◎ Warm Country Sunshine - Traveling and Cycling in Taiwan <2009-07-24>
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Warm Country |
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Sunshine |
By Nathan Godolphin |
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Traveling and Cycling in Taiwan |
Photos / Nathan Godolphin,
Wen-Jen Fan;
Vision Int'l
I was ready to be free – to ride with the wind, wrapped in my sunshine cape! For me, this trip was about letting go and riding with it. It was to be my last footloose adventure in Taiwan before returning to the UK.
n hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have said I was going to cycle ALL the way around the island. As the two-week window of opportunity approached, I began to think about my trip in more realistic terms. I had come to the conclusion that I was not fit enough to cycle all the way and there was just too much ground I wanted to cover.
Even up to the evening before, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going. As the trip unfolded, I cycled on three different bikes, on three days, in three very different locations. They were Sun Moon Lake, Guanshan and Jiji. This proved enough to satiate my urge to cycle, the sections on two self-propelled wheels part of a broader journey looping clockwise around central Taiwan.
Sun Moon Lake
Arriving by bus from Taipei, the calm stillness of Sun Moon Lake was a welcome departure from the throbbing noises enjoyed throughout the bus journey itself.
I found a little shop in Shuishe, a village located on the main road on the northwestern corner of the lake. The old owner was keen to arrange boat tickets and a hotel for me, but I insisted I just wanted a bike. The going rate for a standard “mountain bike-style” cycle is NT$400 per day. He even let me take it the night before, permitting me an early start around the lake the next day.
Bright and early, after a sandwich from a breakfast shop, I cycled up to the top of Mt. Maolan, 1,020 meters above sea level. That was supposed to be my warm-up, but it was such a nice trip in itself that I took longer than anticipated. I passed Japanese-style dormitories made of cypress, cycling up past fields of tea bushes on the hillsides. At one point I stopped for a break and was overcome by the silence, the stillness broken only by the almost imperceptible movement of insects, the twitching of leaves, and the pounding of my heart, for I’d pedaled too hard up the hill.
After looking out across the open peaks at the top, I zoomed back down a lot faster than I’d lumbered up. I took a different route, past a bamboo rock garden, ending up east of where I’d started, but on the same road.
Just over the road I glimpsed the lake’s turquoise waters. Wow! It was a sight I would see a lot of that day, but never tired of. From this point on, the lake was always there, to my right, sometimes viewed directly, sometimes seen flickering with reflected light through the trees. With blue skies and surrounding peaks mirrored in the glassy surface waters of the glistening lake, as I moved along there was always something new to look at.
My first proper stop was the large Wenwu Temple. This spot is a node of transient activity. I sat outside and watched with my back to a wall, eating a half-chicken with two plastic bags over my hands (as recommended by the lady who had sold it to me). Of course I went inside the temple too, and took some photos.
I continued following the road that circles the lake, suitably entitled Huantan (Lake-Circling) Road. It took me on a 30km-journey, rolling up and down, with some steep inclines and enjoyable descents. I sped down the latter with a smile the size of six houses, shooting past cars coming up the other way. While the road is not specifically for bikes, it wasn’t too busy at all, and car drivers were actually very considerate to cyclists like myself, bidding for round-the-lake glory!
My next major stop was the main Thao settlement of Yidashao, once known as Dehua Village. The Thao are a small native tribe that have long lived by the waters here. There were some good stalls and a range of snacks to try. I chose to refuel with the old faithful – noodles and vegetables.
Although Huantan Road is fine for cycling, I was looking forward to exploring the Yuetan (Moon Lake) Bike Path along part of the lake’s south shore, but it appeared to be closed at the time I visited. I had a little look. Judging by the damaged panels, the wooden boardwalk was probably about to be repaired, and I decided that with a little added caution it would be OK to explore.
| Roadside Delicacies Since bicycling makes one hungry, the many roadside stalls found along the way present welcome options for refueling. |
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The route took me along a path of fallen brown bamboo leaves. Clearly, nobody had been this way for a while. It was well worth going that way, perhaps mostly for the feeling of adventure and exploration. It took me past a campsite and through a group of students carrying dragon boats above their heads.
A long, dark tunnel led me back out to the open road, wider now, and daylight was beginning to fade. Pedaling fast, there was nevertheless enough time to see the lights coming on at dusk and the elaborate dragon sculpture at the serene Longfeng Temple on the way back to my starting point.
I may not have gone all the way around the island on my trip, but on this day my completion of the lake circuit was something I was more than pleased to have achieved!
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“My completion of the lake circuit was |
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something I was more than |
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pleased to have achieved” |
The east-west cross-island highways through Taiwan’s mountainous interior have always appealed to my heart and mind, so from Sun Moon Lake I headed north/northeast. The beautiful mountain roads were my destination, and I took the bus to Puli, Wushe and further north to Cuifeng, the last bus stop on the western side of Taiwan’s Central Cross-Island Highway. The air was raw, sharp with the altitude, and there were no more buses. From there, I got a lift from some friendly locals up National Highway No. 14 and on to the snowy slopes of Hehuanshan, standing as high as 3,416 meters above sea level. I was cold but happy up there in the thin, fresh air.
