw, so I ordered four.

The dining hall was quite nice with crystal chandeliers, fake gold plated walls, and wooden chairs with pink silk covers over them—which matched the pink silk table clothes. I stared out the window and again was just awestruck by the beauty of it all. It almost makes you emotional to look at it—it’s that pretty. As I waited for my food, I wished my family was there with me to see it.

The food was good, although not really enough. I paid and started walking back to my room. As I passed the health club, I stepped inside to look at their price lists for massages. The 60 minute massage was pretty expensive, but the 30 minute back massage was pretty reasonable—less than anything on that dinner menu at least. I pointed to it on the sheet and a masseuse led me back to her work station.

When we got there, she negotiated with me that she would do the full body massage for just a little more. It wasn’t as good a deal, but it sounded nice so I agreed. This whole thing however turned out to be a terrible idea. It turns out when you massage muscles that have been hiking all day, the muscles, in turn, hate you, and start to cramp up like crazy. It was the worst massage I ever got. When I was done and paid the woman asked for a tip. I gave her 30RMB, which she gawked was not enough…but it was honestly all that I had left in my pockets.

I felt a little jilted but it was still less than the money Luke owed me for his bus ticket and hotel reservation so I justified it as sort of breaking even by the time he pays me back. And my shoulders did feel a little better now.

When I got back to my room, I walked in to find the little Sherpa dudes sitting in their underwear, smoking and playing cards. They had some how managed to find some…”working women”…on top of the mountain who were supplying them with alcohol and looked dressed to provide additional services as the evening went on.

I pulled my pack off the top bunk and pretended to rummage through it. I hated to be “that guy” at the hostel who makes a scene at the front desk but…I was tired…I was sore…and I paid a lot of money to stay here…I was going to be that guy.

Going to the front desk I decided to play the asthma card. Pulling my inhaler out of my pocket, I said, “Hi, I have asthma and my roommates smoke. It makes me cough. Is there any way I could change rooms?”

“Change rooms?” the girl asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Are there non-smoking rooms?”

The lady who was checking in next to me turned and started translating what I had said. The girl behind the counter typed into the computer and said something back.

“A private room is 700RMB,” the lady said for me. “I think it is too expensive.”

“I think so too,” I said. The woman said something to the girl and the girl picked up the phone.

When she hung up, she gave me a business card with another room number on it. “This is another room,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said. I also thanked the lady who had translated. Going back to my room, I went to grab my pack. I went back to the front desk to return my key to the first room. They explained the new room did not have a key but the concierge took me back to let me in. This room was really in the bowels of the building but it was just as clean and totally Sherpa-free (not that I have anything against Sherpas…I’m just very anti-smoking.) It also had the odd feature of having the toilet in the shower—now that is a novel idea.

I needed to figure out my plan for tomorrow. I’m supposed to catch the bus back to Tunxi at 3:30, but I might skip the caves and go down a little earlier. I’m not too keen on hiking around the summit with my pack on, much less spelunking with it on. If I can get down earlier, I might even be able to get back to Shanghai tomorrow.

I do wish that I had more time here. It’d be nice to wander and spend a few nights at the different hotels, but for a quick trip, it is exhausting. I’m super tired and need to get some sleep for that sunrise. Besides, whatever happens, I have the ability to be flexible and make a great adventure out of it.

You'll Never Walk Alone

People do live on Huangshan, but it is sort of an odd set up. There aren’t really towns, so much as little…camps…along the trail, that specialize in…entrapping…tourists. Basically, people set up booths and sell everything from water and chocolate, to jewelry made of “rocks from Huangshan.” Anything a desperate and dehydrated tourist needs, they can find along the trail. At the summit, there is more resemblance to a town, including a bank, a post office, and various shops and hotels, but everyone who lives there, works there. These destinations—along with the little “shanty towns” along the trail” are the destinations that the little Sherpa dudes are carrying their wears to.

The little Sherpa dudes are kind of dangerous too, particularly when it comes to passing them on a flight of stairs. Generally speaking, they are very friendly, and many of them sing as they hike along.
They stop frequently to set down their loads and rest their shoulders, and that is the dangerous part. When they do, they often whip around without notice and their swinging goods can practically knock an unexpecting hiker off the trail. People sort of get in a rhythm and pass them in groups so they can see you coming out of their peripheral vision.

The most common places to stop along the trail are in these little tourist trap set ups. They are generally in flat areas with some sort of bench—or at least a lot of big rocks—to sit on. The first one I came to had a great view the stream and I walked out onto a ledge to get a picture of it.

When I did, I noticed two boys taking pictures. They were wearing matching flannel shirts and blue capris. They were definitely pretty young, but they looked like they were having fun. John had taught me to ask people if I could take their picture in Chinese. Testing the phrase out on these two young kids, the older one instantly got excited and said, “You want to take picture with us?”

I nodded. We traded off cameras as we posed with each other, and snapped group photos. An old man sitting nearby started laughing and I gathered he was travelling with the boys.

