Lisong Hot Spring

One awesome weekend we decided to do something special, I guess assuming that living the dream isn't special enough. Rumored as one of the most beautiful hot springs in Taiwan, Lisong Hot Spring is located about a four hour scooter ride to the south. After a hundred kilometers or so, the desired road cuts inland and remote and beautiful mountain tops can be seen. The logistics of the scooter trip determined a situation that some might call "unsafe". Dacota's fifty pound pack and two gallon water jug sat wedged between his seat and the steering column, where feet would normally go, and his feet hung over the side. I sat on back, forty pound pack on my back, holding on for dear life hoping to not fall over backwards. Scooters are pretty tiny after all, and balancing myself and my pack while we sped at 70 kph down a highway made for a long and painful trip, but absolutely worth it! As we drove south, the weather gradually became sunnier and temperatures warmed slightly. Tourists lined the highway taking pictures of flowers. 

We stopped to see what all the commotion was about

The majority of people here seem to take great pleasure as amateur photographers and laughed and smile as they frolicked through the fields.

We continued the drive with temperatures decreasing rapidly as we drove into the mountains. The directions taken off the internet were half-assed at best and we stopped twice to make sure we were on the right track. At one stop, it became apparent that no other towns existed before the hot springs, so we hoped to procure some vegetables to make dinner, no sense in carting around veggies for the duration of the trip since farming communities are so prevalent and are always selling their goods. This small farming town seemed an anomaly for it offered no market, yet we were fortune to be, forcefully, gifted cabbage by a rather aggressive shop owner. We had stopped to verify directions and she insisted we take some cabbage off her hands, but in a way offering no remorse. We gave in and took a head, but that wasn't enough, and she appeared offended that we did not take the whole lot. "They are too small," she claimed and we took another two heads to appease her. I wouldn't be writing about this unless it was weird. Seriously! Why did she get bent out of shape because we would only take a cabbage after insisting we didn't need any. But I digress.

Back on the road we drove another twenty minutes before I accidentally spotted the, near impossible to see, road we needed to turn down. Three miles away to the trail-head, we rumbled our overburdened beast down the broken pavement and gravel road towards our destination.

The trail-head far below

Nestled on a small bluff formally used for some type of food cultivation, a parking lot with vehicles informed us that we were not alone. We readied our bags and were about to begin the hike down when a group of hikers emerged onto the bluff and talked with us for a minute. They seemed thrilled that we were camping at the hot spring and told us to bring gloves. Questioning their meaning, one of the people pointed towards a small pile of gloves near the trail-head. Thick rebar posts about three feet tall lined the steep path and even thicker rope ran paralleled the trail  which was supported by hoops in the rebar. At this point in the narrative, I would either post a picture or describe the path. During the hike up, I took pictures of the route and thus will cover the path at a later point.

During the hike down, elderly folks, and older folks in general, slowly made their way up the steep mountain-side. Passing these people with our gear caused them to question us about our trip which resulted in all of them telling us to have a great time and to enjoy the solitude of a night in the mountains. What encouragement!

After the final rope repel down, we came upon the river but no hot springs were in sight. Two small beaches lines this section of the river and a few people were gathered at the close bank eating and talking. We decided to hike our stuff to the other beach where we assumed would be a nice campsite. As soon as we began crossing the river, we noticed something, the water was cold, like really cold, Oregon cold. Feet frozen after crossing the twenty foot (in width) river, we changed into soak gear and headed upstream where the hot spring was to be found. Getting to the hot spring could be quite difficult for those less fit, for not only were there a few trips, waist deep, into the water, but some cool rock climbing. None of these were intense, but would have easily stopped people with children from getting to the pools. How those elderly folks managed is a testament to their longevity. Finally the pools came into sight.

A far off shot of the pools

All the closer pictures of the pools didn't turn out very well. Bah! There was simply too much detail, too much temperature change, and my shaky hand. So I shall describe our the scenario. After the minor challenges presented thus far, we are standing on the opposite side of the river. A rope descends from this rocky outcropping into the swift moving water below, the pool depth at over five feet. We took off our clothes, well I did, after Dacota, tested the water's depth while attempting to cross with his shirt and sweatshirt, discovered that it was truly as deep as it looked.  So we swam to the other side of the river and began our soak, the hot water feeling like heaven after the ice bath immediately preceding. 

Hopefully this is shot is good enough

These springs are tiny, as you will see, and source from both a trickle and a shower of scalding water out of this rock face. The beauty beheld is best told by the pictures. 

A look at the southern most modified wall

Sitting in the north-most pool, I see this

A wider angle shot

My thoughts can be read on my face. This was worth every second of travel.

