A Solo Trip (3) - Ten Days Exploring Huangshan, Wuyuan, Hongcun, Sanqingshan, Wuyishan, and Guifeng

Sunny to cloudy, temperature 3-6°C, relatively cold. Sanqingshan: National Scenic Area, World Natural Heritage, World Geopark, National 5A Tourist Attraction, National Green Tourism Demonstration Base.

Day 7 (November 30): After getting up in the morning, I had breakfast at the "Grandma's Kitchen" restaurant (eggs, dumplings, plain porridge, very tasty), then left my luggage at the scenic area service center (20 yuan). At 7:20, I passed through the ticket checkpoint and went up the mountain.

Sanqingshan is a mountainous area, with very low temperatures in the morning and evening. I wore thermal underwear, a sports jacket in the middle, and a shell jacket on the outside (the inner layer had been sent back, which I regretted again). This was all I had, and I still felt cold.

The cable car took about 30 minutes uphill (the most worthwhile cable car). Along the way, clouds and mist swirled around. I thought, "God bless, please don't let Sanqingshan be shrouded in fog like Huangshan."

Following the suggestion from the restaurant owner, I turned right onto the plank road at the cable car exit. After walking for over ten minutes, I came to a fork. According to the boss, I should have gone left to avoid Yixiantian (the hardest path), but I thought it wouldn't be that soon, so I continued right.

As I walked, I didn't hear any voices. I thought I had taken the wrong way again. Never mind, I kept going.

Another ten-plus minutes passed. The surrounding mountain outlines began to appear, but still shrouded in clouds.

Ahead was a very wide, sloping incline. I started climbing. A few minutes later, I reached the top of the slope.

Turning around the mountain bend—wow, was this a paradise on earth? Ahead was a clear sky stretching endlessly, bright sunshine, rolling sea of clouds, and spectacular peaks and strange rocks standing as if in a natural bonsai. It was so beautiful. I realized I had arrived at Wanshouyuan Scenic Area. This was the first time in many days I had seen sunlight.

Walking alone along the high-altitude plank road, enjoying the sea of clouds and the scenery, I met a young handsome guy coming from the opposite direction. We greeted each other and then went our separate ways (more about this later).

Just as I was secretly delighted by this beautiful view, I saw a sign ahead: "Yixiantian" (One Line of Sky). Damn it! I had come to the place I least wanted to be. Looking up, the slope was over 40 degrees, cliffs on both sides as if cut by knives, the slope at least a hundred meters long. Looking up at the sky, only a thin line of blue sky was visible—hence the name. No choice! Climb!

Each step up made my left knee sore and painful, unable to exert strength. Halfway up, my chest hurt, I was panting like an ox, sweating like rain. I took off my clothes until I was only wearing my thermal underwear (the temperature was only 5°C, after all). I was almost naked.

Using both hands and feet, I continued climbing. A woman came down from above. With difficulty, I asked her how she had managed to climb up. She said she had stayed on the mountain last night and went up in the morning, and she told me, "Keep going, the view up there is beautiful." As if I believed her—she was just encouraging me to climb.

I kept climbing, afraid to look up in case I lost confidence, and even more afraid of falling and regretting it for a lifetime. If I rolled down from here, I would at least get a grade A Class 1 disability certificate.

With my head down, breathing heavily step by step, I don't know how long it took before I finally saw flat ground. I crawled and scrambled up. Looking back, there was a sign beside me: "Yixiantian steps: 299 steps, homophonic to 'love forever,' implying that a thousand miles of fate are tied by a single thread." Hah, 'love forever'—I climbed up here risking my life.

I sat on the steps, panting heavily, when the "Crutch Guy" slowly walked down from above. I told him that at the first fork I hadn't turned left, mistakenly taking the Yixiantian path instead, and it nearly killed me. He said that although he had taken the correct fork, he had also gone the wrong way and wasted dozens of minutes backtracking (many tourists said the signs at Sanqingshan were not clear enough, so basically everyone got lost).

I asked him what the scenery was like on his side. He said, "The fog is very heavy; I can't see anything." I said, "On my side, the sun is shining bright, the scenery is beautiful." I showed him the photos I had taken on my phone. He said, "So beautiful! Encountering the sea of clouds, even getting lost was worth it. I'll go take a look later." I didn't want to go up any further either. Instead, I decided to go back down from Yixiantian and then turn right toward Nanqingyuan. From up there, neither of us could see any path turning right. Never mind, let's go down first.

