The hesitation before setting out

To be honest, I almost gave up the night before departure.

The weather forecast said it would rain over the weekend, and I knew all too well how slippery the scree slopes of the South Taihang can get in the rain. But the plane tickets were already bought, the chartered car was booked, and a few guys from the group chat had already arrived in Xinxiang. Whatever, to hell with it.

We left Zhengzhou at four in the morning, before dawn. The driver, Lao Zhang, was a local and drove three hours along mountain roads before dropping us at the entrance of Mawuzhai Village. A dog at the village entrance glanced at us and went back to sleep, probably used to people like us carrying big backpacks.

The scree slope taught me a lesson

The first two kilometers were fairly friendly, following a stream valley, with water so clear you could see the stones underneath. I even joked with my teammates that this trip would be easy.

Then came the scree slope.

The scree slopes of the South Taihang—how should I put it—are the kind of terrain where you step on one stone and three more shift beneath it. With a 20 kg pack on my back, I took every step cautiously. Halfway up, a guy ahead of me slipped, landed on his butt, and slid down two meters, tearing his backpack rain cover to shreds.

Watching from behind, I quietly tightened my grip on my trekking poles.

Qixingtan

After crossing the scree slope, my knees were already shaking. But when we rounded a bend, Qixingtan suddenly appeared before us.

In that moment, you really do freeze.

Emerald-green water, red rocks, and cliffs like knife cuts on both sides. Sunlight shone down through the gaps, and the water surface glittered. I stood there watching for several minutes, forgetting that my knees hurt.

One teammate said it looked like Jiuzhaigou. I thought it was wilder than Jiuzhaigou. Jiuzhaigou is too refined; this place still feels a bit desolate, a bit dangerous, but that is exactly the feeling that gets you addicted.

Hongshi River

We continued forward and reached the Hongshi River.

The entire riverbed was made of red stones, the water not fast, clear and cool. A few of us took off our shoes, sat on the rocks soaking our feet, and ate compressed biscuits. Nearby, an older woman was washing clothes. She glanced at us, probably thinking this bunch of city people were crazy.

The afternoon sun was lovely, making people lazy. I lay on the rocks, watching the clouds in the sky, and suddenly felt that this was how life should be. Not facing a computer in the office, not being squeezed into a photo in the subway, but lying on the rocks of the Taihang Mountains, listening to the water and spacing out.

Night in Baodu Village

At night we stayed in Baodu Village.

The village sits above the cliffs, with only one road in and out—truly isolated from the world. There were only a few households. The owner of the farmhouse where we stayed made especially delicious noodles, and I ate three bowls.

At night there was no signal and no wifi. A few of us sat in the courtyard watching the stars. The starry sky over the Taihang Mountains—how should I put it—was the kind that makes you look up and feel it is a little unreal. The Milky Way hung clearly in the sky, and occasionally a shooting star streaked past.

One teammate said the last time he had seen stars was as a child back home. I said the same.

In that moment, I suddenly felt that we work so hard and make so much money, and in the end maybe all we want is to get back that feeling of lying in the courtyard as a child watching the stars.

The collapse on the second day

When I got up the second morning, my legs no longer felt like my own.

From Baodu Village to Hankou, they say it is mostly downhill, but the downhills in the South Taihang are also the kind that kill you. Stone-slab paths, cliffside plank walkways, dense forests to weave through. On one stretch we walked right against the cliff. I glanced down and my legs went weak.

I am a bit afraid of heights.

But we had already come this far; I couldn’t exactly fly down. I stuck close to the mountain wall and shuffled along step by step, my palms covered in sweat. A teammate ahead shouted, “Don’t look down!” I thought, if you hadn’t said that, I wouldn’t have wanted to look anyway.

Baligou

Near Hankou, we passed through Baligou.

Some people call it the Jiuzhaigou of the north. The water really is clear—so clear you can see the fish at the bottom. But I think what makes Baligou better than Jiuzhaigou is that there are not as many people. When we went, there were only a few of us in the entire scenic area.

Sitting beneath the waterfall, with the mist hitting my face, it felt cool. I suddenly remembered the days last year when I worked overtime in the office until 3 a.m., and felt that this moment was like a dream.

The return trip

We came out at Hankou, took the chartered car back to Xinxiang, and then the high-speed rail back to Zhengzhou.

On the train, I leaned against the window, watching the scenery recede rapidly outside. My legs hurt like hell, I had two blisters on my feet, and my shoulders had two red marks from the backpack straps. But inside I was satisfied.

After my phone regained signal, the group chat had more than a hundred new messages. My boss asked whether I could arrive early on Monday, and my colleagues were discussing next quarter’s KPIs. I turned off my phone and looked out the window for a while longer.

Final notes

The South Taihang route is honestly not easy. A 20 kg load, scree slopes, cliffside plank walkways, fear of heights. After finishing, I swore I wouldn’t carry a backpack again for three months.

But two months later, I was already reading guides for Wugong Mountain again.

People really are gluttons for punishment.

Some say hiking is self-torture. I don’t think so. Hiking lets you temporarily leave the world kidnapped by your phone, your work, and all kinds of deadlines, and return to the simplest state of life—walking, eating, sleeping, looking at scenery.

That simple.

“The Taihang Mountains taught me one thing: the path is made by walking, not by thinking.”

More photos are collected in the South Taihang album, and you can also continue looking for other destinations from the footprints map.