Huangshan, China

Listen, if those two photos didn’t whet your appetite for what’s to come here at the Huangshan Mountain range, we might need to get you checked for a pulse. If you are relatively certain that you are alive and still find yourself dispassionate and otherwise blasé, go ahead and put two fingers to your wrist and/or neck in the name of assurance. If, now, you have discovered that you have no pulse, do not panic, as, for some, it can be muted and challenging to locate. This perceived absence, however, may indicate one, or several, arteries could, in all likelihood, be blocked. In which case, you could be a candidate for atherosclerosis or diabetes. You should probably schedule a visitation with your health care provider immediately and order a test known as a Doppler study to evaluate the blockages. Let him or her know Josh sent you and it might even get expedited - no promises though. Anyway, if you aren’t completely unnerved by now and have resolved to continue scrolling, thank you for your patronage, and… sorry to be the emissary of crummy news.

Thar she blows folks, the colossal and culturally exalted Huangshan Mountains – or for us gweilo, the much easier to pronounce, “Yellow Mountain!" Gweilo translates as foreign devil, for those of you devoid of such awesome linguistic scholarship. It’s actually a lot of fun to say. Try it! Gweilo, gweilo, gweilo. It sort of takes some of the sting out of its malicious pejorative scorn. I, for one, welcome the labeling, as, I am in fact, foreign to the country, and a devil. You actually kind of gotta hand it to the Chinese for nailing it on the head with that one. But I’ll tell you what, this gweilo is about to embark on some serious topographical scaling and there’s nothing any of you bigoted pieces of shit can do about it. Base to zenith, these feet are about to get busy! But before they do, I'd like to point out an easter egg that has just made itself apparent to me. The woman, in center, toting a finely-crafted six yuan walking stick, was a fun-loving part of our travel group. We kind of hit it off from the onset when, in passing on the airplane aisle, I off-handedly remarked to her, as she was standing on her seat grappling with the exasperating and all too ubiquitous plight of, "which tetris configuration will eventually allow the overhead compartment to shut after scarring as many pieces of luggage as possible?," that, she would, at some point during the flight, probably have to sit down. Pretty hilarious, I know. She, at least, got a minor kick out of it. That quip, also, may have even been the impetus for my peculiarity of character to thereby remind her of her son - something she often reiterated. Anyway, I can say with a reasonable degree of certainty, that the decision to exalt that first-rate obelisk of stability to the heavens as I expertly positioned this all through the eyepiece, was no mistake - which now, brings a, slice-of-life, hearty chuckle to this salty curmudgeon. Her, several other likeable companions, and I, stayed in touch with brief term following our departures. Who knows the myriad twists and turns of, "roads diverged in a wood" occurence, each has experienced since? Perhaps, this unknowing, is the greatest "slice-of-life" there is. Perhaps, in fact, it is the pie in its entirety.

Did I mention a cable car takes you the lion’s share of the way up? Still, when these feet eventually touch terra firma this shit is gonna be on like a telethon. Actually, I suppose most people wouldn’t tune into a telethon – I for sure wouldn’t – so I guess what I mean is, not like, “on” in the sense of being broadcasted before your eyes because you’ve chosen to view it, but, “on” in the sense that, once a telethon begins, it generally persists for quite some time. Extrapolating from this allusion, one might now be in understanding of, and maybe even appreciate, the very first simile that pathetically enlisted in the shitty circus of my mind. On the way up the cable car, one of my travel mates made an off-handed joke about how it would be funny if, seeing as the mist obscures anything slightly remote from you, as one ascends the mountain via locked tight cable car on one side, the cable cars descending oppositely to the other side emerge through the haze with full human skeletons within - just in time to make appearance before brushing by. To this day, that premise still brings a hearty chuckle to this salty curmudgeon - not to mention the occasional bloodcurdling, all-too-grippingly-real night terror.

Here are some other shots taken from the physically taxing and mentally wearing cable car ascent. It took several attempts to capture any images without sweat from my brow invariably finding its way to the lens. Had it not been for such inescapable technical hurdles, I would have delivered far more captures of this beast-like marvel of nature. So shut up and eat your meat, lest I deprive you of your pudding.

Phew! Terra firma reached and it’s officially time to open up those phone lines, cus this telethon is about to raise funds like they're going out of style! Here’s a frequently appearing crag shape thrusting from the mist like a Greek siren, as if to say, “I just don’t give a fuck.” That’s because it didn’t. This was a particularly surly crag. Man, it’s really hard to regard the word “crag” without conjuring up nostalgic memory of the Nickelodeon classic and Friday night lineup workhorse – “Nickelodeon Guts." This show was so ahead of its time, if it were anthropomorphized as a human, it would be draped from head to toe in lustrous, glossy, silver textile.

Note the multitude of sweat formed layer upon layer on my skin, as if a colony of worker ants assiduously erected it after days of endless toil – the upshot of unimaginable physical struggle. Once you’re done acknowledging that, feast thine eyes on the shit in the background if you like. It’s pretty cool I guess.

There is but one word to describe the ineffable Huangshan experience, and that is “majestic." Hey, I thought ineffable meant that which defies the ability to be expressed? Shut up you! No one would have even thought twice about that introduction had you not seen fit to interject. Nobody likes an interloper asshole. Where was I? Oh yeah, majestic. This word gets tossed around the internet with reckless semantic abandon all too often. And that’s a shame, because the full brunt of that word shouldn’t be tempered. This shit right here is the stuff ancient Chinese scrolls and modern videogame backgrounds are made of. I’ll be the first person to submit that a bald eagle atop an American flag is, indeed, majestic as fuck, but, still, that image pales in comparison to what we have here. For those keeping score at home: US: 234723846, China: 1.

