A Journey Imagined

Excitement and giddiness quickly turn to nerves looking up at what seems like, and I am sure is going to feel like, a near 90 degree ascent. I am already starting to sweat under multiple layers of clothing. I grab the guard rail and slowly follow behind a stream of climbers like a row of ants crawling up the leg of a picnic table. The block steps are worn, steep, and slick under a layer of ice. It’s slow going, but I am finally here on the Great Wall of China. I can’t help but hold up traffic to stop and marvel as the Wall ebbs and flows along the mountain range. My breath is taken away, literally.

Half way up the mountain I am convinced that more than one person at the China National Tourism Administration has done this climb because out of the corner of my eye I see a gift shop. Is this for real? Yes, yes it is. Admittedly a bottle of water wouldn’t hurt right about now. Inside the green canvas tent is an array of “Made in China” souvenirs. I feel a sense of shame that commercialism of one of the world’s greatest treasures has come to this point. I can’t bring myself to buy into it so I forgo the bottle of water. It's time to head back down anyway.

I see a gate just outside the tent. There are no signs, no arrows, nothing to indicate that gingerly climbing back down the icy steps of the Wall isn’t the only option. A young couple joins me as we dare each other who will go first. The only sound I hear is an elderly worker about 100 paces below me breaking up ice with his shovel. I hesitate and let the couple begin ahead of me. I will follow in their footsteps. We are the only travelers on the path. It’s a welcome change from the ant trail.

I am at peace here on the zig-zag path in the rift between two mountains. The couple is now far ahead of me and elderly work far behind. The crowds on the Wall above me no longer exist. I can’t see them nor do I hear them. My feet are crunching on the icy path and the crisp air is a nice respite from the Florida heat at home. I have left all civilization behind and for the first time I am sensing what it must have been like for the ancient Chinese who came to this area to build the Wall.

Another surprise awaits as I reach the bottom. I am led me to a picturesque temple. A shovel and broom are propped up in the doorway, but snow in the courtyard has yet to be swept. I look back up and the path has vanished in the crevasse between the mountains keeping it’s secret for those lucky enough to find it.