Zhangjiajie Self-Guided Tour: Snowy Zhangjiajie
Snow is a good thing for me as a photography lover, since I had never seen real snow. I had long heard how beautiful Zhangjiajie's snow scenery is, and this year I couldn't miss it. I only arrived in Zhangjiajie city at 8 pm. Winter there is very cold, so I found a two-star hotel to stay in, planning to head to Zhangjiajie early the next morning.
This article is compiled from the original travel notes on the "Zhangjiajie Tour Guide Network" (33519.com); it is a record of trips from earlier years. Time-sensitive information such as ticket prices, schedules, and accommodation prices is subject to the latest announcements from scenic areas and transportation authorities; the itinerary ideas and attraction introductions still have reference value.
Snow — for me, who loves photography, this is a good thing, because I had never seen real snow before. I had long heard about how beautiful the snow scenery in Zhangjiajie is, and this year I absolutely could not miss it. I only arrived in Zhangjiajie city at 8 in the evening. Zhangjiajie's winter weather is very cold. I found a two-star hotel to stay in, planning to head to Zhangjiajie Forest Park early the next morning. The single room in the hotel had powerful air-conditioning heating, and lying on the bed was very comfortable. Traveling alone, there's no need to say much about loneliness; sometimes there is even a feeling of being helpless and alone. I imagined Zhangjiajie as a fairyland, fantasized about romance, and pictured encountering a beauty among the mist-shrouded mountains. Before I knew it, the alarm clock rang, and it turned out it was already early morning the next day. As soon as I went out, there was so much snow outside, everything was white, truly extremely beautiful, and I couldn't wait to head to Zhangjiajie Forest Park! After leaving the hotel, I bought a scenic area map at a small shop next to the bus station and set off.
It takes 50 minutes by bus from the city to the Forest Park. On the minibus there were 2 brightly dressed MM tourists: one with a round face, one with a red face, both petite. So I struck up a conversation and learned that they were a group of 3; the red-faced one and the handsome young guy beside her were a couple, and the round-faced one was the third wheel. They had also hired a Tujia brother as a guide. I thought, since I'm single anyway, I'll just join them and play along, to balance out their male-to-female ratio. When we got off the bus, the snow on the ground was still very thick, enough to cover my shoes.
So we bought tickets outside, bought straw sandals, brushed off the many grassroots guides and vendors who crowded around, and led by the Tujia guide through the fingerprint recognition system, my feet finally stepped into the famous Zhangjiajie Forest Park! The first thing that came into view were steep peaks rising straight from the flat ground one after another; my heart was filled with excitement. Looking at the happy MM I had just met beside me, my heart felt light, even though I was still carrying a backpack weighing twenty or thirty jin. After passing the Great Oxygen Bar Square, we saw a huge lovers' lock.
The guide said that if you're single and take a photo inside it, you'll soon have a romantic encounter afterward, and if a young couple takes a photo inside it together, it means eternal union! In order to have a romantic encounter, the round-faced one in our group quickly ran inside and beat us all to be the first, haha, even more anxious than me!
Jinbian Stream is a clear stream tucked between steep high mountains. The stream gurgles, and everywhere is a vast white expanse, accompanied by dense green trees and unknown birds with beautiful songs; it is a treat for hearing, sight, and smell. Part of the stream water is melted snow from the mountains, and part is excess water after the peaks absorb rainfall to saturation; ultimately it flows into Dongting Lake. The mountains on both sides are masterpieces of nature; each mountain rises straight from the ground like a skyscraper, and the cliff walls and the ground are mostly at 90 degrees. The relative height of the mountains is as much as four or five hundred meters for the tall ones and several dozen meters for the low ones. Some mountains are linked together like conjoined twins, while others stand proudly alone, with a reddish color. Because these mountains are quartz sandstone, relatively loose in texture, they are not suitable for rock climbing. But precisely because of the loose texture, the mountains have strong water absorption capacity and can absorb water from the foot of the mountain to the top. There is a saying here: "However high the mountain is, the water is just as high." This is also why green trees grow on the barren land on the mountain tops.