You see that cluster of buildings over yonder? The one comfortably nestled in such a splendiferous location your puny mind's imagination would need to hire several artisans skilled in multifarious trades just to produce a crudely inferior variation of it. Well, one of those structures happens to be a hotel. Would you like to use that puny mind to take a swing at an inference off the softball tee I just erected for you? You guessed it gumshoe; this is where many of the Chinese rich and famous spend a comfortable and rewarding night’s rest after conquering the mountain. I stayed on a cot out back.

No caption needed here. Although, I guess that was, in and of itself, a caption. You win this battle syllogistics, but our war will drag on bitterly and stubbornly until I’m one day pushing daisies. Not as a florist or anything, I was employing a metaphor about death. Just wanted to clear that up in case there were any misconceptions.

Sheesh mist, can you cut a guy a break? I didn’t painstakingly ascend half this mountain through the ingenuity of modern mechanization for you to turn everything into a fictitious scene of what I picture whenever I hear “The Monster Mash." Had their been a band of ghouls assembled together in union sharing equally concerted intentions for fun, this would be an absolute dead ringer in fact. 

Remember that majestic shit I was waxing poor man poetically about earlier? Well, I lost my SD card with the photos embodying that grandiose claptrap. Best I can do for you are these guys. Not exactly desktop background worthy, but someone might find utility in one for, say, a facebook cover image. Just remember to give credit where credit is due - to Ahura Mazda, the great Zoroastrian creator of heaven and earth. All appropriate reverence for divinity aside, I feel like this would be a good place to leave a quote from former Chairman Deng Xiaoping, "Huangshan is a good place where tourism can prosper. You must boast about it and make it known to the world." I haven’t exactly vetted this, but I’m gonna go ahead and say it was uttered and is a, more or less, consummate translation. Well former Chairman Deng Xiaoping, I hope I’m channeling your wishes appropriately here. If I hadn’t lost that SD card, I wouldn’t even have to question the efficacy. In a rare memorandum of factual inclusion, I would also note, my boy, former Chairman Deng Xiaoping, whilst 75 years young, actually climbed the full extent of the mountain without aid of cable car. While I maintain he was just showing off, I’m still willing to extend some minor props his way. In another, increasingly less rare, memorandum of factual inclusion, I would also like to relay the tale of a member of my travel group. Said member was, let's just say, of the more senior Jewishy variety. While her ethnic division is not of any paramount importance, it kind of would be if you could know her. Unfortunately, you cannot, and even worse so, I'm a lazy, shitty raconteur incapable of transmitting character description of relevance. If this superfluous inclusion offends anyone out there, however, please let me state that my father is Jewish, and thus, I feel, I am somewhat liberated to employ words as I have. I know, according to Jewish faith, the mother must be Jewish in order to officially pass down whatever that mysticism is all about, which is not the case in my example, however, I think that edict really should be amended in light of modern DNA testing. Nonetheless, I do know the value of a dollar and did apply this sacred code in myriad haggling skirmishes throughout China. It's funny actually, the differences between, what amounted to a few cents, precluded me from obtaining artifacts I genuinely had my heart set on. Shit, that alone should extend me a lifelong Jew card with intricate hologram strata. Anyway, this senior Jew, despite being in possession of a splendid six yuan walking stick, found herself in the unfortunate position of being unable to complete the descent back down. Former Chairman Deng Xiaoping, she was not. Luckily, the Chinese, pragmatic and accommodating as ever, offered a service, in which four wiry, yet deceptively strong, men would chauffeur one down the mountain atop a plush chair. Just imagine that shit. This was no featherweight senior Jew either. I mean, she wasn't morbidly obese or anything either, but she could have stood some dietary monitoring. These men escorted her down with a casual ease most sherpa with significant tenure traipsing across the Himalaya couldn't even begin to approach - all for the paltry amount of, perhaps, $30 or so. I highly regret not employing their service as well, as I'm sure I could have haggled it down a bit more, especially if I flashed my holographic Jew card so they knew what they were getting into from the jump.

Hey, let’s see what this bad boy looks like via scrutiny of the dawn of another, entitled and criminally fortunate, new day. Appears to remain majestic as fuck. I’ll have to run a thorough diagnostic evaluation before I can commit that conclusion to parchment, but until then, I think it’s pretty safe to, at the very least, rate this whole experience as marginally adequate, if not above average. Thanks for the memories Huangshan. I know it may be of only trifling substance, but it is possible I have contributed to the establishment of, perhaps one, maybe even two, new facebook cover images. In all likelihood, probably not, but sometimes rose tints is all we’ve got. Speaking of rose tints, I’m sure many of you have come across similar padlock congregations to the one above. Naïvely smitten couples will secure one engraved with name, or otherwise unique nature, in commemoration of their unions and love shared while traversing whatever location it is they’ve left it in, with hopes of one day returning, finding it together, and experiencing the rapture of initial memory nostalgically reverberated. I wonder just how many couples see this lofty intention out to fruition. I’m not even trying to be sardonic here, as hard as that may be to accept. I’d just like to get some statistics compiled. It might actually shed some keen insight into the prosperity of relationships involving individuals with joint open-air interest. Myself, enjoying a good romp through Mother Nature, might find said statistics useful in portending possibility of benign future with potential partners sharing the same passion. I, of course, wouldn’t do some dumb shit like leave a lock on a mountain chain, not to mention, I had no genuine interest in speculative mathematics, and was, indeed, being sardonic. I do graciously extend, though, only my most bona fide hopes towards those couples.