The heat of Zhengzhou followed me to the sacred mountain of Songshan (嵩山) and so did the crowds, since it was the ‘Golden Week’ public holiday of May 1. Wearing my new summer cycling outfit of shorts and trainers I weaved through the busy traffic leaving Zhengzhou and endured a few ‘near misses’ on the highway that rolled up and down the hills that rose to the west of the city. I passed coal mines and roadside stalls selling cherries on the way to Dengfeng (登封). Its hilly streets had the atmosphere of a mountain resort or health spa, which is kind of what it was because people came here either to hike up Songshan or to improve themselves through the powers of Qi Gong at the nearby Shaolin temple.
I found another nice guesthouse at the top of town next to the ancient Songyang Academy (嵩阳书院). The bewildered lady manager soon gave up on trying to fill in the online police registration form and invited me to do it myself. I stepped behind the counter and typed in the details that had become embedded in my daily routine after almost two weeks of checking into hotels.
The weather remained hot and the risk of heatstroke made me give up on my plans to hike up to the summit of Songshan. The crowds of tourists wielding walking poles at the entrance to the mountain trail at the Songyang Academy were another reason to avoid the hike during this busy holiday weekend.
The local sites were also congested, but I managed to get to the Songyang Academy early in the morning before the crowds, to see the 4500-year old cypress trees that marked the entrance gate. Having trees of such ancient lineage seemed quite appropriate for a centre of Confucian teaching where reverence for ancestors was surely on the curriculum.
Modern day Confucian scholars re-enacted rituals and musical recitals in the grounds of the Academy, while outside there were displays of martial arts by students from some of the town’s many sub-Shaolin training centres.
Across town there was also a holiday weekend carnival atmosphere at the Taoist Zhongyue Temple (中岳庙). A fairground had been set up in front of the temple, with more Qi Gong displays, food stalls, gift shops and even a Taoist version of a ghost train ride. The temple itself was relatively peaceful, presumably due to the admission fee (but free for me, being over 60). Some reviews said Zhongyue was a less crowded and more authentic experience than its brash and commercialised Buddhist counterpart at the nearby Shaolin temple.
Dengfeng was home to many ‘Shaolin’ Kung Fu schools. These commercial martial arts academies claimed to have links to the world famous temple up the road and offered residential training programs for kung fu, tai chi, qi gong and kickboxing. Some were open to international students, but the young males I saw practising their jumps, thrusts and cries in the courtyards of Dengfeng were all Chinese.
To finish the day I cycled over the hill to see the ancient observatory at Gaocheng (登封观星台). It had been founded by locally trained Buddhist monk, Yi Xing (一行), who in the eight century AD was an adviser to the Emperor Xuanzang. As an aside to his Buddhist teaching, Yi Xing came up with an epic programme to set up a series of 13 solar observation sites stretching from modern day Siberia down to Vietnam. Gaocheng is the only surviving site of this chain which enabled Yi Xing to better estimate the meridian arc and produce more accurate calendars. I found the current site to be a placid and well preserved example of a late Yuan dynasty stone observatory tower arranged on a north-south axis within a large circle. The only blemish was a large chunk of stone blown out of one side of the tower, which an inscription stated had been caused by Japanese shelling of the monument during their invasion of China in the 1930s.
While Gaocheng was mercifully free of crowds, the same could not be said of Shaolin Temple. I passed by the entrance of Shaolin when I pedalled over the hills towards Luoyang the following day. I was lucky to get through because the entire road had been sealed off for several kilometres on either side by local traffic police, in anticipation of the Golden Week crowds. Access was only allowed by shuttle bus and coach, which disgorged their passengers as a continuous stream of tourists lining up to gain entry. I continued on up the hill for another few kilometres, until I reached a ‘pass’ beyond which I could see the plain stretching to the Yellow River.
It should have been plain sailing all the way to Luoyang after that, but after freewheeling down the switchback road I heard the dreaded twanging sound from the rear wheel. A roadside inspection revealed two more broken spokes, and others were loose. I taped and tightened them up as much as I could and continued on cautiously towards the big city. Travelling slowly, I had plenty of time to think over my options for onward travel, and decided that a more robust bike would be needed for the next stage of my Yellow River trip northward towards Inner Mongolia.
