A couple of weekends ago, good old 彭智文 asked me if I wanted to climb 高黎贡山 (Gaoligong Mountain), probably because I’ve been asking since we arrived. It’s that
massive majestic mountain range making daily guest appearances on my instagram. All
of the American 腾冲 fellows, and most
of the Chinese fellows signed on, making us a fit group of nine hikers. Early
Saturday morning we stuffed into a van and rode to the base of the mountain.
It was a difficult morning of steps, steeps, stairs, and
rocks. My pack was really heavy, which was obviously a disadvantage; I’d
brought clothes for sleeping, clothes for the next day, a bathing suit, a towel, 10 bananas, two dozen unidentified stone-fruit, a few liters of
water, dates, pumpkin seeds, keys, glasses, tp—a hundred too many things. Though it was a never-ending slow slog, everyone was mutually and
simultaneously pumped, supportive, and exhausted. Finally we got to the top where we found a windy field, prime
for photo-taking.
After some food and rest, we spent five hours trying to ride gravity, but mostly falling,
down the mountain. Although it was easier, I
was on a mission to finish; around 10am I had felt the first pangs of a
dehydrated, caffeine-deprived headache, and by the afternoon, it was a fully-developed,
skull-splitting agony. Never skimp on water: lesson learned.
Once we reached our paradise of clean beds and hot food, we
turned right back around and hiked to a natural hot spring. It had been a long
day, but we soldiered down the path nonetheless. The sun was setting when we
crossed a bridge over a waterfall to a shallow temperate plash. It was the size of a swimming pool, and the water was clear and warm—a gentle end to our arduous
feat.
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