Tuesday, November 19, 2013

A New Sport Is Born – Off-Road Scootering




The brilliant autumn sun awoke me earlier than my preset alarm. Hot springs were on the menu today. Located in a protected park, and the closest springs to our home (some 40 minutes away), our adventure began after picking up a few Fan Tuan. Expecting this to be an easy day-hike, we forewent our purchase of betel nut. Perhaps vanity alone will keep me from consuming this tasty and useful drug. Although sun shone through early morning fog and low clouds, the temperature was uncomfortably cold and we sped along the highway wearing sweatshirts and rain jackets to cut the wind-chill. The mountains destined for are located southwest of Hualien and is the farthest south I've ever been thus far in my life, not only in Taiwan but also in the world. As is ever become typical of life in Taiwan, mountains covered in subtropic jungle jutted out of the ground in rapid accent creating poetic landscapes of lucid beauty.


Perhaps the constant description of Taiwan's environment is boring to the reader. Through repetition, I hope that I might be able to bring the reader slightly closer to true complexity of the diversity. If the reader is familiar to the PNW and its temperate rainforest, tree, plant, shrub, and mycology diversity, then perhaps the stretch of imagination and written description need just be skewed familiar species, temperature, soil, etc. To say that this lush alien subtropic world is more beautiful than the PNW is false; however, it stimulates my curiosity and imagination as much as, say, an individual from the Middle East being transported into the Mt. Hood or Olympic National Forests. The geology and biology upon this wonderful spinning globe is surreal.


Our drive through various small towns, including one where we had to circumvent the main road due to some family function closing off the street. All our trekking eventually landed us at the correct gate entrance. Tour bus' and vans cluttering the tiny parking lot. A quick conversation about permitting caused us to drive back to the closest town and attempt to persuade the police department to issue us a permit. Due to the limited amount of humans allowed in the protected wildness in a given day, we were declined and our plans of hot spring pleasure abruptly shit upon. Respecting the reason for visitor limitations, we decided not to jump the fence. Determined to not have our day ruined, we set off towards another destination, Wind Mountain.


The map, pulled up on an ipod touch, left details to be desired. Like, pretty much all of them. We knew that this place existed and that's about it. Driving in some general direction of the place, we took a few turns off the main road and ended up at a park of sorts. Thinking that a trail might exist to get us to our destination, we paid the two dollar entrance fee and headed in. Looking more like a garden, we walked around until finding the Visitor's Center. Delighted to see us, the staff changed the introduction/description video made for guests from Chinese to English and we watched the video, having no idea where we were, the function of the place, or if it would lead us to our mountain. As it turns out, this tourist attraction was a protected forest area by the forestry department and a living monument for the events that took place on the land. Spanning hundreds of hectares, the mountains around us were heavily logged only 30 years previous. The video detailed the train systems employed, the vast hoisting mechanisms with overhead cables that carried ancient trees off the mountains, and the (horrible) re-forestation efforts taken. Only logged for five years, the devastation to the land could be viewed to this day. The video showed that these small trains capable of carrying 40 tons (with a 50 hp engine!) traveled across the scariest bridges one could image, wooden and shaky over huge ravines, and the cable systems running hundreds of feet above the valleys, carrying huge beautiful trees for lumber. The replanting effort was a basic mono-crop and grid system which could be viewed from the lookouts that littered the hillside of the park. A very pro-government, “we did a great job”, attitude was prevalent throughout the video, obviously hoping that the viewer wasn't capable of seeing through the guise. Another key point, which I will return to later in this post, is that the tree industry catapulted Taiwan's economy into is first boom of the modern era. Just another country to exploit and destroying national resources, irreplaceable systems, to expand wealth and power. Compounding this recent exploitation, if one only reads the history of Taiwan s/he will be amazed at the similarity between it and every other colonized country. Kill off or convert the savage aboriginals, exploit the resources using slave labor, and continue to the next victim. No matter how different it feels to be in this new world, the history is the same. It is sadly the same.


