Tragedy at Silver Stream Cave

Last Monday began as usual: early wake up, tea on the balcony, prepar- ations made to go hiking, and then of course, rain on my day off. The rain wasn't particularly pounding at the time, but it was enough for me to consider whether I should make for the mountains or not. With little foresight into the dangers of such a decision, I grabbed my water shoes, packed my sack, and raced out the door to the Silver Stream Cave near the Muzha Tea Gardens.

On my way to these esteemed gardens, I met a jolly soul on the bus. His English was quite good and he told me all about life, well actually, all about his life. He told me that the location I was heading happened to be where the government stores all their top secret, classified documents. He told me he moved away from mainland China because his brother was a high ranking officer there. He also told me that he was eighty years old. During this delightful yet obviously disjointed conversation, I asked two questions and received two surprising answers from him.

The first question was about his destination. He told me he was returning home after visiting his wife. I found this odd and asked him to explain. Well, as it turns out, he likes the mountains and his wife likes the city, so rather than living together, they each have their own apartment and he goes to visit her each day. The second question revolved around why he had such a high command of the English language. Well, as it turns out, he used to serve in the Navy, hence his expatriation from his brother I suppose, and studied at various naval academies in the United States. I then asked if he had ever been to the Groton Sub Base, and as it turns out, he had! This was a delightful coincidence because I went to college at Connecticut College, which happens to be on the opposite side of the Thames River.

When I arrived at the terminal stop on the bus line, I was once again in my element, surrounded by mountains and greenery. I took to a small path and climbed my way up some hefty flights of stairs. At this point, I am beginning to notice a pattern in Taiwanese hiking paths. Rather than winding normally up the side of the mountain, the Taiwanese clearly prefer the direct, and thus more strenuous straight up shoot.


Half way up, I decided to sojourn at a cool wading pool. Little did I know this would be the turning point of my little stroll up the mountainside. I dipped my already wet feet into the cool of the stream and took some lovely photographs of the rushing water. Satisfied with my rest, I gathered my belongings and took off over some wet, slanted rocks. Up until this point, I had taken extreme caution over my steps, ensuring a safe and enjoyable hike. However, a momentary lapse of judgment sent me over those slippery rocks and before I know it, my balance was thrown off kilter.

I threw my guide book up into the air, and the protruding weight of the sack on my back took me hard to the ground. My right rand slammed intensely onto a nearby rock, sending the most excruciating pains through my right arm. As soon as my hand made contact with the rock, I knew some serious damage had occurred.


Knowing that swelling would soon overtake my hand, I needed to get ice on it quickly. However, I was alone in the middle of the woods, and the closest 7/11 would be about 45 minutes away, providing me with no help. Thinking quickly, I looked at the stream and decided to put my hand into it to keep it cold. I had remembered hearing once that, in addition to keeping an injured body part cold, you ought to keep it dry as well. However, the heavy rain at this point removed this option from me, leaving me with no choice but to douse my hand in the cold water.

Unfortunately, this is a sub-tropical island and the water wasn't really that cold. I had to make a decision- should I turn back for help, or get to the waterfall. I knew that I wouldn't be able to get anywhere fast enough to get immediate aid, so I saw no harm in finishing the hike up to the waterfall. And boy, was I glad I did.

The waterfall shoots over the cliff at an impressive 60 meters. Due to the heavy rain, the waterfall was particularly impressive. Although I didn't spend long at the waterfall, I did have enough time to explore its more immediate charm. For instance, you can enter into a cave that goes behind the waterfall, up to a small temple and get stunning views of the cascades and valley.

But with the throbbing pain, I knew it was time to return back down the mountainside. Slowly traversing the slippery steps, one by one, I eventually made it down to the roadside and into a 7/11. I have learned many words here, and it's always good to be in a situation where you are required to use them. At this time, I was beyond joy at the fact that I could ask, "Do you have any ice?"

Once out of the 7/11, I caught a bus directly for the hospital. I went into the emergency room and got an x-ray. Fortunately, nothing was broken, but they were concerned about a few places that, if I overused my arm, could develop into serious fractures. They therefore wrapped me up and prescribed me some pain medication. With that, I paid about US $20, and was on my way.

Deprived of the use of my right hand, my grand companion, I was forced to turn to my often neglected left hand. Over the next few days, my left hand and I got very close as I learned to shower and get dressed, write, and even use chopsticks with it. The experiences were frustrating, but achievable.

