There are an awful lot of wild peach trees on the mountains around Beijing, scattered densely across the slopes and huddled in the valleys like an invasive species. During other seasons, I didn’t have any particular feelings about them while hiking, but in spring alone, I was greatly delighted. From afar, they looked like wisps of pink smoke, ethereal and faint. However, in the early spring of the capital, just as the pandemic was settling down, the smog returned. I watched the mountains covered in peach blossoms with my own eyes, yet could only imagine the beautiful scenery under a clear sky.
Although the peach blossoms are gorgeous, they cannot compete with the old smog
The distant mountains under the haze actually have a bit of artistic conception
This time, following an outdoor organization and tracing the route on “Liu Zhi Jiao” (Six Feet), I shuttled through the mountains between Yanchi Town in Mentougou. The total distance was about fifteen kilometers, with an elevation gain of roughly a thousand meters. The “Little White Rabbit” telephoto lens I brought to capture distant views became the biggest burden in this smog that even the sun couldn’t penetrate.
At the beginning, it was an endless uphill climb, with occasional downhill sections, immediately followed by even steeper ridges. Slowly climbing up, at one point, the person in front suddenly said we were almost at the Big Crack. Expectantly moving forward, what came into view was a very short gap extending into the valley.
The slightly disappointing "Little Crack"
Jumping up, I took a few shots from different angles and called it a day. Instead, looking down the mountain, the terrain was quite impressive, but the view was still blocked by the haze, leaving no room for the eyes to wander freely.
The winter snow had just melted, and the descent was muddy, so I had to put away my camera. After a long stretch of forest path, the pain below my knees grew increasingly intense, and I regretted not buying knee pads. In the latter half of the journey, I couldn’t see anyone ahead or hear anyone behind, which was quite frightening. After repeatedly comparing the “track-following” on the APP and confirming it was correct, I felt slightly relieved, but then began to suspect that we were the last two.
Later, I reached a wider dirt road cleared by the villagers, and then a newly paved asphalt road. My steps gradually became lighter, the scenery gradually disappeared, and finally, I found the bus, discovering that we were actually not too far behind. But by then, my legs were sore, swollen, and aching, too weak to feel happy. I still had to endure a round of stretching.
During the endless uphill climb and the continuous descent, physical fatigue constantly assailed me, leaving me no time to think about the usual worries. Savoring the bitterness of the body in moderation can instead help one let go of the knots in the heart.
