A Normal Winter Day With "The Twins"

A few days before this adventure, we'd set off south of town to gain access to a gated community requiring a permit. This exclusive area is a mix between forest preserve and hydroelectric dams. A day hiking and exploring the area yielded some promising places to explore further. During one fun hike, we found a cave leading back some fifty feet into the mountain before ending. Various infrastructure and machinery were in the cave, for purposes unknown. About 40 feet in, we looked up at the ceiling and illuminated dozens of jostling bats, unhappy to be woken up. We departed the cave and hiked and traced for another few hours. Leaving the area, we drove back along a different route attempting to find new places to visit. Dacota spotted an overgrown dirt road leading adjacent to the river and we decided to investigate. Upon reaching the end, we found another cave! We were so excited to explore it but didn't have time. Less than an hour remained before Dacota needed to teach and we were still over thirty minutes away from the city. With a solemn vow, we made a pact to return and go cave-diving. Today was that day.

(Please note that pictures can be enlarged if clicked.)
(Also, I want to give a  big "shout out" to my awesome older brother for gifting me the camera used to capture these moments. Thank you so much!)

Cave Entrance

We walked and walked, shining flashlights around us. The cave seemed "relatively" uniform in  height and width, with jagged and jutting rock ceiling and walls, we surmised that this place was man-made . There were no bats inside and the solid thumping of our feet against compact dirt caused muffled echos. There was no outside noise or light for some time and we continued pressing. Suddenly, walking around a corner, light cascaded towards us, oval crested and bright, even though the day was heavily overcast, cold, and hinted of rain. Cave no more, this three hundred plus feet tunnel under the mountain led to somewhere, but where? Hiking along an ever narrowing path, stairs clued us into the fact this was, in fact, regularly traversed. River bank along side us, we turned right and found infrastructure (dams and cement buildings of unknown purpose) in river mouth. Small diverter canals, high up along the riverside near where we stood, were overgrown with vegetation and were delapitated, yet lead to paths beyond. Awesome! Across the river, a distant rusting sign verified that this was indeed a trail-head. So we marched on!

Dacota disapproves of our tame trail

We hiked for roughly half a mile before coming upon a path leading down into the river. "What this?!?! the end of the path?" (to be read aloud as one would proclaim a Shakespearean quotation) It can't be! We forded the river to hopefully gain some vantage to where we might continue.

Halfway across the river I remember my mission. I quickly snap a picture of where we came from. Unfortunately the path we found after tracing fifty feet in the river turned out blurry.

The embankment was the end? Not even close! We hiked along the rocky terrain, moving steadily northward. A rough path lead us forward. Eventually we came upon a clearing to discover...

First pool and waterfall come across on this trek.

Although it might appear tame, the pressure from the incoming water would make for a natural resistance pool. You could easily swim indefinitely against the current, never gaining a foothold. Near the rocks in the back of the picture, the pool was incredibly deep. If winter ever ends, this will make a great swimming hole on hot days.

Was this the end though? All that "work" for one pool? We started scouring the bank, looking for paths. Low and behold, our path continues!

Dacota ascends.

No mere path, monkeys could be heard hooting at us and jumping away. Swaying branches and trees could be seen as the resultant of a fleeing cousin. Birds chirped, bushes rustled, and the beauty of the forest remains breathtaking.

A hand to gauge the thickness of the Timber Bamboo

As can be seen, the trail continued to become narrower, obviously less traversed.

Second major waterfall come across

Emerging from the forest to this definitely makes the day worth it!

Close up of me enjoying the view

But wait, there's more. This waterfall was only an aside, a simple end for those adventurous enough to make it past the first pool. Upriver there's more and we continue, ever vigilant, ever excited.

Third Major Waterfall

After a bend, a tributary flows into the main stream, combining forces and volume that composes the first waterfall photographed. 

