Maolin, a tale of past.
Well, my trip to Maolin (for the pictures, see previous post)
Brett and I went to go in search of a waterfall between Maolin and Leo guei in the central mountain range fo Taiwan. Since then, I have done research on Google Earth to find out details of this Murphy fated trip. Just before the Maolin bridge, I saw a path up into the trees and we decided to see where it went. It was a rocky train covered in gravel, not bad. We started at 300 feet above sea level. The trial went up fairly steep to a pagota that looked out over the river valley.
Next, we saw a dirt trail leading to the next hill and decided to go higher. The trail had 180 degree switchbacks and some large rocks and wasnt very wide.
We flew across a cliffside meadow of grass and some tiny dirt path, unseen, beneath the foliage. Wow, was it ever fun. We ran into some hikers who said that they had been hiking for 6 hours to get here and that it was another 4 to the top, we made it here in one hour and a half and figured we could do the top in another hour... silly hikers... leg power is so year 2000. So, they watched us as I tried to navigate the scooter through a rock crevase that was just too damn small, so my motorbike didn't stand a chance. They just laughed at the silly foreigners trying to drive up places that hikers need the help of all four limbs to navigate. So, we tried another path, and sailed up that bloody trail.
About 1km up, there was a super incline, Brett barely made it up on his scooter and I was behind on mm nike, I had to stop halfway so I didn't hit him as he crawled up the hill on his scooter. Scooters don't have clutches (well, they have centrifugal clutches, but no work for the driver and no slippage). I had to stop my bike half way up.
That bloody path ate my bike. It sunk about 6 inches into the leaves on the path, once I dug through the leaves, was gravel and then muddy dirt. Have you ever driven a lawn mover over a compost heap? That's what Brett got sprayed at him as he helped me push the bike up the hill. I cut a path up that hill about 10 inches deep for about 40 feet. The only breaks in the cut were from the logs and huge rocks blocking our way... we went over them.
The paths just got worse from there, into boulders that we couldn't go over, rock fields that shifted under our feet and we both just about laid our bikes down a hundred times form slipping out. Try driving on 2 feet of loose rocks about the size of softballs, cover that with dead leaves and rotting sticks and then add some water... dyin to do it again. Anyways, at about 4000 feet, Brett ran out of gas and we had adjusted my clutch as it was screwing up. We tried to double up, but my bike was barely getting me up the hill and the other half of the time, I was getting it up the hill... maybe the hikers weren't so silly, with thier silly looking walking sticks and towels. Anyways, Brett decided to run as he used to run marathons, or something... he does look the part. So, about another 300 feet up the mountain, my bike roars, but nothing is to be felt, my clutch is gone. We walked up the next 700 feet to the top, the bike could have only gone another 200 feet anyways as we had resorted to ropes and climbing. We made it to the top for a fantastic view, 5000feet above where we has started. We only had one litre of water between us, it was gone in a flash.
I phoned Jaco, letting him know where we were and he offered help, aside from flying past and me grabbing the bar of his hang glider, not alot he could do.
Here we were:
Saturday afternoon (5:00)
On top of a mountain, 2 hours form home (from the bottom of the mountain)
2 hours (on motorized transport) from the bottom.
8 hours (as a proficient hiker) from the bottom... we didn't have those silly sticks, so not a possibility
1 empty water bottle
2 tired guys
0 women
$50CAN between us
Our plan... freewheel the bikes down the hill! Yeah! So we got to my bike and... well... brakes only work half as well on the downslope. Luckily, it was uphill the whole way here! So, I slid on my heavy bike around every corner and Brett, the same.
...oops, there was one hill in the meadow. Well, for about 400 feet, there was an insanely steep hill (gentle for driving, insanely steep for PUSHING a bike through the bloody weeds!). Brett powered his bike up with the fumes of gas he had and barely sputtered to the top. Me? I pushed about 50 feet and laid on the horn and called Brett, it took 2 of us 15 minutes to push it up. The rest was just as fun as going up, flying at breakneck speed, I lost my bike on one corner and banged my ankle up pretty badly, just bruised the bone between a rock and my footpeg. It hurt, alot. And, I almost decapitated myself on a tree, it was one over the road that I had forgotten about, I did a powerslide right under it and smacked my mirror as I slid under... the bike never hit dirt, I recovered. Brett was laughing.
The rest was fairly tame, we made it to the bottom, only to find a mechanic on the highway. From pulling up to pulling out, he had me a new clutch in 24 minutes, flat. We drove home.
Oh, and Brett was pushing his bike down the highway and some guy in a red jeep pulled up and told him to wait. Came flying with a jug of gas and when Brett tried to pay him, he handed Brett an election flyer. Foreigners can't vote, but we can hope, I guess.
If you click on the title of this post, you will go to Brett's account of this trip and some pictures, I will try to update my picture site soon, the link is in the right margin of this page. Or, click "here."
Spellcheck is for people who are paid to write... send donations, I'll spellcheck.