Because the round-faced one wore a Miao-style skirt bought in Fenghuang, directly over her outdoor pants, we nicknamed her Little Skirt. Little Skirt was dressed in bright reds and greens, chattering all the way, lively like a little character in a children's cartoon. The red-faced one had an obvious feature; her face was rosy like an imported premium Red Fuji apple, so we called her Little Red. The handsome young guy hadn't shaved for a few days, but his beard was neat and well-placed, making him look very stylish, so we called him Little Mustache. The guide's surname was Li, and everyone called him Xiangzi. Along the way, the few of us chatted and laughed, very happy.
Zhangjiajie's attractions fall into three types: one is where the shape of the mountain resembles a person, one is where a central leader has visited and inscribed words or a well-known TV station has filmed exterior scenes here, and one is where the scene is open and suitable for photos. Most of the first type are far-fetched, such as Pigsy Carrying His Wife; on closer look, a mushroom-shaped big tree grows on Pigsy's nose, like the spray from a whale surfacing to breathe. Therefore, I think when the guide explains each attraction, it doesn't matter whether you listen or not; natural landscapes are three parts appearance and seven parts imagination, so experience them yourself. The guide's greater role is to lead the way and explain local customs. Last night in the city, because the air conditioning was on while sleeping, I couldn't feel how cold it was; looking at the ice on these branches, you can tell how cold it is.
Walking the entire length of Jinbian Stream takes 2 hours, and there were a few more tourists along the way. As we walked, a large group of tourists appeared ahead, stopping for some unknown reason. Just as we saw clearly that they were looking at monkeys, a huge monkey climbed over with a fierce look in its eyes, and a bag of snacks in the hands of the MM in our group was snatched away by the monkey in an instant. At this moment I stepped forward, kicked a few times into the air, and scared the group of monkeys that arrived afterward back a few steps, but most of the food in the bag was still snatched away. The monkeys nimbly peeled paper and ate candy, looking very funny, so our anger turned to laughter. One monkey put a whole orange into its mouth, and in less than two seconds spat out the peel, having eaten all the inside. Some monkeys snatched a few peanuts and then scrambled up the tree, staying alone in the tree to eat; below the tree you could only see its red bottom and the peanut shells thrown down. It is said that monkeys never snatch things from locals, only from tourists; when they see young MMs passing by, they sometimes run over to harass them, grabbing hands and hugging legs, similar to the Xiangxi bandits before liberation who robbed money and lusted after women. As the saying goes, when there is no tiger in the mountain, the monkey becomes king. Monkeys have sharp claws on both hands and feet. If they come up to snatch things, it's best to let go, otherwise you'll be scratched. Although they are not large in size, they are fast; in a real bare-handed fight, one adult man might not be able to beat them. However, if your gaze is fierce enough or you have a stick in your hand, they will also be very afraid of you.
A very bad tourist used a slingshot to shoot them, looking even more savage than the monkeys that had just snatched our things, so we walked away. In Zhangjiajie, the forest is big, so there are all kinds of people. After walking nearly a quarter of the way, we saw a very large snowman built by the friends ahead, like Pigsy, truly extremely cute!
Because the weather was cold, we unanimously voted not to take the elevator up and chose to walk up the mountain. We took a short rest at the "Qianli Xianghui" scenic spot and prepared to go up. The uphill path was all steps, more than 3,800 of them! The height was about 500 meters! It sounded a bit frightening. Later we found a local to help carry the luggage, gave him 20 yuan, and only then set off. This mountain uncle carrying the luggage always had a smiling look all the way; even doing the tiring work of climbing with a load, he could keep smiling, which was really not simple. The girls couldn't manage; as soon as they climbed the mountain, they all turned pale with fright!
