...and there is a reason why I loved Taiwan.
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Yet another dip into the lunch basket of Taiwan bliss. This adventurous moment from times past is of a trip to Lishan (Hualien - HeHuan - Lishan - Yilan - Hualien) the long way around. On a wondrously warm and sunny morning I shouldered by pack, peered over my front gate to the neighbouring lanes, saw it was clear and puttered off into the abyss that is the backroads of Taiwan. Fumbling through traffic, watching it dwindle out until there was none left but me and my sun parched face, I entered the gorge - the official beginning of any trip to the mountains from Hualien. Leaving the ocean coast and salty spray of sand filled gusts, I became a spot on the road of sheer cliffs and rugged geology. Decidedly not making any waste of time, illuminated by hopes of new vistas and raw experience, I dashed through Taroko, through the village, past the steep climb that ends the gorge and begins the trek to HeHuan, and sheltered fears that I would not make it to my destination by days end. I had to make it.
Past HeHuan, through the tunnel, and on to new sights. New things. New. Not done before.
These are a scrambled array of pics from this journey, three days that took me many kilometers and fostered many memories. Alone on the road unknown - sharing lunch with yet-unknown road workers, sharing moments of steadfast immobility watching a gaggle of machinery clear an old rock slide, sharing time with myself.
The inescapable heat, the joyous draw of fresh water and respite from the sun. Delicately tasting water draping over million year old rock, each drop finding its place in time. Some finding its place on me, cooling my body.
Now in HeHuan (the most beautiful view to collaborate with a most calming meal). This is common HeHuan fodder - noodles, egg, peanuts and bamboo. HeHuan is the only place in Taiwan that sells dark beer, and glorious beer it is.
Before HeHuan, taking a break from the omnipresent curve and inclines in the road that wreak havoc on your muscles. The cracks in the road attest to past geological strain that curses (and created) Taiwan. The heat was immense, the sun was intense.
Another break, another view and attempt to capture the duality of landscape; behind me bare rock and cliff, infront clear valley and open sky.
Spider; to scale it is about the size of my opened hand. Perhaps a bit smaller, but about that size.
Past HeHuan, on to Lishan. The heat, the sun, the time all ganged up and took vengeance on me. Despite the heat, I was left without option as to block the sun. All I could use was a scarf (that was needed in the morning, ridiculous in the afternoon most days) to cover my exposed skin. It still did no good, for at this point the damage was done.
Roadside beauty - a ephemeral waterfall that cascades down the side of the cliff, over the road, and further down the continuing cliff. A kilometer below (to the rear of this picture) it reaches the main flow of a rive and becomes unrecognizable from the rest of the gorge flow.
A typical road through the mountains. Not too easy on a scooter sometimes.
A truck managing a similar road situation. They were actively clearing this landslide from weeks past.
A dorm room in TienHsiang; early on in the trip.
A bridge pause - deciding which way to go. Only one right way, only one wrong way. I chose the right way.
Bundles of cabbages being taken from the heart and hearth of the mountains to the outlier regions.
After climbing over a fence, through a crack in a wall and into an old temple, I cam upon this sign. On every door. Every window. Everything. Now I could make out a few characters, and could get the general idea, but not the whole idea. It recommends one to not be here and tells that the temple is condemned. Dangerously condemned. I spent a good hour plucking around the temple (on the third floor, no less) and was a little surprised to find out the true translation much later.
A beautiful view of a valley and farm.
Lishan at night. Every night, in the mountain villages like this one, the power goes out. A blackout to conserve and to basically survive some energy for the morning. I had the most peaceful moment at an elderly lady's store/home in the completeness of darkness and quietness, eating dinner and sipping (free) local peach liquor. Thoughts and meal lit only by candle light. The power is a tool here, not a necessity, not a requirement. Life lives without electricity.
From the condemned temple.
Mountains of Lishan. Nothing out there but the biology and geology of evolution and cosmic chance.
The way home: Back to the ocean and the trailing road serpenting its way from tip to tip of Taiwan. Describing a precarious route home, I followed it honestly and warmly.
The new temple, taking over from the condemned one of earlier pictures.
