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A short hike around the bend and we ran into this, the second of the two new bridges built to prepare for the expected flow of tourists. Different angle below, with my nephew Terry standing at attention with the ever-necessary umbrella:
Poor Terry. Whether we were on one of these hikes, or at the zoo, or on a bus, he was pretty much a captive audience and couldn't get away, so I peppered him with a constant stream of stories, observations on life, and nuggets of wisdom as I saw fit to dispense...
This was the first sign that change is on the way...a brand new bridge. After walking for almost a half hour the jungle cleared to reveal the wide river valley where this came into view. Other than this and another bridge you'll see later, the whole area was a construction zone, with heavy equipment standing out incongruously against the virgin jungle mountainside.
Different perspective with closer view of marker below:
But wait! What's this? Yes, as the sign suggests, there WILL BE A REVIVAL of tourism in this area, as new roads and a safe passage is now being constructed so that citizens can safely make their way to the falls. Funding was approved several years ago, and another couple of years will probably be needed to finish everything, but the project is underway to (literally) pave the way forward. After seeing this we could hardly wait to check on progress...
As mentioned in this post from a few days ago, a thriving tourist trade, one that perpetuated a brisk flow of people through the little town year-round, fell by the wayside when they closed the falls to public viewing. Many businesses closed, which slowly resulted in the abandoned houses seen in subsequent posts. But evidence of those bygone days extend beyond the village, along the route to where the falls are located. The picture above features a railing no longer maintained, and below is an abandoned vendor stall where they sold who-knows-what, crumbling and overgrown:
And, very sadly, this is where the ancestors of our friend the monkey might have ended up as a spectacle for curious eyes on the way to the falls:
Afterword to yesterday's post: Our friend the monkey was absolutely right, in that once he climbed down into the foliage we had no chance of seeing him, though we strained our eyes for the slightest glimpse of fur or rustling of leaves. Because of that, on every subsequent hike at this spot Terry and I stopped, remaining totally quiet for several minutes, looking up into the trees while remaining absolutely still (if it weren't for the killer heat and mosquitoes we would have done so for much longer). One day we were rewarded with a deep-throated bark, perhaps signaling annoyance or a warning to others nearby. Those guys are everywhere, though not seen. Would love to set up a blind with a 500mm lens and just wait...
[continued from yesterday's post]
"Crap, they're not going away! Better get back home 'cause it looks like they're going to walk that way. Dang it...no fruit this morning!"
"Gotta hurry. These humans are unpredictable, no telling what they'll do..."
"Still there? OK, trying a different tack...must go to Plan B."
"...will go slow, and act very nonchalant. If the humans know they don't scare me they'll mosey on, and I can come back later for the fruit."
"Yes, getting closer to home and my monks." [as opposed to peeps, which he couldn't say because he's not a people - ed.]
"...almost there, and safe at last! Once I climb down these vines those dummies will never catch up. People! I'll be so glad when they become extinct!!"
I must have taken 25 or so pics of this guy, all bracketed in bursts of three for exposure. During post-capture I began to imagine what was going on in this fellow's mind, and this is what he was saying to himself:
"That fruit's pretty good, so I'll move on but keep a wary eye on these humans. If I ignore them maybe they'll ignore me."
"Huh? Still there? All right, I'll keep going."
"Making progress - fruit looks pretty good over there..."
"Here I am, with a tree in between us. I'll stop here for a moment so that Jim can take a picture of me through those branches. Maybe that'll satisfy him so that he'll finally go away."
After Terry called me back to the spot I immediately went crazy snapping away at full zoom, thankful that my lens's 300mm gave me the reach to get close. Noticing that he was the center of attention, this guy stopped his progress along the wire to check us out, assessing whether we were a threat or could be safely ignored. Surely the loud clacking of the 850's shutter was a strange noise that added tension to our presence.
We learned at the zoo later that this is a Formosan Rock Macaque, native only to the island of Taiwan. At one time their numbers steeply declined due to the pet trade, something I saw first-hand during a visit there in 1987. When this got out of hand they were placed under protection, which recovered their numbers so well that they ran amuck and became a nuisance to farmers trying to grow crops. The locals told us that just one of these guys can do significant damage, as one would climb a fruit tree, pick one and tuck it under his arm to carry away. Seeing more fruit, he would then pick another and attempt to tuck the second one under his arm along with the first one - see where this is going? Yes, the first one would fall away as the arm lifted to make room for the second, and you know what happens...so it would go until the entire tree is stripped bare, with the monkey sauntering off with only the last one picked under his arm.
