Written by By Huang YunJu / Translated by Ken Kraynak

I’d already spent quite some time preparing to climb Mount Hehuan, but several days of torrential winter rains resulted in the trip being cancelled. It’s hard to describe the sinking sort of feeling that accompanied me as I braved the wind and rode along Highway Nine toward the Hualien Train Station before jumping on a northbound train. Upon arriving in Xinzhu that evening and seeing the great number of vehicles heading in all directions, I suddenly remembered a place that is so obscure even God has forgotten about it—Sima Kusi. There I was, so close to Mount Hehuan, but yet so far. “Why not,” I thought to myself, “just explore some other place nearby, and see if that will improve my state of mind?”

Having neglected to write down in my notebook how to get to Jianshi, I just followed the intuition I had upon waking up early in the morning and decided to go in the direction of the rising sun, towards what appeared to be a beautiful green mountain off in the distance. Now if the purpose of travel is to open a new door on life, then I was more than ready to enter. After putting my luggage in order, including two loaves of garlic bread and a map, I looked up at the azure blue sky—washed clean by several days of rain—and thought, “Yeah; let’s go!” With my enthusiasm starting to rise, I set out from downtown Xinzhu and drove my scooter along Highway Three towards Neiwan. The dancing of the grain tassels in the surrounding fields made me wonder if they were animated by fairies.

Making my way along county road 120, my gaze was soon arrested by the sight of a school wall decorated with the traditional hues and patterns of the Atayal tribe. The images of totem poles and traditional weaving patterns turned the cold gray wall into a work of art. The blue sky was punctuated by clouds which looked like cotton balls, the rays of the sun were slightly veiled, and the sand along the river was being caressed by the wind. After passing the road which goes towards the villages of Jiale and Xiuluan, I continued to follow the road signs, and then made a right turn onto county road 60 towards Sima Kusi. The change of scenery was so abrupt that it felt like somebody had just clicked a computer mouse. As the road rapidly gained altitude as it wound its way into the mountains, I realized that it was not as simple as it appears on the map. As I passed through the enchanted countryside I got the feeling that this place is somehow special. Enjoying the cool breeze while ascending the precipitous mountain road, I was stunned by the breathtaking views of a series of mountain chains.

Just as I was waxing poetic about the gorgeous mountain scenery, the scene up ahead brought me back down to Earth—a backhoe and a couple of dump trucks clearing away a landslide. Forced to slow my pace, I began to take a closer look at the scenery, at the same time wondering what other unknowns I was to encounter en route to my mysterious destination.

Continuing my ascent along dirt roads, I could perceive the gradual change in temperature with my hands as they held fast to the handgrips. The golden rays of the sun, however, steadily continued to shed their warmth on the mountain ridges, the tops of the tall grasses and the crosses of the churches along route 60. Here churches of various denominations are built side by side, and the villages are located according to the contours of the mountains, adding an unobtrusive layer to the natural skyline. As route 60 began to go downhill I became happy with the thought that my destination was surely at hand, but after a few minutes the road began to ascend again and I realized that I was mistaken. Behind me all I could see was the serene sight of the cross of a church against the blue sky. It was then that I realized that there were no utility poles or street lights along this road, but my tires continued to roll on this seemingly endless road. Then, just as I was in my getting worried, I saw up ahead in the distance the village I had just passed through, looking as if it were being held aloft by two ridges. It was then that I thought to myself, “Maybe the reason the Mount Hehuan trip got cancelled was to give me a chance to see the natural beauty preserved in Jianshi.”

Enraptured by the scenery and lost in thought for a moment, just as I fired up the engine and continued towards Sima Kusi, I encountered the highlight of the whole trip: a huge rainbow suspended above a canyon. The disappointment that had been dogging me since I set off from Hualien was suddenly dispelled. I cried out, “Somewhere over the rainbow…” and thought, “Surely there must be fairies up ahead waiting for me!” When I arrived at Yulao, the rather dilapidated main rest stop along route 60, I entered a small restaurant and ordered some pork to go with the garlic bread I was carrying. After taking a seat next to the window and admiring the scenery outside, the owner pointed out the mountain peak which lies in between the village of Zhenxibao (Cinsbu) and Sima Kusi. After hearing about my plans, she exclaimed with a dismayed expression, “What? Even us locals are daunted by the idea of going to Sima Kusi! It’s quite a distance from here!” It was then that I wondered, “Just what sort of a Godforsaken place am I heading for?” She then suggested that I settle for the open-air hot springs a little further along route 60.  

Thinking about the twisty mountain road, my tired body and sore bottom, I realized that the hot springs would be the perfect remedy for my sagging spirits. As I continued on my way I reflected on the journey. I started out with the sunshine as my guide, assisted by my intuition. With its artful interweaving of highs and lows, route 60 is rather like a musical score, and the hot springs are in the bass clef. The swaying yellow-leaved maple trees lining the road here really make the place light up in a way that street lights could never do. Up ahead I see a number of people, the Xiuluan Village police check point and steam wafting from amongst the boulders of a limpid stream. In order to enter such a remote place it is necessary to apply for a permit. The officer on duty tells me that entering the mountains so late in the day is not a good idea, especially when the road up ahead is in bad shape. Thanking the sun for bringing me thus far, I decide to call it a day at the hot springs.

Even though I started out without a clear plan, along route 60 I experienced the joy of adventure and a sense of satisfaction difficult to express, as well as a feeling of renewal. I have retained distinct memories of all of the people, things and events I encountered along route 60, memories which I’ll bring with me when someday I finally do make it all the way to Sima Kusi.