“Wo jiao Zach. Ni ne?” I said after all the photos had been taken. (Meaning “My name is Zach. What’s your’s?”)

The two boys looked at each other and then started pointing as if to give me directions. “No,” I said. “I meant my name is Zach. What are your’s?”

“Oh!” they smiled and told me their names. I didn’t really catch either of them, but I did my best to repeat them.

“Can we be friends Zach?” the elder boy asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Do you have WeChat?” WeChat is a social media app in China (also available outside of China) that is used pretty much in the same way the US uses Facebook. Since Facebook is banned here, WeChat is definitely the most popular social media platform. I had just set up an account on Friday so that I could stay in touch with my co-workers while I was out of town—especially if I got in a bind.

He pulled out his smartphone and opened his WeChat account. I typed in my username so he could request me as a friend. “When I get internet, I’ll add you,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. “Bye bye.” The two boys ran off joined the old man.

Well that was fun! I thought. It’s amazing how just one simple phrase can open a whole conversation. I waved to them as I continued hiking.

About 15 minutes later, there was another stopping point to look out at the famous temple rock. The temple rock is basically a big boulder perched on a little peak. The top of it is shaped like a circus tent and resembles the roof of a Buddhist temple. As I stopped to take pictures, I heard a voice say, “Hi Zach.”

It was the elder boy. I got them to take a picture of me with the rock while they explained that they were brothers hiking with their grandfather. They lived in Suzhou and were on holiday from school with their extended family. Their parents had to work, but their Aunts and Uncles were waiting at the top after taking the cable car up. After we were done taking more pictures, they continued on while I took a drink of water.

The trail really was pretty crowded with lots of families and lots of generations hiking along. Most of it was up, and all of the up was stairs. Occasionally there was a flat section but the higher we got the fewer and shorter they became.

Instead, as the hike got more intense, we saw people at various stands offering to carry people up the mountain. They had these woven basket chairs that were rigged to be balanced on the shoulders between two people. If you didn’t want the ride—which honestly looked terrifying—you could also enlist them to carry your gear for you.

Up one particularly steep flight of stairs, there was another little tourist stand selling fresh fruit. I admit it looked good, but I learned my lesson from the berries at work. The pavilion however was a nice touch to this particular rest area and I took a seat at a bench to eat some dried fruit. It tasted fantastic, and it took a bit of self-control not to eat it all right there. I also opened the trail mix which had kind of a soy sauce flavor to it. The combination of sweet fruit and salty chex really hit the spot.  

As I started hiking again, I saw the two brothers and their grandfather. They saw me and waved.

“Maybe you can hike with us?” the elder boy said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “My grandfather would like it.”

I didn’t know if that was true, but I thanked them and joined them.

Doing so turned out to be a great cultural experience. We stopped frequently to rest, which at first was frustrating, but I realized it gave me more time to take photos. Eventually, I figured out they were stopping frequently because they were afraid I was getting tired. As long as I insisted I was okay, they would keep going.

As we passed various people, Elder (which is the nickname I gave the older brother in my head) would announce to them that I was an American. I felt like I was being treated like royalty as if he was basically saying, “Out of the way! American coming through!” People would smile at me and try to say a few words in English.

When we did stop, Elder or Junior would always clear off a seat for me. Grandfather was always offering me water, which I declined and showed them that I had my own. Every time I took pictures they wanted to take pictures with me. Even Grandfather asked if he could take pictures with me.

It was all very flattering and very awkward at the same time. I remembered what Helen had told me about the cultural norm be to very welcoming to foreigners, but this seemed a little over the top.

But talking to Elder was interesting.

“How old are you?” I asked at one point when we had stopped to wait for Junior and Grandfather to catch up.

“Fifteen,” he said.

“And your brother?” I asked.

“He is three months younger than me.”

That didn’t completely make sense. I figured either the word brother or the word months must be off. Perhaps he was a cousin or perhaps he was three years younger.

His English was pretty good, although his grammar was quite difficult to understand. I think a lot of phrases were being translated literally from Chinese to English and the word order—or sometimes the word choice—didn’t exactly make sense. I tried to stick to topics that I figured were easy vocabulary to work with.

“What is your favorite subject in school?” I asked.

“Umm,” he said. “I don’t know how to say it.” He pulled out his phone which had Pleco (a translation app) on it. Typing something in he showed me the screen. It read: “Nuclear Physics.” Can't say I was a big fan of that when I was fifteen.

I also got the chance as we hiked to practice pretty much everything I knew how to say in Chinese. This included “Re” (which means “hot”…although I couldn’t actually form a sentence with it so I just said the word and acted out fanning myself with my hand) “Wo e le” (which means “I’m hungry) “Wo xihuan kaifei” (which means “I like coffee.”) I also could have ordered poached fish but the subject never came up.

Towards the top, the stairs got steeper and the elevation became more noticeable.

“I think you learn more from climbing a mountain than from reading in school,” Elder said.

I smiled. “I agree.” I was certainly learning a lot here…from language, to culture, to reminding myself how much fun traveling was.

