Pre-occupied Pedestrians Problematic to Their (Own) Health
Well, here’s a sad post for you. It’s amazing how many people—teenagers in particular—have lost their lives over the past year simply by talking or texting while walking. Seems the pre-occupation that accompanies multi-tasking doesn’t go down well in a traffic-heavy environment.
When my son took off in our car, driving the 6 hours to his boarding academy by himself for the very first time—I gave him a good talk about texting while driving and made him promise not to text behind the wheel. He kept that promise, but managed to pull out in front of an SUV anyway. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt (unless you consider a concussion, cracked rib, and not remembering where you were for the last week to be a major injury). But other the decimated car, there were no lasting injuries.
The same can’t be true for a number of people who got too involved with their texting or talking while doing something as simple as walking down the street. You can find a sad list of such accidents just published at injuryboard.com. Teenagers seem most at risk, since they are very much into texting and are also prone to have the MP3 players cranked up. So next time you’re talking to your teen—or other family members—about safety issues, you might want to bring up this little tidbit. A little knowledge can go a long ways, and hopefully will prevent some of these tragic accidents that happen when people forget where they are and what they are doing.
Harrowing Hiking up Mount Huashan
THE STORY BEGINS: Our gondola ride over from the West Peak had not been a problem. In fact, the ride was a lot of fun. But after the gondola ride, my wife Laura and I found ourselves climbing hundreds of icy, steep steps using the flimsiest of guardrails. Despite the fact that we had both slipped a couple times, we stubbornly continued. Now our walk had brought us to this spot.
As I stared up at the near-vertical staircase before us, I wondered how on earth did I ever get in this mess. Not only did I feel in danger, I felt responsible for my wife as well. Steep steps were carved into the rock with chains for support. Cleverly, there were two ladders - one for ‘up’ and one for ‘down’. Despite this, our hearts were racing as we saw where the ladder’s steps went vertical at the top of a 20 meter climb.
The stairs were so imposing we had little choice but to stop and think about it. We could see the climb ahead was the steepest, least-protected section yet. Making things worse, I thought I could see ice on the steps. This wasn’t going to be easy. I was losing my patience.
“This is ridiculous! I can’t believe they expect people to climb this thing! We should have stopped a long time ago!” Laura stared at me with an odd look. I couldn’t figure out if she agreed with me or not. We almost had quit once before. I don’t know why we didn’t.
I suppose what kept us going was the noisy throng of people who passed us while making their descent. This indicated to me that the peak must be close by. If all these people made it, I figured so should we.
I had a war going on inside my brain. It was driving me crazy. The “Courage” side of my brain was engaged in a knockout fight with my “Reason”. So far Courage had the upper hand, but Reason aided by Fear was making a move.
Meanwhile my pessimism had rubbed off on my wife. Laura was having second thoughts. As we stared up at the vertical staircase, Laura’s quizzical look had changed to a frown.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Frank. Maybe we should throw in the towel. Do you want to stop?”
I stared at her quietly. Laura was right. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, especially not with these winter conditions.
The spot where we stood was actually quite beautiful. We could see the vast wilderness of the valley below and three of the other four peaks of Mt Huashan. I was overwhelmed by the splendor. No wonder this place was revered as a religious area.
Unfortunately this place was dangerous in the same way a beautiful woman is dangerous - too risky, but too hard to resist! My inner conflict continued. Part of me could not bear to give up this adventure of a lifetime. The beauty of the mountain was overwhelming!
On the other hand, I wished we had stopped a long time ago. The Staircase we had just completed had been no picnic. For the entire climb the two of us had been clinging to the railing for dear life! However, despite the freezing cold, the blustery wind, and steps that were iced over, like fools we stubbornly kept walking.
I admit it. This was mostly on me. I had not wanted to stop. We had not paid 300 yuan apiece ($80 total), spent 3 hours on a minibus, sat through a half-hour lecture about the mountain, taken a 20-minute cable car ride, and climbed snowy, icy steps for 45 minutes just to get so close to the top! The chances we would ever return to this place were slim to none. This was my chance. It was impossible to quit now that the top was in sight.
Yes, it was cold, icy, and threatening to snow, but this would probably be the only chance we would ever have to climb to the summit of Huashan. This was one of the most famous mountains in China! I uttered a lukewarm response to Laura’s idea of quitting. We talked a little more, but soon the subject was dropped. Laura said she had not really wanted to give up either. ‘Yeah, sure,’ I thought to myself. I was very worried I had made the wrong choice here, especially since I had no idea what was up ahead.
