Two days later, after our legs had recovered, we left the rivers and hills of Guanxi province for the peaks of Anhui province, located in eastern central China and home to Huangshan, China's single most famous mountain. (Huang means yellow and shan means mountain, so it is often called "Yellow Mountain" as well.)
With more than 70 distinct peaks, Huangshan is perhaps best known for its uniquely shaped rock formations, with features unlike almost any other, creating a landscape with some truly amazing vistas.
Though Huangshan is not considered a sacred mountain like Wutaishan or Emeishan, it often feels like one, with mist enshrouding its peaks in a "sea of clouds" most of the year, animal-shaped boulders seemingly carved and then placed atop the mountain, and the same quiet serenity found in most mountaintop settings - except for all the tourists, of course.
After a 1½ hour bus ride from our hotel in Tunxi (the mountain's gateway city to the southeast), we boarded another bus at the Huangshan front gate, which took us to the base of the eastern steps, one of the two main routes up the mountain (along with the western steps).
From there, we boarded the Yungusi cable car, which whisked us up to the Beihai ("North Sea") area, a relatively flat section home to several hotels, actually slightly behind the highest peaks, which are in the Tianhai ("Heavenly Sea") area.
After dropping off our bags at the Xihai hotel, we started hiking through Beihai. We were lucky in our timing, since the usual cloud cover had given way to bright sunshine, which along with the cool, fresh mountain air provided a perfect setting for the day's hike.
(On the other hand, the tourism authorities insist Huangshan is just as beautiful when shrouded in mist or even under cover of snow.)
Even the hordes of tourists gathered at each of the scenic spots - there are over 100 named rock formations - did not really detract from the setting, since there is doubt from looking at the imposing peaks that humans are mere visitors here.
(A word of caution: because all supplies are carried up the mountain by hand - the slow progress of laborers carrying back-breaking loads up the mountain is fascinating and painful to watch - prices are generally higher, and not only did our hotel not provide towels, it only changed the bedsheets once every three days.)
I tried not to think about that.
All the views were spectacular, and neither words nor the average camera can do them justice. All around us, rocky, craggy peaks reached for the clear blue sky, as did the pine trees perched so precariously on top of them. More so than at other mountains, at Huangshan we could really walk among these summits instead of just seeing them at a distance - it was simply breathtaking.
Walking west, we came to Feilaishi ("Flew-Over Rock"), a large vertical slab of stone standing on an otherwise flat boulder - it really does look like it flew there on its own. Further down the path was Paiyunting ("Cloud-Splitting Pavilion"), reportedly the best place to watch the sunset.
Hiking Huangshan was straightforward, since concrete or stone steps have been built along all the major trails ("mountain climbing" it is not).
Straightforward does not mean easy, though - the steps are often narrow and steep, and during the peak season they are crowded with large tour groups going back and forth. The trail was strenuous, too, continually rising and falling, and sometimes twisting around the mountainsides via narrow walkways clinging to sheer cliff sides, with steep drops just a few feet away.
The next day, we caught the sunrise at Qingliangtai ("Refreshing Terrace") - it was beautiful, though not quite as nice as in the postcards - and then we started our way home via the western steps, which feature Huangshan's three highest peaks. We first came to Guang Ming Ding ("Bright Summit Peak"), the second-highest at 6,100 feet, where a relatively flat cluster of boulders at the top provided a perfect vantage point to see Lian Hua Feng ("Lotus Flower Peak"), Huangshan's highest peak at 6,115 feet.
Unfortunately, that would be the only peak we would conquer that day. Lotus Flower Peak itself was closed because of dangerous trail conditions. The third-highest, Tian Du Feng ("Heavenly Capital Peak"), further down from Lotus Peak, is supposed to have even more amazing views, but the trail to its summit is even more vertigo-inducing, so since we were already exhausted from the day before we decided to skip it.
Even so, we had plenty of challenges and sights on the way down. At one point the trail narrowed so much between two mountains that only one person could pass at a time down its steep, slippery steps. And there were more unusually shaped rocks, including one plateau with rabbit- and turtle-shaped stones in a slow-motion race. Finally, we reached the Yingkesong ("Guest Greeting Pine"), which extends a long branch in welcome, and then boarded the Yuping cable car for the ride back down the mountain.
By the time we returned to Tunxi for some sorely needed massages, we were both exhausted and elated - biking in Guilin and hiking in Huangshan had been unforgettable, offering windows into China's rural past as well as close-up views of some of the most unique and beautiful landscapes in the world, places that inspired us just as they had countless poets, artists and travelers before us.