At the top of another steep section we stopped for a break. Elder asked me, “Are you married?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not married.”

“Do you have girl friend?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t. Do you?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “I have seen her for three years. When will you get married?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think maybe 28 is a good age to get married.”

“Yes,” he said. “I think it is the most popular age to get married. Do you think American girls or Chinese girls are prettier?”

This conversation was kind of making me laugh in my head. Oh the joys of being 15 again I thought.

As we stopped for snacks, I offered Elder and Junior some of my trail mix. They thanked me, took the bag, and put it in their backpack. I was a little dumbfounded. That wasn’t what I had meant, but I didn’t want to be rude and ask for it back…at the same time, it was half of my food. Elder rushed over to grandfather and said something. Soon he returned and offered me some bread.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to piece together the exchange that had just occurred. I took a bite of the bread. The outside crust was all hairy. It tasted okay, but I’m pretty sure it was starting to mold. I wrapped it up and put it in my backpack for later.

With that, we climbed up the last flight of stairs. Breathing heavily, I wondered how many steps we’d just climbed. The elevation of the trailhead was 91meter (about 3,000feet) and the summit was 1,800meters (about 6,000feet.) I could feel my heart beating in my chest and my pulse in my calves was pounding away.

All of a sudden, there was music. I don’t mean that in a cliché way…there was literal party music from just a few meters away. We stepped up the last few steps and found ourselves at the “summit” (I use air quotes because it wasn’t the true summit, but rather the top where all of the peaks where networked together.) People were clapping and cheering for us while the speakers blared in celebration.

“This view,” Elder said, “with the misty mountain and pine tree is the symbol of Huangshan.” I recognized it from the hoodie down below. Elder offered to take a picture of me in front of it.

“It’s beautiful,” I said as I looked out at the peaks wrapped in cloud. And it really was.

“I’m sad,” Elder said.

“Why?” I asked.

“We have to go find our family at our hotel,” he said. With that, he took my hand and pulled me into a bug hug. Junior gave me a one armed hug and grandfather shook my hand and smiled.

“Thank you for letting me hike with you,” I said. “Tell your Grandfather thank you too,”

Elder translated and Grandfather smiled and waved. With that, we parted company. I had to laugh—for as nervous as I had been about climbing this mountain alone, I had never been alone. These kind people I’d never met had taken me in and not only looked out for me, but showed me a glimpse of their culture.

But now, I was on my own, and this mountaintop paradise was mine to explore.

Into the Jungle

I had a restless night’s sleep last night. I don’t know if it was because of the hard bed or the anticipation of the next couple of days but I woke up just about every hour on the hour. The sun comes up about 4:30 here, which normally wakes me up back in Shanghai. I rolled back over but woke up again about an hour later, just minutes before my alarm was set to go off at 5:30. I silenced it so it wouldn’t wake my roommates and got up to get dressed. Pulling on my khakis, a t-shirt, and my bright orange jacket, I sprayed myself once over with bug spray. My shoes were still soaking wet from the day before, but I wrestled my feet into them before taking my pack with me down to the dining room.

At the bottom of the stairs, I discovered the door to the main reception area was locked. There was a side door that led outside so I ducked through it and went to walk around the courtyard a little. The rain had stopped and it looked like it was going to be a nice enough day for me to actually hike up the mountain.

About 6:00, I went back in through the side door and saw a young kid come downstairs and open the door. He apparently was the chef and got me my breakfast. The French toast was different but really good. I think it was an attempt at stuffed French toast, but it looked more like a jelly sandwich made with French toast. Either way, it was good. He also brought me my fried rice in a to-go box which I stashed in my bag. I took my second Gatorade-type drink and drank it with my breakfast.

I checked out and got my deposit back. Going outside to the curb I waited for the bus. Just after 6:30, a little gold colored shuttle pulled up and the driver waved me on. It was packed and the only available seat was in the very last row in the back. I sat down between a couple and a man who appeared to be traveling alone. The man tried several times to strike up a conversation, and despite the numerous times I said, “Ting bu dong” (which means “I don’t understand”) or “I speak English” he continued to try and talk to me in Chinese.

I’m sure I was a bit of an anomaly as I was the only white face on the bus. There were two guides narrating our 30 minute drive to Tangkou over a crackling microphone and speaker system. The entire thing was in Chinese, so I sort of dozed off. The windows were fogged up anyway so there wasn’t much to see (which was once again, very disorienting.) The hairpin turns would wake me up, and eventually the lack of AC got hot enough that I took off my jacket.

When we arrived in town, everyone piled out of the bus. It was chilly, but not cold. The sky was overcast, but it still didn’t look like it was going to rain. The woman who had been narrating appeared to be corralling people, but I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be able to give me any useful information. I noticed she was pointing to a small tourist type store so I went ahead and headed inside. All of my books had said that this was the place to stock up on supplies as everything closer to the mountain got more expensive.