When we were there, in mid May, the only fruit in season in the area was the bell fruit, pictured at left. And this was the tail end of the season, so most was either picked for market (or by monkeys) or had fallen to rot on the ground. We imagined that our friend here was headed to a favorite tree to get some for himself and perhaps his family.
My nephew, Terry, and I walked on. The goal was to follow the road that my son Andrew and I found, which afforded an awesome view of Chenjean's little village that I wanted to share with the Bigger Cahoona. We never did find it, but while walking along I noticed the building you see across the way. Looks like a government installation of some sort, but that's not why I noticed it. The last time I was here it was nice and straight, but now it looked tilted, listing noticeably to the right...so much so that we wondered if it's going to fall down the mountain with the next big rain! This I had to capture, not knowing what we'll see next time we're over for a visit.
But alas, there was something in the frame that I DIDN'T notice until working on this picture during post-capture here at home in Houston. Terry did notice, however, with his eagle eye for nature, and called me back to the spot after I'd taken this picture and moved on. What was it? Click to expand the image and FOLLOW THE ORANGE ARROW:
Same for this one, a very nice home. I remember as few as seven years ago a large family thrived in this complex, which now sits abandoned.
View from down the road looking up:
...such as this one. Sadly, these are nice homes, abandoned to the neglect of the younger generations, who really have no reason to stay in these remote locations. As little as thirty years ago there was a brisk tourist trade due to a really nice waterfall up the road a piece. However, they closed the falls to visitors...partly because of crumbling infrastructure on the way there that made it unsafe. Once the older folks died off, with no real business to keep them around, their kids and grandkids left for bigger and better things in the city. To give it perspective, when Chenjean was in elementary school there were upwards of 50 kids in her class alone. Now there are barely 50 kids in the entire school.
These are the steps leading up to the place:
A view of the porch...
...and a view from the porch. Who wouldn't want to wake up and step outside to see this every day? Would make a great writer's enclave...
Another place that would have been unremarkable - even unsightly - were it not for the extra flow of water brought on by the rains. The PVC pipe stretched along the top is typical of the homemade drainage systems coming from the houses in the area, many of which are now forlorn and abandoned...
As stated in the first post of this series, it rained quite a bit on the day we arrived...to the tune of 7 1/2 inches in just a few hours. This scene would normally have been nothing more than an algae-covered cement ditch, but when we took this first hike the next morning water was still flowing down the mountain in volume.
The pic above was shot at 1/10th of a second; shutter much faster (1/60th of a second) in the shot below:
On the first morning of our time at this little village my nephew and I took a hike. This was at the crack of dawn so holding the Bigger Cahoona steady enough for clean shots was an issue, but think I managed to capture a few that were acceptable.
If you've followed my blog covering past trips to Taiwan you know that temples are all over the place, and come in all shapes and sizes. This was on the other side of the village, straight down the street from the one posted a couple of days ago. The wall to the right is that of the last house in the village before the road ascends further up the mountain.
Just a few steps from Chenjean's porch I noticed these rays sprouting through the trees from a street lamp and saw some potential. This pic was snapped just to the left of the temple featured in yesterday's post.
We made another trip to Taiwan - got there on Mother's Day, so another couple took us straight from the airport to the Grand Hotel where we celebrated. After recuperating a couple of days from the jet lag in Taipei we took the high-speed train ride to Chiayi and a taxi from there to the little mountain village where Chenjean's dad still lives in the house where she grew up. I really like going there because, with no more than fifty or so residents, it's small and quiet, with lots of photo ops. Someone requested more critter pics, and this place provided plenty of opportunity for that, which will be posted in the near future.
For the first time it was a little scary going up that mountain road to the house. That day it rained seven and a half inches; visibility was next-to-nil and we had to dodge a betel nut tree that blew down across the road. But we got there safely. This pic was snapped after the rain died down a little, but there was still enough to create the steam on the oven thing.
Two closer-in shots below; guess they even have to lock up the temple stuff in a small town like this:
