Many people believe Taiwan's greatest asset as a tourist destination is its mountains. Rising to very nearly 4,000 meters, and covering nine tenths of the island, they are among the most formidable assemblages of upland terrain anywhere in East Asia.
Nor can it be said that they are under-appreciated. Every Friday, organized parties scuttle off from major cities for a wide variety of trailheads, returning late on Sunday night to deliver their exhausted participants home just in time for Monday work morning. The call of the wild can't be said to go unheard.
As for guidebooks and maps, these too proliferate. Despite official discouragement not so long ago in the name of security, Taiwan's magnificent uplands are today well charted and readily accessible. The problem for foreigners, however, is that all this wealth of material is available only in Chinese.
What Taiwan desperately needs, if it to attract the foreign tourists it could so easily attract to its high hills, are maps of the main areas in English (as well as Chinese), plus a major new guidebook, or series of guidebooks, of the relevant terrain.
Lyndon Punt's A Hiking Guide to Taiwan at present appears to be the sole available attempt in English to cover the ground. At a mere 82 pages, it inevitably provides only the most sketchy of introductions. But beggars can't be choosers, and we must be grateful for the author's pioneering attempt.
It isn't actually the first work in its field, however. In 1978, a book was published in Taipei with not dissimilar aims, and, as it happens, an identical number of pages. Called Walking in Taiwan, it was put together by two writers, R.A.Warburton and F. Haas, who described themselves as "housewives," presumably the under-employed spouses of Taipei-based expatriates.
Whereas Warburton and Haas described 19 hikes (from Taipei's Tienmu Steps to Jade Mountain), Punt covers 34. Whereas they combined information about route-finding and estimated times with a frequently rapturous appreciation of the scenery, Punt limits himself to general descriptions of the routes and practical advice on accommodation, buses and so forth.
Inevitably, given the number of trails he deals with, Punt's descriptions are often perfunctory. On the famously dangerous ridge of Mt. Chilai (奇萊山), for instance, he writes "As the map shows there is another peak, Chilai ChuShan. This is about two hours away and has outstanding views of the Hualien County side of the range and the rugged trail south to Chilai South Peak and Tien Shyr." Warburton and Haas devote over three vivid pages to their exploration of this notorious route, ending with the terse sentence "We had been three days without seeing anybody." Nevertheless, Punt's handbook has some real advantages. His bus numbers and prices for things such as dormitory beds are naturally reasonably up-to-date. Such things are constantly changing, even so. The bus from Taipei's Mucha MRT station to Shih Ting, most people's starting point for the sharp ridge of Huang Ti Dien (皇帝殿), is now (slightly ominously) the 666, rather than the "tatty blue bus with no number" described by Punt. But changes between writing and printing are a guidebook writer's occupational hazard, and Punt loses no points on this score.
Nor can he be faulted for sending the innocent off unprepared into the wilderness. There are warnings about snakes, plus the need to carry food, water and flashlights, even when you expect to arrive at accommodation before dusk, and advice on proper clothing.
The maps, however, are sketchy in the extreme. One advantage they have, though, is that some place names are given in Chinese as well as English. This is crucially important when asking the way. What is mysterious is that this is not done as a matter of course. That there are some maps with no Chinese at all is strange almost beyond belief.
Many foreigners living in Taiwan have been put off acquainting themselves with the high mountains for one simple reason -- the official necessity of obtaining a government permit and a guide when attempting most of the major peaks. The fact that the government department concerned usually needs a week to process applications makes this an even greater obstacle for visitors on a short trip to the island. There is one straightforward solution -- join a group.
As far as Taipei goes, nothing could be simpler. The key is the two stores specializing in hiking equipment on Chungshan Road, just round the corner from Taipei Train Station at the intersection with Chungshiao West Road. Both these places have leaflets listing all such trips for the coming weekends, and there are so many there's a good chance you can choose your date and find a group that exactly suits your needs. It's a sign of the importance of these stores to hikers that the assembly point for many trips is the sidewalk outside their premises.
For around NT$3,000 you will get transportation, nine or so basic meals, and accommodation, in either huts or tents. Also, vitally, you will be included on a list submitted for official approval, as well as having the obligatory registered guide with your party. All obstacles are thereby removed at a stroke. There are also rather more leisurely mid-week excursions. Full information can be found at www.tingsaniou.com.tw. And visitors from abroad can make reservations by e-mailing tingsaniou@dreamer.com.tw a week in advance.
The final page of Punt's guide, described as a "2001 Update," is a mere 233 words pasted onto the inside of the back cover describing the effect on trails of the September 1999 earthquake. More detail would have been useful here.
Brief though this book is, no one can be criticized for not achieving something he never set out to do in the first place. This guide is only intended as a brief introduction, and in view of the current absence of anything comparable, it necessarily serves that simple purpose.
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