I still had a bag of trail mix and a bag of dried fruit. I’d polished off the Pringles and sports drinks, so I really needed water. Just inside the door, I found bottles of “Activated O₂” brand water. Picking up two, I looked around for rain gear, when I spotted a shiny yellow jacket hanging high up on the wall, I found a woman that appeared to be working there and pointed across the room at it. She called a colleague who led me over there.

This woman pulled out a red hoodie that had Huangshan on it, along with an embroidered image of a mountain a pine tree. I realized that hoodie had also been on display next to the jacket I wanted. Shaking my head, I pointed up at the yellow coat. The woman squinted her face and shook her head. I looked back up and realized the shiny material was not a waterproof jacket, but a glittery and lace covered coat for women.

I smiled and also shook my head. Vivi had taught me the word for rain but I wasn’t sure I remembered it.

“Yu?” I said and tugged on my coat. The woman smiled and nodded and led me over to a basket where they were selling raingear, she handed me a set and rang up my order with the two water bottles to 15RMB (about $2.50USD.)

Going outside, I opened my pack and stashed my stuff. The group that had been listening to the woman narrator was nowhere to be seen but I saw the man who had been narrating standing by the empty bus smoking a cigarette. The map I had from the hostel was in both English and Chinese Characters, so I walked up to him and pointed at the YunGu entrance I needed for the Eastern Route.

“You want to go here?” he said.

He spoke English!

“Yes,” I said.

“Cross that bridge,” he pointed to the pedestrian bridge that led across the main road.

“When do you come back?” he asked. “Today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“My bus leaves at 3:30,” he said. “Meet me here at 3:30.”

“3:30pm?” I confirmed.

“Yes,” he said. “Here, I give you my mobile number.” I put it in my phone and thanked him before heading up across the bridge.

On the other side was a line to buy tickets for the shuttle to the base of the mountain. When I got to the counter, I pointed to Yungu Temple on the map. The woman said, “nineteen.” I paid her and she gave me a ticket. Following the crowd into the bus station, I had to go through security with my pack. On the other side, there were three lines, each with Chinese and English signs overhead. I didn’t see one for Yungu Temple, but I say YunGuSi, so I followed that line. At the end, it led to an exit where a woman punched my ticket and escorted me onto a blue bus.

Taking a seat by the window, I tried to tune out the chaotic noise of my fellow passengers as we wound up the hill. My window was open just a little bit and the breeze felt fantastic. The views of the valley were also incredible as we drove up the hillside. There were bamboo trees and exotic looking ferns all along the road. This wasn’t the forest I was used to hiking in, but more like the jungle. Every time we took a hairpin turn, I could see the parade of blue buses behind us. I also noticed the police officers at each turn directing traffic.  

When the bus parked and we all piled off, I realized a large portion of my fellow passengers were part of a group tour. They all wore matching neon yellow fedoras with red ribbons around the brim. They headed down the hill while I stepped out of traffic to take a black foot bridge that led by a waterfall. At the bottom of the bridge was a very grand looking, round archway that said in Chinese and English “Entrance.”

There was an entrance fee to get into the park (between the bus ticket to Tangkou, the shuttle up, and the entrance fee, the Chinese really have this capitalism thing down) but I used my student ID to get a 50% discount. They checked my Student ID again when I presented my ticket to the ranger before opening the turnstile to let me in.

The initial entrance to the park was really nothing special. There was a patio area with some picnic tables for smoking. Smoking however was forbidden beyond the red line at the start of the trailhead. The trail itself was paved with sort of a cobblestone/granite formed into stairs and stretches of path. I was, however, instantly enchanted by the tropical canopy overhead.

I also noticed various workers carrying supplies up the mountain. They hang their supplies on either end of a boar which the balance on their shoulder blades like a scale. In my mind I call them “little Sherpa dudes” although I am sure that is not the politically correct term for them.

A steady stream ran along one side of the path and, as Pierre had mentioned, there were several pools and waterfalls for wading in. The cragged cliffs on the other side of the stream pulled in fog and mist that looked more and more mysterious the higher we climbed.

I listened to the tapping of my shoes on the stone path. The cadence of my feet played along with the joyful melody of the babbling creek and chirping sounds of birds overhead. A rustling breeze kept the harmony, while the laughter of other hikers rounded out the chorus.

There is a campfire story we tell in Boy Scouts that uses the line, “All the natural world around you shows you clearly your reflection.” As I looked around, those words suddenly tugged at my heart strings. Looking up at the green, branches overhead, I noticed a single sprout of red leaves sticking out. The contrast of color was beautiful. I’ve been in a lot of grand castles over the past 18 months, but this was nature’s palace…and it was amazing!

Huizhou Style

As I was journaling about my adventure on the bus, the door opened. A young kid walked in wearing rain gear that was dripping wet. Pulling off his hood, he said, “Hello.”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Zach.”

“Jacob,” he said. He was Caucasian and his accent sounded eastern European. “Where you are from?”

“The US,” I said. “And you?’

“Czech Republic,” he said.

I smiled. “I studied in the Czech Republic last year.”

“Really?” He said. “You are the first person like this I have been meeting.”

“I was at Vysoka Skola Economizke,” I said.

