Warnings and rumors circulated for months: dead bodies have been found in rock crevices hundreds of meters below Stegosaurus Ridge’s (劍龍稜) spiky backbone; dozens have lost their nerve on the trickiest, ropeless, exposed section; some even say that the ridge is cursed by evil spirits.
With all the mystique surrounding it, the hike up New Taipei City’s Stegosaurus Ridge had to be done. And one thing was for sure: this hike is an endeavor not to be taken lightly. But with level 3 lockdown hopefully easing up in the foreseeable future, more than a few have probably put on some weight and are thinking about how to take it off.
Stegosaurus Ridge is a great option to accomplish this in a half a day in northern Taiwan, which begins at “Nanya Peculiar Rock” (南雅奇石), and you almost certainly make it out alive, a couple of kilos lighter, with your metabolism in high gear.
Photo: Greg McCann
CONQUERING THE BEAST
To conquer this beast of a climb, one needs first a pair of gloves for handling ropes for going up and down the trail’s stony ridgeline, which actually does in several sections resemble the upright “armor plates” of a stegosaurus. False summits abound, and frequent rests are required for all but the super-fit.
But those rest stops afford one stupendous views of the Pacific Ocean — including one of Keelung Islet — that are probably unparalleled. And the next thing one needs is for the rest stops: water, and lots of it. Two liters would be the absolute minimum amount to bring, and maybe three to be safe, with one preferably heavy on electrolytes.
Photo: Greg McCann
Up and up we go, which is almost always the case when hiking in Asia where the lowlands have been converted for human use. And if the views out to sea are jaw-dropping, the geography of what you are hiking over is equally as striking.
It is as if one is hiking over an actual petrified stegosaurus, a gigantic dinosaur that got stuck in the quicksand 65 million years ago, and gave up and died. And what an enormous animal it is as the hiker will crest ridge upon ridge with seemingly no end in sight, as if one is trekking back into the ancient past itself.
At 555 meters the weary traveler will find a most welcome rest stop, a flat area with plenty of places to sprawl out and rest one’s legs. But you’re not finished yet as you’ve got 149 meters more to climb, as the ridge peaks out at 714 meters. That might not sound gargantuan, but keep in mind that you will begin at sea level.
Photo: Greg McCann
THE FINAL STRETCH
The hiker will find himself with a couple of final obstacles, including a delicate maneuver over an exposed section of sheer rock without a rope to hold on to. This goes on for about 15 meters, and it’s probably best not to look down. Over-exertion could be setting in at this point for those of us hiding away in our rooms too long, but you’re still not done, with several more rope-assisted climbs and scrambles over and around rugged peaks and walls of stone.
The main mountain section ends with a steep drop down a natural chute, where two thick ropes lower you to safety. It seems like it’s over and that the going should be easy. But you’re not off the mountain yet.
Photo: Greg McCann
There is some spelunking to do at Teapot Mountain (茶壺山). Earthquakes have caused former entrances to this small cave to shift and collapse, but you still need to go through it. It’s down into the dark you go, like a final portal that brings one back to modern times and our creature comforts.
Once you find your way through there and drop down to level ground, it’s a fairly long slog by steps and road to Cyuanji Temple (?勸濟堂), where buses and taxis, as well as restaurants, await.
If you still have some juice left in you, a walk of another 200 meters will take you to Kukutsu POW Camp Memorial, which commemorates a site where the Japanese held American, British and other POWs in appalling conditions during World War II.
Photo: Greg McCann
My hiking mojo was blown and this recent trek, and I didn’t make it to the memorial. Next time.
Photo: Greg McCann
Photo: Greg McCann
Photo: Greg McCann
Photo: Greg McCann
When Taiwan was battered by storms this summer, the only crumb of comfort I could take was knowing that some advice I’d drafted several weeks earlier had been correct. Regarding the Southern Cross-Island Highway (南橫公路), a spectacular high-elevation route connecting Taiwan’s southwest with the country’s southeast, I’d written: “The precarious existence of this road cannot be overstated; those hoping to drive or ride all the way across should have a backup plan.” As this article was going to press, the middle section of the highway, between Meishankou (梅山口) in Kaohsiung and Siangyang (向陽) in Taitung County, was still closed to outsiders
US President Donald Trump may have hoped for an impromptu talk with his old friend Kim Jong-un during a recent trip to Asia, but analysts say the increasingly emboldened North Korean despot had few good reasons to join the photo-op. Trump sent repeated overtures to Kim during his barnstorming tour of Asia, saying he was “100 percent” open to a meeting and even bucking decades of US policy by conceding that North Korea was “sort of a nuclear power.” But Pyongyang kept mum on the invitation, instead firing off missiles and sending its foreign minister to Russia and Belarus, with whom it
President William Lai (賴清德) has championed Taiwan as an “AI Island” — an artificial intelligence (AI) hub powering the global tech economy. But without major shifts in talent, funding and strategic direction, this vision risks becoming a static fortress: indispensable, yet immobile and vulnerable. It’s time to reframe Taiwan’s ambition. Time to move from a resource-rich AI island to an AI Armada. Why change metaphors? Because choosing the right metaphor shapes both understanding and strategy. The “AI Island” frames our national ambition as a static fortress that, while valuable, is still vulnerable and reactive. Shifting our metaphor to an “AI Armada”
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has a dystopian, radical and dangerous conception of itself. Few are aware of this very fundamental difference between how they view power and how the rest of the world does. Even those of us who have lived in China sometimes fall back into the trap of viewing it through the lens of the power relationships common throughout the rest of the world, instead of understanding the CCP as it conceives of itself. Broadly speaking, the concepts of the people, race, culture, civilization, nation, government and religion are separate, though often overlapping and intertwined. A government