The bandages are now off, and aside from a very deep bruise, my hand is back in working condition. So from your born again lefty in Taiwan, please follow my advice: if you are going to go hiking in the rain, take an umbrella. Your friend, Michael.

Whitewater-Ho!

On Saturday night, friends of mine and I boarded a train for Hualien in the central part of Taiwan. This was to be my second trip to Hualien, but for a much different reason. The first time, with the squid balls, our primary destination was Taroko Gorge. This time, however, we went for white water rafting.

We began early with a rice porridge breakfast- truly a breakfast for champ- ions. We then descended down the stairs of our hotel and waited patiently for the van to arrive. As we started to file into the van, the driver stopped me deliberately, gave me a crooked smile, and told me to get in the front. Certainly I wasn't about to complain as I was to be afforded the best views there.

We arrived about ninety minutes later at the rafting center and watched an inspirational safety video. As it was in Chinese, we didn't get much out of the video except that we shouldn't jump out of the boat or bring along our digital cameras. With that, we put our cameras back in the van and got a twenty minute demonstration on how to put on our life jackets.


Then, like lemmings, we all made our way down to the river, got on our rafts, and paddled away with a hoard of other people. The day was then broken up into two parts. The first came before lunch and the second, obviously, after lunch. The difference, however, was starker than the Republic of China and the People's Republic of China. The first half was lazy and, quite frankly, mostly paddling along calm water before there was any notice of "rapidy bits". It got to the point where we tied onto a motorboat and were towed along down the river.

For lunch we were given a traditional Taiwanese lunch box set amidst the stunning scenery. My friend and I were delighted to discover that our van was at this location. Therefore, we snuck in, grabbed our cameras, and smuggled them onto the raft to document our voyage along these class one rapids.

To lighten our moods, we decided to pretend we were intrepid adven- turers, and as any good adven- turers must have, we needed a theme song. Therefore, as we approached our first set of rapids, we all built up the anticipation by singing, quite loudly in fact, the Indiana Jones Theme Song. It was no coincidence, either, that as soon as we hit the first rock, we also got stuck on it. Alas, white water rafting subsequently became whitewater walking.

As we started to approach the second set of rapids, our melody was inter- rupted by the loud crash of oncoming thunder. Rain started to drop on our heads and the tension began to mount. At this point, I hit the record button and got on film the most exciting two minutes of our journey. As we approached the oncoming rapids, we were taken by no choice of ours straight for another raft stuck on a rock. Bumping into them, we dislodged their boat from their unfortunate predicament only to realize that we had usurped their thrown and now reigned over this tiny mid-river island.

Our rule was short lived as another boat immedi- ately struck us from behind. But rather than pushing us along, as we are strong rulers, their boat hopped up on top of ours. The rushing of the water at the back of the boat disturbed the weight distribution causing the raft to capsize right on the rapid. The villains trying to take our throne were launched into the water and started floating down stream. Paddles and helmets were lost to the current. Yet, while the rapids were weak, two sailors on the capsized boat were in a dangerous position: they were trapped under the over turned raft with water rushing into the boat. As we scrambled to pull a floating passerby into out raft, another team came along and restored the boat to its original position. All were saved. All was recorded. However, I assure you, the incident was not nearly as exciting as the music makes it out to be.

We were picked up where the river and the ocean meet in a place called Taitung, and were driven back up to Haulien along the most extra- ordinary coast line. Back in Haulien, we stopped for a sojourn at a local tea house before going to a fabulous Haka restaurant with tremendously scrumptious meals.

So, from your Indiana Jones and The Legend of the Whitewater Rafters, Michael.

The Lin Family Garden

On Thursdays, I am fortunately blessed with an excess- ively long midday siesta. I finish a lesson at noon and don't reconvene in the classroom until quarter to five. This gives me plenty of time to get lunch, go to the gym, or take off for hidden jewels in the city. This particular Thursday lunch event brought me to the finest example of a Chinese garden in Taipei- the Lin Family Garden.


Located in the Banchiao district of Taipei, it was no simple ride from point A to point B. In fact, no more than a few years ago, before the MRT opened up, the best way to reach this district was by train. And then, even before that, Banchiao was even considered a township outside of the city of Taipei where the seat of the local ruling government was planted. Today, easy access and planning is turning this section of Taipei into one of it's fastest growing suburbs. What used to be rolling mountains and charming rivers is now replaced by massive sky scrapers.


