Which is pretty easy in Taiwan. It's like a big mountain sticking out of the ocean.
So, I've revealed before that I have a weakness for stairs - confronted with the option to climb and see the world from above, I do. Now, I have another weakness.
Waterfalls. Man, water spraying off a cliff, diving into a pool, and then bouncing along a stream - bliss. And when I found a trail in a province that I could get to via an old coal train, with not one, not two, but three waterfalls on it (and a fourth on the train line for good measure), I was in.
The forecast was mediocre, but it was warm. So I packed up my backpack, and I took an Uber into the mountains. I know, I know, I'll take the train later. The 40 minute Uber was just $20!
After the non-English-speaking driver and I passed a few buildings, and some crossing guards, after just highway, I figured I was roughly in the right place. And I was right!
Jingtong had the train museum (I just took pictures of the figures in the picture window), various booths and stalls, and my first view of a lantern flight. Pingxi is the only place in Taiwan that allows these four-foot paper lanterns to be lit and float away. (Which kinda makes sense - they eventually come back down and generate some sad, wet clumps of paper.) But, writing the blessings and wishes then sending them off into the sky is a beautiful sentiment, so I helped a family take pictures of their hopes and dream rise up and get carried away in the light breeze.
Of course, this happens on the train tracks, between the roughly hourly departures.
I had bought tickets (potentially three of them, because he said a number that I thought was thirty, so I held up three fingers, and ended up paying 60NT ($2), but getting three pieces of paper.
I had just enough time to walk down to the "lover's bridge" to see the mass of bamboo tubes that had more prayers and wishes on them. There is a lot of hope to express around here.
I got on the train with a few people, but not the masses I would encounter later. I decided to sit in the front car with the conductor so I could see our journey.
I was soon joined my a man with a Lions hat and his partner. There were some clear signs, in Chinese and English, above the conductor's door that said to not speak to him or disturb him. Those were dutifully ignored. So you won't be able to see the picture I took of him, since he asked (with my new Lions friend translating) for me not to post it.
What I am going to show is this great "key" that they use to signify who has the right of way on a strength of these one-lane tracks. There are a few stations where two trains can pass, but between them, it's bad news bears if they came across each other. So each stretch of track has a big metal loop with a symbol on it that represents the stretch. When two trains met at a station in the middle, they traded keys so they could be assured no other trains were on the track.
A pretty cool system.
It was also nice making friends with the conductor because he would point out all the waterfalls along the tracks and slow down for me. I think he was supposed to blow the whistle in the tunnels, but we can pretend he did that for me too. Before I got off, we traded pictures - I took one of him, and he took one (or two or three...) of me! Besties!
So, my plans were working fine. After getting off the train, I was operating under the assumption that the written directions I had downloaded from a pair of blogs would get me to these waterfalls, then take a not-quite-sanctioned shortcut to get to back to the train tracks and Shifen Waterfall.
The part where I followed the documented trail was amazing! (Uh, oh, foreshadowing -guess you'll have to keep reading to find out what happens along the UNdocumented trail.) First, there was a short walk back along the train tracks, passing a stand selling pretty fancy sounding coffee but looking like a lemonade stand that kids would put up.
Then, there were the ten stories of stairs. I was expecting that - both the blogs had warned me - so I took my time and read about two different kinds of ferns that they had posted signs about along the trail. Prehistoric plants are pretty cool.
The first of the handful of people I met on the trail was an old man carrying a giant bundle of bamboo down the mountain. I had read somewhere that this was a path for transportation as well - impressive to say the least.
It leveled off quickly; essentially, once I reach the right altitude, the stairs just stopped and it was a bit of rolling trail. The most difficult part was dancing around the puddles; other hikers had laid down bamboo over some, which was a balancing act, or steps of stones. I did one slide down a bank while trying to weasel along it to avoid a puddle, but came out mostly clean. Along that stretch at least.
I had hopped over quite a few puddles when I started to hear the rush of water. And, turning a corner, I could begin to see the first, Hegu Waterfall, from afar. There was a viewing platform, and the trio of hikers I had passed caught up to me while I was catching that one.
Next up, there were two awesome pedestrian rope suspension bridges that had a fun swing to them. A babbling brook that I walked along side. Birds flitting between the trees and boulders. Idyllic.
It was the second waterfall that I was excited for, since I had heard you could climb up into a cave behind it. Some steps carved into stone led up a little further into the woods (or is it jungle?) and, instead of the distant view of the previous Hegu, this Motain Waterfall started immediately spraying me in the face.
I encountered another couple at the base, setting up a camera on a timer to take a picture. I motioned that I could take it for them; I'm not positive if it got lost in translation, or if they actually wanted a picture with all three of us - but that's what they got! I did eventually take pictures of the two of them, and they returned the favor.
I let them continue on, and I climbed along the trail until there was a branch that headed back in toward the waterfall. I slid down a big boulder without THAT much mud getting on me, but crouching over and walking along the crevice that ran to the waterfall definitely got my backpack a little dirty, and my hands too as I continued to try to keep my sneakers from getting water- (or mud-) logged.
Eventually, the water was coming down right in front of me. Giant drips were falling off the edge of the cave - I was not close enough to to actually reach out, though. I was happy hunkered back, watching the water cascade down, then continue on to its wherever.
