Off We Go to the Holy Mountain: Bogeda

We all know by now that the Chinese like to do things in droves; that includes visiting sacred sites. It's just not the same without a bunch of people hanging around who can distract you from the grandeur of what's around you.

So on a balmy September afternoon we set out in a great squawking flapping flock of hikers to stampede over the sacred Bogeda. Local style.

We had the same strapping guide as the Sulaxia death march, Mr. Nine-Lives, who had apparently done the Bogeda trail upwards of ten times (averaging more than once a year).

This hike was mostly free of mishaps and missteps, but it was very very high, and very very cold. Our lips turned blue from lack of oxygen and my fingers turned purple from lack of circulation.



As usual, there were those whose hearts were bigger than their muscles or lungs, and huffed and heaved their way up the mountain and back down again only with the help of these beasts of burden.

We came out at Heavenly Lake, a popular tourist site that I had been too once before on a very foggy, very rainy day a couple years prior. At that time, literally all I saw was the tops of other people's heads and some clouds, so it was nice to come in the back way and see the lake without the outrageous entrance ticket and tour guides' competing loudspeakers.

We did get home safe and sound, but only after misunderstandings and mixups with the transportation back that had us stranded at the lake for a good several hours. A fellow hiker took this opportunity to get completely smashed and, just like Old Charioteer's Road, we had another obnoxious drunk on the bus alternating between goofy-happy, outraged, and passed out. What can you do ... give a Chinese male two hours of free time and a little pocket change, and what do they do with themselves?