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| XinDian River |
Friday we went to Yilan, a city close to the beach on the Western coast of Taiwan. Sadly, I don't have much to say about Yilan because it was a little bit of a letdown. First, we didn't actually get to the beach until around 4 p.m. Secondly, the weather was unfortunately really overcast, cold, and windy. And thirdly, and most importantly, there wasn't a whole lot to do. I think as a result of not planning at all for Tainan and having it turn out so successful I developed a little bit of traveling hubris. I rode the momentum of Tainan into Yilan and unfortunately came up short. What made matters worse is that, when we finally left that night, it took us a whole 2 and a half hours to get back to Taipei. What should have been a 45 minute trip was lengthened tremendously by the fact that we were caught in an onslaught of traffic, as apparently everyone was making their way back in to Taipei at the tail end of the New Year. We finally made it back around 930, after which we rushed over to Macho Tacos (the best, if only Mexican joint in town) to salvage the day with a burrito. After that we met up with some co-workers for drinks, darts, and billiards. And it was then that we all decided on our plans for Sunday, which would end up being the most eventful and excitement-filled day of the weekend by far.
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| beach at Yilan |
Sunday, February 6th
Every Sunday, a group called the "China Hash House Harriers" holds a kind of hiking-race through the mountains somewhere around Taiwan. Fellow Hess employee Dennis was the first one to try it out, and has since become a very involved member of the group. In turn, he got my roommate Ari hooked on them. Since that point, Ari had tried getting me to go several times, but for whatever reason I was never in the mood. I either felt too unprepared or too unmotivated to go, especially during the bitterly cold and rainy Sundays of January. I promised I would go "eventually", but continued to push it off. Even if on Wednesday or Thursday I said I was for sure going, I always seemed to change my mind by the time Sunday rolled around. But this Sunday was different. Even though I had been out drinking the night before, I woke up rather energized. And more importantly, unlike the Sundays in January, this Sunday was exceptionally beautiful. 73 degrees, sunny and warm, no breeze, and not even the slightest possibility of rain. Especially considering I still had the following day off from work, I figured there was absolutely no excuse not to go this time. There just simply wasn't going to be a better day.
This particular race "hash" took place in the mountains of Neihu right outside of Dahu Park, which was interesting since I had actually already hiked there once (see "Medicinal Mountain"). That said, the two experiences couldn't have been more different. All along I had just told everyone that I was doing it for fun and my main goal, given my absolutely horrid sense of direction, was not getting lost. And while this was partly true, my inner competitive instinct really wanted me to succeed as well. Considering myself a decent runner and moderately in-shape, I figured the race wouldn't be all that difficult and that I could finish towards the top without much of a problem. HA. Yeah freaking right.
The "hash" produced burning and pain in muscles that I didn't even know existed until that point. Being a decent runner for this race was about as useful as using steroids before a curling competition. Within 10 minutes of climbing steeply up hill, I was panting. Within 20 minutes, my entire body was covered in sweat. The race alternated between steep inclines (sometimes so intense that you actually had to use a rope to climb up) and declines, where basically you just slid down--grabbing on to trees every so often to keep yourself from tumbling down (frankly those parts felt a lot more like skiing than running). Occasionally, there was a break in the trees and I was able to get a magnificent view of the Neihu mountains. Simply breathtaking stuff. By the end of the 75 minutes, my legs felt like jello and my eyes were stinging from the sweat. While I may have abandoned hopes of being in the top 3 about 10 minutes in, I still felt proud as I was to able to finish 10th or so, only a few minutes behind the leaders.
After everyone finished, then the real fun began. A ceremony called "down-downs" occurred, where the GM (Grand Master) basically called up anyone and everyone he wished to take shots of beer. As a "hash virgin", I was called up to take a couple shots of beer and do a dance. In between drinking, the GM made fun of everyone, using the foulest language and dirtiest humor I think I had ever heard. It was freaking hilarious. It was like an hour of stand-up comedy that made anything you've ever seen on South Park look like a Focus on the Family TV special.
Once the down-downs wrapped up, everyone was off for the post-hash "bash"--a dinner that allegedly provided bottomless food and drinks. And while the food part was admittedly a let-down, the drinks definitely weren't. "The beer flowed like wine." The group that proudly embraces the "drinking group with a running problem" tag certainly lived up to its name. So even though it took me several weeks to finally do one, and I may or may not have been hating life during the actual hash, I was very content by the end of the night. I had found a new community in Taipei. And the next time the weather permitted, I would be back at it again.
