The Hiking Journals I - Wong Lung Hang Trail
I must say I am no sportsperson, not to mention hiking. As a person who fails to attempt any type of exercise, perhaps this was a bold move to accept my relative’s request by saying: “Why not?”
And so this happened.
We woke up at 6am, preparing ourselves with sufficient amount of water and rations, and extra clothes just in case we get ourselves covered with soil and sweat. I am not much of an early person; but according to professional hikers, 6am was already a tad bit late.
“There is no way I will be up at this rate of time on the next day,” I thought to myself.
We left home at 7; each of us had a backpack and trust me, carrying three bottles of water (2 litres each to be exact) was too much for my back. An early breakfast to start the day – and we set off for Tung Chung, which was approximately 10 miles away from where we live.
By the time we reached Tung Chung the time was already 8, and weather was becoming a pain in the arse as temperatures soared up to 32 degrees Celsius. Unbearable as it might have been, we all had to endure this hot and humid weather. As we met up our relatives, we then began our long journey up to Wong Lung Hang to search for the waterfalls; that was something I never expected to see in the tiny place of Hong Kong.
“How far is it to reach Wong Lung Hang Countryside from Tung Chung?” I asked.
“About 30 minutes; we will have to pass a few villages before reaching there. Out of breath already?” Not quite. It was only the beginning. 30 minutes of walking was like 2 bloody hours to me; I was already sweating at that time and the stench was evident.
We reached a tiny village not far from Tung Chung called New Chek Lap Kok Village, which was mainly inhabited by local Hongkongers. The reason why it was ‘new’ is because the current Chek Lap Kok area is the Hong Kong International Airport; it used to be a tiny village but was demolished in 1998 and moved to another area due to the opening of the new airport.
It was already 9:00 when we got to the first village. Still no sign of the Wong Lung Hang signpost. As we got to a slight inclination I instantly knew that we were not far from it.
“The challenge has begun.”
9:30am: We finally arrived at the Wong Lung Hang Campsite; the place was pretty much empty despite the fact that there were lots of hikers waiting at the station. So I asked:
“I thought many people were about to go hiking.” “No-“
“You won’t be expecting many people in here; they rarely go hiking in Wong Lung Hang. You’ve chosen to take in one of the hardest routes in Hong Kong, hence the lack of hikers.”
Oh, so that’s why. We took a short break before moving on until we got to a dead end. At this point I knew we wouldn’t be hiking at all; we would be climbing up huge piles of rocks and steep mountains in order to get the waterfalls.
“This way,” said one of my relatives. “Must not dillydally on our way if we want to reach our destination earlier!” The roads became harder to walk and shortly we arrived at a tiny reservoir, and in front of us was the challenge of the year. Rocks and more rocks and they were steeper as we looked up.
Crossing the reservoir wasn’t as easy as it seems; we had to swim across the reservoir in order to get to the first pile of gravel and rocks. But that was just the beginning. We started walking on unsteady rocks and making sure we don’t step on mossy ones. To my surprise, walking and climbing up the mountain was quite refreshing; the only thing I didn’t like sweat. I absolutely enjoyed mother nature.
“How far till we get to the first waterfall?” “Not far!”
This was an absolute lie of course; a technique to keep one going before he or she starts to become weary. Luckily I was aware of the time; it was 11:00am when we crossed the tiny reservoir.
Our legs were already a tad bit sore even though we weren’t halfway through the mountains. The rocks became steeper than before. We stopped for a while and had a few snacks: some sandwiches, fruits and energy drinks to keep us going for the rest of the journey. The sounds of stream, birds chirping and insects flying around us made us relaxed – something that is commonly found in the countryside of England but nowhere to be found anywhere in Hong Kong.
We rested for about 30 minutes before moving on – I can’t fully remember whether it was another hour or two before we finally got to the first waterfall. Apparently it is the largest and the most beautiful; professional hikers enjoy a bit of booze and music by the waterfall.
“Finally!” I thought to myself.
All of us had a swim in the pond and took pictures by the waterfall. It was grand, exquisite and refreshing – the first four hours risking my life to reach that far was definitely worth it. I didn’t even bother taking off my clothes and jumped into the pond, while others followed suit. I didn’t even want to leave; I knew there wouldn’t be another chance if I stepped out of the pond, so I requested for an extra 30 minutes. That wasn’t much was it? And so we all stayed there, had a few snacks and continued on swimming. Jubilant as ever, it would be a shame to just take a few photos then leave.
2pm: We began setting off to the second fountain, which was even higher up in the mountains and things became trickier – we literally had to start climbing with just a rope that was entangled amongst branches. The gaps between rocks were huge; my shorts weren’t stretchy enough and I obviously struggled, but not for long. To be honest with you, if there wasn’t a rope, we wouldn’t even stand a chance.
“Don’t look down,” my mum warned me as we continued climbing up. I got curious and I looked down, only to see people that were about 40 metres above the ground. Yes I was a bit terrified, and I knew if I placed my foot on some loose rubble, that would have been the end of my life. As we continued on climbing, I accidentally bumped my knee into some sort of rock, and does it hurt you ask – a tiny bit yes, it was slightly bleeding but nothing serious. Ultimately I got a swollen bruise which was pretty much inevitable.
We kept on climbing and climbing until we finally reached the second waterfall. It was smaller than the first one but still extraordinary. Suddenly we heard thunder coming from the distance
and the weather seemed to turn dimmer than usual.
“It’s raining in the New Territories. We’ll have to leave as soon as we can before it starts to rain - otherwise we’ll be stuck up here.”
So climbing up the hill was already a challenge, climbing DOWN the hill was even worse. Why? Because you couldn’t even see the rocks below you, and your limbs must be steady before you make a move. Deep inside I already lost my wits, but I had to suck it up and grasped tightly onto the rope, and started climbing as the others followed. Sadly we didn’t manage to get to the third waterfall; apparently it is at the top of the mountains and it is fiendishly hard to get there – you ought to be an expert unless you don’t wish to live.
I forgot to mention this, but I was the youngest of all, a mere 20-year-old boy who is unfit and out of shape. As the group were walking swiftly ahead I was staggering behind; my limbs were about to fall off and I felt like I was bloody 65. My stamina was deficient and I felt like my soul was taken away from my body. “No more,” I told myself.
By the time we got back to the bottom of the mountain, it was already 5pm and we were all safe. The total journey was nearly 8 hours – tiring yet fruitful; at least I have managed to lose a few hundred calories. It was not until today I have learnt that several people actually succumbed to their wounds from falling off slippery rocks, and a young girl drowned whilst swimming in the pond. Glad I didn’t know this at the very beginning. I will, however, have to confess that despite the eloquent scenery, never will I ever find myself climbing up these rocks again for the rest of my life. That concludes my first and last hiking journey of the year.
M xx
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