Today was great. I mean, except for the part where I got hypothermia. That was distinctly not great. But all the other parts of today were great. My breakfast was great. The road info I got from locals was useful. The road (which was in great condition) had been widened since I was here last and the truck traffic that literally had me so scared six years ago that I burst into tears was now reduced to a mere trickle. Also, the numerous traffic cameras all over the place meant that none of them were speeding or passing on blind curves.
Say what you will about Big Brother and the creepy way in which cameras can be used for all sorts of other kinds of tracking but I like cameras. I like the way they curb all kinds of stupid dangerous behaviors. I like the way it makes it easier to catch the people who are dumb enough to continue to do stupid dangerous things in front of cameras. I really want to dislike cameras and Big Data and all that for all the negatives that could be out there but there's just so much to like about them.
The old city (this would be from the 90s) is gradually being dismantled and replaced
The ride south on the G209 towards Shikou Township and the intersection with what had been the S321 and was now the G340 was nothing particularly eventful. Lots of slow grinding uphill with intermittent trucks to annoy (but not scare) me. The road is slightly wider than it was six years ago (by perhaps half a normal shoulder on either side) so although many different spots looked like they could have been the cliff face I cowered against as an overtaking truck pulled fully into my lane and onto my shoulder six years ago, I couldn't really be really sure. About halfway to Shikou and the turnoff there was a great big paifang style traditional Chinese arch across the road with a little gold carved wooden laughing Buddha at the center. No apparent reason for it either. I'm sure I would have remembered that. The pickup truck must have stopped and gotten me before then.
Imagine this road without that jersey barrier there, in part because the road-that-now-is is built on fill. Half the width. With this cliff face. It was hell.
Six years ago, I was driven to the top of the pass. I didn't ask to be driven to the top of the pass. I would have been fine with getting out as soon as they turned off the truck road. I might be stubborn but they were more stubborn and, not too long before, I had been a Crying Girl. Was, at the time, still a red faced and snot nosed Girl. Considering what a slog it was to the top now even after the road has been considerably regraded and widened and straightened and upgraded and made into one of the new Scenic National Roads, I'm kind of glad that I didn't have do the climb six years ago when it was steeper, I had more luggage and less leg muscles.
In one of the sections that goes straight up (and through) some rolling hills that the previous road undulated around, I found an amazing temple to climb in, around, and on. The edge of one of the 'unimportant' buildings had been cut into by the road but the rest of it was mostly intact, or at least not damaged by the road construction. After a bit of a fright where the nail I impaled my shoe on ended up going between my toes without even a scratch, I was especially careful with checking where I put my weight as the floor had already partially collapsed and I didn't want to risk breaking bones.
I'm glad I did because the frescoes (or should I say the remains of the frescoes) that I found inside the one room that still had a roof were amazing. One of my artist friends vaguely identified them as probably being late Ming Dynasty (so 17th century) but it's theoretically possible that they could be later than that. They're painted on a frangible white plaster over top of a thicker layer that's part mud and straw. Years of humidity have caused a sort of dusty weeping from the mud layer underneath which I tried to wipe away from the one of the central images only to jerk my hand back in horror when I realized the plaster and paint were coming with it.
After that, none of the many abandoned yaodong houses from various eras and in various stages of falling apart could get my interest enough to get me off the road and poking about.
Almost to the top of the pass, a kilometer long tunnel has now been built for cars. The tunnel is off limits for "pedestrians and non-motorized vehicles" with a sign telling us to take the old road. Not especially liking tunnels (even lit tunnels with walkways), I took it. It had not been repaired at all and possibly may have gotten torn up worse during the construction of the tunnel so going down the other side necessitated my getting off and walking a few times. On the plus side, it meant that when I got back to the main road, I very very thoroughly appreciated all the broad straight shiny newness of it.
Pedestrians and non motorized vehicles, turn right to go around the tunnel
In 2012, it wasn't even raining and I got chilled on the way down from the top of the pass to Shilou. This time, it was raining. I probably would have been fine if I'd changed out of my wet clothes either when I stopped in Luocun Town to beg hot water from a shop, when I stopped at a crumbling but not abandoned temple about halfway from Luocun to Shilou, or when I had dinner in Shilou. Since my long sleeved jersey, thermal vest, and windbreaker were all among the wet stuff, I didn't think it was necessary to take any of the multiple opportunities to change into something dry; I was wrong.
This freestanding building was built as if it were a dugout courtyard with yaodong
I didn't really start shivering until after dinner. The restaurant's specialty was soup and the inside was all hot and steamy and nice. But then I had to go back outside into the not hot, not steamy, not nice. It wasn't cold but I was soaked to the skin and had been for hours. The walk upstairs to check out the rooms at the first hotel I saw and then back down again was just enough time spent still in my wet clothing that I was shaking and shivering by the time I finished paying.
I immediately got in the shower and turned the water to as hot as I could bear. I then stayed in the shower until the drain clogged and the overflow started to flood my hotel room. Later on, when I was warmed up, the temperature which had been "much too very hot" turned out to only be lukewarm.
This temple was actually closer to the beginning of the day. Note the way the outside has been shined up for passing car drivers.
