to the top of the Yellow Mountains. Distance estimates vary between 9
- 11 miles, and the photo here (approaching the summit) is fairly
typical of the climb. Who knew that a staircase could go up for ten
miles? Yeah, this is about as butch as I ever feel. Butch and really
stinky.
After this experience, I have a renewed appreciation for the Red
Ribbon Riders on their 84-mile hill day, and perhaps also for Sam and
Frodo on the secret stairs. I kept hearing Gollum's raspy whisper in
my ear. The monkeys in the area could have been his stand-in.
Dad, you were right about the possibility of seeing them, and although
I didn't, signs warned in English not to "flirt the monkeys with food"
and not to "feed or play them."
Thankfully, at the top of the climb, instead of a ravenous spider,
I've met -- you guessed it! -- some unbelievably friendly people. I am
bunked in a hostel-like dormitory with vacationing families and
friends, appear to be the only Westerner in the area, and was in my
room for not five minutes when I was invited to dinner and to join one
of the families at the challenging hour of 3 a.m. for a hike to the
optimal vista for watching the sunrise. Of course I'm in! (I just hope
my legs will be too when I wake up.)
My RRR friends should know that my only trick to the ascent was
hydration: I think I drank 2.5 liters of water on the climb, although
it wouldn't surprise me a bit if I lost more than that. I looked a
little bit like a wet dog when I arrived at the top, especially
striking in its contrast with the incredible workers who make their
living carry yokes loaded with cargo or even passengers up and down
the stairs. They carry more, make it appear effortless, and don't even
seem to break a sweat.
Apart from the early start, tomorrow should be less physically taxing
and primarily downhill. But it may be taxing in other ways: after my
descent, I board an overnight bus to Wuhan (6 p.m to 10 a.m. --
ouch!), then catch another bus to Yichang (4 more hours) where I will
try to book passage on a river boat heading up the Yangtze. I'll have
to light a cigar when I'm finally standing on the prow of that ship
heading upriver...
I'm so hoping you took pictures of the signs warning not to "flirt the monkeys with food."
ReplyDeleteQuestions:
ReplyDeleteA) (Perhaps a bit morbid) Did you reach a point along the climb where you wondered, "What do I do if I can't make it all the way up before becoming too tired to continue?" Were there little respite huts or anything along the way? And if so, did they have little moss-covered stone carvings of panting dragons (or Westerners)?
B) Has anyone counted the stairs? What would your estimate be?
C) Does it snow there in winter? Because I like the sounds of a 10 mile tobaggon descent.
Sadly, I didn't capture the sign in a photo (although I am sure that a highly amusing photo album could be -- or has been -- filled with such signs, based just on what I've encountered).
ReplyDeleteI heard that the last 6.5 km of the Eastern Stairs have 20,000 steps, so doing the math, that would suggest a leg-numbing number like 46,000 for the entire stretch. (A good test of this estimate would be to calculate the average riser height that would result based on the total elevation change, which I don't know. There were a few spots where the uphill climb descended, crossing a saddle between peaks, but that was only a pittance compared to the total.)
Thankfully, there were lots and lots of places to stop along the way to rest, many that were quite lovely. The first stretch of the climb I was basically alone (it was through a separate park with its own entry fee). The latter part of the climb -- that last 6.5 km -- there were many other people, and we'd often be climbing together, or repeatedly leap-frogging each other on the climb, saying hello as we passed.
Yes it does snow in the winter, at least at the peak (I've seen snowy photos). As for tobaggonning, I would definitely want body armor and a parachute! There were stretches where the stairs were immediately next to an long, long drop (especially on the Western stairs I used to descend today), and the guardrails, where they exist at all, are pretty easy to get through...