Gazing upwards

 And with night setting in, we headed back to our gear make camp. After we set up the tent, we began foraging for firewood, only to discover, that a much better campsite existed on a small landing as between rope systems up the opposite hill. We, once again, packed all of our shit across the river, up the thirty foot embankment, and set up shop. As I attempted to Macgyver a fire, Dacota was sent out to find the driest pieces of wood possible. This is a sub-tropic climate and the likelihood of starting a fire seemed minimal. But with temperatures moving south of fifty degrees it seemed mandatory to make the effort. Furthermore, it had begun to rain and a fire would make the night much better. After two close calls, I finally created a masterpiece which burned over the course of  six hours as we enjoyed the evening.

Proof of my manliness

 After dinner, stories, and a lecture by Alan Watts we turned in for the night.

Breakfast

 Photographed for the first time, the infamous Fan Tuan being fire heated. A cabbage and tomato soup was being made in the pot and it occurred to me, as it always occurs to me while camping, I didn't bring any salt. Not once, in all of my years camping, have I ever remembered this vital ingredient. Wars have been fought over this commodity for crying out-loud, it is important, yet slips my mind every time. But warm soup on a cold morning tastes just fine and we enjoyed our breakfast and headed down to the pools once again.

A few hours of solitude passed before people began show up. And wave upon wave of people descended towards us. Nice folks but after a while the pools became too crowded for us, probably because we were so spoiled from hours of quiet soaking. As we headed out, I took a picture of the pool, and the people, and the shot actually turned out.

Lisong Hot springs

 We packed up and headed uphill. Now is where I remind the reader that this path was lined with ropes and we needed gloves. The first third (bottom heading to the top) of the journey is done by rope. Some areas are steeper than others, but with heavy packs, at the end of the journey, I felt huge, like I could take on The Terminator, Rocky, The Rock, and Vin Diesel at the same time.

Dacota climbing out

This initial climb is really fun!

The next shot shows some really nice thigh action on my part.

Me climbing up the mountain in my swim trunks

 After this rope section ends, the long climb uphill begins. The mountain provides some awesome natural stairs along the way and we climbed through the various beautiful forest strata.

Natural root stairs

 After reaching the bluff, we took a few pictures.

Shot from the bluff

 I continue to attempt one serene shot of the trip. One that can act as a photographic synopsis of the voyage.

Somehow this next shot combines the famous NWA, KRS-One, and Ice-T songs into its hysterical Taiwanese counter-part. (I will be presenting a blog about the police here because they are radically different from the meat-heads back home)

Cops parked next to our whip, and we weren't worried about getting arrested

The steep climb to reach the main road would be too much for us and our baggage. So Dacota took the gear up while I hiked out to meet him.

The champion of a scooter

Perhaps it was fortunate that I hiked out because I gave me the ability to observe two different monkey families in the trees.

Heading down the mountain, I snapped some really cool pictures which are not featured.

After an hour of riding we arrived in Chishang and stopped for lunch. At the lunch spot, a super old man began talking with Dacota until eventually quiesced by the proprietress of the shop who joined in the conversation. Even if this man was telling his stories in English, I highly doubt he would have made more sense, but he was really kind. The lady gave us all sorts of town history and directed us to the scenic parts of town. So, with sun still shining, we followed after the tourists.

Rice farmers working their fields

Because we chose Palawan instead of Luzon for our upcoming trip, the famed rice terraces of the Philippines will be missed. So it only seemed fitting that these fields were seen in such short proximity to our pending voyage south. I've never before seen rice farmers in person and it caused to me have an even greater appreciation for the hard work that goes into the tiny grain.

Tourists in the fields

With agricultural truck seen in the background, on the left hand side, this photo demonstrates the dichotomy found in this town. After some bizarre form of media exposure, this small town is now a destination spot for many people, hoping to capture that "one shot". Farming as usual continues and tourists insert themselves where they feel like. Do these farmers harbor animosity for these rich tourists as they snap pictures and get into areas that are obviously private property? Do they feel like they are an entertainment spectacle or that these invaders are worth some value besides distraction?

Rice fields 

This area of Taiwan is very reminiscent to the Willamette Valley, a valley of food production located between a coastal mountain range and an inland mountain range.

During out exploration, a contrived flower garden acted as a reception area for a rice factory / cultural learning center of sorts. Near there, the Hakka people's museum offered additional local history.

A new species of flower

 How could I possible resist?

Night approaching the valley

 And with this final shot, I hope the reader enjoyed this story because I surely enjoyed the adventure.