The long weekend afforded us a little more time to explore further afield, so Michael T. and I decided to take the show on the road and bike into the beautiful Maolin 茂林 area all the way to the village of Duona 多納-- long a village site of Rukai speakers that still holds a few examples of traditional slate architecture.
I had visited the area about ten years before, and remembered Duona as a sleepy little town that would occasionally attract visitors to a natural hot spring. The hot spring was destroyed in the flooding of typhoon Morakot, so I was curious how Duona had fared.
I first learned of the area through my reading of the Scottish businessman and adventurer, William A. Pickering, who wrote a fanciful and entertaining account of Taiwan through the Victorian lens in his 1898 memoir, Pioneering in Formosa-- a memoir that details Pickering's ramblings through the Taiwan of the late Qing.
Pickering writes extensively in regard to this trip to meet the "Bangtaulangs", or the people of Poponaho. His travels took him through Vidai, Laboa, Taranek, Taldika, Ko Adavan (Duona), and Poponaho villages.
Pickering writes:
"About ten o' clock, when the moon was high, a deputation requested our presence outside the hut, where in the open a large party of men and women had assembled to see me and hear me sing.
It was a wild and romantic scene. The quaint savage settlement with its slate roofs, distinct in the moonlight; the rows of dark expectant faces pressing around for a sight of their strange white-faced kinsman; the confused chatter and movement amongst them; and beyond, the great dark mountains, baring their rugged breasts to the solemn night sky, whilst the roar of the hill-side torrents formed an unceasing accompaniment to the scene. How far away England, and even Chinese civilisation, seemed!" --Pickering; The Pioneering of Fomosa (p. 158)
We headed up the 高132 just where the Highway 27 and Route 185 intersect at the base of the mountains. In this area there is very little in the way of foothills. The Meinong basin pushes snugly against some full-sized mountains.
We lined up with several other riders at the visitor center at the base of the climb, as the Route 132 has become something of a local ride in the area. This is good for the fact that there are restrooms and facilities to fill water bottles, all within easy reach.
As we pushed upward, the first difference I noticed since I last went up the river valley, was the massive ramp that splits right between the opposing hillsides. This new feat of engineering was built at great expense to replace the brittle, crumbly roadway that once hugged the northern bank of the river and would rain chunks of hillside during a rain squall.
Another thing that caught my eye was exactly how touristy the place had become. It wasn't just shops and shanties full of snacks and souvenirs. This was some serious infrastructure.
After a few corners the glare of busy signage and the promise of various amenities melted into the muted greens and greys of the central mountain range still clinging to winter. It was just a marvellous day to be out there on a bike.
Despite the increasingly amazing scenery, the gradients remained pretty tame as far as Taiwan road design goes and we paced a group of riders from Kaohsiung on their way to the top. Along the roadway we slipped along the shadows of overhanging trees and between clouds of butterflies that seem to cling to the pocket of warm air around a passing rider.
The route took us upward into the intricate folds of the river that has lots its way numerous times. It was really easy to forget how short the ride actually is. From the base of the Route 132, it is only about 12km to the top. That is really nothing. It seems as far as the moon when looking out across the layers of mountains in the distance.
The hardest climbs are a couple 10% grades that really don't feel that bad. A couple good ramps to jack the rider up to the ridge before Duona and spill out a scene of unfathomable beauty below.
I knew we were getting close as the tour busses and drivers made the final stretch to Duona a little hairier than I would have liked.
Finally, Duona sat as a lonely patchwork of vibrant color against a dark green background.
I was in absolute shock as we rolled into town. The place was a Disneyland of tourists packed into the tiny streets of old Duona. The air was choked with smoke from numerous barbecue stalls and the smell of grilled fatty pork became too much to resist. This is not a town for the vegan express. Everything in Duona smells like roast flesh...and it was irresistible.
Pickering again recounts:
Their etiquette and hospitality was decidedly curious. I was made to sit down beside the lady, or daughter, of the house, who, with a large wooden spoon, fed me with beans, millet, or broth, after just tasting each spoonful herself. Then with her own fingers she picked out for me the choicest morsels of venison, pork, bear's fat, or sausage from the common dish.--Pickering, The Pioneering of Formosa (p.162).
We meandered around Duona to take a look at some of the older buildings amid the growing sea of corrugated metal and concrete.
After a helping of heated meat and an iced tea, we turned tail and blasted downhill back to the base of the climb. The climbs had some bite, but didn't last long enough to do any damage.
We stopped for one last time for a taste of more heated meat and uncomfortably watch a poor group of Americans become objects for the entertainment of a local tour guide who is himself the object for entertainment. It was a little hard to watch and we ducked out before the guide could turn his gaze to the grumpy old guys in the corner.
All in all the ride to Duona is by no means difficult. It is not easy. It is immensely beautiful and rewarding for the sightseeing if you can duck the occasional load of tourist sprawl.
What it was, was a lovely day on the bike through an amazing area that is rich with history and still very vital with culture.
