Mutianyu as Metaphor

Josh came to town for a couple days. The last time he came to Beijing, he and Caleb opted to go to visit the orphanage instead of going to the Great Wall. Since Josh was going back to the States the next week, he wanted to see the Wall before leaving China.

We hired a driver and ventured out to Mutianyu. At Mutianyu there are 3 options to get up the hill from the parking lot to the wall: ski chair lift, gondola, or walk. We opted to walk because walking is free. After about 15 minutes of uphill hiking we reached the Wall. We were told that our best option would be to go to the left to begin our hike. So we did. We hiked the wall’s ups and downs for about a half mile. All the while passing tourists of many flavors, student groups, and Chinese families. Upon reaching the 12th guard tower we came to the end of the road.

It was not the end of the Wall (the Wall is 4,000 miles long), but it was the end of the restored wall. There was a sign placed on the small fence which blocked tourists from proceeding which read, “Danger: Do not go any further,” in 4 different languages. Josh and I took it as a challenge rather than a command, and we daringly stepped over the fence. The shame of it is this is where the real beauty of the wall begins. At this point you begin to see the Great Wall which was built centuries ago (this particular section was first built around AD 550 and was rebuilt in 1569), not the Great Wall which was restored in the 1950’s.

Leaving behind the European tourists with ugly socks and the Chinese families with octogenarian Nai-nais (who hike the wall’s vertigo inducingly steep steps with the best of them), we entered the “Wild Wall.” We hiked for 8 more crumbling guard towers among the trees and bushes which were naturally reclaiming their position atop the Wall. From the time we passed the danger sign we only saw two more people for the next two hours.

The eighth guard tower past the sign was perched atop the highest peak we could see in every direction. We scaled to the roof of the tower and ate Oreo cookies and apples. It was the best apple I’ve ever eaten.

Josh is working on a “don’t cry for me” list in which he is listing all of the things he has been able to do in his life which should preclude people from crying at his funeral. Hiking the wild section of Mutianyu while talking about Chinese history, waxing poetic about our creative God, and eating oreos and apples is on that list.

On the return trip down the mountain, there is really only one option - we call it the Mutianyu luge. Sure, one could conceivably take the chair lift down. I suppose one could even walk down to the parking lot. But the only real option is the luge, because it is the second funnest 4 minutes anyone can have.

They have built a rounded metal track, about the diameter of a 50 gallon drum sliced in half, which winds down the mountain for about a mile and a half, complete with bermed turns and straightaways where one can build up a ridiculous amount of speed in the modified skateboard on which you sit. The track looks like a small metal luge course. Essentially it is the sort of thing that every twelve year old wishes he could build in his backyard.

There are a few reasons why this luge is so fun. 1) You can go as fast as you want. You control your own speed with a simple hand brake. 2) Something like this would NEVER fly in America. 3) It is extremely dangerous. To imagine someone dying on this course is not a difficult proposition (also, we rode this luge about 3 weeks after the Olympic luger died on a practice run in Vancouver).

There is something about pushing the edge of the envelope which is attractive. It is not everyday that one is allowed to take his life in his own hands in a situation where the closer you get to danger, the more fun it is. It is what leads some people to become bull riders, extreme sports athletes, bomb techs, stunt pilots - and leads other to say, “no, thanks.” Not that I am an adrenaline junkie, it is just that our safety driven society has tried to sterilize everything, which in a lot of ways takes the fun out of it.