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The eight thousand steps of Tian Mu Mountain

By Alexander James (chinadaily.com.cn)
Updated: 2011-06-03 13:35

I'd been in Fuyan one week when I met the father of a boy who was in Grade one Yong Xing, Middle school.

He was a friendly person and he knew some English so we were able to have a conversation with the help of pen and paper so we exchanged phone numbers and said our goodbyes.

The author (L) poses for a photo with his Chinese friends. [Photo provided to chinadaily.com.cn]?

He rang me at home about a week later and said he was going to take me to climb Tian Mu Mountain.I held some reservations in my mind as I didn't think I would be able to climb a mountain, maybe a hill!

The journey started at Yong Xing Middle school's front gate on a Friday afternoon, the weather was mild a little chilly, but otherwise bearable.

It was the fathers turn to take two other boys back to Lin An so we all got into his car and headed off.

The journey to Lin An is about 60 kilometres and would take us about 45 minutes. On the way we passed and saw all types of transport from three wheeled electric trikes and cars, three wheeled trucks and the ambiguous 'Blue Tractor'.

These machines are the workhorse of China, they are noisy, don't seem to have lights, are constantly on the roads with loads that defy gravity, but are accepted as part of the Chinese culture.

Horns constantly blare, 'The Voice of the Car', the poetic way that people describe the honking and beeping of the vehicle both large and small. It seems if 'The Voice of the Car' is as necessary as the air we breathe, as it lets people know we are approaching intersection, corners, blind spots etc.

I noticed a man with two water buffalo walking beside the road as if on a Sunday outing, and then around the bend about 200 hundred ducks were scurrying across the road as if they were encaged in a magical net that held them tightly together.

By the time we had arrived in Lin An one of the boys had rung his parents to see if it was okay to come with us to the mountain, this turned out for the best as it gave the fathers' son some company.

By this time the Sun was getting lower in the sky and we were in for a surprise at our destination which would take us to the bottom of the mountain. My friend seemed unsure which way to go as he had to stop and ask some locals directions on three occasions.

By this time we arrived it was dark and really cold, the restaurant, guest house we stopped at seemed closed as did the whole village.

Next minute someone came outside and greeted us and told us to come in and they would prepare us a meal and give us accommodation for the night.

One thing in China the people are very friendly and go out of their way to help each other and they love to eat and talk. Being a foreigner in this part of the World makes the experience even more special for them.

The next morning their kindness showed again with the cooking of a hearty breakfast and the provision of supplies for our forthcoming ascent to the top of the mountain.

The owner of the restaurant gave us a lift to the entrance of the first of about 8,000 steps that we would have to take over the next 3 to 4 hours..WOW!!

The first part of the journey started with a gradual slope over steps that are made of stones which can accommodate at least two people abreast. It was quite cold and the boys were starting to worry about what it was they were getting themselves into, even the father was pondering his fate, I had some doubts, but I was determined to see it through.

Going through tall trees and semi rainforest vegetation, there are signs telling people not to light fires or smoke cigarettes, there are penalties for doing this, you can see why, as it is very steep with lot of vegetation making it very inaccessible.

Along the way there are signs telling you about the history of the area both in English and Chinese. It had long been a path to the top of the mountain, made by Buddhist Monks over 1,000 years ago or more.

About an hour into the journey the young boys were exhausted and it seemed as if we would have to go back down, after a rest, nourishment and more importantly encouragement we all started off again. Admittedly the steps were step and never ending, but once at the top of a set of them there was somewhere to rest and take in the view. Also along the way there are ponds with crystal clear water in them and old stone bridges built in the Tang Dynasty. This seemed to give us all the driving force to make our destination.

One can only wonder about the time when the Monks used to come up here without modern help and probably not much in the way of provisions and help if they had got injured, but respect their place, respect their commitment and will to achieve a higher dream.

Around every corner there are nooks, crannies and caves, some of which monks long ago lived and meditated in, these places are well documented and enshrined for visitors to contemplate the reason for being.

In the distant we could hear voices, the voices seemed very close but they were never in reach as they seemed to drift off to right angels or suddenly the voices jutted quickly in a circular motion.

I seemed to float at one stage along the path as if lifted above those steps, it did not worry me any more, I thought I was dreaming it was the most magical thing that had happened to me in a long time.

Those eight thousand steps no longer existed, I knew I had achieved more than most, I was humbled, and yet I needed more, but to get right to the top the ultimate goal would be another journey, something that would need more planning, something that me and the boys' father knew we had to do, go to 'The Place of the Pig' - the highest part of the mountain!!!


The author teaches English in Shaoxing, East China's Zhejiang province.

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