The Lin Family was one the most prosperous, and therefore most powerful, families in Taiwan during the Ching Dynasty. In the 18th century, Lin Ying-Yin transplanted in Taiwan from the Fujian Province in China. As master traders between Taiwan and China, the Lin Family began to accumulate vast amounts of wealth. Their master project, however, came at the distribution of salt to all of Taiwan. Ping-hou, Lin Ling-Yin's son, shared the risk and profit of this venture, and at the age of 50, returned home to Fujian with enough cash to purchase a government position for himself. Eventually he retired and returned home to Taiwan.


Clearly, Banchiao was never a place, strictly speaking, "for the birds".


During the Chang-chou and Chuan-chou clashes, Ping-hou commissioned the construction of a mansion with massive walls, comparable to any well suited fortress, solely for defense. Then in 1847, Bi-Yi hall was built and thus developed into the estate seen today.


Ping-hou had five sons, but only two were capable enough to carry on their father's and grandfather's sense of risk and expansion. In 1851, Guo-hua and Guo-fang built a 3-courtyard house next to Bi-Yi hall into the entire family eventually moved. The house was further developed by Guo-Hua's two sons- Lin Wei-rang and Lin Wei-yuan under the private tutelage of the famous scholars Lu Shi-tusen and Shie Guan-Chiau- with a house consisting of five separate courtyards and a taller order on the already impressive gardens.


After entering the gardens, I made my way along a long flowered pathway. Up to a square pavilion. To the right of me was the Lin Mansion and to the left was Lai-Ching Hall. This hall, being the tallest structure in the garden, served as a theater. Inscribed above it was the phrase "One smiles when the curtain goes up." A two storied structure, the hall was often used to quarter guests. It also gave some of the most impressive views of the surrounding countryside.


The mansion itself was quite lovely. It's construction began in 1851 and was constructed in Banchiao for convenience in collecting rent from tenants. Financing clashes between the Chang-Chou and Chuan-Chou immigrants, it is impressive the mansion still had enough funds to be built in such elaborate terms. At the front of the mansion is a small reflecting pool, symbolic of a mirror at the entranceway. Often times, landowners put mirrors at doorways so men could look at themselves and question the deeds they had done that day. The symbolism extended into the back as well, with mountain ranges protecting them from invasion.


The mansion itself has three courtyards, hence it has since become known as "The Old Three-Courtyard House." In addition to these courtyards, it has two walkways with parallel buildings on either side. The buildings were considered "protecting dragons" of the mansion that embraced the entire mansion, and in this sense, the mansion was constructed according to the following blueprints: "In a large house, nine embraces five. Three courtyards one hundred twenty doors." Essentially, the front ought to be nine bays wide with five bays making up the central unit. The "protecting dragons" embrace the five bays. Three courtyards is obvious, as evidenced by the name, and the refers to the number of windows and doors throughout the 52 rooms in the Entrance Hall, Ancestral Hall, and rear hall: a far cry from my studio apartment.


Each hall in the mansion served a different function. The entrance hall housed the sedan chair, the chair bearers, and housekeepers. The ancestral hall housed a shrine used to worship ancestral members. The main family lived on either side of the hall, while the elder members lived in the Rear Hall- a kind of retirement home in a way.


But perhaps, in my humble opinion, the most stunning aspect of this garden goes to the Banyan Shade Pool. A fairly elaborate reflecting pool doused in the shade of Banyan trees gives this unique location it's equally unique moniker. In the center of the pond is a tiny island, accessible by a stone bridge, with the words "Yun-Jin-Tsung" inscribed on a panel. From the island, you are presented with a very odd sight- a wall comprised of artificial mountain ranges. Supposedly, these mountain ranges were crafted to resemble the mountains in Chang-chou, the family's homeland. Exploration of these artificial mountains was permitted, although extreme care must be taken.



The largest quadrangular house on the estate goes to Ding Jing Hall. This was also the last part of the garden I visited on my walk. Taken from "The Great Learning" by Confucius, Ding-Jing means "To that calmness there will succeed a tranquil repose." Ding Jing hall was used as a place for entertaining guests. And, as I was making my way for the exit of this beautifully restored and immaculately maintained estate, I imagined myself a guest of one of those extraordinary parties. I pictured wonderful music, delicious foods, and bright colors as the hosts wished me off into the night.


And with my memory behind me, and the gardens, I made my way to work for some afternoon and evening classes. From a man who lived a life of ancient luxury, even if it was for only one hot and humid afternoon, Michael.

Cow Tipping in the Grasslands

Last Sunday, I took five of my friends on a gentle (some may argue this point) stroll up to Yang- mingshan National Park just north of Taipei. The beginning of the hike traced the Tienmu trail I described in my post "The Stairway to Hell Valley". Yet for some reason, I still managed to miss this stunning view of Taipei 101 on my first ascent up the 1,400 stairs to the land of monkeys.

However, instead of taking a bus down from the Yangmingshan Bus Depot this time, we took a minibus up to the National Park and onto the back side of the mountain. We got off at the waterfall trail- one which was, of course, not devoid of more startling and strenuous stairs- and made our way to a precious little waterfall. The likes of which do not compare with Wulai, but it nevertheless had it's own enchanting qualities.

Once past the waterfall, it was a straight shoot up to Yang- mingshan Grass- lands, and one of the most stunning views offered around Taipei. This area of Yangmingshan is the highest point on the Jinbaoli, or Fisherman's trail, that stretches all the way from Jinshan to Shilin. It was a popular place to rest during long trips in the Qing Dynasty and was also the same time that the God of Earth was moved her from the tea fields. It has rested here for more than 200 years. Let these panoramic shots stand for themselves! Be sure to click to enlarge...



In addition to it's commanding scenery, the Grasslands were also used as a popular location for herding wild cattle. Today, surprisingly enough, wild cattle still roam this heavily populated tourist attraction. While we didn't see any cattle that day, there were plenty of cow pies around to remind us who were the real owners of the grassland. One sign read "Attention: you are located at Yangmingshan ranch now. The incident of cattle attacks have happened before. The security fence is for your own safety and to avoid over trampling on the Grassland, you are not allowed to cross over the fence." Security fence? What security fence? Oh, do they mean this two foot high piece of rope not strong enough to stop a rollaway baby carriage let alone a wild charging bull? RUN KIDS!!! RUN!!!! YOU'RE NOT IN THE SECURITY ZONE YET!!!! RUUUUN!!!!


At the end of the day, we relax and went to the secret hot springs. For about US $15, we got full spa treatment in the hots springs and an enormous gourmet feast including fried rice, fried noodles, two servings of sashimi on ice, a beef sizziling iron plate and a tofu sizzling iron plate, in addition to orange juice, coconut juice, mango smoothies, and Taiwan beer- a necessity after any hot spring excursion.


In the end, the day was a major success. People arrived on time, and despite seeing no monkeys, everyone was simply just glad to be outside and being active.

So until next time, you cow tipping friend of Taiwan, Michael.

Nature's Doll House

With the finest day of weather so far this year- not too hot, not too cold, not too dry, not to humid, in a word: perfect- I took off for a day of trekking down to Wulai and Doll Valley. This was to be my second visit to Wulai, so I already knew my surroundings slightly better.

Wulai is located about twenty to thirty minutes south of Xindian Station, at the southernmost tip of Taipei. It's hard to believe that no more than a hundred years ago, this quiet spot was considered wilderness and home to adventurers and aboriginal tribes. A bit on the aboriginies here- still inhabited by the Tai Ya Tribe, Wulai is a termed used by them meaning "hot springs". From this, I am sure you can guess what Wulai is therefore world renowned for. Although Wulai is popular for its first class hot springs, and its vast cultural exhibits and shows on the Tai Ya Tribe, I ventured into this town for other reasons.


Pulling into the bus depot at the entrance to Wulai, the first thing to grab your attention is hundreds of pipes and hoses running down the side of the gorge and dangling precariously over the river below. These pipes are funneling the hot water from the mountain's hot springs into the various hotels and resorts on the other side of the river along the old street.


The old street has many delicious, and overpriced, foods and delicacies awaiting the eager day traveler. Wulai is overrun with tourists and visitors from Taipei during the weekends, but on this Monday afternoon, it was like I had perfection all to myself. I could choose from peppered spices to garlic Taiwanese sausages. Muaji is another delicious concoction served very well in Wulai's Old Street. This Taiwanese snack originates from Haulien, in the central part of Taipei, and is made from blended and pureed sticky rice. You then have the option of putting peanuts, spices, or as I chose, sweet cream on the treat. The result is a very sweet, and very newly flavored item, tapping your taste buds.


