时间：2022-10-20 04:16:59
The Qinling Mountains, running roughly west-east, bisect China ’s north and south, marking the watershed between the drainage areas of the Yangtze and the Yellow rivers. Boasting rich biodiversity, haphazard topography and a unique climate, there’s no better place to begin exploring this often-overlooked mountain range than Mount Taibai, its highest point.
I chose early May to make my ascent with a few friends, inspired by other travelers’ tales of blossoming rhododendrons on the mountain slopes. In the late spring drizzle, a taxi drove us along the meandering mountain roads to Haoping Temple, a Taoist retreat on the northern slope of Mount Taibai and the jumping-off point for our five-day excursion.
Two black robed Taoist priests were sitting down to lunch as we arrived, and invited us to join them. If only we hadn’t filled up in the foothills, concerned that square meals on the mountain slopes, populated largely by Taoist hermits and made famous in Bill Porter ’s 2007 travel- ogue Road to Heaven: Encounters with Chinese Hermits (see: “Seeking the Root of Zen,” NewsChina, February 2011), would be hard to come by. Reluctantly, we thanked the priests and continued our journey along the muddy track.
Bloom
The rain showed no signs of stopping, and the increasingly sodden pathway was threatening to completely encase our trudging feet. However, our minds were drawn from our soggy socks by a profusion of bellshaped lilies blossoming by the roadside. These milk-white blooms were immediately identified by one of the botanists traveling with us, and soon a running commentary on plant species was in full flower as new mountain flora revealed themselves every step along the trail. Soon, we were all on first-name terms with the surrounding plant life.
Bittercress, blue bugle and fairy bells lined our route to our sleeping place - Dadian, or the “Big Hall,” a Taoist temple complex which, when we arrived, stood empty. We camped inside the compound and lit a camping stove for warmth and to cook the victory onion leaves and Chinese toon shoots obtained from one of the many temples we had passed on our way.
We awoke to birdsong but, unfortunately, no break in the clammy fog. As our hike continued, we began to notice the gradual increase in altitude, a sensation advertised in colorful splendor by the Taibai rhododendrons. Less than 20 minutes after departure, these unimaginably beautiful pink and white flowers were everywhere beside, below and above us.
Eight hours of trekking brought us to Mingxing Temple, our second campsite. The rhododendrons splattered color and life across the misty, mud-caked paths of Taibai, meaning we arrived at our resting place with more vigor than when we had staggered into the desolate courtyard of Dadian the previous night. Mingxing Temple is a deserted adobe house built beneath mountain cliffs. Inside, a broken bed, a shaky table and dangling, shredded drapes were the only nods to comfort. We set up our tent inside the house and foraged for combustible firewood in the forest, spending the night chatting and joking around our indoor bonfire which did an admirable job of drying out our drenched clothing.
Aim Higher
The next day took us through dense subalpine coniferous forest and to even greater altitudes. The temperature dropped noticeably and we began to spy snowdrifts alongside the path, drifts which soon stood at waist height. At noon, the fog finally receded and when the first beam of sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, we saw the snowcapped peak of Mount Taibai gleaming in the distance.
With the arrival of sunlight came the fauna pika, weasels, blood pheasant and golden pheasant began to appear on the trail. We spent the night in a family-run inn near the top of the mountain, a full moon foreshadowing our final ascent of Baxian Tai, Taibai’s summit, 12,300 feet above sea level.
The peak, as it turned out, was far less exciting than the journey down. After returning to the inn to collect our baggage, we hit the southern descent along Galloping Horse Ridge, which protrudes above the clouds, offering tantalizing glimpses into the valley below. We could observe the mounting clouds crawling up from the mountain valley, blurring the boundary between heaven and earth.
The southern slope of Taibai feels like a different world the dripping coniferous forests of the north face are replaced by rolling alpine grassland, broadleaf birch and oak, and hornbeam forests which finally give way to the ubiquitous bamboo groves the elusive wild pandas keeping well clear of the hiking trails.
However, these chunky black-and-white denizens of the Qinling’s southern foothills could set up home on the mountain paths and be fairly comfortable that they’d never see a human being. Few people venture into the depths of this mountain range, making it an unparalleled oasis of tranquility in a country plagued by the noise and bustle of human development.