Are We There Yet?

The other day, our group went to a mountain range outside of Beijing to go hiking. Our teacher planned the trip for us and therefore chose the mountain we were to climb. Having not seen this mountain, we had no idea what we were in for.

If I implied that the Endless Staircase was a challenge, I am now willing to eat my words. After two hours on a tour bus, we arrived in the mountains, a beautiful spectacle of nature. As we climbed up a winding, narrow road in our oversized bus, we kept passing perfectly good mountains. However, these were not to be the mountain chosen for us. As we drove on, each mountain seemed bigger than the last. I have to say, I started to feel anxious.

Finally, we approached our mountain and wasted no time climbing the hill to our first ascent. It began with a steep staircase of high steps straight up. These steps were basically rocks--- narrow and unstable. It wasn't long before my rear end reminded me it was still back there.

We made it to the top, and my first thought was, "Well that wasn't too bad. Are we there already?" Not even close. The next half an hour was more of the same, steps and paths going up and down through this range. Finally we came to what I called Base Camp One. Here an old man had a hose coming out of the stream and putting water into a natural hole made of rocks. The water was ice cold and he had created a natural ice cooler in which he placed drinks and cucumbers.

Exhausted, dehydrated and sweating like pigs, we begged him for one of his cold drinks. The water was the cheapest at four kuai and all drinks went up from there, as high as seven kuai a piece. By Chinese standards this was highway robbery.

"Tai gui le!!!" I exclaim, making it clear to him that I am aware that he is taking advantage of our desperate state. He knew he had the market cornered on cold drinks, as there wasn't much civilization anywhere close. He immediately responded with an earnest defense of his inflated prices, yelling at me that drinks from the man at the top of the mountain were four times as expensive.

In no real position to argue this point or take the risk of dying of dehydration on the way up, I reluctantly paid four kuai for my water but let him know I was extremely disgruntled by mumbling Chinese words of shame and dismay under my breath. He took my money and looked the other way. We apparently were not going to be "pengyou's" (friends).

After we refueled our tanks with the most expensive water in China, we trecked onward. Let me appeal to your imagination by explaining that the next four hours was the equivalent of doing the stairmaster for four straight hours without a break. The mountain was majestic, beautiful, breathtaking and truly awesome. My knees, thighs and calves were achy, sore, cramping and screaming for me to relent. By this time, we had resigned ourselves to the fact that our teacher had sent us here as punishment for speaking English when we were supposed to be speaking Chinese. At one point we could hear laughter on the path ahead of us and assumed it must be the angels in heaven. We'd climbed so far and so high, surely we had to be close.

After making our way through gorgeous paths and treacherous passes, we came to Base Camp Two. This was basically a small cliff from which you could look out over the whole range. We could see for miles. I have never been so high up in my life. We stopped for a picnic lunch and took some pictures before setting off again.

At this point the group went on without me. I decided to rest awhile longer, taking the time to have another go at a "spiritual" moment. I laid down on the cliff, which was about one square meter of space with shear drops on three sides. I closed my eyes for a bit, taking in the peace of the mountainscape, then decided to read my book. After only a few paragraphs though, I noticed I was being swarmed by mosquitos. Annoyed, I figured one must have discovered me and gone back to the entire mosquito military to announce the need for guerilla attack.

Swatting away, I looked down to find a giant spider had also decided to climb a "mountain"---- me! He was running up my shirt! I screamed, threw my book, which almost went over the cliff, shook him off and jumped up onto my feet. Sighing, I thought, so much for mountain zen, and packed up my stuff to catch up with the group.

After about another hour, I met with them at Base Camp Three. We still had not reached the top and many had gone ahead without us, so we rested and decided to go back down. The way down was brutal on the knees but much faster. When we made it back to Base Camp One, we found our old friend, the Don Corleone of water bottles and cucumbers, and this time gladly paid for his goods. Later the rest of the group joined us and we rested, played cards and devoured the rest of our rations.

On the way back to the bus, a torrential downpour moved in and soaked us all to the bone. Many complained but I was relieved to feel the cool water on my skin. I took my time going back taking in the miracle of this thunderstorm in the mountains. I felt blessed to have the chance to experience both the hot, sunny, clear blue sky as well as the cool foggy rain storm in this magnificent place.

Although I felt this hike in every bone and muscle in my body, it was the greatest physical challenge of my life and I was proud of my ability to do so well. I climbed a mountain in China. In the course of my life, I have smoked cigarettes, consumed enough alcohol to keep the enitre German army warm in the winter, eaten some of the most unhealthy food America has to offer, maintained ridiculous sleeping habits, and smoked enough pot to make Cheech choke with surprise. But I climbed a mountain in China.

I sweat out every bad thing I've ever put in my body and returned to sea level renewed, cleansed and ready to start my life over. At thirty, I climbed a mountain in China, purified my soul and thanked the gods for the gift of my life and for the chance to try again.