“Ah in Prague,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I studied in Prague for a year,” he said. He told me the name of the town he was from on the German border but I didn’t recognize it. We talked as he changed into dry clothes. I hadn’t really brought extra clothes, but as he set up a little drying rack, I decided to get out of my shorts and put on dry pants. When I pulled my khaki's from my suitcase, I realized I hadn’t worn them since coming to China. They still smelled like the fabric softener back home. Putting them to my face and inhaling a deep breath, I smiled before putting them on.

Jacob gave me the password to get on the WiFi before connecting himself to start planning his next trip. I texted my Mom that I had made it safely and made a quick post to Facebook before taking some time to read a little in my history book. The history of China was striking. It certainly was sinuous and complex, and a very different story than some of the museums in Shanghai have presented.

While I was reading, another guy came into the room. His name was Pierre and he was from France. His English was pretty broken but he was friendly (and also dripping wet, so he added his clothes to the collection of to-be-dried items.)

Around 6:00, I headed downstairs for dinner. The hostel was a little far from the city center so I decided to eat in. Their prices were a bit expensive (comparatively speaking—everything was still under $7USD) but it was worth the extra money to me not to have to walk in the rain. I took a seat by the window, forgetting that in China you generally order by the bar, pay first and then sit down. The man at the counter recognized my American mistake and brought me over a menu. I ordered roasted bamboo with rice before settling in to enjoy the view.

The dining room was quite nice, with wood paneled walls and red stringy curtains along the windows. The building was built in Huizhou style, which dates back to merchants in the Qing and Ming dynasties. Basically, the exterior of the building is white washed with a black decorative roof and a large exterior doorway. These houses were designed to show off opulence, while also keeping away thieves, preventing fires, and symbolically warning local boys to stay away from the merchant’s wife.

As I looked out the window at the rain splattering down in the grassy courtyard behind the hostel, I thought to myself, if this works, it will be one of the most bad-ass things I’ve ever done. I would never do something like this alone back home, but I guess that’s what makes it all the more exciting.

While I was waiting for my food, Pierre came over to join me.

“What brings you to China?” I asked him.

“For school,” he said. “We have project to travel alone for two months and write about it so,” he shrugged, “I choosed China. And you?”

I guess my answer was kind of the same. “I’m interning in Shanghai,” I said. “But it’s not for pay, it’s for a school project.”

“Very good,” he smiled.

“How long have you been in China?” I asked.

“For two weeks,” he said. “I start in Shanghai, then I go to Suzhou, and then I come here.”

“And how did you like Shanghai?” I asked.

His face contorted as he said, “For me it was not so nice. I am from the countryside in France and Shanghai was very loud and very dirty. Chinese people are very odd and I could not figure out the traffic or the subway. I did not like it so much, but that is just for me.”

“And what about Suzhou?” I asked.

“Is much quieter than Shanghai,” he said. “And I think the people are more friendly, but there is not really a city center or anything to do.”

“I’ve been there,” I said. “I was there last week. It is different than Shanghai, but there isn’t much to do there.”

“No,” he said. “Maybe some shopping or something but not much history or many cultural things to see.”

“Except the chicken feet,” I joked.

His eyes got big, “Yes!” He said. “They are very scary looking!”

“They are!” I agreed. “So have you been staying in hostels?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I also have tent with me but there is no good place to set it up. The towns are so big I have to go far to find a place, and it is very strange to set up a tent in the city center.” He laughed.

Pierre’s curry came out first and I told him to go ahead and eat while it was warm. Mine came out soon after and it tasted great! The bamboo was cooked with shredded pork and various spicy peppers. I really like the flavor of the bamboo (almost like an artichoke heart but not as rich) and the spicy taste of this dish was awesome!

“I do not like eating with those things,” Pierre said, pointing to my chopsticks.

“I’m getting so much better at them,” I said. I have to admit, I even kind of like eating with them. It isn’t particularly graceful, but it is convenient. And I really am getting pretty good at them. I still drop things from time to time, but so do the locals, and I don’t mess up nearly as often as I used to.

“I don’t like the bones in my mean,” I said. “I don’t mind the big ones like in chicken wings, but the little tiny ones bother me.”

“Yes!” he said. “Is very strange to westerners I think.”

It was funny to hear him say that. Even though there was an ocean between our countries, we were both westerners. Here in China, we had a lot in common. The things that were new and different were new and different to both of us. Our mindsets in approaching them were different, but we were now on the same playing field, facing the same challenges…an American and Frenchmen, both lost and confused in the East.

When I finished eating I went up to the front desk to ask about getting to Huangshan. The young girl who had checked me in pulled out a map.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “the bus leaves from in front of the hostel at 6:20. It will drop you off at the bus transfer depot in Tangkou. You take the shuttle to either trailhead,” she circled the trail head up the Western Route from Mercy Light Temple and up the Eastern Route from YunGu Cable Car. My plan was to go up the Eastern Route--which was half the length--and come down the Western Route (unless it was still raining, in which case I’d take the cable car up and down.)