At that moment, I noticed a small path right next to Yixiantian. The two of us took that path down. It was much easier, not as steep as Yixiantian. At the bottom fork, there was a sign saying "Sedan Chair Bearer Path." Well, I became a sedan bearer.

We continued down and finally saw signs pointing to Sanqing Palace and Nanqingyuan. The path was hidden by trees, no wonder we couldn't see it from the mountain.

The Crutch Guy was going to Wanshouyuan, and I was heading to Nanqingyuan. This was our third and final encounter. We said "Take care" to each other and parted ways.

This section of the road was relatively easy, mostly downhill, with nice scenery. Before long, I arrived at Dasanqing Hotel and entered the Nanqingyuan Scenic Area.

I met a group of tourists who had come up via the southern cable car.

From Dasanqing Hotel, it was basically climbing steps again. The scenery became more and more beautiful; everyone was excited and busy taking photos.

Continuing upward, the scenery kept changing. At this point, the young guy I had met in the morning caught up from behind. I said, "Weren't you going down the mountain?" He said, "I asked the staff to open the gate at 6 a.m. and climbed up from the south entrance (the cable car wasn't running yet). Because I got lost, I ran into you. Now I'm heading back; I've already walked over 4 hours of the wrong way." I said, "Impressive."

We chatted. I learned that he had recently quit his job in Shenzhen and had been driving alone on a trip for over ten days, sometimes sleeping in the car when tired. Last year, he also cycled to Tibet alone, over a month round trip, and his whole body except his teeth had turned black from the sun. I said, "I'm both impressed and moved."

He said he would go to Wuyishan tomorrow and asked if I wanted to go with him (no need to pay for the ride). I said "Thank you" repeatedly, grateful for his kindness, because I hadn't decided where to go yet (a good young man, so warm-hearted after only one meeting).

After walking about 40 minutes, I passed Rishang Mountain Villa and entered the West Coast Scenic Area. The West Coast is the longest and most expansive viewing corridor among the hanging plank roads in Sanqingshan and even in the world.

Along the way, sheer cliffs and steep walls stretched for kilometers—clouds, mountains, rocks, forests, flowers—all like unfolding scrolls of painting, intoxicating and mesmerizing, a feast for the eyes.

Climbing to the top, the plank road split into two: straight ahead led to Sanqing Palace Scenic Area, right to Sunshine Coast Scenic Area. Worried about time, I chose Sunshine Coast, while the young guy continued to Sanqing Palace, and we parted ways.

I walked about 100 meters toward Sanqing Palace to admire the "Monkey King Watching Treasure."

From the fork, there was a place called Red Flower Camellia Valley, with large areas of high-altitude tea bushes.

Entering Sunshine Coast Scenic Area, not only was there no sunshine, but thick fog slowly began to rise. I quickened my pace. By the roadside, many small squirrels and masked palm civets darted around waiting for people to feed them—very cute—but I had no time to linger.

Half an hour later, thick fog enveloped the entire area. I reached the earliest glass walkway in China (a pioneer of glass walkways). Strictly speaking, it was a glass observation platform. It was 3 meters long, 1.2 meters wide, protruding from the cement plank road, suspended hundreds of meters above the cliffs—one end on the cliff, the other extending over the deep valley, with a sheer drop of hundreds of meters below. In the fog, the depth was invisible, making the heart race.

I gathered my nerve and stepped onto it. I wanted someone to take a souvenir photo for me, but it was quiet all around. I waited.

After two or three minutes, two people hurried over from a distance. I quickly went up and asked them to take a photo for me. The younger one, who looked like a boss, said, "No problem." I asked why they were in such a hurry. They said they had to hurry to Wuyishan.

After taking my photo, they hurried on. When they reached the opposite side of the mountain, they called to me, "Bro, take a picture for us as a souvenir!" I said, "Sure." I took a photo of them from my side. Since they were very far away, I told them to wait and I would come over to take another.

I quickly ran over and took a photo from a few meters away. The young man said, "Can you send me the photo?" I said, "Why not? I'll send it when I get home." The young man said, "We work in Shenzhen. When you come to Shenzhen, be sure to look us up." I said I definitely would, and we kept in touch via WeChat (later I sent him the photo; he was very happy, praised my photography skills, and again sincerely invited me to be his guest in Shenzhen).

