This is the briefest story of a reinvigorating hike that was much needed following the clout of people in Hong Kong for the New Year. So what else can you to release the tension but by hiking up a mountain? That makes perfect sense!
"No, Jeff. Everything but that statement would make sense. It's obviously a bit of a non-sequitur which is a logical fallacy ..."
Okay, okay. Shut it. Here's my story.
Steph (goes to UCal-Riverside) is an avid outdoor freak. So she assembles a group to go hiking on this day. It's supposed to be a 2-3 hour excursion on this winding little trail known as "The Dragon's Back". Which is awesomely located on the far west coast of Hong Kong Island, far removed from the urbanites and subway systems in favor of reeling, steep plateaus and graceful swoops of land from the South China Sea... Though we take the bus to get to the entrance of the adjacent park.
Setting: it's beautifully overcast, a bit cool, and definitely a lot windy. Having no idea where we're going, I'm excited. For some reason, the idea of getting lost in a place without buildings and grid systems and gallimaufries of feet and lights and bizarre fashion excites me. Again, there are around 13-14 of us... Yeah, that's probably close enough to the estimate. Anyway.
After taking forever to get there (partially due to the ridiculous amount of people, partially due to the place being way in the outskirts), we wait at the bus terminal in Whereverweare for one of Steph's friends, a local student, to lead us. We take the bus a half hour out of the suburban town, and eventually are let off at the obvious base of a small mountain. The place is serene -- gently sloping foothills all over, the South China Sea shown over some plateaued cliffs, dense foliage in all directions, and the only residential area (called Shek O) out in the horizon, away from the trail.
The trail is all dirt and rocks at the beginning, gently meandering through the thick brush of the forest, but gradually getting steeper, and just as gradually, more rocks start to appear that we have to hop over, making for a bit of an uneven walk, but a fun bunny slope of a trek nonetheless.
At this point, we're just sort of merrily following the trail, not really realizing that as we wind around the mountain, we're also gradually increasing in elevation, until a small break in the trees to see where we were...
The heavy fog in the distance added a perfectly... Irish sort of mystery to what would lie ahead and around each corner, as the visibility was a bit limited on the bottom of the hike.
At a point, the trail broke off into two distinct sides of a fork: one that had some shoddily-but-perfectly-fitting stone "steps" going upward at a berserk acute angle, and another that went along its merry way in about the same fashion, probably eventually looping around back to the entrance. Of course, we wanted to walk the Dragon's Back, so we went straight up to a point where the treeline vanished, only leaving some tall grasses (making the most beautiful susurrant ripples with the gusting wind) and rock formations.
But we made it all the way to the summit of said foothill/small mountain, and wow. Overlooking the sea and a small bay from this height, anything felt surmountable.
I had actually thought that this was the peak of the heights we would see... But I was wrong. Looking over the trail, I realized that we hadn't even made it to the "dragon's back" yet. The dragon's back actually referred to the winding trail that thumbed between the peaks of all of these cliffs, going up to at least 3 different peaks of different mountains.
As we began to meander through, the weather at this elevation had drastically changed... The wind went from a heightened whisper to a holler, the temperature had dropped another 5-7 degrees, and gusts of up to 30 mph were walloping us from time to time. Noah and Matt, who had worn shorts thinking that today would mirror days' past, were freezing their faces off. Here, though, I didn't feel cold at all, partially due to the fact that I actually brought my jacket, but also because I was just flying with adrenaline. Kinetic energy carried me down large, jagged hillsides to tread to the next overview of the same awe-inspiring seascape, which involved, at times, peering way too close to the edge of the cliff and looking over, even with the spritzes of pounding wind.
The Irish-like fog was below us now. I was hyper with enthusiasm.
It was a bit ironic, I suppose, but I never felt a closer propinquity to any of the land here until I stood well above it, surveying all that composed our world.
Yeah, that was a golf course perched below us. Who knew?
View of Shek O, the small beach town from our precipice as we wound into the next peaks.
I was above the clouds, above the world... Or at least distinct from the world out there where I lived... I wasn't in Hong Kong. I was peering over it. Distinct entities, for once. This moment of supreme revelation happening as the wind blew my hair back in a smattering fashion, of course.
We eventually go all the way back down to Shek O, which was a strange, run-down, but very charming beach town, obviously hurting at the moment due to higher technology alternatives in the region compounded with it not being beach season here. You would have noticed that same charm, that same earnestness in its cadence of everyday Chinese people, humble in their indentured servitude as a town fully bent on tourism that wasn't there. Still, even then, you could find God's beauty hinging from every corroded overhang and empty seafood shack. It was lived. It was beautiful.
The longer that I've stayed here, the more I've come to appreciate places with this sort of charm. In Hong Kong, there's a huge infatuation with the modern, with the new immediately replacing the old, and accompanying that, writing over places with real history, real people. This was a place that avoided the "Hong Kong Robot Effect" and managed to still find its beach charm, somehow avoiding being swept under the same rug that led to the dismantling of some culture in favor of some sparkling shopping malls and illuminated Prada shops. These all have their advantages, I know, but for me, a balance of both is important. After all, one can't really learn a culture inside a marble-glossed, ultra-padded shopping center.
Sometimes, it's necessary to find that beach that's forgotten and take a stroll, peering out into the hazy distance, and remember that, even through a fog, we know there's always something worth finding. Even if it took a view from a dragon's back to really find.
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