We walked around the park, up hillsides to various lookouts, capturing pictures of frogs and plants, and realizing that there were no paths leading to our mountain, we circled around to the Visitor's Center to request directions. Three older women, all arguing about how we might continue, all giving different accounts and different directions and were of very little help, although they were sweet. We left still destined to find the mountain. I am happy though that we stopped. It was a great hour and half detour, to learn some new information, look at huge trains and transportation equipment, and financially support a forest reserve.


Once more, driving goal-ward, we stopped and solicited directions a few more times, each response different from the last, and not just because our relative position was changing. Our circling took us to flooded out roads and farmer's fields. Amazing. When a road gets flooded out, people just drive across it, usually in a 4x4. One stop for directions gave us the notion that there would be a waterfall along the way and so we began anew moving rapidly along the single lane road (what would be done if two vehicles intersected?) we crossed river after river on pitted and dilapidated bridges, viewing water-holes, rapids, man-made waterfall systems, and finally we came to a waterfall. We stopped and took pictures. It was a lovely fall with viewable shimmering cliff face and over hanging trees and vines. I wouldn't say that I am acclimating to waterfalls, but rather the sheer volume of these magnificent phenomena are spoiling me. What will happen to me when the closest fall is Multnomah Falls?!


By this time, the road had turned to dirt, gravel, and rock. The road continued up the mountain after the waterfall in ever increase slope. Up and up we went, engine whining in protest, unguarded perilous cliff drop-offs, wash outs, rock slides, trenches, mud, etc. A 4x4 lifted truck would have been extremely useful. Our scooter though, slowly charged up switchback after dirt switchback. At one point we were almost run off the road, and literally had to pull the scooter into a fortuitous grassy patch that so happened to have been there instead of a wall or drop-off. Filled with gravel, this truck plunged down the mountain. How this driver felt save driving some 15 tons down this ridge is another story. He was hard; no doubt about that. By the time we intersected him, we'd already passed a sign that either warned of danger or that this area was forbidden to enter. After miles of uphill climbing the slope became too steep for the scooter to make it. I'd estimate 60+ degrees. There were times before which were that steep but for a shorter duration resulting in me bailing and Dacota Fred Flintstone-ing up, engine screaming, standing up,his rice slippers digging into the hillside, and pushing the thing until it got enough traction to move on its own. Having reached the point where we could go no further, we parked the scooter on an outcropping, out of the “road”, and started hiking up the hillside switchbacks. On our walk, we looked at other mountains and noticed that they looked to have switchback paths also. We inferred this based on some stepped lines cutting into the forest, it was unique to see linear lines on a mountainside but it was too far to decidedly know for sure. Getting up those mountains will be another day's story. After a few miles up hill we came around a bend and found a gate and truck pulling out of the gated area. Surprised that we were up there, the driver of the truck came to meet us and asked why we were there. He explained that this was his job site and that it was extremely dangerous to be up there. He was in a relatively new Toyota 4x4 truck and offered to take us down the mountain. We declined because we had the scooter and started walking down. A brief discussion between the two of us decided we would go and ask the gate keeper if he would show us around and tell us what kind of business they ran. He saw us coming back and you could tell he was thinking, “Oh shit. What do these kids want?” The man obviously lived up there and his dog barked viciously upon our approach. Hailing him for a distance we asked our questions. It turns out that they produced gravel up here, dynamiting the hillsides, collecting the carnage, and transporting it downhill to be made into cement. He emphatically refused to show us around the compound because, besides being extremely dangerous, the man who originally told us to get lost was the boss and wouldn't take kindly to be disobeyed. Bidding farewell, losing our chance see the place and having lost time to find our intended mountain that was now lost amongst the other mountains, we started the treacherous ride down. During the exceptionally steep parts I walked down, and the other parts of the slope we slowly edged down, knuckles white with the strain from the brake levers. As luck would have it, the breaks had been recently replaced and the mission didn't end by us bailing off the stupid deep, unprotected drop-offs.