Dacota, once again, leading the charge

One point I have yet to mention; it is slippery as hell up here! Moss and mold covered rocks cause once "firm" (I use this term figuratively) footing to digress into a slip-n-slide. This hike isn't extreme, compared to our normal level of sketchiness, but without the ability to retain footing, it became increasingly tough. Winter has finally hit Taiwan. Fifty with the day-time high of sixty degrees Fahrenheit might sound like a "warm day" for those battling ice and snow, yet trekking through streams, hiking soaked, muddy, and cold out of a mountain, only to mount a scooter and drive 50 MPH back to the city without heat, makes the relatively "warm" winter into shivering events. Furthermore, most of you have warm houses to return to. Indoor heating doesn't exist in most family dwellings in Taiwan because it isn't needed. Inverted, this is why most people in the upper PNW are without air conditioning. Currently, we are only a few degrees warmer than the record low in Hualien. For those that shout, "So where's global warming then?", climate change results in more extreme weather patterns. Hence, colder winters, hotter summers, more precipitation, etc.

Small drip into a serene pool

I've attempted to convey the transparency of the water. Perhaps this photo will better prove my claim to the reader.

Dacota waving to the world!

At this point, no conventional trial exists. Some time before, a bifurcated setup demanded a decision. We chose left (heading upstream), making right (up the mountainside) a future adventure.

Demonstrating the bouldering action of river-tracing

 As the "man behind the camera", the man documenting our progress, my action shots are missed. I can assure my readers though, that I looked way more bad-ass climbing these boulders. If one imagines the grace of a mountain goat and my rugged good looks, then an accurate mental construction is created.

Damn You Winter Rain!!!!!!!!!

Our adventure, lasting almost four hours now, has delivered us far up-stream. As the photograph proves, we are much closer to the mountain. With that proximity however, increases the chance for rain. Mountains compress clouds, causing rain, and/or condensation to be extracted by the mountains and turned into rivers that flow towards the sea. Hence why the water is significantly warmer than glacier run-offs and why rivers flow differently depending on the season. With the steady increase in rain fall, we once again are forced to turn back. Sometime in the future, we will, once again, return to the days where we make night escapes out of the mountains, darkness threatening to over take us. Perhaps, if our escape is impossible, my emergency kit will be unpacked and tales of jungle camping will scare all who care about us. Nocturnal snakes, spiders, centipedes, caterpillars, all dangerous, venomous, poisonous, and pervasive, all to be avoided while we huddle under the safety of some make-shift shelter. With no dry wood available in the lush, wet, sub-tropic jungle, our night will remain black and cold. Until that time, days like today will continue and safety will continue to out-weigh adventure; at least as much as can be expected from us.

An Alternative Path is Found

After traveling back down river for an hour, we found evidence of a previously unexplored jungle path. We surmise that it might hook up with the path we left unexplored below. Many branches and forks excited our passion and will be explored on another day. A path lead down to the river, and we took it. Back at the river, we returned on the path we traveled up on, walked through the tunnel, and arrived back at the starting point.

The tunnel moved steadily into the mountain, on the south side though, a small path lead elsewhere. Miles away from our days climax ,the rain subsided into brief sprinkles so we decided to explore further and headed along the path, sticks beating the ground before us to frighten away potential snakes.

Making First Contact

A skeleton came into view, as if a "Planet Of the Apes" scenario toppled human-kind into its dark history.

Rusted cables dangle, unused, unnecessary, unwanted

A bridge existed here at one point in history and the rotting corpse eerily dropped off. Memories and past potential haunted the structure. Its crumbling concrete foundation, pillars, and suspension cables tell of a time of  importance; forgotten and failing, this structure reflects our corporeal fears.

An alternative vantage

So completes our tale of this day. Untold is the story of our cafe visit which sported thirteen resident cats and two dogs ready for attention. One particular himalayan, and his stereotypical grumpy face, might have been the cutest cat of all time. Untold also is the twilight hike heading up another mountain, forced to terminate because of guard dogs preparing to attack us when approaching an  "illegal" camping structure/makeshift house. During adventures, these viscous, aggressive, protective animals are to be avoided as one might a snake or bear. Further untold tales of the day include dinner, night markets, speeding adolescents attempted homicide, our homicide, my thoughts on "Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man", and so much more. Life is fantastic when it can be fully lived!