In the summer of 2009, I succumbed to over a decade of procrastination, and made the terrible mistake of getting a nine-to-five job. Most sane people get fed up with their work, their alarm clocks, their monotonous lives and their routines, but I’ve made a religion of it. I’ve worked very hard to avoid working hard, and I wasn’t at all happy with my new situation. The stability left me feeling lifeless and unoriginal.
My restlessness and fear of responsibility finally caught up with me, and in mid-August, I asked my boss for a couple of weeks off. She agreed and I excitedly raced home to plan my journey. After fourteen cups of coffee, I’d reviewed all my Taiwan maps and guide books, and had a rough idea of my Taiwanese motorcycle trip. I watched Easy Rider and Into the Wild, and decided to combine the two- minus the uglier scenes of course.
On a sunny weekend morning, I loaded a tent, sleeping bag and small backpack onto my jalopy of a motor scooter and started my adventure. It took me about an hour to navigate my way out of the chaotic maze of Taipei city, but by lunchtime, the buildings had disappeared, the eight-lane boulevards had become sleepy mountain roads, and the rocky coastline rolled out in front of me. For the first time in months, I felt free… no schedule, no alarm clock, no expectations, no hurry. The thought of the unknown, the intoxication of freedom, the new found oxygen; within two hours, life was exciting again!
My first stop was the coastal town of Fulong. Known for its long, sandy beaches, phenomenal bicycle trails, and proximity to Turtle Island, Fulong and neighboring Daxi are both popular weekend trips for Taipe-ers. After finding a good campsite (Longmen Campgrounds), I started on my quest to become “raisin colored” and napped on the beach all day. The next day, I embarked on the Caoling Trail; this is one of Taiwan’s remaining historical roads. Originally created as a passageway from the North to the East of the island, it now offers superb hiking. The trail can be completed in a few hours and it offers a unique look at Taiwan’s history as well as incredible views of the coast. I went through valleys of reeds, past meadows and rice fields and even got to see grazing water buffalo. On this trail, absent of motor vehicles or crowds, I was able to imagine this island through the ages- to imagine a time before trains and flashing lights, when it was inhabited by simple fisherman and farmers.
After another day of lazing on the beach, I headed further south past Yilan. This section of the trip ended up being one of my favorites; the highway took me slightly inland, nestled between rice farms, lakes, mountains and more rice farms. Here, you get a feel for the “real Taiwan”- a region where life has stayed the same for generations. Everywhere I went, people saw my gear tied onto the scooter and couldn’t help but smile.
Everyone had the same questions:
You are a foreigner traveling alone? You have no itinerary? You’re gonna be on the road for how long? You don’t mind that you’re skin looks like that of a raisin? Everyone encouraged me, letting out a jia you (keep going!) as I passed by. They drew maps on napkins and offered tea or fruit, thrilled at the appreciation I had for their beautiful country.
The next few days took me through the bustling port town of Nan Fang Ao (famous for fresh seafood) and down the (in)famous Su Ao Highway. This treacherous section of highway is the gateway between northern and southern Taiwan, and a staple of any visit to the island. The highway climbs to 1,000 meters above sea level and takes you precariously close to the cliff’s edge. Zigzagging along the coast is a great adventure, offering some of the best views in all of Taiwan.
After feeding my adrenaline and taking a couple hundred photos, I made my way into Hua Lian, where I spent the next few days, enjoying the beaches, river tracing and cycling.
After three days of rest and large meals, I was ready to start the real adventure. Up to that point, my trip had been fun, but I’d been on a path traveled by many, a path traveled by tour groups and elderly people. Most of the sights I’d seen had been in Lonely Planet’s “not to be missed” section, meaning- they weren’t exciting enough.
Finally I’d be venturing into the central mountains, an area seldom visited and a true departure from modern day Taiwan. This meant: no 7-Eleven’s, no 24-hour gas stations, no people to draw maps for me. The plan was to ride through Taroko Gorge, and then follow the highway up into the mountains, heading north along the “spine” of Taiwan.