Coming to Zhangjiajie in winter, what you come to see is the snow scenery—the heavier the snow, the better. I was very lucky to see a good snowfall that Zhangjiajie had not seen in twenty years. Heavy snow closing the mountain made the scenery even more beautiful, but after the branches and leaves were coated with ice, the excessive weight would cause them to suddenly snap, bringing danger to tourists; broken branches blocked the paths, making it hard for pedestrians to pass; the environmental buses on the mountain also stopped running, making rapid movement between different scenic spots impossible, and since the distance between some spots is as far as 10 kilometers, walking the whole way on foot is not realistic; the Forest Park management office also closed off some of the more perilous scenic spots, reducing the places tourists could visit. Despite the many difficulties, I thought that a bit of danger makes it more fun. Otherwise, one might as well go climb Baiyun Mountain in Guangzhou. What we play for is the thrill, and what is tested is our willpower. As soon as we went up the mountain, the higher we walked, the thicker the accumulated snow became. The leaves were all wrapped in a layer of ice, crystal clear like amber, while the branches and trunks were also encased in icicles, becoming icy-boned and jade-like.
Everywhere across the mountains was this kind of beauty—so enchanting. The stone steps up the mountain twisted and turned, and with every bend we turned, we saw a different scene. The higher the mountain, the more breathtaking the scenery, and along the way our exclamations of "wow" never stopped. When we were almost near the summit, the view was extremely open. Looking as far as the eye could see, the distant mountains rose one after another without end, and heaven and earth were a vast expanse of white. Whether great trees or small grasses, whether mountain paths or flat ground, all were white with such holiness and sublimity. Looking down, the gorge was bottomless, filling one's heart with vastness.
We bent down and gave a great shout toward the gorge below. The sound traveled around the mountain, stirring the heart, as if the mountains held a spiritual essence. Somewhere halfway up the mountain, a few strong men heard us and responded with a round of ghostly howls and wolfish cries, full of gusto.
It took us more than two hours in total to complete the route of over 3,800 steps. After reaching the summit and eating lunch, snowflakes began to dance through the sky. We visited scenic spots on the Yuanjiajie tour route such as Mihun Terrace and the Number One Bridge Under Heaven. The so-called Number One Bridge Under Heaven is a long, flat natural slab of rock connecting a "single line of sky" between two adjacent steep peaks. This natural stone bridge has an absolute height of 350 meters—truly a natural wonder.
There were especially many Korean tourists here, and most of them were middle-aged women. Because the steps all had railings, there was no danger. But accidents were not entirely absent. At one point Xiangzi was standing on a mountain path talking with me, with a cliff on one side and a large tree overhead. Suddenly I heard a crackling sound. I looked up and saw that from the tree above Xiangzi, a large mass of fine snow was falling down. Xiangzi quickly jumped aside, and suddenly with a loud crash, a large broken tree trunk fell down and landed exactly where Xiangzi had been standing. If he had been one step slower, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Had it been an elderly Korean woman with poor mobility, she might have been crushed. This kind of sudden snapping of trunks and branches gives no warning beforehand. Fortunately, there is a time gap between the fine snow falling and the branch collapsing. The best thing to do is, when you hear the fine snow falling, quickly look up and identify the danger spot. As long as you move fast, you can generally dodge in time. The weight of a snow chunk plus half a rock, if the tree is very tall, can also be deadly when it falls, and a falling trunk is even more dangerous.
The guide arranged for us to stay in a family guesthouse at Wulong Village on the mountain. The conditions were actually quite good; it was just that the mountain was much colder than below. At night everyone gathered around the fire pit to warm themselves and chat. In fact, there had once been many luxury hotels on Zhangjiajie's mountain. After it was included in the United Nations natural heritage list in 1992, in order to avoid overdevelopment, the original large hotels were all ordered demolished, leaving only a few farmhouses. This is indeed a good thing. You can see that Zhangjiajie's management is very standardized and environmental protection is very well done. Now if you want to stay on the mountain, apart from the more than 300 beds at the Number One Bridge Under Heaven in Yuanjiajie, there are also Yangjiajie and Tianzi Mountain scenic areas, which together have only a few hotels with no more than 1,000 beds in total. All the hotels on the mountain look like farmhouse bungalows and have no names, possibly to guard against surprise inspections by the United Nations. Tour groups are absolutely not allowed to stay overnight on the mountain; only independent travelers are permitted. There are more hotels below the mountain, and the ones in Suoxiyu are relatively famous.
