Thursday, 25th January
A very short but beautiful ride up Taroko Gorge.
I began the cycle up from Xincheng at 10 after buying train tickets to get me to Su’ao tomorrow and repacking my panniers with my freshly laundered clothes and a surplus of snacks to get me up the 12 mile climb.
As it transpired, it really wasn’t such a tough climb at all and my day ended somewhat abruptly when I reached the campground at 1 and didn’t really know what to do with myself.
The entrance to the park is marked with a gate and two roads which guide you in – one on the right side of the river, and a more winding narrower one on the left which looks like it’s sculpted directly out of the mountain rock.
The roads converge and things get increasingly more dramatic as you continue onward up the gorge. Roads which tunnel right through the rock, precarious overhangs, and just a small barrier separating you from plunging a long way down on to the pristine white marble below.
The road isn’t steep exactly. What’s worrying is the constant threat of falling rocks or being shunted by a bus or taxi of which there are many. I read stories about both those things happening to cyclists. Thankfully the traffic was slow, and the fact I was wearing a bike helmet gave me some confidence.
I rode with a young taiwanese cyclist for a while. He was very friendly and talkative and fast – his bike weighed about the same as my three water bottles. I lost him at Swallow Grotto, a one-way section which splits off from the newer main road taking you through a series of cave like tunnels and incredible striking marble features and the icy blue water flows rapidly at the base of the gorge.
I take my time going between the different viewpoints until I reach a pagoda where the roads reconnect. Cycling the gorge is the kind of an experience it’s hard to do justice with words or a camera. You can capture something of the scale of the place, the colour and the texture, but it won’t get you close to the actual feeling of cycling and seeing things unfold in front of you in real time.
Some more tunnels follow, a little more climbing but the road flattens out as I approach Heliu campground. Part of me was happy to get there early after being so used to crashing in some place at the end of the day mentally and physically exhausted as tended to be the way. But it was also strange not knowing what to do next.
There were 12 wooden platforms to camp on. One was already taken by a couple who looked like they had setup a fully functioning kitchen. I picked a spot on the corner of the top level with a clear view of the other side of the mountain.
I looked at my phone and guide book for a bit, then put up my tent and self-consciously put my possessions inside it as half a tour bus of tourists stared at me. I took a short walk down the road to a suspension bridge which crossed the gorge – but it was one of the trails here which you need a specific permit to take, so I went back to the campsite.
Back at my camp spot I talk to a sweet old Taiwanese guy with his wife who had said hi earlier in the day. I think they had come back to check on me – they gave me a bag of peanuts and a small piece of pineapple shortcake. He tells me he learnt english when he spent 6 months on Belgium and a couple of months in Germany. He explained how traditional Chinese is so complicated with it’s thousands of characters. He also said as a kid he ate cat, dog, and owl, which I don’t really know how to correctly respond to.
I ask if he knows any trails and he gives me a tip on one a mile and a half up the road – the Baiyang trail. I google it quickly and it looks good. But by this point it’s already 4.30 and will be more or less dark in an hour, I tell him perhaps i’ll take a look in the morning.
They head off and I head into my tent. As the light fades the temperature drops noticeably. i’ll be wearing all my layers tonight.
Map