From Jinshanling to Simatai
On Sunday, we geared up for another bout with the so-called “Great Wall of China.”
Having been to the Wall on five different occasions in three different places, I was prepared to accept the label “The OK Wall of China” or “Strategically Stupid Blunder of China” or even “The Great Tourist Trap of China” or something in a similar vein.
However, instead of the normal overcrowded tourist hot-spots with rail cars and toboggans (Mutianyu and Badaling), this time we’d be gunning for a time frame when most people would be heading home and/or preparing to start a new work week.
Our fervent belief was that this move would effectively kill most tourists and most local Chinese — leaving only the dedicated touts.
Faye chartered three “black taxis” driven by retired workers, who to supplement their pensions, take people around in their mid-80’s sedans for some extra cash. Visualize three gnarly old Chinese dudes who have been around the block more than once and seen some crazy crap while smoking a hard cigarette. Their camaraderie toward one another was extremely visible — they did this as something to do together rather to rake in the big dough from stupid tourists.
The plan was to be dropped off at a segment of the wall called Jinshanling and then be picked up 15 kilometers away the next morning at Simatai.
Our group consisted of about 10 people, so the number of cars was on the mark. Normally I prefer outings with 1-4 people, but crowd was the right mix of personality with no obnoxious brats to slow us down.
We dashed up to the park entrance to get our tickets before they closed down for the night, affirmed to the local authorities that despite the backpacks on our backs that we were not sleeping on the wall (otherwise, RMB100 more per person) and embarked on the trail.
And sure enough, our small group was alone. No parasitic tourist caravans, touts or beggars for as long as the eye could see.
Dusk was falling as we began our hard march. With the Russian and a retired Air Force Cadet testing my commitment to lead the vanguard, we climbed higher into the mountains. It turned out that the hardest part of the hike was the first half, contrary to what a couple of friends had told me.
(Leru, the our swing-dancing, fashion designing Russian, complained about being physically strained and worried about both dying and slowing the group down. So, ironically enough, she increased her pace and led the hike most of the way — consequently helping to speed up the real slowpokes. Russians, sheesh.)
The landscape was a stunning mixture of uniquely shaped Chinese mountains, forest and ancient rubble. We talked about how it would have been hundreds of years ago to be a torch-wielding watchman looking out for Mongolian hordes before I devolved the conversation into a debate about how awesome and profitable a “Great Wall Paintball Arena” would be.
By the time our light died, we were tired and soaked in sweat. The most logical choice for our camp was a ramshackled old guard tower so we quickly garrisoned it. After camp was setup, food injected into hungry mouths, hot dogs were roasted over open fires and a scorpion even stung Faye.
Her whimpers echoed hauntingly into the darkened night sky.
The weather held. The wind was gentle, and, much like all camp outs, I received my complimentary allotment of 60-90 minutes of quasi-unconsciousness before the sun gently caressed us awake us at a reasonable 3:45am in the bloody morning.
Certainly, the view at dawn is nothing sort of majestic with beams of sunlight accentuating colors and causing our surroundings to be generally beautiful and other descriptively bloated adjectives.
After a quick meal of granola bars and yogurt, we packed up our things and headed out into the roughest segment of the Wall (structurally speaking). In some places the Wall collapsed outright. This required us to detour on the mountain directly but wasn’t anything too rough or challenging.
Two hours and thousands of stairs later, we descended into a quaint little valley with a reservoir and a wooden suspension bridge that you had to pay RMB5 to pass. You will be thankful to know that I passed on any overused Monty Python references and paid my 5RMB and kept my eager mouth shut. The Chinese are adept at gouging you for every kuai you’re worth, but even at today’s miserable exchange rates that’s less than a dollar so ho hum.
Our black cab taxis were already gassed up and waiting for us.
So based on the experience I’ll upgrade the venue to the “Occasionally Impressive Wall of China” and recommend that if you visit any segment of it that you make a concerted effort to do an overnight hike to really get a genuine experience (whatever that is to you).
Evading tour guides, buses and throng of parasitic tourists is tricky to plan around, but it goes without saying that doing so can be chiefly rewarding.
June 12th, 2008 in Travel | 1 Comment »