Our conversation down (because we had to talk instead of only focusing on not dying) conveyed that we both were appalled that they were destroying this mountain in order to make cement. Perhaps in 50 years time, when the mountain is gone, a reserve will implemented telling tourists of the time when a mountain existed. Once again, aggressively destroying irreplaceable systems in order to make a living. Not nefarious or immoral perhaps, just very, very sad.; another startling example of the human plague.


We made it down and decided to see if we could find a way up one of the other mountains. A few turns later, we found a bridge, and headed up another steep hill, amazingly it was actually paved. Pavement turned out as a double edge sword though. It allowed our scooter to make it up steeper climbs than before, which there were many, but also allowed moss to grow and leaves to accumulate. No matter how good your breaks are, if a film of slippery material doesn't allow proper contact or balancing, stopping and staying up are two tricky feats. We continued to climb and, to our amazement, continued seeing farms the further we went up. People actually lived up here. Great! This spurred our continued courage and egged us on. At one point, far past any farms, the road stopped and left us looking into several cut paths entering into the forest. Bamboo surrounded us and offered us sticks which we might swat the ground for snakes, hoping to detour them from striking. The sky was darkening and a good time for snakes to be out and about. I don't know why, but the idea of tree snakes like the Bamboo Viper freak me out. Perhaps it is because I am too busy looking down at the path instead of surveying the branches we are walking under to look for a green little snake that would hospitalize me. We followed this trail ever curious as to its purpose. During our hike, Dacota heard a rustling in the bushes. We stopped and looked around and noticed that we were not eight feet from a macaque. He was attempting to look dead. He didn't move, just sat supported on a tree branch. This is the closest I’d ever been a real primate. It was awesome and he was really cute! After pictures were taken we attempted to move off and unfortunately scared the little guy who dropped out of the tree and disappeared. Some while later we came to an abrupt end. The path simply ended; as if the person clearing it either found no need to continue or hadn't been able to finish it yet. Why did this path exist? Was it owned by someone who was simply checking out areas that might be farm-able? Was there some other hidden goal?


Our way back was quick and easy, no snakes and, unfortunately, no monkeys. During the areas that were entirely too slippery for us to both go down, I trekked down the hill and Dacota, again using the Flintstone tactic with feet down for balance and friction, managed to stay up. He didn't crash, which is more that I can say the unexperienced. Down a little ways we saw another path that looked driven on. It was extremely muddy and so we decided to explore it on foot. It was getting dark and the thought of slipping down this muddy path before having to continue down the hillside caused me to demand the hike. After a few miles, it became apparent that indeed this path was fairly well traveled by a vehicle. We crossed over a flooded part of the road and around one bend and came upon evidence of life. A small river passed through the road and on the other side, a campsite/structure? composed of tarps, boards, and metal. It looked inhabited. A rusty truck and scooter signified that it was indeed occupied. We would have explored it further yet fear of dogs stopped us. In the U.S. A campsite/living situation meant, to me, that some meth-heads were cooking or doing some sketchy business. The nicest part about this trip is that there are no tweekers in Taiwan. Why these people lived up here, so far up, across the river, is unknown to me, yet the simple fact they aren't attempting some Breaking Bad scenario was refreshing. On a few occasions in the U.S., I've come up to area in remote hillsides and seen some drug operations. I never saw anyone, nor was shot at, yet have heard plenty of stories from acquaintances who have experienced such a thing. These folks here in Taiwan, whatever there story, incited my curiosity and I would have been very excited to find out the answers to my questions. Are they just up here for solitude? To find personal peace and happiness? Or are they super poor and squatting on the land? Perhaps one day we will make it back up there and ask them. We stealthily left the area, returned to the scooter, and headed down hill. A few more stops of exploration took place yet none amounted to much. We headed back under the fall of night and devoured a meal of embarrassing proportion.


Besides for the crazy steep drops and 4x4 scootering, this Sunday was fairly relaxing. Lots of driving, lots of “break system workout” (yeah. They will need to be replaced soon-- already!), a few fun hikes, and even more curiosity about people and their amazing lives.

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