We continued to inch our way up the steps until they suddenly became steeper still, and even closer to the 400-foot drop on either edge. I forced myself not to look down. Finally we made it. Now we could see what was up next.
Instantly we both stopped breathing. We stared up at a steep vertical cliff.
It was the final major obstacle before a hike to the temple. Fear gripped me as never before. The cliff ahead frightened me out of my wits. At this point, my fear escalated to a level I had never previously felt before. My inner debate raged on. This was the third time “Courage” was in great danger of losing.
I was the cat who had climbed the tree and could not get down, only here nobody would or could come to my rescue. It felt like a bad dream; I wished I could just escape, and wake up in my warm bed, but there were no warm beds here, only biting cold winds, ever-accumulating snow, and icy steps. I knew we would have to get out of this on our own. I was overwhelmed by fear-induced nausea. I don’t have a head for heights. I felt rather sick looking at the rickety wooden walkways and the rusty chains hanging over the precipitous drops ahead of us.
I gazed up at the cliff above. I was astonished to see an absurd number of giddy Chinese scaling the treacherous steps with almost reckless abandon, some wearing what can only be described in English as “dress shoes,” specifically the kind with smooth outer soles.
“What is wrong with these people?!” I thought. “Are they insane?! Stupid?! Both?! Why aren’t they afraid?!” Why indeed did the Chinese people seem so unfazed by this treacherous path?
My mind drifted back to rumors that people regularly fell to their death attempting to climb the mountain. After what I have seen so far today, I had no doubt these legends are correct. And I had a sixth sense that told me the worst was yet to come!
Why on earth would I try? Picking your way along a sheer cliff surely isn’t an enjoyable way to spend a holiday, no matter how good the views are at the end. Had I discovered a previously undetected ‘Death Wish’?
There is, off course, a certain type of traveler who enjoys the bravado and back-slapping of dangerous travel. I’m certainly not one of them, although I suppose I am more adventurous than most. But today, I was not here out of bravado. I was here because I really didn’t know any better! I was the accidental mountain climber who got in way over his head.
Danger is a hazy concept. For starters, we never know the exact probability of an unfortunate accident. Our minds try to estimate it based upon past experiences, hearsay, and whatever knowledge we have accumulated. Even once we think we know the chances of tragedy in a certain situation, there is still the question of whether or not to be afraid.
I wished I had a feeling for the frequency of accidents at this part of the climb. But no one around us spoke a word of English. What was the probability of an unfortunate accident? Right now I was more scared than at any other time in my adult life. How much risk is too much?
Was I supposed to be afraid of this? Maybe it isn’t as difficult as it looks. Everyone else I can see is motoring up the cliff. It can be quite difficult to know when to say “no”.
Laura and I talked some more. As we talked, one Chinese person after another walked past us and started to climb the ladder without even a moment’s hesitation. That’s when I decided to continue. I wish I hadn’t. As long as I live, I will never forget the next part of our climb.
I asked Laura if she wanted to go first or have me go first. Laura nodded for me to lead. The first thing we did was climb a metal ladder that had been bolted into a natural chute. In other words, there was a chimney-like crevice in the side of the cliff.
The consequence of a mistake was certain death. On the other hand, how often do you fall off a ladder when you are paying attention? Just make sure the grips are secure and you have a firm footing before taking each new step. This climb was scary, but we made it.
The next part was actually pretty cool. At the top of the chimney , a skimpy trail had been carved into the side of the mountain. This trail wound through improbable niches in the rock face. (see picture at right- people are still in the chimney)
Laura and I moved sideways across the face of the cliff. Things got much easier. We soon discovered there was a natural ledge that had been used to create a trail. Where the ledge was not sufficient, a man-made trail had been carved out of the rock. We were very relieved to discover there was also a metal fence to help as we crossed the cliff to the other side (see lower picture at right - there is a path and chain rail for safety).
The uphill climb in the chimney had been tough, but I started to relax when I found how easy it was to walk on this path. The chain fence added much-appreciated security. Yes, it was still possible to slip, but if you held onto the chain, it was unlikely you would plunge over the edge. Believe me, I held on tight.
In addition I dared not look down. My balance depended on my confidence. The more scared I got, the worse my balance became. I kept my eyes glued to the granite surface of my path. I missed the beauty of valley because I kept my blinders on.
