Cloud Chasing – hiking China’s peaks追云：徒步中国的高峰

I’m not a meteorologist, but in my travels I’ve noted that China is a fairly foggy country, whether from mist or pollution or some combined miasma. Traditional Chinese paintings frequently depict dark green mountaintops rising out of swirling clouds. But it’s pretty clear that these artists painted a selective view of the scenery. Many of the famous peaks in China – Taishan, the Yellow Mountains, Emeishan – are frequently shrouded by clouds. The majestic views promised by guidebooks more often than not turn out to be obscured by gray. Hiking on a clear day guarantees good views. Hiking into the fog is risky, but nothing is more spectacular than making it above the sea of clouds.

Though I have friends who are cloudchasers, so to speak, when I’ve hiked in China I never considered the weather or expected a sea of clouds. This is just as well, or else I would have been disappointed by a recent hike to Emeishan in which I was submerged in the sea of clouds the entire time, covered in a fine mist for two days in which the fog never relented, not even at the wind-blown, sub-zero summit. When I hiked Jizushan in Yunnan, however, the sea of clouds saved the day.

Yunnan’s notoriously exotic microbiota had given me a serious stomach ache by the time we reached Jizushan. With the summit well above 3000 meters, I could feel the altitude every step of the way. My feet felt like lead, and my head pounded from the lack of oxygen. By the time we reached the top, it was already dark. We stayed overnight in a monastery on the summit. A friendly guide at the local restaurant recommended I eat raw garlic to make my stomach feel better. I didn’t want to seem rude, so I obligingly ate several cloves.

I spent the entire night tossing and turning, feeling the garlic burning in my stomach and struggling to breathe in the thin air. In the morning we bundled up in the few clothes we had and stepped out to explore the temple on the top of the mountain. The summit was very quiet, sounds seemingly dampened by the thick fog. Over one precipice, I saw the outlines of mountains in the distance begin to emerge. Slowly, the clouds began to dissipate, revealing our perch on the top of the mountain above one sea of clouds and beneath another. This layer stayed open for less than ten minutes, during which we ran around to each wall of the monastery to look out over the mountain. The view was truly spectacular, and well worth any discomfort along the way. Before long, the fog closed in again, reminding us that chasing views in clouds is a matter of blind luck.

我不是一个气象学家， 但是在我的旅行中我发现中国是一个相当多雾的国家，无论是由于雾气还是污染，亦或是一些混合瘴气。传统的中国画经常描绘深绿色的山顶从缭绕的云层中冉冉升起。但很明显，这些艺术家们画的是一处选择性的景象。中国许多著名的山峰经常被云层所笼罩，例如泰山、黄山、峨眉山。旅行指南中所承诺的壮丽景色到最后经常会被灰蒙的天色所遮蔽。选择在天气晴朗的日子徒步旅行才能确保好的视野。成雾的徒步旅行是有风险的，但却没有什么比使它呈现在云海之上显得更加壮观的了。

虽然我有一些喜欢追云的朋友，但话说回来，当我徒步在中国，我从来没有考虑过天气或者预期过云海。其实这样也很好，否则我会一直处于失望之中，因为在最近一次的峨眉山徒步旅行中，我一直没淹没在云海中，并且被笼罩在从未消散的浓雾中长达两天之久，甚至在有厉风且零度以下的山顶上也是如此。然而，当我徒步在云南的鸡足山时，云海却改变了我的一天。

当我们到达鸡足山时，云南众所周知的奇异的微生物丛使我感到严重的胃不适。山顶在3000米以上的地方，我每走一步都能感到海拔在上升。

我全靠脚步的引导，我的大脑已经因为缺氧而崩溃了。我们到达山顶的时候天都已经黑了。我们在山顶上的一间寺庙里过了夜。当地餐馆里的一个友好的向导推荐我吃生大蒜，这样也许能让我的胃感觉舒服一点。我不想自己显得粗鲁，所以我乖乖地吃了数粒大蒜。

我整个晚上都在辗转反侧，感觉大蒜正在我肚子里燃烧，于是我一直挣扎着呼吸稀薄的空气。第二天早上我们捆上了我们少有的几件衣服，然后出门去探索这座位于山顶上的寺庙。山顶上非常安静，而且由于浓雾，所以看起来非常潮湿。在一处悬崖上，我看到远处山的轮廓开始显现。慢慢地云层开始消散，展露出我们在山顶上的栖息之地，它处于云海的上下之间。这种分层保持了不到十分钟，在这期间我们跑遍了寺庙的围墙去观看山峰。景色真的非常壮观，顿时觉得一路上的不适也都值得了。不久，迷雾再次涌现云层闭合，这也提醒我们追云是一种纯粹的运气。