I walked alone for another twenty-plus minutes (other tourists probably went to other attractions because of the thick fog) when I suddenly saw something like a snake head flash by in the valley below (wrapped in thick fog). I guessed it was the head of the "Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain."

On the plank road, an elderly gentleman, about 80 years old, was focusing on photographing a small pine tree. Seeing that I also carried a camera, he said he was using multiple exposures and asked me to take a look. I leaned in and looked carefully, saying, "Master, your technique is superb, your photography is top-notch—you've captured the little pine tree vividly." The old gentleman was very pleased. He said he had been photographing this pine tree here for three hours and it was time to go back. I was astonished. What kind of spirit and perseverance supported him? This persistent pursuit of art—I couldn't do it, and I believe many young people couldn't either. He deserved respect and emulation.

I glanced at my phone; it was 12:25. I had been walking for over five hours. I was hungry, so I decided to eat lunch while waiting for the thick fog to clear.

After eating, I waited nearly another hour. The fog not only didn't clear but grew thicker. No more waiting—time to go down the mountain.

Soon, I reached another fork. Straight ahead led to Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain (Jinsha Cable Car), right was Yixiantian (which I had walked in the morning).

Retracing steps was impossible, so I headed toward Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain. In fact, I had circled Sanqingshan in a big loop, covering almost all scenic areas (except Sanqing Palace), and finally returned to the Jinsha Cable Car entrance.

Dozens of minutes later, I arrived at another side of Nanqingyuan. Although there was no sunlight here, it was not as thickly foggy as Sunshine Coast (nature is amazing; within the same mountain, the climate can be completely different). The scenery was very peculiar.

Another fork: upward to Yuhuangding, downward to Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain. My feet hurt too much, so I could only go down.

Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain is on the other side of Nanqingyuan, standing opposite the Goddess Peak. It is one of Sanqingshan's iconic landscapes and one of the three great wonders. It is a giant granite pillar formed by weathering and gravitational collapse, with several horizontal fractures on its body, but it has stood firm through hundreds of millions of years of wind and rain. It resembles a giant python, swallowing clouds and spitting mist, shaking heaven and earth, breaking out of the mountain, towering upright, as if about to soar into the sky (excerpt from the scenic spot introduction).

In 2019, a case of damaging the Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain site occurred, and the three defendants were sentenced by the court to pay 6 million yuan in compensation. It serves as a warning to protect the environment and respect nature.

Thick fog still enveloped the python. Standing at the foot of the mountain, I could only see its rough outline. I waited for over half an hour but couldn't get a clear view. Maybe this creature knew that I had been bitten by its kin and hid away to avoid being dealt with. Helpless, I finally took a picture from the display board—now you can't hide (see picture below).

The Goddess Peak was about 200 meters away. I decided to go see the goddess.

Passing by the "Penguins Offering Peaches," I arrived at Goddess Hotel. Due to the thick fog, the Goddess Peak was barely visible. Many tourists took composite photos as a psychological comfort.

The Goddess Peak ahead was like a shy maiden wearing a veil—or perhaps she didn't want me to see her clearly, hoping I would come again next time.

It was already 3 p.m. If I waited longer, the clouds and fog wouldn't dissipate. I would leave with some regret.

Fifty-plus minutes later, I exited the cable car gate, ending my visit to Sanqingshan.

After retrieving my luggage, I used Shangrao Bus Butler to book a minibus from Sanqingshan to Shangrao at 4:30 p.m. At around 6 p.m., the minibus arrived at Shangrao Railway Station (same station as the high-speed rail).

The sky was completely dark. Carrying my heavy travel backpack and dragging my weary steps, I walked toward the lights. After about 200-300 meters, a middle-aged woman asked if I needed accommodation. I didn't give a clear answer. She said, "I run a simple inn from my own home. It's not far. Come take a look; if it's not suitable, you can find somewhere else." I thought, I'm too tired; might as well check it out.

Soon we entered a residential area. It was a resettlement housing complex; villagers had converted their homes into simple inns. I looked around and thought it was okay, so I checked in (80 yuan per night).

After dinner, I continued treating my feet and planning the itinerary, preparing to visit Wuyishan tomorrow.

(Continues to Part 4)