The Stairway to Hell Valley

Now that the weather's changing, for the better naturally, I have decided to incor- porate as many hikes into the weekends as I possibly can. Today marked the start of these Taipei Tours. In the coming weeks, I will be inviting my friends out to join me on a hike up in Tienmu, and since we may possibly have a large number coming with us, I decided to head out beforehand and scope out the scenery. And in this preparation, I was met with beauty, danger, and the weirdest place in Taiwan.

I began the day with a drive over to Tienmu- the little America of Taipei- known for its expansive ex-pat community, boutique shopping, and as a coveted resource to purchase American candies like Reese's Peanut Buttercups and Butterfingers. But today, my compass remained focused away from these calorie counters and instead on vertical heights and better views.


At the top of Tienmu circle, there is the entrance to the Tienmu Old Trail. The beginning to the trail is excessively strenuous to those who hate stairs. Although I didn't count them, you begin by climbing straight up a mountain, traversing over thousands of steps of stairs; a nearly impossible feat had I not been attending the gym and working out on the Stair-master. The stairs climbed ferociously past jungled homes and mountain-terraced gardens. At times, the staircase seemed to move along in impossible dimensions, fraying out in fascinating waves and curls, sending one off in dizzy spells certain to throw you off balance and incidentally, off the mountainside.


A short respite was welcomed, before more stairs.


Finally, at the top of the mountain, I came across a long, cylindrical black tube running down the mountain side. The sound of rushing water could be heard within its mysterious innards. This long black tube was the culmination of the Grass Mountain Waterworks. Disease was a common problem for Japanese forces occupying Penghu Islands, during the Sino-Japanese Wars, and while building a framework of interconnecting crossroads throughout Taiwan. To prevent the further spread of disease, and to protect Japanese Nationals living in Taiwan, the Japanese Government set up a public health system in 1895 involving running water and sewage. Eventually, the need for tap water grew so high, the Japanese Administration could not meet the population's needs. Therefore, in 1928, the Grass Mountain Waterworks project, in front of which I was standing, was implemented. It delivered 28,800 cubic meters of water from Yangmingshan to 150,000 people in Taipei per day.


Where the trail and the pipeline met, the roads divided. One way was a continuation of stairs to the Taipei Cultural University. The other way was the more scenic, and ironically, more dangerous of the two routes. Naturally, I chose this pathway.

While this route offers scenic vistas comparable to an early autumn's hike in the Berkshires, this jungle has one thing eastern Massachusetts does not: the Macaque monkey. An endemic in Taiwan, these monkeys live generally in areas under 3,000 meters above sea level. They are most active at dawn and dusk, and seeing as my trek was in the middle of the day, I made no encounter with them. But not to fear, I will have a second chance as I plan to take my friends up at the start of dawn to find the monkeys.


Some may find this mission to be a bit foolhardy, as the Macaque are known to attack tourists with their teeth and claws, steal food or expensive electronics, and make life a little more tiresome after climbing all those damn stairs. I am told that as long as I do not stare, or stop to feed them, I will be fine. I intend to follow the rules on this one!


After passing an oddly placed restaurant on the middle of the trail, complete with two dogs and an enormous hog, I reached the end of the trail. Having arrived at a paved road, with a map only in Chinese, I was a bit confused on where to go. Fortunately, a very kind woman offered me guidance. She informed me I could go either way- the first brought me to the Taipei Culture University while the other sent me to the backside of Yangmingshan. At first I crawled up the steep road to the University where I grabbed a second lunch (I was hungry after all that work), found a Catholic Church designed in far eastern decor, decided the University area was boring and returned back to go the other way. This way was much more interesting because the pathway followed along side a natural hot spring river. I followed the steaming brook, and the sulfurous fumes, until I finally reached my destination- the base of Yangminshan. I caught a bus and rode it back down the mountain to the MRT, and took a train up to Xinbeitou.


I had been to Xinbeitou once before, during the winter, to experience the public outdoor hot spring. This time, my destination was along the same lines, but entirely different. I was headed for the source.


Along the central park, past the public library, the hot spring museum, and the public hot spring, up the hill and down a side street not well marked, I came across the strangest, and eeriest place I have been to yet in Taiwan- Hell Valley. Hell Valley is the hot spring source where a foul and odoriferous natural spring comes gushing up through a sulfur gas hole from the volcanic fires below. The spring ejects 2,000 CMD of water at a near boiling temperature of between 80 degrees and 100 degrees Celsius. Although it is clearly too hot to swim in, that doesn't stop locals from coming to boil their eggs in the water! It is a very acidic geothermal pool with a pH of between 1.2 and 1.6, allowing it to easily corrode metals and buildings. As a Melanterite Spring, or more commonly known as a Green Sulfur Spring, it exists in only one other place in the entire world.


Hell Valley covers an area of about 3,500 square feet. The valley is, we shall call it what is is, the crater of a volcano that was formed when it sunk prior to an eruption. Fortunately, today, the residual heat within the crater is not strong enough to set off another kaboom. Instead, it makes for a piping hot source for hot, and surprisingly enough, radioactive springs. The small traces of Radium found in Hell Valley give the hot springs it feeds a recreational and rehabilitating (as some claim) effect.


And when my time with with Hell Valley came to a close, I decided it was time to put that radioactive magic to work on my very tired feet. I walked further down stream, to where the boiling hot water had cooled down quite a bit, stopped by a noodle shop and ordered a bowl of beef noodles to go, strolled down to the running green sulfur water, took off my shoes, rolled up my pants, and I dipped my aching feet into the rejuvenating hot spring waters rushing past me just as the sun was beginning to set in the distant horizon.

Now when I dug my chopsticks into my slippery noodles and reminded myself I was cleansing my feet in a radioactive river coming straight from a volcanic crater, I had to check myself and ask, "Can life really get any better than this?"


From a man who finds himself asking that question more and more each day, your friend, Michael.