As I sat on the bus, winding its way through the mountain road towards Mt. Huangshan, a famous, holy mountain in Anhui province, I dreamed of the mountain as it is always depicted in art and literature: covered in peculiar rocks formations, surrounded by a sea of clouds and dotted with hundred-year-old pines. Beautiful and impressive.
Unfortunately, when I got halfway up Mt. Huangshan, I found the mountains covered by thick fog, not the romantic mists that stoke the imagination. My friend joked that the “smog” in Beijing had followed us to the mountain. I could barely see anything a few meters in front of me. With a map in hands, I followed the path with my friends. But the beautiful pines and rock formations that I had hoped to see were hidden by the heavy fog.
Soon the fog turned into droplets of rain. Eventually sheets of rains swept the mountains. The trees swung their soaked leaves and branches. Streams of rainwater sped down into the ravines. I did not look up to the sky because the heavy raindrops would strike my eyes.
Many tourists quickly sought shelter. But my friends and I decided to soldier on towards Xihaidaxiagu (Xihai gorge), a famous site in the mountains.
The gorge is steep. While following the narrow steps built along the cliff, I simply focused on each step I took. My hands tightly grasped the handrails. At some points while making my way to the gorge, I couldn’t even straighten my back but instead had to walk bent over, crablike. After trekking in the mountains for about an hour, I was completely worn out.
When we were almost to the bottom of the gorge, we rested for a little while. The rain did not give up much but a bit of the fog seemed to have scattered and the shapes of the mountains became clearer. I was drenched despite my raincoat. Standing in the rain, I looked up at the mountains, high and solid, with its grotesque rocks that appeared as if they had been hand carved. The trees grew straight out of the rocks. I suddenly felt weak. These mountains have been standing here for tens of thousands of years, witnessing the ebb and flow of the seasons, but I felt like just a tiny and transitory being in this world.
Away from the clamor of city life, I felt a kind of intimacy between myself and the mountains. At this moment, I no longer felt bothered by the rain or that I was soaked to the skin. I just wanted to stand there among the mountains and enjoy its splendor.