I danced back out among the puddles, and took a less steep route back to the trail.
The final fall was a stair climb away! They were metal with a railing, so not hard to scale.
And when I got to Pipadong Waterfall and the erstwhile end of the trail, a crowd of middle schoolers with a few adults were there.
Not sure if it was that I was the only white person I'd encountered that day, or the fact that I was making a bit of a fool of myself trying to climb on some slightly-too-tall rocks in the pool below the waterfall, but I was getting a lot of stares.
One of the men told me that up a trail by the fall was a better viewpoint. He was right; probably didn't need to climb on those rocks.
He also didn't let me cross the sign to get closer to the fall. Too dangerous. When I asked him how to get to the train, he said go left.
Before there were any turning options, I followed the path up a few steep hills. A knotted rope helped me up one rock face, and a pair of rope handles let me scramble up another. A nice dose of adventure with my waterfalls!
Well, I guess the next hour was a good bit of adventure. The blogs had mentioned a "roadway" that they "crisscrossed" then a long flight of slippery steps that went down, then going over a red bridge and turning right.
Well, I was definitely walking along a roadway. Then I went down some very steep stairs - great! On the right track!
Now, there was a bridge, but it was kinda orangish. The fence close to it was red? And that's kinda when the instructions stopped. "The railroad tracks are just a little farther along."
Yeah... Never saw any railroad tracks. I walked along the road to the right for half a mile before asking an old lady for Shifen. She waved me on and held up one finger.
I spent the next ten minutes of walking trying to decipher that finger. One kilometer? One more road? One minute?
That more rural, unlined road ran into a more populated one. Such a main road, in fact, that there was a bus stop! And on the sign, just two stops away, was the Shifen Falls!
Perfect. I didn't really look at the bus schedule, figuring I might be able to wave it down if I was between stops. And I didn't want to deal with how to pay for it. So I started walking. Along the highway.
I felt very odd, with my backpack and camera, not really hiking anymore, and encountering a car once every few minutes. Maybe a quarter mile down the road, I found the next bus stop.
I would be at the falls in no time if the next stop came up as quick as that one! Sadly, that was not the case.
After a week and a half of negotiating with my family about where to go and how to get there, it was refreshing to just decide to walk and face the consequences later. I didn't have to justify my decision to anyone, and I could just go. I had no one to blame if my feet got sore, and no one to help if I got lost.
But, probably a mile or two later, I found the entrance to the park with the falls. I had some streaks of crusted mud on my jeans, but I was victorious.
These falls were definitely the most impressive. A mini Niagara Falls, someone on the train had called them. Sure enough, a horseshoe had been carved out by the water falling down a hundred feet or two.
And there were stalls! With food! I had squid balls, bubble milk tea, and some fried tofu while I observed the waterfall and observed the people. If there is reincarnation, and I have to come back as an animal, it would be pretty posh to be a dog in Taipei. I saw lots of random dog head sticking out of purses, as well as some of the fattest chihuahuas I've ever seen. On the other hand, it might be too cushy of a life.
After my bubble tea and subsequent bathroom visit (there is a lot of liquid in those!), I walked to the viewing platform directly opposite the falls.
Would it be too intimate to tell you that I got tears in my eyes walking out from the trees into the full view of the falls? Perhaps it was the uncertainty of the previous hour culminating in success. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Easter, and I'd been feeling God's presence. Or perhaps just a strong wind with a bit of dust.
On my way back to the suspension bridge at the start of the waterfall park, the hourly train came chugging toward us on the rail bridge. Ah well, guess I'll have to burn a lot of time once I get back to the station, I thought.
Well, I followed the crowds and walked. And walked. And walked. It was two kilometers back to the station! Good thing I didn't think I'd be able to catch a train that was twenty minutes away.
Finally, the crowd congealed around a few old streets around the train station. Every ten seconds another paper lantern was rising along the tracks. Once again, the amazing food options called to my pretty satiated stomach. I was able to hold off until - how appropriate, eggs!
Well, pancake eggs filled with custard (the better option) and chocolate. But hey, didn't need the Easter bunny - just an old man at a roadside stall.
And ahead, finally, was the train station. One ticket to the end of the line, where the trains back into Taipei left from. I picked up a few postcards, including one with a MasterCard symbol, and joined the packed crowd on the platform.
Everyone wedged in for the forty minute ride to the end of the line. I was hoping to see if my conductor friend was the one driving the train, but I was just lucky enough to partially see out the window, much less make my way up to the lead car.
So I settled in (as much as possible when standing) and watched the green world fade and buildings start cropping up where the trees used to be. A short stop in Ruifang, and it was another standing ride back to Taipei main station.
I found the machine that sold ride tokens, and bought the metro ride amount to get back to my hotel. I was expecting a paper card like in DC and ended up with a poker chip.
I watched the entrance to the MRT station for a minute or two, but the lack of any place to insert the token made me ask a very pleasant, English-speaking info desk attendant who told me that I just needed to tap it, then insert it at the final station. Easy peasy.
Dinner was some microwaved dumplings and a yogurt. Don't worry - I have plenty of food pictures for later this week!
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