Stupid me, I made a mistake - I looked ahead. That’s when I discovered my safe rock trail was about to end only to be replaced by an absurd wood ramp of some sort. I panicked and stopped in my tracks. Seeing this ramp coming up, for the fourth time that day I had myself convinced to go back down when out of nowhere 6 Chinese college kids caught up to us.
Although they were unfailingly polite, I could see they wanted Laura and I to get it going. Since this place was too narrow for them to pass us, we were holding up the line! Embarrassed, Laura and I started our slow trudge forward.
As we neared the place where the trail changed from rock to wood ramp, I was grateful to find a small recess in the mountain. Laura and I stepped in to allow the Chinese students to pass us by. I could not help but notice their smiles and laughter.
Their fearlessness had begun to aggravate me. Why weren’t they afraid?! They were laughing and joking. No fear. Heck, I was glad to let them go by. Now we could move at our own pace.
The next part of our journey was almost more than I could bear. As we turned the corner, I was sickened to discover a perilous walk across the cliff. There in front of me were nearly two hundred feet of wooden planks jutting out from the side of the cliff. We had arrived at ‘Changkong Zhandao’, a plank path built along the surface of a vertical cliff. (Note: This ramp had an English name: Floating-in-Air Road. But I called it Boardwalk)
Yes, there were chains to hang onto, but there was ice and there was wind and the margin for error was very small. Those planks could not have been more than two feet wide. Exposed to the elements, I wondered just how safe they were.
The only reason we continued was those crazy Chinese college kids. Laura and I watched them cross. It looked like they were dancing… step apart, step together, step apart, step together… they walked sideways across the cliff! And they were laughing!
I swear to God if it wasn’t for those kids, Laura and I would have turned around a long time ago. Left to ourselves, we would have given into our panic, but to see those crazy kids fearlessly move across the cliff made us think we could do it too.
Laura and I gave each other the “what are we getting ourselves into this time?” look. Laura decided to simply watch, but I felt shamed into trying. I grabbed the chain, made sure not to look down, and did my step-together-step across the face of the rock.
I kept telling myself if they can do it, I can do it. Nevertheless, I nearly slipped one time. Normally I never actually picked up my feet, but there were places where the new set of boards didn’t match the set I was standing on. Since I didn’t dare look, when I switched to a new board, each step was an adventure.
As I took a step to the new board, my foot didn’t hit the board right and my heel slipped on the edge of the board. I had only my left leg for support. I gripped tightly to the chain and regained my balance. Laura, bless her heart, didn’t see it. Back at the starting point, she was looking off into the valley.
Despite how careful I had been, I had still stumbled. A panic attack immediately kicked in. I could feel my knees shaking. I was scared to death to take another step. I just stood there and breathed a while. Laura asked me if I was okay. That broke the ice. I decided I hadn’t come nearly as close to dying as I first thought. So I nodded I was OK and started moving again.
Soon I actually managed a laugh of my own. I found a spot on the rock smeared with lipstick. I suppose one of the Chinese girls had pressed her face so close to the wall, she kissed the rock.
It wasn’t easy walking sideways on this vertical cliff. One mistake and I would fall straight to that valley about a mile below. If it was on flat ground, it wouldn’t be that tough. But here the stakes were certain death. That knowledge affected my poise considerably. I thought about the Chinese kids some more. I wondered what would their parents would think if they knew one of those climbers was their kid?
This climb had become incredibly dangerous. What was it about about the Chinese culture that permitted their citizens access to such a dangerous route? I honestly believed that some people died doing this! The only reason we were here was because we didn’t know any better. I was incredulous that something this deadly was open to the public. Sure there were warning signs down below, but nothing had been said that could possibly let us know how much trouble we were getting into.
I thought back to a presentation that had been given on the bus trip. An expert on this area had given a lengthy outline about Mt. Huashan in Chinese. Our bus guide whispered a shorter version in broken English to us. Our fate might have been different if we understood Chinese. It might have kept us from being here!
My hands were starting to hurt from gripping this freezing cold chain. I wished I had the foresight to bring some bicycle gloves for protection. Moving at a snail’s pace, I neared the end of the plank. It had taken me 10 minutes to move a couple hundred feet. It had been the longest ten minutes of my life. As I reached the end, it should have been a triumphant moment for me to make it this far, but I was too nervous to appreciate it. Now I slowly retraced my steps back to the trail. I was totally drained.