Arriving in Luoyang, I had to cross two tributaries of the Yellow River to reach my hostel within the rebuilt walls of the old city. It might have been called ‘Hanfu City’ because so many people on the street were in costume role playing as mythical figures from China’s past. There was a holiday weekend atmosphere with mothers and daughters in Hanfu riding on motor scooters, students in costume posing for selfies, boys striding the streets as princes and some boys even made up as princesses. After checking in to the hostel located in the busy ‘entertainment precinct’ of bars and cafes I bought myself a crepe-like jianbing (煎饼) from a street stall and just sat to do a bit of people watching.
The next morning I located a Dahon dealership and took my bike down there to see if they could fix the broken spokes. After an eight kilometre ride to the south side of the city I was disappointed to find the shop was closed and undergoing renovation. There were people working inside, and a woman came out when she saw my bike. She explained that she was the owner and her shop would be closed for the long weekend while they gave it a makeover. But when I told her about my broken spokes - and my long term trip along the Yellow River - she told me to bring the bike back later in the morning when her husband - and bike mechanic - would be there and could take a look at it.
My spirits rose, and they were not diminished despite me then making the mistake of visiting a Chinese national monument on a public holiday. The Longmen Grottoes were just down the road, but their statues of Buddha might as well have been on Mars for all the chance I got to get up close to them. Even though it was just after opening time, a steady stream of visitors was already surging through the entrance gates like a crowd going to a football match.
I should have turned back there and then, but having already bought my Over 60s Discount ticket I pushed my way in to join a human gridlock on the riverside road that led past the Grottoes. I then endured a one kilometre shoulder-to-shoulder shuffle along the road, unable to see anything. I did not even try to join the greater crush of bodies in the fenced-off lines to go up the stairs to see the rock images up close. There was no alternative but to just ‘go with the flow’ until we reached a bridge across the river that gave access to the return leg on the opposite bank. An hour later I’d managed to extricate myself from the melee, retrieve my bike from a mass of parked electric scooters and returned to the Dahon shop.
