One of Mei Ling's old friends arranged for a luxury minivan and driver to take us to Chengde, with stops I had selected along the route. We had breakfast at the Xinmin vegetable market, where I spotted a tray of peculiar short white tubes with meat clinging to them. Mei Ling identified them as pig larynxes, which were served to me in a rolled bread. They were absolutely delicious—savory and crunchy—and I went back for a second serving, which I bought for myself. One of the things I cherish most about China is that every visit introduces us to numerous foods we've never tried before. Hongluo Temple, originally established during the Eastern Jin Dynasty in the fourth century, has been rebuilt so many times that the age of each individual structure is uncertain. Situated on the northern outskirts of Beijing, it was our first destination on the journey to Chengde. The main feature of the entrance area was a fountain and pond, fed by runoff from the mountain above. Within the pond were stepping stones leading to a tunnel made of plaster models of red snail shells, symbolizing two female deities who, according to legend, lived at the temple. By day, they took on human forms to worship Buddha with the monks, but at night they transformed into red snails, illuminating the grounds with their glow. The name Hongluo translates to "red snail" in Chinese. True to Chinese style, the temple also functioned as a small theme park where visitors could enjoy various activities for a small fee. One such activity was throwing heavy coins at a bell suspended in a pit, where visitors paid for the coins and were rewarded only with the satisfying clang upon hitting the bell. For another small price, one could ring a larger bell using a battering ram—missing it was nearly impossible.
The staircase winding up the mountain was quite daunting, but we were full of energy. We climbed to what seemed like the top, only to find more stairs leading upwards. We had no idea how far they extended, but having come this far, we felt compelled to continue. I kept climbing until I felt breathless, then pushed myself to do twenty or thirty more steps before resting. Ian kept pace with me, while Mei Ling and Spenser forged ahead. Mei Ling, being the fitness enthusiast in our group, quickly left me behind, and I couldn't figure out Spenser's source of endurance—he appeared as soft as a marshmallow. Eventually, we reached the end of the staircases, which opened to another complex of temple buildings and a snack shop. There was a water fountain to refill our bottles, and I poured a full bottle over my sweaty head. I was surprised by how many visitors had braved the stairs to get to this level. Unbeknownst to me at the time, there was also a coaster on the side of the mountain for easier ascent. Most of the visitors were Buddhist devotees engaged in activities like tying red wish ribbons to the railings and burning incense sticks.
Behind the temple structures, another path wound around the mountain. I had thought we reached the summit, but another staircase led further up. We exchanged glances, and I decided I had reached my limits. After nearly climbing a thousand steps, I wondered if there was anything worthwhile waiting at the end of this new challenge. Just then, a middle-aged man jogged past us, and Mei Ling had a brief conversation with him in Chinese. "He said it's really easy from here," she relayed. What else could we do, but muster our weary legs and continue climbing? I kept a careful count this time: a hundred steps, two hundred. It felt absurd, but I couldn't abandon the climb just one flight from the top. Mei Ling and Spenser had moved ahead again, so if I quit, I would only have to wait for their return. Other visitors passed me on the way down, but I lacked the Chinese skills to ask questions. The burning in my legs was uncomfortable, but I concentrated on my breathing and counting. We finally reached the top after what felt like nearly another thousand steps, totaling around two thousand. I’ve ascended many staircases in tall buildings and mountains before, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never climbed this many. My only regret was not getting the chance to confront the "Really Easy" guy. I told Mei Ling and the boys it was the biggest lie anyone had told me since my mother claimed I was the most handsome boy in the world. At the summit, there were no temple buildings, just a small platform with hazy views of the surrounding countryside. I spotted one noteworthy structure, which I later identified as the Yanqi Lake International Convention & Exhibition Center, located several miles to the northeast.
We had to descend the stairs to the middle level, where we treated the boys to some well-deserved ice cream at the snack shop. I poured so much water over myself that I might as well
One of Mei Ling's longtime friends arranged for a driver with a luxury minivan to take us to Chengde, making stops I had selected along the way. We had time to eat breakfast at the Xinmin vegetable market, where I saw a tray of unusual short white tubes with meat attached to them. Mei Ling identified these as pig larynxes, and they were served to me inside a rolled bread. They were absolutely delicious, savory, and crunchy, and I went back for a second serving which I bought myself. One of the aspects I love most about China is that every visit brings us new foods to try that we haven't experienced before.