“You can buy bus ticket from us fro 20RMB. For 40RMB you can get bus ticket, breakfast, and a lunch to take with you.”

“I’ll do the 40RMB,” I said.

She pulled out a menu, “Would you like American Breakfast with eggs and sausage, English breakfast with oatmeal, or French Breakfast with French toast?” I selected the French Toast.

“Would you like a cucumber and sausage sandwich or the fried rice for your lunch?” I went with the fried rice.

She wrote down my order while her father printed my ticket.

“And which hotel will you stay at on the top of the mountain?”

“Let me look,” I said, pulling out my iPod. “The Behai Hotel.”

She circled it on the map. “So you will go up the Eastern Route, it is 7 kilometers and will take about 3 hours. You can drop your bags at your hotel and then go to these peaks,” she circled the peaks on the map. “You can also go over to these loops in the canyon and then take the bridge down to the caves. Then you can come down the Western Route.”

“When is the last bus back to Tunxi from Tangkou?” I asked.

“4:30pm,” she said.

“I need to get back to Shanghai,” I said, realizing that my pronunciation of the city is changing. Most Americans pronounce it Shang-High, with an emphasis on the “a” as in “shane.” The correct pronunciation is more like Shong-Hi or Shung-Hi (not exactly but close-ish.) I don’t think I’m saying it correctly yet, but I have evolved away from the American pronunciation to something in-between that and the Chinese pronunciation.

She pulled out a sheet that had the bus schedule. The last bus back to Shanghai was at 4:10. I thanked her and told her I might need to buy that ticket as well, although it doesn’t look like going back on Monday will be possible.

With my ticket in hand, I went back over to the booth by the window. Pierre showed me the route he took up the Eastern Route, over to the caves, and then back down the Eastern Route. It was raining when he went so he didn’t spend the night. He did however get lost at the top which did not do much for my confidence.

“Did you go to the hot springs in Tangkou?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “But there are lots of little waterfalls along this path,” he pointed at the Eastern Route up. “So I just step off the trail, take of my clothes and swim around a little.”

“Skinny dipping in China,” I joked. “There’s a bold move.”

He laughed. “Yes. I waved to people and they just laughed at me.”

Pierre stayed downstairs to read while I went upstairs to get ready for bed. Jacob was booking train tickets. I sat on my bed and looked over the map, comparing it to the descriptions in my book. In my head, I created several different plans for several different scenarios—rain, crowds, nobody else on the mountain, etc.—and figured I’d just be flexible (which really is not one of my strong suits.)

I also texted John to let him know that the bus schedule did not look promising for returning to Shanghai Monday night. He told me to take Tuesday off and come back with lots of good stories we could use.

After taking a shower I did a little more journaling about the day. I have to say, I’m really glad I’m alone. It’s allowing me to meet some really cool people, to be flexible with my schedule, and to test myself to remember how much I am capable of doing.

This is either going to be an incredible adventure, or an absolute nightmare…but either way, I think it’ll make a great story!

Beyond the Rain

Before going to bed last night, I made a list of steps to be successful in this little venture. I am very nervous about trekking through the wilderness on my own, but I figured if I could visualize the different hurtles I had to figure out, it would be simpler for me to navigate.
1.       Get to bus station
2.       Find the right bus and get on
3.       Figure out which stop is Tunxi (the closest city to Huangshan) and get off
4.       Find my hostel
5.       Figure out how to buy a ticket back to Shanghai
6.       Get to the trail head for Huangshan
7.       Climb the mountain
8.       Find my hotel at the top
9.       Take pictures/see sunrise
10.   Climb down the mountain
11.   Catch bus back to Shanghai

Just 11 steps…that’s simple-ish…right?

When my alarm went off this morning at 7:00am, I was wide awake. Had I been a bit more organized, I probably would have packed last night. Since some of my laundry was still drying, I had gotten everything together but it wasn’t actually in my bag. Actually, a lot of it was still wet, so I took in the bathroom and dried it with the hair dryer.

As I did, that’s when I realized the white noise outside. I’m so used to the traffic that I don’t really
notice it anymore, but this sound wasn’t traffic. It was rain. I opened the bathroom window (the only window in the apartment that actually opens) and leaned out to see a monsoonal downpour flooding the city.

This was going to be fun!

I showered and packed up my laundry, deciding the wear the things that were still damp since they’d be getting wet anyway. My little umbrella is slowly breaking so I stopped by Family Mart on my way out to buy a bigger, sturdier one. I also grabbed a pastry for the road.

Now I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but the streets in Shanghai do not drain. Part of the reason for this is that they have sanitation workers who walk around sweeping the leaves and debris into the gutter. Beyond that, I also have not seen any drains in the streets or on the curbs. As a result, when it rains, everything floods. I was using my umbrella to try and mostly cover my backpack, but my face, chest, and legs were being pelted with rain. By the time I got to the subway, I was pretty wet.

