By Elias Schwenk

Hiking the Huashan Mountain

By Elias Schwenk

After a two-hour ride from Xi’an,capital of northwest China’s Shaanxi Province, the bus reached Huashan Mountain, one of the five sacred Taoist mountains in China.

It took me almost fi ve hours to hike up to the western peak. Unfortunately,I missed the beautiful sunset when the path was blocked by a young tourist group. To them, the foreign tourist was like an exotic bird, presenting an incredible opportunity to take a picture. After 20 photos or so, I became slightly annoyed, but it was no problem to them. At last I turned the tables and took a photo to record the experience myself.

After walking away from the giggling group, I turned to the hostel where I was planning to spend the night. I picked out a bed and went immediately to the kitchen.The temperature outside was freezing, but not so in the warm and cozy kitchen, where seemingly all of the guests were gathered together. Next to my table, a young couple was slurping their soup. “Where are you from?” The young man asked shyly. I answered and we had a small chat. The fellow was studying in Beijing, and upon hearing that I worked in the capital, he was inconsolable for not having his business card on him. How could he forget such an important item on his tour to the Huashan Mountain!

At 4:30 a.m., the lights turned on.Everyone was hurrying to get a view of the spectacular sunrise on the opposite side of the mountain. Dozens of tiny cones of lights tottered up the mountain in the dark. I was amazed, as the almost vertical stairs had been a great challenge for me even at daylight. My amazement turned into disbelief the moment I passed an elderly couple who were mastering the ascent without any light at all.

On the east side of the mountain, hundreds of people were pushing and shoving to get the best position for a camera snapshot.But the interest of my fellow observers fi zzled brought food and drinks up to the kiosks and took down the garbage of the tourists,advanced carefully, step by step, in the crowds of tourists.

LI SHIGONG

The lower I got, the ascending climbers seemed to have higher spirits. They were still excited about the adventure they were experiencing. On the upper parts of the trail I only saw sweaty hair clinging to foreheads, the use of walking sticks was multiplying and people’s eyes were wandering up the trail in an almost pleading way, as if hoping for a cable railway to appear halfway.

On my way back to the valley, I also passed fl amboyant fi gures such as a young lady, who was managing the ascent in a Hello Kitty outfit. In her pink robe and ballerina pumps, she was advancing surprisingly fast, perhaps because her boyfriend was carrying her apparently quite heavy handbag.

Just a few meters down the trail, I passed an old monk around whose neck a small leather case was dangling, protecting not a camera but an old notepad and pencil. I wondered if he was enjoying his trip—there most certainly wouldn’t be any time for meditation amid the raucous masses of tourists.

Many got their motivation for the exhausting ascent by listening to music. This could be—in case of the younger generation—the tinny tones of Lady Gaga coming out of handy cellphones. But it might also be—as practiced by an elderly man—resounding military marches from the good old days coming out of a portable radio.

However disturbing the music might have been, I thought of one lesson while getting on the bus back to Xi’an: The Huashan Mountain is still an unspoiled Chinese spot and for that reason alone is well worth a trip.out the moment the sun had risen in full.Everyone turned away and started to descend.

It didn’t take long to see that this wouldn’t run smoothly. The result of hundreds of people starting their descent at the same time: a 2,000-meter-high rush hour! At least there was one advantage over Beijing’s evening traffic:The view of the surroundings was better by far.

As the masses dispersed and began descending the thousands of steps, I focused on the different types of hikers I was passing.

Some thought that they might do the ascent in a single rush and after 50 stairs found themselves panting in front of one of the little kiosks. But I also passed those who obviously knew how to do it right: The carriers, who