A Memory of a Better Time

Have you ever been to a broken down amuse- ment park and just feel the sadness rush over you like a heavy blanket? I don't think there is a better way to describe Muzha and parts surrounding it. Asia has some of the most beautiful scenery in the world; and then the locals go and ruin it with the ugliest shtik imaginable.

My Saturday ride began with an impromptu stop in Shen Keng's old street. No more than 30 minutes from Taipei's downtown, this picturesque little outcrop of a city has some old world charm to it. Complete with tofu icecream, handmade muaji, and honest to God old fashioned water pumps, it's easy to be transported back to easier times.

My stop here was brief but enjoyable. I tried some of the deserts and delicacies before I took off for parts farther south. My bike ride brought me, eventually, to a spot just past the Kwan Yin Dripping Water Cave, where I had that nasty run in with the Black Widow, to Shi Fen. This little village has the most wonderful town center I have seen in Taiwan complete with cafes, running streams, cobblestone walkways, and the old Pingxi train line running through the heart of it.


Knowing the train doesn't come that often, I hopped along the tracks until I reached the entrance to the Shi Fen waterfall. Or actually, if I am to be entirely precise here, the entrance to the entrance to the Shi Fen waterfall. Ridiculous, I know, but then again, it is Taiwan.

The entrance opened up to a well kept path and two impressive suspension bridges turned pedestrian paths. One path followed right along the old railway line. At the base of the second suspension bridge was the Spectacle Caves waterfall- a waterfall slide that runs over two caves formed conspicously behind it. However, the true falls, in fact north Taiwan's largest waterfall, was right behind me and was only waiting for me to see it.


I crossed the bridge with a thrill only to find the second entrance to the waterfall closed. I had come here specifically after the great typhoon last weekend to see the waterfall in full flood. But to my awful luck, it was apparently closed due to damage caused by that very same typhoon. I joined in with the chorus of disheartened onlookers trying to spy in through the grass and bush just to catch a glimpse of this magnificent cascade. Frustrated, I returned back to my motorcycle and continued on to Barbarian Valley. A five minute ride up the road, I pulled into a failing and decrepit parking lot. Literally, it is what Disney Land would look like if it were a drug addict.

I looked at the main ticket entrance with a full scale map of Barbarian Valley. Filled with pictures of busses of tourists, happy families shooting archery or riding rowboats, and young couples admiring the falls, I knew this valley was no longer what it once was. I walked up to the gate entrance and there sat an old man smoking a cigarette, listening to a song on his radio that was fading in and out of static far too often to be even remotely enjoyable.

I asked him if this was Barbarian Valley. He told me it was. I asked him for one admittance. He just shook his head, waved his hands, and that was that. I would have tried to sneak in, if it wasn't for the large number of stray dogs circling about and my desire not to be their dinner. I hopped back on my bike and jetted out of that ghost town, back to Taipei, where I had a great dinner with my former landlady. (And by the way, I stopped back at Shen Keng to pick up some of that delicious muaji as a present to her!)


The following day, I spent with friends riding go-karts in Jongli. I snuck away for a while and hit a few dozen golf balls at a local driving range before I returned to take the old cart around the track a few more times. Again, these activities reminded me of a time when I was younger, on the karts up in Salsibury before my dad and I got an ice-cream on the way home.

There was icecream this time as well, oh yes. And it was Coldstone ice cream no less; so maybe these times are quite good too. From your speed demon racer of the karts and bikes, Michael.