To get to the south train station (which is where my bus left from) I took the 11 to Xinjiahui and transferred to the 1. When I got to the south station there were lots of signs to various departure points. Luckily there were also English signs with arrows that ready “To South Long Distance Bus Station.” Following those, I made my way through the underground tunnels—which were lit with black lights and sort of had a techno theme about them.

After snaking my way through the underground maze, I found a security checkpoint. Sliding my bag through the scanner and holding my arms up to be wanded, I cleared security and walked over to a large departure board. The entire thing was in Chinese—in fact I’m assuming it was a departure board, but there weren’t even any numbers on it. Heading up the escalator, I hoped that when I was up at ground level things would be a bit more obvious.

Initially they weren’t, so I stepped aside to get out of the flow of people. It seemed like a good time to eat my pastry so I pulled it out of my bag. It had the same little yellow flakes inside as the one I had bought my first week in town. As I bit into it, I realized they were flakes of coconut. I’m not coconut fan, but this was pretty good.

As finished it, I realized there was an information desk with the universal “i” sign over it. Walking over, I stood in line as everyone ahead of me appeared to be exchanging their tickets or changing seats. When I got to the front of the line, I handed the man my ticket and said, “Where do I go?”

He said, “Two.”

I looked at my ticket and found a 2 on it. In my head, I made note of the character ahead of the 2 (which sort of looked like a three sided box with an “x” through it) and figured this might be a useful one to remember for future trips.

“Thank you,” I said, and headed through the turnstile to the main waiting area. When I found the lounge for gate 2, it was packed. Once again, I was the only white face in sight and I could see several people staring at me.

Eventually, I found a seat and pulled out my phone to text my colleagues from work that I made it okay. As I watched the monitor over the turnstile by gate 2, I tired to figure out the system. There wasn’t any English and all of the announcements were in Chinese, but it appeared that buses boarded about 5 minutes before their departure. When it was time to board, the name of the city (in Chinese characters of course) along with the departure time flashed on the screen. It was currently 9:18, and my bus departed at 10:28.

As I waited for 10:28 to flash on the screen, I got a text back from Yu Cui. She told me she was proud that I found the station and added, “Have a good trip! Everything you meet, good or bad, is special experience for you. Go ahead to find China!  J”

It made me smile. She was absolutely right of course. Good or bad, this is going to be one of those memories I will have for the rest of my life. It’s time to get out there, have an adventure, and “find China!”

As the clock got closer and closer to my departure time, I showed the couple next to me my ticket. They looked at it and just said, “This is right place. 10:28.” I smiled and thanked them, even though none of that was new information for me. Their bus left before mine and when they were gone, two teenage girls took their place. I showed them my ticket and they just said, “Huangshan.” I nodded and smiled, and they did the same.

All of a sudden, about 10:20, the monitor went blank and stopped displaying times. A bunch of announcements were being made and a bunch of people were getting up to board buses.

I got up and walked over closer to the turnstile. Showing my ticket to another lady, she smiled and said, “Here.” I know I thought, but do I get to board now or...when?

A curly haired man came over and took my ticket. “Huangshan?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“Not yet,” he said. “Soon.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Xiexie.”

Just minutes later, there was another announcement. I heard the announcer say a bunch of words, one of which I clearly made out as “Huangshan.” I got in line and the man punched my ticket. Another kid who looked about my age, pointed and said, “the blue bus sir.” I thanked him and went to get on the blue bus.

The bus was a large, Greyhound style bus. The seats were laid out two on each side of the aisle. While the upholstery was falling apart and shredded, they were comfortable and reclined pretty far, with plenty of leg room in between. It was also air-conditioned, although I made a note that there was no bathroom in the back. Since I had both mine and Luke’s tickets, I could choose between seat 2 or seat 3. I decided to take 2 since it was in the front row and I could see out the windshield.

As I sat down, I smiled. I did it! I thought! Now I just have to figure out when and how to get off!

There were only about ten to fifteen people on the bus and most of us were in the front few rows. The driver looked to be about 20, although I’m sure he was actually older than that. He wore dark jeans and a green t-shirt that read “I Love marshino.” Before we left, he made a series of announcements in Chinese and went through to take a head count. When he got to me, he pointed to my seat belt and smiled as I fastened it.

The bus ride was six hours. Riding the bus was a totally unique experience. Not only were we hydroplaning frequently on the un-drained, flooding highways, but being in the front allowed me to see that the driver was texting most of the time he was driving. For the life of me, I cannot figure out who has the right of way in Chinese traffic. I’ve read that it is the smaller vehicle, but it appears to be whoever honks loud enough and gets there first. Our driver was honking like crazy. He’d honk to change lanes, he honked to tell people to get out of his way, and occasionally he honked when there was no one else on the road.

I must be becoming a more rugged traveler because despite the hydroplaning, texting, and honking, I slept for about the first two hours of the ride.

The bus stopped around noon at a truck stop for lunch. I had brought some snacks with me so I didn’t get anything, but I did go in to use the restroom. When I got back on the bus, I opened my pack to get my own food. Pringles are my favorite road trip snack. I remember a road trip my Mom and I took to Gunnison and Durango one time. We took Pringles and Redvines and ever since, I’ve packed the same menu when I drive long distance (although Redvines do not appear to be available in China…so much for being a world power.) I also had some dried fruit, trail mix, and Gatorade type drinks with me.

