Have you ever had an idea and everything went just as you had planned?
And as a result, all those involved had a great time?
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, I had an idea.
This little tale I am spinning needs a dose of reality.
Last week, while contemplating of beginning of fall break, I had an inspirational thought.
(Inspirational might be a little bit too strong of a word.)
Jake has been wanting to go up to Hehuanshan to take nighttime photos. At 11,207 feet, it is not the highest mountain in Taiwan, but it is the most accessible. Without stopping, we can be there in three hours. While not a long trip from our home in Taichung, the last part of the drive is arduous. Full of switchbacks, hairpin curves, and narrowness, its a road best driven in dry, clear daylight.
So here is where my slightly wacky, yet adventurous idea came in. Why not leave early afternoon, drive up, and arrive around sunset? Jake could take his night sky pictures and Carl could enjoy looking through his telescope. When we got tired, our big eight person passenger van would adequately accommodate as our "tent". Then at 5:56 the next morning, I would be at the right location for an amazing sunrise.
My partners agreed to this plan. The following afternoon, we packed the van with extra clothes, blankets, pillows, and food. And flashlights, of course.
Everything was going according to my plan.
We stopped for an early supper at the Purple House.
If I ever owned a restaurant, I would want it to be like this place. First of all, it is built onto the side of a mountain. I know it has at least three levels, because that's how far down we went before we finally found people!
The name of the place says it all. Purple was everywhere!
This was our table. Inside was a mosaic with different colored pebbles, beads, and painted wood discs. It was very summery except for the small collection of brown leaves scattered throughout.
It was quite an eclectic collection of this and that, but oddly, it all worked together to create a relaxing peaceful dining atmosphere.
Naturally, the menu was all in Chinese, but between Carl, Jacob, and the owner who spoke a little English, we were able to order three dishes.
After our last meal in civilization, we continued. As we neared the top, the clouds began to descend into the valleys. I was delighted when Jake sighted a rainbow nestled between two peaks.
The closer we got to the top, the colder it got. When we left our apartment, the temperature was somewhere in the nineties. Last time we were in this area in October, the temperatures had been in the fifties, so we packed sweatshirts and long pants. I actually was ready for a break from the extraordinarily hot temperatures we had been experiencing.
Soon after, we reached the peak, but visibility was nonexistent due to the clouds.
We hiked up to one of our favorite places, but even the closest peak was shrouded in grayness. The wind briefly opened a window for Jacob to see the highest peak and the old ski lodge and youth hostel where Carl and I had stayed several years ago.
And much to my surprise, and dismay, it was much colder than I had anticipated.
This was the coldest temperature we had experienced in a long time. For my American friends that's about 47 degrees Fahrenheit. So within the space of an afternoon, we dropped almost 50 degrees!
I wasn't really worried about not being able to see the stars. It was normal for the mountain to be overtaken by the clouds, but I expected them to roll away and during the night lift, revealing the majestic night sky. That is what has happened on each of our previous trips.
We checked out several of the parking options and settled in to wait out the clouds. Did I mention it was cold? Did I mention how the wind whipped through the mountain? At times during the night, the van was rocking in the wind.
We had chairs. We had all the necessary items to brew nice, hot cups of tea, but none of us had any desire to leave the relative warmth of the van. At one point, we braved the cold, wind, and moisture for a quick walk to the bathrooms, but other than that, we NEVER left the van.
And even though we were on the top of a secluded mountain, we were rarely alone. All throughout the night cars and scooters kept pulling into the parking lot. Some stayed for a while. Others did not.
Our most interesting visitors were group of college age guys. I had just awoken from a little catnap when they pulled into the parking lot on scooters. Even though they could clearly see our van, they assumed they were the only humans in the vicinity. After several minutes of shouting and laughing, they climbed the steps to the lookout platform. The next thing we knew, two of them has disrobed all the way down to their birthday suits! Fortunately, I was in the back of the van and couldn't see. Did I mention how bitterly cold it was? What in the world were they thinking?
After more loud raucous laughing and picture taking, they descended back to the parking lot. As they were leaving one's headlights illuminated Carl in the front seat. It was at this point the group suddenly realized, our van had a front row seat to their shenanigans and it wasn't empty.
Another loud group arrived at 3am. This group, however, left their clothes on.
Our other visitors were the semi trucks. I was shocked at the sight of the first. I didn't even think it was possible for a truck that size to travel on this road. Often the road goes down to one lane. During the day, cars pass each other with only inches to spare. But with the darkness, tourists leave and the truckers take advantage of the direct route. All night and from both directions these eighteen wheelers came.
We began noticing that the trucks coming from the east side of the island always stopped at the same spot just past the entrance of the parking lot. We wondered if they were checking their brakes before beginning the downhill journey. Or if perhaps they just thought that was a good place to rest a moment. Some trucks sat there idling for ten or fifteen minutes, while others paused for a minute or two. After observing this several times, we realized they always left after a truck passed them from the west side of the island. From that stopping point, they could see the headlights of other trucks ascending. That stretch in particular is very steep and windy, often collapsing into one lane. The drivers were waiting for other trucks to reach the peak before beginning their descent.
and civilization.
Being of small nature, I was able to stretch out and actually slept many hours. Each time I woke up I had two distinct thoughts. Has the fog lifted yet and whose idea was this anyways? Fortunately for me, I would quickly drift back to sleep. I am afraid Carl didn't fare quite as well. With each passing truck, and visitor, the lights and sound would awake him. The front driver seat also wasn't air tight. All night he could feel cold air blowing in from somewhere.
By 5 am, the parking lot was beginning to fill again. Obviously every one was coming in anticipation of a sunrise. But the clouds never lifted, the wind kept blowing, and occasional bursts of rain had dampened everything. There wasn't going to be any stars, no moon, and certainly no sunrise.
We left the parking lot at 5:56, about the time the sun was expected to make its grand entrance. Navigating the now wet roads and limited visibility, Carl pointed us back to civilization, and hopefully warmer and drier weather. It wasn't far away. Fifteen minutes later we were able able to see the surrounding peaks. The cold bitterness dissolved into a mere coolness.
So after sitting in the car for twelve hours, all we got was a little entertainment, a little sleep, and a small taste of winter.
No stars.
No moon.
No sunrise.
Whose idea was this, anyways?
