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In the four years that I’ve been sporadically treling around China, ticking famous sites off the World Heritage bucket list and trying my best to visit at least every province once, I’ve realized that few activities are as rewarding or insightful a glimpse of China as a hike up a revered mountain.
Sure there’s the landscape, but it’s also an opportunity to share a path with vast crowds of local Chinese trelers as you climb, wheeze, pant, trudge and eventually ascend to the summit – that is, unless you join the droves taking the cable car. Some want to talk to you, some want to walk with you, some– I get the impression – just seem irritated that they’re being overtaken by a foreigner on their own sacred turf.
Historically these mountains were deemed to be sacred due to their proximity to the heens, their awe-inspiring beauty and probably the fact that the days-long journey from home to the summit made for a suitably arduous pil- grimage. Nowadays it’s an altogether different scene. Whole villages of souvenir stores and hotels he swallowed the foot of the mountain, cable cars take most of the hassle out of the pilgrimage （although the queues ensure some lingering arduousness） and it seems that instant noodles and Red Bull are the food and drink of choice for weary hikers. To say that these peaks – with their theme park-like maps and 200 yuan （US$32.50） entrance tickets –he become commercialized, is a bit of an understatement.
But does that make them any less enjoyable to walk up? Absolutely not, as two days spent hiking on Emei Shan, two hours’ bus ride south of Chengdu, reveals.
In terms of the kinship you feel with your fellow hikers, there is something about being outside of an urban environment that puts everyone on a more level pegging. Halfway up a misty mountain it’s standard protocol to acknowledge a passerby with a quick “ni hao’”– imagine doing that to everyone you pass in downtown Shanghai. In the city – maybe it’s from the way we dress – it’s much more obvious who you are： white collar worker, taxi driver, student, tourist or otherwise. As you consult another hiker on whether it’s possible to get to the White Cloud Temple by foot before sundown, and whether they think the monastery has hot running water, the barriers of communication that can impede other interaction seem less pronounced.
We set off from the foot of the mountain at about midday on Thursday. The first piece of advice we receive from a fruit vendor at the foot of the mountain is to buy a walking stick made from bamboo. Conveniently, she has a large range for sale. I assure her that I can handle the steps without one, but she bursts out laughing and shouts “houzi！” at me –“monkeys！” It’s not just hoards of hikers that you’ll he to nigate past, but monkeys too. Mount Emei is crawling with Tibetan macaques, a breed of monkey that seem to he developed a great adeptness for tormenting tourists, primarily by stealing their possessions and jumping on their heads. Banging sticks against the ground, we are told, is an effective way to ward them off. We buy a stick each, for the quite reasonable sum of 5 yuan（US$0.80）. Reading that monkeys are particularly attracted to hikers carrying food in their bags, we decide not to buy a pineapple for 10 yuan （US$1.60）.
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