The rain seemed to stop while we were at the truck stop, but as soon as we kept driving, it picked up again. It was pouring so hard, it looked as if someone was dumping buckets on the windshield at a rate of two or three per second. The wipers could barely keep up with it. The bus didn’t appear to have a defroster on the windshield and the driver would occasionally stand up to wipe it off with a rag—while continuing to steer with the wheel between his knees.

It was very disorienting not being able to see out the windows. I tired reading a little out of my book on Chinese history but the swerving and honking made it a little hard to concentrate. Putting my book back in my bag, I decided to listen to music and sleep.

When the bus started making really sudden stops and quick turns, it became obvious that we were in some sort of town. The windows were so fogged we still couldn’t see out, but when the bus came to a stop and the driver stood up to make an announcement, everyone started to get off. I gathered my bag and followed them, but the driver stopped me. I handed him my ticket, and he motioned for me to stay on.

Getting back in my seat, he started the bus up again and drove around a corner. Putting it in park and motioning for me to follow him, we rain through the rain to a smaller shuttle bus. He motioned for me to get on. I saw on the side of the shuttle the word “Huangshan.”

This didn’t feel right to me. I shook my head and pulled out my iPod. I had the name of the hostel in Chinese characters. I showed it to him. He scrolled down and found a phone number. As he called it, other drivers and people began surrounding me. One guy patted my shoulder, almost like he was trying to comfort me or something. When my driver hung up and motioned for me to follow him.

I did and we got back on the bus. Interestingly, so did all of the other people who had be around me at the station. They started pulling out cigarettes and passing them around. As the bus pulled away, it all of a sudden felt very seedy. I still couldn’t see out the windows, but we drove a few blocks before the bus stopped on the curb. The driver pointed out the window down an ally. He smiled at me and kept pointing down the ally, so I got off. With that he drove away.

If I thought it was pouring in Shanghai, this rain was even worse. Even with my umbrella, I was soaking wet. My clothes were plastered to my body within seconds and the rain dripping off my hair and down my face was almost blinding. I have never been so wet without being physically underwater.

And while I was impressed by the curbside delivery, the directions I had to the hostel were from the bus station. Now I had no idea where I was. I pulled out my iPod again and tried to find that number he had seen, but I didn’t see it. In fact, I couldn’t even find the email with the name in Chinese. I wonder if it got deleted in the commotion at the station.

I stood in the rain and laughed. This certainly was an adventure. He’d pointed down the alley so I started walking down the alley, still searching on my iPod for the lost phone number. Eventually, I found it. It had somehow been moved to adifferent folder. Pulling out my cell I called the number.

“Ni hao,” a girl’s voice said.

“Hi,” I said. “My name is Zach. I have a reservation, and I’m in town, but I don’t know where I am.”

“From the bus station,” she said. “Walk along the big street. We are 500 meters down the big street.”

“Okay,” I said. That didn’t really help me anymore. “What is the big street called?”

She said the name but I couldn’t understand it over the sound of the rain.

“Okay,” I said. “And is the hostel a big building or a little building?” That would actually be helpful to know because there were only a few big buildings in sight.

“It is next to the Green Tea Hotel, which is a big building,” she said.

“Great!” I said. We said goodbye and hung up. I passed a few people and kept showing them the name on my iPod, they all stopped to look at it, but they all shrugged and walked away. I kept walking through the alley, which had a solid three or four inches of water running down it. There was so much water in my shoes I didn’t know if they’d ever dry in this humidity.

About halfway down the ally, there was a barrier made of bamboo. It definitely looked like it was supposed to keep people from continuing, but I really didn’t have many other viable options. Throwing my leg up, I hopped over it and kept sloshing through the alley.

At the end of the alley was a big building. I looked up through the rain and read the sign. It said, “Green Tea Hotel.” Walking to the edge of the building and peaking around the corner, a little temple looking building popped out of the side. I didn’t care if was the hostel or not, I was going to get out of the rain.

Stepping inside, I turned to shake off my umbrella on the step behind me. As I turned around, I heard a voice said, “Hello.”

I was totally disoriented as I wiped water off my face and pulled away from my eyes. There was a man and a young girl standing behind a counter. “Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for the Cozy Youth Hostel.”

“Yes,” the girl said. “Your passport?”

“Is this the hostel?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Great!” I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Digging my passport out of my pocket—it was also soaking wet—I handed it over to the girl. She recorded some information and handed it to me with my key, while informing me that they had upgraded my room to one with a private shower. I thanked her and went upstairs. When I got in the room, it was empty, but there were wet clothes drying everywhere. It smelled like a combination of mildew and body odor, but the room itself was actually pretty nice.

I sat down on the bed—which was a lot harder than I expected. Still dripping wet, I laid down and smiled.

I made it! I thought. I totally did it!