Brett and I went to go in search of a waterfall between Maolin and Leo guei in the central mountain range fo Taiwan. Since then, I have done research on Google Earth to find out details of this Murphy fated trip. Just before the Maolin bridge, I saw a path up into the trees and we decided to see where it went. It was a rocky train covered in gravel, not bad. We started at 300 feet above sea level. The trial went up fairly steep to a pagota that looked out over the river valley.
Next, we saw a dirt trail leading to the next hill and decided to go higher. The trail had 180 degree switchbacks and some large rocks and wasnt very wide.
We flew across a cliffside meadow of grass and some tiny dirt path, unseen, beneath the foliage. Wow, was it ever fun. We ran into some hikers who said that they had been hiking for 6 hours to get here and that it was another 4 to the top, we made it here in one hour and a half and figured we could do the top in another hour... silly hikers... leg power is so year 2000. So, they watched us as I tried to navigate the scooter through a rock crevase that was just too damn small, so my motorbike didn't stand a chance. They just laughed at the silly foreigners trying to drive up places that hikers need the help of all four limbs to navigate. So, we tried another path, and sailed up that bloody trail.
About 1km up, there was a super incline, Brett barely made it up on his scooter and I was behind on mm nike, I had to stop halfway so I didn't hit him as he crawled up the hill on his scooter. Scooters don't have clutches (well, they have centrifugal clutches, but no work for the driver and no slippage). I had to stop my bike half way up.
That bloody path ate my bike. It sunk about 6 inches into the leaves on the path, once I dug through the leaves, was gravel and then muddy dirt. Have you ever driven a lawn mover over a compost heap? That's what Brett got sprayed at him as he helped me push the bike up the hill. I cut a path up that hill about 10 inches deep for about 40 feet. The only breaks in the cut were from the logs and huge rocks blocking our way... we went over them.
The paths just got worse from there, into boulders that we couldn't go over, rock fields that shifted under our feet and we both just about laid our bikes down a hundred times form slipping out. Try driving on 2 feet of loose rocks about the size of softballs, cover that with dead leaves and rotting sticks and then add some water... dyin to do it again. Anyways, at about 4000 feet, Brett ran out of gas and we had adjusted my clutch as it was screwing up. We tried to double up, but my bike was barely getting me up the hill and the other half of the time, I was getting it up the hill... maybe the hikers weren't so silly, with thier silly looking walking sticks and towels. Anyways, Brett decided to run as he used to run marathons, or something... he does look the part. So, about another 300 feet up the mountain, my bike roars, but nothing is to be felt, my clutch is gone. We walked up the next 700 feet to the top, the bike could have only gone another 200 feet anyways as we had resorted to ropes and climbing. We made it to the top for a fantastic view, 5000feet above where we has started. We only had one litre of water between us, it was gone in a flash.
I phoned Jaco, letting him know where we were and he offered help, aside from flying past and me grabbing the bar of his hang glider, not alot he could do.
Here we were:
Saturday afternoon (5:00)
On top of a mountain, 2 hours form home (from the bottom of the mountain)
2 hours (on motorized transport) from the bottom.
8 hours (as a proficient hiker) from the bottom... we didn't have those silly sticks, so not a possibility
1 empty water bottle
2 tired guys
0 women
$50CAN between us
Our plan... freewheel the bikes down the hill! Yeah! So we got to my bike and... well... brakes only work half as well on the downslope. Luckily, it was uphill the whole way here! So, I slid on my heavy bike around every corner and Brett, the same.
...oops, there was one hill in the meadow. Well, for about 400 feet, there was an insanely steep hill (gentle for driving, insanely steep for PUSHING a bike through the bloody weeds!). Brett powered his bike up with the fumes of gas he had and barely sputtered to the top. Me? I pushed about 50 feet and laid on the horn and called Brett, it took 2 of us 15 minutes to push it up. The rest was just as fun as going up, flying at breakneck speed, I lost my bike on one corner and banged my ankle up pretty badly, just bruised the bone between a rock and my footpeg. It hurt, alot. And, I almost decapitated myself on a tree, it was one over the road that I had forgotten about, I did a powerslide right under it and smacked my mirror as I slid under... the bike never hit dirt, I recovered. Brett was laughing.
The rest was fairly tame, we made it to the bottom, only to find a mechanic on the highway. From pulling up to pulling out, he had me a new clutch in 24 minutes, flat. We drove home.
Oh, and Brett was pushing his bike down the highway and some guy in a red jeep pulled up and told him to wait. Came flying with a jug of gas and when Brett tried to pay him, he handed Brett an election flyer. Foreigners can't vote, but we can hope, I guess.
If you click on the title of this post, you will go to Brett's account of this trip and some pictures, I will try to update my picture site soon, the link is in the right margin of this page. Or, click "here."
Spellcheck is for people who are paid to write... send donations, I'll spellcheck.
posted by Colin at 3:50 PM
1 Comments:
WOW! Breta
Post a Comment
<< Home