The High Trail

I’m always been a wanderer. It’s a trait my friends note but just accept with a shrug and the nonchalant comment of, “You always eventually wander back.”

I have traveled in six continents now and in some significantly remote locations, yet I have rarely seen such untouched beauty as what I found in Tiger Leaping Gorge.

For two days I hiked nothing more than a goat trail weaving along the curves of the mountainside. Hundreds of feet below me was the frothing green headwater of the Yangtze River punching its way through the rocky terrain. On the other side of the ravine, lead grey rocks jettisoned into the sky forming razor sharp peaks rolling in succession. Streaks of sunlight punctured the cumulus clouds, spotlighting the terraced farms tumbling down the hillside into the river below the trail.

We took the high trail halfway between the rushing waters gathered in the fold of the gorge and the sky.

One of the dangers of taking the high trail of Leaping Tiger Gorge is just finding the path. The beginning is simply a dirt foot-trail cutting passed an old middle school before disappearing into the hills. Another challenge is staying on the trail. It has no handrails or freshly painted sighs like you would find in the United States. Here, nature is just left alone except for a scattering of spray-painted boulders pointing the direction to the upcoming guesthouses. Where boulder makers weren’t presents, we followed the fresh footprints of earlier trekkers in the sandy dirt. At every bend or fork we would examine the rocks and grounds for something as simple as a faded outline of an arrow to know which way to go.

At times the trail was little more than a slightly flattened stretch of rocks a foot from the sheer mountainside and a hundred foot drop. Other times it took on an element of Heidi as we walked in endless hills with impressive peaks towering above us.

Our only company on the trail was locals on donkey-back, farmers, other trekkers, and the occasional goat. On the morning of the second day, my friend and I did not see another person for close to two hours. That stretch was the most alone either of us have ever been in China.

Besides the indescribable beauty of one of the last pristine natural spaces in China. Tiger Leaping Gorge had another unique feature: the silence. Only the wind whipping through the gorge and rustling the tall grass provided constant accompaniment for our trek. Occasionally, the rushing rapids of the river below or the callings of a happily munching goat broke into the wind’s auditory dominance.

In my life when hectic schedules and impossible deadlines have me craving a sliver of peace, I will daydream of wandering through the serenity of Tiger Leaping Gorge.