As promised, not only had the bike mechanic shown up, but he’d brought a supply of Dahon-specific replacement spokes for the 20 inch wheels. He set to work on my bike on the pavement outside the shop, and within 40 minutes had returned it to me for a road test. Steady as a rock and a smooth silent ride with no twanging - wonderful! We chatted a bit about my Yellow River trip and our shared enthusiasm for Dahon bikes. They then charged me only a modest fee for the work and the cost of the spokes, and I couldn't thank them enough. Such is the Fellowship of the Dahon!
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| Route map: Zhengzhou to Luoyang via Songshan (click on image to enlarge) |
第7章 洛阳的汉服与断辐
郑州的酷暑和熙熙攘攘的人群，都跟随着我来到了神圣的嵩山——五一黄金周。 我穿着新买的夏季骑行服——短裤和运动鞋，在离开郑州的车流中穿梭，在蜿蜒起伏的公路上，经历了几次“险些撞车”。在前往登封的路上，我经过了煤矿和路边樱桃摊。这里起伏的街道充满了山间度假村或疗养胜地的气息，这大概就是人们来这里的原因吧，因为人们要么来这里徒步攀登嵩山，要么去附近的少林寺练气功，提升自己的修养。 我在城顶古老的嵩阳书院旁找到了另一家不错的宾馆。
一脸茫然的女经理很快就放弃了填写在线警务登记表的尝试，并让我自己去填。我走到柜台后面，输入了这些在入住酒店近两周后已融入我日常生活的细节。天气持续炎热，中暑的风险让我放弃了徒步登顶嵩山的计划。嵩阳书院山路入口处成群结队的游客拄着拐杖，这也是我在这个繁忙的假期周末放弃徒步的另一个原因。
当地景点也人头攒动，但我还是在人群拥挤之前一大早就赶到了嵩阳书院，看到了标志着入口大门的4500年古柏树。对于一个崇敬祖先的儒家教育中心来说，拥有如此古老的古柏树似乎颇为合适。 现代儒家学者在学院内重现仪式和音乐演奏，而学院外则由来自该镇众多少林武术训练中心的学生表演武术。 在城的另一边，道教名胜中岳庙也弥漫着节日周末嘉年华的氛围。庙前设立了一个游乐场，里面有更多的气功表演、美食摊位、礼品店，甚至还有道教版的“鬼火车”。庙宇本身相对宁静，大概是因为门票收费（不过我60多岁了，免费）。
一些评论说，与附近喧闹商业化的佛教少林寺相比，中岳庙人少，体验也更地道。 登封拥有许多“少林”功夫学校。这些商业武术学院声称与路上举世闻名的少林寺有联系，并提供功夫、太极、气功和跆拳道的住宿培训课程。有些学校对国际学生开放，但我在登封的庭院里看到的那些练习跳、推和喊的年轻男子都是中国人。
一天行程的最后，我骑车翻过山丘，去参观了位于高城的古代天文台。它是由当地一位名叫一行的佛教僧人创建的，他在公元8世纪曾担任玄奘皇帝的顾问。
除了佛教教义之外，一行还制定了一个宏大的计划，建立了一系列13个太阳观测站，从现在的西伯利亚一直延伸到越南。高城是这一系列观测站中唯一幸存的，这使得一行能够更好地估算子午线弧，并编制更精确的历法。 我发现现在的观测站是一座保存完好的元代晚期石制天文台，它以南北轴线为轴线，呈一个大圆圈排列。唯一的瑕疵是塔身一侧的一大块石头被炸掉了，碑文上写道，这是20世纪30年代日军侵华期间炮击塔身造成的。
藁城虽然人潮稀少，但少林寺却并非如此。第二天，我骑车翻山越岭前往洛阳时，路过少林寺的入口。我很幸运地通过了，因为为了应对黄金周的人群，当地交警封锁了道路两侧数公里。只有摆渡车和长途汽车可以进入，乘客下车后，络绎不绝的游客排起了长队，等待着进入寺院。我继续上山几公里，到达一个“山口”，透过山口，我可以看到延伸至黄河的平原。
之后，一路到洛阳本该一帆风顺，但在蜿蜒的山路上自由骑行后，我听到后轮传来一阵可怕的“咔哒”声。路边检查发现，又断了两根辐条，其他辐条也松了。我尽可能地用胶带把它们缠紧，然后小心翼翼地继续向大城市驶去。车速很慢，我有足够的时间思考接下来的行程，最终决定还是选择一辆更结实的自行车这是我黄河之旅北上前往内蒙古的下一站所需的一切。
抵达洛阳后，我必须渡过黄河的两条支流才能到达位于重建古城墙内的旅馆。它或许被称为“汉服城”，因为街上许多人都身着汉服，扮演中国古代的神话人物。这里弥漫着假日周末的氛围：穿着汉服的母女骑着摩托车，学生们身着汉服自拍，男孩们扮成王子在街上漫步，有些男孩甚至打扮成公主。在位于酒吧和咖啡馆林立的繁华“娱乐区”的旅馆办理入住手续后，我在街边小摊买了一个类似煎饼的煎饼，坐下来观察了一下周围的人。
第二天早上，我找到了一家大行自行车经销店，骑着我的自行车去那里，看看他们能否修理断掉的辐条。骑了八公里到城南后，我失望地发现那家店关门了，正在装修。店里有人在工作，一位女士看到我的自行车后走了出来。她解释说她是店主，店里会在长周末关门，进行翻新。
但当我告诉她我的辐条断了，以及我打算沿着黄河长途旅行时，她让我早上晚些时候把车开过来，到时候她丈夫——也是一名自行车修理工——会过来检查一下。 我的心情一下子高涨起来，尽管我当时犯了一个错误，在公共假日参观了一座中国国家级纪念碑，但我的兴致丝毫没有减退。龙门石窟就在路的尽头，但我有机会近距离欣赏那里的佛像，感觉就像在火星上一样。虽然刚过开门时间，但已经有络绎不绝的游客涌入入口大门，就像一群人去看足球比赛一样。
我本该当场就折返，但我已经买了60岁以上人士优惠票，于是挤进了通往石窟的河边公路，加入了人流大军的行列。之后，我摩肩接踵地沿着公路走了一公里，却什么也没看到。
我甚至没有尝试加入围栏内更拥挤的人流，爬上台阶近距离观看岩画。我们别无选择，只能“顺其自然”，直到我们到达河上的一座桥，桥上是通往对岸返程的通道。一个小时后，我终于从人群中脱身，从停放的电动滑板车堆里找到我的自行车，然后返回大行店。 正如承诺的那样，自行车修理工不仅来了，还带来了大行专用的20英寸轮毂替换辐条。
他在店外的人行道上开始修理我的自行车，不到40分钟就把车还给我进行路试。车子稳如磐石，骑起来又平顺又安静，一点异响都没有——太棒了！我们聊了聊我的黄河之旅，以及我们对大行自行车的共同热爱。然后，他们只收了我一笔不小的维修费和辐条费，我对他们感激不尽。这就是大行的情谊！
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