As darkness fell, the whole mountain became utterly silent. There were no insect chirps, no calls of livestock, only a few farmhouses used as guesthouses standing lonely and close together amid the vast dark forest. The piercing cold of the mountain wrapped around the houses. Inside, in the center of the living room, was a table, and around it sat several of us. Beneath the table was a fire warmer, glowing with warmth. On this day when heavy snow had sealed the mountain, a few lonely travelers from afar in the guesthouse sat around the fire warmer chatting, like a big family of some primitive tribe. This beauty of returning to simplicity made me feel something real and vivid. The relationship between people is originally about gathering together for warmth, not turning one's back and becoming enemies.
When I got up the next morning, I hadn't expected that the snow had accumulated another very thick layer, and even thick ice strips hung from the eaves—it truly exceeded my expectations.
After breakfast, we set off again. Heading northwest, the destination was Wulong Village in Yangjiajie. We first walked along the mountain-top road covered in thick snow. There used to be environmental buses here, but now they had stopped operating. On the broad road there were no other visitors, only thick snow and scattered footprints. On one side of the road were cliffs, with an open view and fresh air. The trees on the other side of the road were all dressed in silver and wrapped in fluff. The few of us wore red, blue, and yellow windproof jackets, wandering through the snow-white mountains, embellishing this magical white. I imagined Snow White, as beautiful and lovely as the white snow before my eyes. I imagined Gandalf the White from The Lord of the Rings. I imagined that a red Santa Claus might suddenly appear on the mountain, riding a dog-drawn sleigh, ringing bells and laughing heartily at me, telling me that Snow White lived on the other side of the mountain. I thought that love witnessed on a snow-covered mountain is true love. Is the distance between reality and ideals really so far? I did not want to think further. I did not want the worldly to invade at this moment my heart, which was as soft as snow that had never been trampled.
"Let me hold your hand, so I don't fall." Little Skirt said. Although she was a stranger I had just met, these words still moved me deeply. Little Skirt was very happy, holding my hand, swaying her head, looking at the sky, pointing at the ground, showing how innocent she was. She even asked me to sing a song, and when tired from walking, she used the white snow on the road as a bed and lay straight down.
The path we had taken was completely covered by heavy snow. In order to get to a viewing platform, we had to advance through the snow, because the path was entirely blocked by broken branches or low shrubs, and our postures were all quite ungraceful. A tourist from Guangdong said we were walking the path of foxes and mountain pheasants. Once we reached the viewing platform, it suddenly opened up. The platform was above a vertical cliff, and looking out, a multitude of peaks all came into view.
More challenges were still ahead. We were going to see the bandit lair, Wulong Village. Many friends born in the 1970s should still remember the TV series "Story of Suppressing Bandits in Wulong Mountain." Scenes were filmed here at Wulong Village at the time, and before liberation Wulong Village had always been a bandit stronghold. It is well known that Xiangxi produced bandits, but how exactly the bandits lived still had to be seen with one's own eyes. Bandits always chose perilous places as strongholds. Several places in Wulong Village were so narrow that one man could hold the pass against ten thousand. Add to that the slippery snow and blocking broken trees, and our progress was very difficult. Along the way we even had to crawl through a cave. The cave entrance was small and high, so someone had to pull from above and someone push from below for us to climb up. Then we climbed a slope that was both slippery and steep, and next passed through a very narrow stone crevice. After experiencing dangers such as slipping, getting stuck, and being scratched by branches, we finally, treading in the footsteps of the former bandits and panting heavily, arrived at the village on the summit. For such a short stretch of road, everyone spent nearly an hour. When I was little I heard that bandits all hid deep in the mountains and old forests, and those words were true.