Ah, the mountain country, where my spirit soars! I was footloose and free, and everything was working out well. Next morning, my new companions and I went to see the formidable “sea of clouds” from Dayuling. Clouds floated and settled, happily trapped between mountain ridges – the scene framed by big old-growth trees. Not stopping long, I continued along the eastern part of the Central Cross-Island Highway, down through variable climatic zones and around endless winding bends, traveling with some people I’d met passing though Dayuling (the place is not so much a town as a shop or two and a policeman). I was dropped off at Tianxiang, at the western end of Taroko Gorge, where I was intent on stopping for a hike or two. With the mountains guiding the water down to the sea, there were plenty of places to marvel at river-cut gorges.
The city of Hualien was my next stop, if only a brief one. I was there in order to get a bus down the East Coast Highway (National Highway No. 11) and enjoy the dramatic views all the way down to Taitung. Small green and orange fishing boats struggled out to sea as the waves crashed in. Deep ocean blues were complimented by the greens of verdant land, roamed slowly by water buffalo, making for the perfect picture of timeless tradition. Flat rice-paddy farmland stretched out amidst the mighty jagged mountains falling down into the sea. The horizon opened up across the ocean, palms and sunned grasses dancing in the foreground.
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Deep ocean blues were complimented |
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by the greens of verdant land, |
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roamed slowly by water buffalo |
From Taitung’s new train station I took the late train back toward the north to Guanshan, which lies in the picturesque East Rift Valley, not knowing anything about the place or where I’d be staying. I arrived at 10:54pm, but still managed to find a lovely, reasonably priced room.
Guanshan
Guanshan was the first place I stayed for longer than one night. There was something very calm and unspoilt about it. And for me, the bright, clear blue skies brought that out in everything I looked at.
I had heard that there was a popular bike path here that encircles the town, but I wasn’t prepared for the number of bike-rental outlets nestled just behind the town. I hired a bike for the day — until 5pm — for an extremely reasonable NT$80. I stopped at a little place at the side of the road for some refreshing custard apples before heading any further.
Guanshan Park is a great place for a leisurely ride around picturesque ponds reflecting majestic fluffy-white clouds. “This place is wonderful,” I thought to myself. It is laid-back and leisurely, a place for all ages, and the relaxed pace suited me fine that day. The park even has little hills to see the town from — not to mention the mountains in the distance. With its abundance of simple, straightforward character, Guanshan proved to be a real gem of a place.
From Guanshan I got a very early morning bus to Lidao, nestled high in the mountains. It was my first stop on the Southern Cross-Island Highway — a road I really wanted to explore. Lidao exuded a feeling of a simple — but by no means easy — way of life. A group of schoolchildren, accompanied by their teacher, were out of the classroom on some sort of trip. With beaming faces, they shouted what sounded to me like “mi-hoo-mi-so,” which apparently means “hello” in the local Bunun aboriginal language.
From there I was driven past massive landslides and huge trees, the occasional red one standing out against the green.
At Tianchi, an amazing place to hike, I headed off the road and into the hills. I was accompanied only by monkeys crashing and screeching about up in the trees.
Tired and aching from carrying my heavy pack, I got a ride to Baolai, where I savored some delicious and very much needed huifan (beef mixed with vegetables and garlic over rice) from the first place I saw. It hit the spot nicely. With a full stomach, I left Baolai at 7 pm, arriving in Kaohsiung at 9.30 pm. I managed to get the 10 pm train to Chiayi, which was a suitable point to call it a day.
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Guanshan Park is a great place for |
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a leisurely ride around picturesque ponds |
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reflecting majestic fluffy-white clouds |
Jiji
I hadn’t been following a set plan, but I had one more place I wanted to cycle. Jiji was my third and final cycling destination. I’d heard about the Jiji Branch Railway Line and wanted to check it out. From Chiayi I looked out the train window at vast flat plains at sunset, all the way up into the hills to Ershui. Ershui has its own cycle path, but I wanted to cycle somewhere a little further inland, seeing as how much I like the mountains.
Jiji had a quaint station, but it was a little underwhelming, though it proved easy to find a bike to rent. Mine cost NT$100 for the day. I got on the bike path, which starts just to the right as you exit the train station, and followed along the right side of the road. Soon enough, once again, I found that the reward was in making a little extra effort just to get out that little bit further.
The path was for the most part easy to follow and unfolded more and more pleasantly, taking me into unexpected places along quiet roads, passing betel-nut trees, giant banana leaves, and palm trees. Though some of the road markings are in need of repainting, the route is well signposted and generally very easy to follow. It even has helpful distance markers at various intervals. With the sun shining brightly, it was actually a really pleasant 10km ride — especially since there were sights to discover along the way — the roof remains of Wuchang Temple, for example, which years ago collapsed into an interesting position during the great earthquake of September 21st, 1999.
To get home, all I had to do was take a bus to Taichung and then a bus to Taipei. Each was only NT$80! It was great to see Taipei again, on the horizon. And it was such a nice feeling, reuniting with friends.
At each moment of my journey I didn’t want to be anywhere else. At each I was experiencing new stimulations and new thoughts. I love the self-powered freedom of exploration that cycling in new places brings, and this trip affirmed that. At a manageable speed I was able to take in the surroundings in all their beauty. I stopped when I felt like it, and whizzed down hills with the wind in my face.