I crossed the river via the Old Street and continued my journey upstream. On my way, alone, up lover's path, I came across the old train that carries tourists from the Old Street to the ever popular Wulai Waterfall. A word on pronunciation here- to say "waterfall" in Chinese, one must stress in the fourth tone, with is a very sharp and forceful tone, "Pu Bu." Naturally, when I first told people I saw the "Wulai PuBu" ,I told them I saw the "Wulai Poo Poo". Big difference.


The Wulai PuBu is a magnificent specimen of a waterfall. At 80 meters high, it plummets majestically into the foaming river below like a silver ribbon dangling against the hunter green
conifers lining the gorge side. The waterfall is best viewed from the viewing platform directly in front of the waterfall, or slightly to the right.


Above the waterfall are Alpine Cable Cars, the only pair in Northern Taiwan, that take you to the top of the waterfall. The view is impressive, but more importantly, I was excited by what was behind the waterfall. After climbing up countless flights of stairs, you come across an old amusement part- Cloud Fairy Garden. This place is the epitome of former glory. What was once the location of a Disney-esque park, located in the high mountains of aboriginal territory is now, sadly, falling back to the chaos and disorder of nature. To put it bluntly- the most interesting thing to do at this amusement park was archery.



After the Wulai PuBu, I continued on along the gorge. Until 1994, admittance into the Wulai territory after this point required a permit. This old police checkpoint serves as a reminder of stricter past times. Today, one only requires a car, motorcycles, or in my case- two strong legs and plenty of time.


After passing a small tunnel, the gorge becomes surreal. It's as almost if the tunnel connects two vastly different worlds- a land designed to accommodate tourists, and a land reserved for dreamers with a larger vision. The river cuts deeply into the ground leaving immense hills and towering mountains dwarfing your diminishing sense of self. Birds of prey circle above- a sometimes unwelcome presence for a lone traveler under the hot sun.


Eventually, a pedestrian suspension bridge comes into view, taking away cars and modern conveniences and giving the trekker the sublimity of nature. The path has drastic waterfalls and trickling streams rushing across is at various points. To the right is a concrete wall protecting walkers from falling mercilessly to the rushing valley below. At one point, however, the stone wall opens up and a steep, barely visible pathway opens up taking visitors to the sparking blue bathing pools of the river below.


At the end of the trail, I arrived at a small, secluded village called Hsin Hsian. No larger than a few homes and a small Elementary school, this village is the guardian of the Nei Tung Forest Park. A surprisingly expensive entrance fee of NT$65 provides you with admittance to the park. Once in, you eyes are delighted by some of the more impressive waterfalls one can see in northern Taiwan. The first of which is Wu Hsia Waterfall- but being across the river and crowded by hanging trees, there isn't much eye candy to behold. But, if we learned anything from Jaws, you never show the shark in the first reel.


The greatest waterfall in my opinion came at the end of the hike in Doll Valley. Although it isn't as high or as convenient as Wulai PuBu, I think the crystal blue pools into which the three tiered waterfall cascades into sets one up for one of the most charming and delightful spectacles along the walk. The waterfalls are so magnificent, and the location so charming, it's common to think you're not in Taiwan, but rather, deep exploring the inner jungles as a famed explorer!


With the sun beginning to set, and six kilometers of walking ahead of me, I knew I had to begin to turn back. On my return, I was presented with the walk I had just completed, but this time, from a reversed perspective. New images and scenery were laid before me and spectacles I missed the first time around came into view. The most obvious was this one of the damn. Situated within the forest, this damn delivers water five kilometers underground to a power station back in Wulai. But this modern marvel placed in the middle of rural Taiwan is, of course, photo worthy.


The walk back was calm and peaceful. The train had stopped running. The Alpine Cable Cars suspended their operations for the day. I even half expected somebody to turn the faucet, thus turning off the Wulai PuBu. Back at Wulai, the things were still bustling about. Shops were opening up for dinner, families were meeting for their evening dip in the public hot springs, and I ran into two very sweet and charming girls from Hong Kong that I had met up at Doll Valley. I introduced them to the famous Muaji and they were delighted. We then parted, and I made my way for a quick lunch, bamboo rice, before making my way home.


From your Waterfall/Fecal matter day tripper, Michael.