
In 1983, China was still emerging from decades of isolation, and travel—even within the country—was far from convenient. There were no high-speed trains, limited flights, and most long-distance trips required multiple legs using trains and buses.
For travelers like myself setting off from Hong Kong, reaching Huangshan (Yellow Mountain) was itself an adventure. The most followed route:
-
By train: Cross the Lo Wu border into Shenzhen → Train to Guangzhou → Overnight train to Hefei合肥 (Anhui Province 安徽省) → Regional train or bus to Tunxi 屯溪, the gateway to Huangshan.
The area we now call Huangshan City 黃山市was known as Tunxi (屯溪) at the time. From there, travelers would take a local bus or hire transport to the mountain’s base.
Despite the lengthy, bumpy, and at times uncertain journey, there was a charm to it all. Without luxury or speed, we relied on patience, curiosity, and a love for discovery.
The Climb Begins: Old Paths, Ancient Stones
Our adventure truly began at the foot of Huangshan, where the only way up was on foot. There were no cable cars, no shortcuts, and very few tourists—just narrow stone paths laid centuries ago and the rustle of wind through ancient pines.
We began our ascent on the north (back) side of the mountain 后山 , starting from Yungu Temple (云谷寺). It was a full day’s climb through misty forests, climbing worn granite steps. The weather was perfect—cool but not cold, with light mist and a gentle breeze brushing the trees.
Along the way, we passed weathered porters carrying food, building supplies, and firewood up the mountain on their shoulders, balanced with long bamboo poles. Their strength was humbling. Without them, the mountain's lodging houses couldn’t operate.
Mid-Mountain Rest and Simple Living
We reached the mid-mountain lodging area by late afternoon. The accommodations were primitive—no baths, no proper washrooms, just simple wooden rooms and a hot meal of vegetables and rice.
There were no distractions—no TV, no shops, no nightlife. But there was stillness, clean air, and the soothing hum of nature. The simplicity was refreshing, even if we were sore and tired.
Magical Moment: The Rainbow in the Mist
One of the most unforgettable moments occurred the next morning as we continued the ascent. While crossing a small bridge overlooking a deep ditch, I happened to glance down—and paused in awe.
There in the mist, I saw my own shadow—head and shoulders—cast against the cloud, and encircled by a perfect rainbow halo. At first, I thought it was just me, but others saw their own “shadow rainbows” too.
This rare phenomenon is known as a Brocken spectre (佛光), caused by sunlight shining behind a person and reflecting through water droplets in the mist. It felt almost spiritual—as if the mountain was greeting us with a blessing. Though I took a few photos, I haven’t been able to find them. Still, the image is burned into memory.
The Sea of Clouds and Walking on Air
Pine trees clung to impossible cliffs. Towering granite peaks pierced through a rolling sea of clouds. In every direction, the mist danced across the sky. It felt like we were walking on air—a surreal and magical experience.
As sunset approached, the entire landscape turned gold, then pink, then purple. The famous Huangshan sea of clouds beneath us shimmered like waves, and we watched in silence as the peaks floated like islands in a dream.
A Classic Traverse: Up One Side, Down the Other
In those days, it was common—and practical—to ascend on one side of the mountain and descend on the other. This one-way traverse allowed hikers to experience more scenery without retracing their steps.
-
We ascended via the Back Mountain (后山) from Yungu Temple, passing:
-
Beginning-to-Believe Peak (始信峰)
-
White Goose Ridge (白鹅岭)
-
Stone Monkey Watching the Sea (猴子观海)
-
-
We descended via the Front Mountain (前山), exiting near Ciguang Pavilion (慈光阁), while enjoying:
-
Guest-Greeting Pine (迎客松)
-
Lotus Peak (莲花峰)
-
Celestial Capital Peak (天都峰) (often closed in winter for safety)
-
This traditional route provided a full, unforgettable tour of Huangshan’s landscapes—from quiet forests to dramatic cliffs.
Final Reflections: A Mountain That Lives in Memory
It’s hard to believe it’s been over four decades since I stood above the clouds on Huangshan. The mountain has changed—modernized, commercialized, and connected by cable cars and highways. But the version I experienced in 1983—raw, misty, untouched—remains the most profound journey of my youth.
No photos can replace the feeling of standing there, breathing that pure air, watching the sunrise shimmer over a sea of clouds, and seeing a rainbow halo form around your own shadow in the mist.
Huangshan will always live in my memory—not just as a place, but as a moment in time that shaped how I see the world.
Special thanks:Mount Huangshan (UNESCO/NHK)
No comments:
Post a Comment