Taroko National Park has been the subject of a million travel articles and for good reason.
It is INCREDIBLE!
With its vibrant blue rivers, psychedelic rock formations and traditional pagodas, this marble canyon is truly a must-see. I got there with time for some trekking and souvenir shopping before the town went to sleep. I found a small campsite (the park has several areas to camp for free) and set up for the night. As the last of the vendors and tourists disappeared, the park became eerily quiet. While the park’s population can swell to hundreds during the day, the nighttime population shrinks to a few dozen. Accompanied only by crickets and the rush of the Li Wu River, I’d finally made it into the wild. Miles and miles from any cities, the stars shone brighter than I’d ever seen before; I feel asleep gazing up at the Milky Way, feeling truly blessed to have made it this far.
The next morning, I woke up at 6:00, unable to hide from the glaring sun. After a quick breakfast I headed inland along highway 8. As I traveled higher and higher, the climate changed. The marble walls and tropical plants disappeared and I was greeted by big, fat pine trees! Three years in Taiwan and I’d ever known they even had pine trees here. I felt as if I’d made it to the top of the world, looking down on Taroko, looking down on the ocean, on the rice fields and busy cities. I reached the clouds, nearly drowned in the clouds, and then surpassed them… riding on a narrow bridge, surrounded by white on all sides. As I neared Li Shan (2000 meters above sea level), it got cold… then really cold and then… unbearably cold. In August, Taiwan is a sauna; often it’s 30 degrees Celsius with 90% humidity, so this weather came as a bit of a shock. I was not at all prepared.
I’d gradually been putting more and more layers on, until I was wearing everything I owned, including a raincoat and a garbage bag that I’d been filling with dirty laundry. I started to pray for a huge cup of coffee to jump into. Eventually I found myself in the little town of Lishan, and thanked God for the chance to get a hot bowl of soup and get out of the cold for a while. The tiny town intrigued me. What was life like up here? Did they ever get to wear shorts? Had they ever seen a foreigner before? After a quick lunch and as much hot tea as I could physically swallow,
I headed north-this time on Highway 7-for another couple of hours. My final destination for the day was Wuling Farm. This large camping and recreation area was really beautiful. With beautiful trees, waterfalls and rivers for fishing, I felt as if I’d arrived in an American summer camp. Wuling was hot and dry during the day; the air was crisp and “piney.” I camped there, though the area has ample accommodation, from simple hostels to lavish resorts.
After a couple days in Wuling, I headed north towards Taipei. The descent took me almost a full day, gradually leaving behind majestic forests and entering the thick, stagnant, summer air. After a night in Yilan I finally headed back home to Taipei. As I headed down my final mountain road and entered the city, I felt the heat of rush-hour traffic, smelled the exhaust of a million motor scooters, and heard the beeping buses and chattering masses.
Yes, it felt good to be home!
In the end, I couldn’t have asked for a better trip. Though most opt for trains and buses when traveling around Taiwan, I was happy with my decision to take a scooter. The freedom to explore any road and go (or stop) at any time gave this vacation a different flavor. Roads were well maintained (amazing, considering it was about two weeks after Typhoon Marakot); inexpensive (or free) campgrounds were easy to find; and I never drove too far without coming across a small town. Though I was traveling alone, I never felt at risk and I never felt lost. On the contrary, every corner brought new local friends, excited to offer advice or warm conversation.
Taiwan is smaller than most states in my country, but it really does offer a dozen climates, a hundred cultures and a thousand experiences. Visitors often excitedly speak of Taiwan’s busy bight markets and soothing hot springs. My advice to them is always the same: “Now you need to get a map (and a warm coat) and explore the rest! Go swim in the Pacific, hike through a marble canyon and sway with the palm trees. Breathe the thick fog of the pines and travel above the clouds, peering down at this intriguing little island.”
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