We drove to the foot of the Guanyinshan and parked near the staircases that lead to the top of the Yinghanling, the destination for today. It was a spring morning, the weather was fine, with the air a bit chilly but the sun filtered through the leaves of the unknown trees. It was quite pleasant to be able to immerse our over-worked bodies in nature not so far away from Taipei.
We all knew that Yinghanling was not high. It was the peak of Guanyinshan Mountain with the elevation of less than 700 meters. The literary meaning of Yinhanling in Chinese is “Tough Guys’ Peak.” It is said that this site is used to train military police soldiers a few decades ago. But I could not feel the atmosphere of the past, with soldiers busy running since the path was so tranquil with shades of trees and occasional chirping of spring birds. Sometimes an eagle soared through the sky, spreading its shadow over the valleys and hills of the near-by hills.
We narrowed our eyes to spot the eagle but the bird was too adroit in the mountain wind and we lost tract of him among the trees and the dotted clouds.
This was a wonderful path to linger around. Not many hikers could be seen. We started slowly as we gradually ascended. The path was not still at all as one could imagine its steepness of the “though guy’s training spot.” It was quite relaxing to walk on the morning path to the contrary.
As the path went up, the valley could be seen lying still in the spring sun. A few cottages bathed themselves in the sunlight, and the Lingyun Temple, with its magnificent golden yellow colors and outstanding roofs and eaves, hit itself among the forests.
At the end of the path, there was a hanging ladder, which seemed to be the most challenging part of this hike. We grabbed the ladder and went up step by step. You could feel the wind from the valley blew on us; however, we did not need to feel scared since it was not Grand Canyon, and the hanging ladder was ‘merely’ ten meters high. We didn’t want to fall so we grabbed the ladder tightly until we got up to the end of the ladder, with a plateau which greeted us with well –trimmed trees and a path that zigzagged in the woods.
In the woods, a few visitors had picnics under the trees. This reminded me of Japanese sitting under Sakura trees having lunch boxes and plum wine. The family members talked and a few read newspapers while drinking hot tea. We passed them and went further to the woods. The path now is very flat; we must be on the top area of the Guanyinshan Mountain.
As we followed the sign that says “Observatory View of the Sunset” we walked passed a few cottages and fountains. I did not know why the cottages were built here. Maybe they were farmers or vendors’ houses? I peeked into the houses. I could feel that the people living here must have gone for a period of time. The noodle stands sat inside in the living room, with the cooking utensils neatly arranged on top of the cart and a few desks and chairs were folded being put against the wall. The sun fell from a sunglass on top of the roof and the fine dust could be seen spinning on the still moment of time in the shafts on the sunlight.
In the still moment of the spring day, what did the hiking tell us? Maybe hiking in the woods of Guanyinshan Mountain aimed to make us think of nothing but letting us totally free from the thoughts and worries that were abandoned in another dimension of the world.
We passed a cottage and spotted a swing and a tea table. We sat on the swing chairs and were excited like children. The creaky sounds of us swaying the swings accompanied our laugher. We were children. We were innocent children that came from the distant childhood to come to the mountains to feel the wind, to remember the red swing that had stood still in our hometown elementary campus. The sun shone into our eyes as we span high and our shadows were so tiny.
At the end of the path lay the observatory stand where one can see the Taiwan Straits in front. On the right, the Danshui River floated slowly like a silver belt sparkling, winding through the muted buildings and houses and unseen tourists and cars. The Yanmingshan Mountain stands behind the Danshui Town like a big giant protecting the township.
That is the Fisherman’s Warf. That is Danshui Old Street. Those are coffee house. Those are Forte San Domingo and the old banyan trees where fishers sling the fishing rods waiting as the tourists also sit on the shady roads viewing us, on top of the Guansinshan Mountain, across from the Danshui River. The river does not separate us. The clouds do not set us apart from the past and the future.
To the left, the Taipei Harbor lay still in the sun. A few boats navigated on the Taiwan Strait and the ocean was blue that day so azure that we could not tell where the sky met the ocean. We sat on the rails and took a few photos and we waited.
We waited to see the sun, gradually set on the Danshui part.
We could not forget the sunset, with its round shape gradually being engulfed by the mist near the horizon.
And the lights popped up from the towns and villages alike.
And the lights looked like a string of pearls on top of the Yanmingshan Mountain.
I forgot how we got back to the parking lot but I must remember in the darkness way back to the hanging rail, the wind picked up, and we could hear the birds cooing in the darkness.
But we went on, like two brave children.