After going up into the village, we saw that this village had formerly been the place where the bandit chief recruited a village wife and held ceremonies. There was a grand master's chair and also a homemade cannon. The bandits who made the mountain their kingdom seemed to live quite comfortably. With beauties accompanying them, roaming among the mountains and waters! Everyone took turns sitting in the grand master's chair for photos, still holding the branches used for climbing. And because we had just been rolling and crawling up the mountain, all dignity had been swept away, and we all looked like Xiangxi bandits who had come from elsewhere.
We also climbed up to the very perilous Tianbo Mansion. The Tianbo Mansion area was where the bandits had formerly set up machine guns and hidden gold and silver treasures. If there had been no snow, perhaps our journey here would not have been so remarkable, but because of the ice and snow, all the artificial handrails along the mountain path were covered in ice, extremely slippery and hard to grip, and it was indeed somewhat dangerous. Tianbo Mansion is located on a platform atop an extremely high peak. The platform is very small, less than twenty square meters. Only after crossing a small iron-chain bridge and climbing an almost vertical iron ladder could one get up there. Although standing on Tianbo Mansion made my legs a little weak, looking at the surrounding mountains all bowing in submission, a sense of achievement rose spontaneously. This magnificent scene could rival the location shots of any Hollywood blockbuster.
The highest level of climbing a mountain in the snow is wearing flat leather shoes, a suit, no trekking pole, and walking with only two legs—that refers to Xiangzi. The beginner-level climber not only has to wear hiking shoes, waterproof clothing and pants, and rely on a trekking pole and straw sandals, but also has to go on all fours, and when going downhill even add the buttocks, for a total of five points of support—that refers to us.
By this time, several strands of my straw sandals had already worn through! You can see how perilous the road was.
Later, after we came out of Wulong Village, the management staff came over and criticized the guide, saying it was too dangerous and that Wulong Village was off-limits to visitors. He said, "For the past ten-odd days, not a single group of tourists has gone in." Fortunately, I had thought he was going to say, "For the past ten-odd days, not a single group of tourists who went in has ever come out." Haha. Along the way Xiangzi told us that the bandits here in the past only robbed outsiders and protected the local rich, collecting protection fees. If bandits from another faction came to harm the local rich, then the two bands of bandits would fight to the death. This sounds the same as some organizations with a mafia nature today, just with different names.
When the fun reached its peak, everyone together built a snowman.
By the time we came out of Wulong Village, it was already 2 p.m. I parted ways with Little Mustache, Little Skirt, and Little Red. Because they had to catch a flight, they first went down the mountain with Xiangzi by the Bailong Elevator. I decided to stay on the mountain and continue playing. I told Xiangzi to go ahead too, saying I would follow soon. Actually, I wanted to experience what it was like to climb the mountain alone.
The way back was not easy to walk, because the snow had buried the path and also covered the trail markers, so I could not see the directions clearly at all and could only recognize the way by the impressions from when I came. The branches lying crisscross on the road helped me remember. After walking for a while, I reached a place I could not recall, and I could not help feeling a little afraid, fearing I would mistake the way. Getting lost in the mountains was no small matter. In the end I still made it smoothly out of the mountain path. Before turning onto the main road, there was a small service station shop, so I went in and bought a bowl of hot instant noodles to eat and rest my feet.
The shopkeeper was a local woman nearly 50 years old, and she was very warm when she saw me. So I chatted with her. She said she lived on the mountain and came down only once every half year. Her husband farmed at the foot of the mountain and every so often brought up daily necessities and food. It was only after she finished telling the story of her third son that I got ready to set off. Just as I was about to go out the door, an old man selling straw sandals came in. He dug a 1,000-won Korean banknote out of his wallet and kept chattering away, and I could not understand his local dialect at all. The woman shopkeeper acted as translator. It turned out he was saying that a pair of straw sandals sold for 1,000 won. There were 88 people on the mountain selling straw sandals, more than the buyers, and the old man had sold only one pair today. The woman shopkeeper quietly told me that this old man was a bit simple-minded and eccentric in behavior, and his straw sandals never sold. The woman shopkeeper said a few loud words to the old man in the local dialect, her expression both angry and amused, and the old man left meekly. A few children ran over to chase him and fool around with him. So there were quite a few vivid stories on the mountain after all. "If you don't leave now, it will get dark, and the mountain road is hard to walk when it's dark. If you fall, no one will know where you fell." The woman shopkeeper kindly warned me to be careful.
At six in the afternoon I left the small service station shop and walked back along the main road by which I had come. The snow on the main road was thinner than when I came.
On the way back, I could see this stone-slab road.
After walking for a long time, the road under my feet was still just as long, as if it would never end. I passed several mountain villagers' houses, their roofs covered with thick snow, and no one seemed to be living inside. It was getting darker and darker, and I began to worry whether I could reach the guesthouse before dark, so I hurried forward. I passed several more mountain villagers' houses, and suddenly heard a faint bleating of a sheep. Curiosity made me stop and take a look. Following the sound, I pushed open a door of the house and found that a ewe had just given birth to a lamb, and a mountain villager couple was inside tending to the newborn lamb. The lamb was very beautiful, with lots of wool, but its limbs were weak and it could not stand, and its bleating sounded like crying. With the couple's consent, I stroked this new life added to the mountains, and reluctantly set off again.
The sky was almost completely dark, and the faint afterglow of daylight challenged the darkness closing in. I quickened my pace. After turning a bend, I found several dark figures coming toward me. Instinctively I was startled—could they be robbers? This was a place where no one would answer if you called to heaven or earth. Before setting out, the shopkeeper at the small service station had told me that security in the mountains was very good and that theft and robbery had never happened there. As they came closer, I found that the leader was actually the older man who had helped carry my luggage the day before. He still had his genial smile, which relaxed my nerves. After walking so long, I could actually run into an acquaintance. I happily shook his hand, and he was delighted too. He asked me why I was walking alone, and I said it was very special and that southerners make a fuss over rare snow. The older man told me to get back to the hotel early, saying it would be hard to walk later. Then we said goodbye!
By the time I reached the station, it was completely dark. Xiangzi said he was just about to go look for me and had been worried to death. I felt a little sorry toward him. He even spoke to me as if frightening a child: the mountains are very complicated, there are wild boars, and in winter when they are starving they come out at night and sometimes attack people; if by a stream, there are also giant salamanders, whose cries sound like a child weeping and are very frightening. He only stopped short of saying there was also a mysterious snowman in the mountains, covered in long hair, with footprints bigger than Yao Ming's. Hehe.
At night, a full moon hung in the sky outside the inn, along with a few stars. I stared blankly at this tranquility. I felt like a reclusive master hidden deep in the mountains, with all the fame, gain, gratitude, and resentment of the world gone, as faint as flowing water. The unity of heaven and humanity—that is where the meaning of life lies.
At eight o'clock the next morning, Xiangzi and I went down the mountain along the same route we had taken up. Passing through Yuanjiajie, I saw that a lot of the accumulated snow had begun to melt.
Xiangzi said that the glaciers here used to be flowing waterfalls, and now they had become like this—the weather and temperature were just a bit too low! After walking for a while, we went down the mountain. The downhill mountain road was very slippery, but I had mastered some mountain-climbing experience. Two days earlier it had taken two hours to go up, and when going down I actually spent only 70 minutes. After descending, I once again hiked along Golden Whip Stream, and my legs felt a little weak.
At one in the afternoon, I waved goodbye to the beautiful scenery, put on my backpack, and ended the white journey. But I was not lonely, because Xiangzi saw me off to the train station. In the hard sleeper carriage, I met a family of three. Both the husband and wife were Tujia people from Zhangjiajie and worked as table tennis coaches in Guangzhou. I treated their little boy to dates, and they became especially warm toward me. The older sister repeatedly said she wanted to take me to Zhangjiajie again and that she would be the guide. The husband gave me homemade smoked meat to eat, and the older sister even asked whether I had a girlfriend and wanted to introduce me to someone. This trip felt very good, and I also learned quite a few skills from Xiangzi, especially Xiangzi's "Lingbo Weibu"~~ hehe. Farewell, Zhangjiajie!