Tuesday, January 5, 2016

New Year-the New talk!

We have been raised on the dose of the ‘New and improved’ advertisements (Seinfeld’s rant) and the ‘New is better ‘philosophy (Barney’s mantra, HIMYM). An old men vs. women joke, also informs us that women are more enamored by the ‘New’. The joke goes like this-men and women mean different things when they say they have nothing to wear- men meaning nothing clean to wear and women implying that they have nothing ‘New’ to wear.
Now that I have quoted all the scientific research in the field, we can try to talk about some basic concepts and definitions. New is all about breaking the monotony of the old routine, sometimes it is a tangible/physical change like using a new toothbrush in the morning. The new one is different from the old, the bristles are firm and shapely, and the design or handling is improved. It doesn’t taste of toothpaste yet, it feels alien to the tongue, its feel is not yet familiar, it is new.
We might not always experience that in your mouth newness when we grudgingly wake up and dress up to go to work/school each day but since each day follows its own trajectory unlike a time loop (think ‘Edge of tomorrow’), each day is a New day. It comes with newer flavors, opportunities, challenges (or does it really?)
I can still buy the idea of a ‘New’ day each day but I have a bigger bone to pick with the idea of the ‘New Year’. It is a completely invented entity, one we have to go to great lengths to give legitimacy (lunar calendar, solar calendar, some calculation of time). The whole pageantry, the parties and the hoopla around the plain old ritual of the clock striking 12:00am, it is all an exaggerated attempt to fake ‘Newness’. Nothing really changes or turns new overnight, but there you have it folks- Happy New year 2016!

For all my trivialization of the annual ritual, I am a co-conspirator in the whole New Year charade. I may not be the elite 12 a.m. brigade but in the hallowed company of the elite I try to blend in. Sometimes I go a step further, gather the troops (a reluctant hiker husband) and undertake an ambitious hike to mark the special occasion. We planned to do the 15.5 km Plover cove country trail to ring in the New Year. At the end of the day I had a surplus, a personal best of 26 km of ground covered (the walk along the main dam and the vehicular road to the bus terminus and all the km in between)
We managed to get out of the apartment by 8:15am, the plan was to get breakfast on the go and have a buffer of 1.5 hrs to reach the starting point of the hike. Two things happened; our quick vegetarian breakfast option-Subway sandwich was not open in the morning leaving us to grab some pathetic veggie-morsels at Starbucks and then we found ourselves waiting for the mini bus for almost an hour (courtesy high turnout of New Year hikers and picnic families at the nearby waterfall)
There was also the thing when a mini bus (16 seats) had just a single vacant seat left and so we waited for the next one to come along. When the next one showed up (one with no bus number-probably a stop gap arrangement to clear the rush), we tried to double check with the driver if this one would stop at the Bride’s pool (trail's start point), the driver didn’t speak English and some co-passengers tried to communicate on our behalf. After a brief back n forth in Cantonese we were told that this wasn’t the right bus and we should take another minibus (the one which must have made 10 pickups since we waited for this one). Disappointed and a little cross we disembarked from the bus, only to be hailed back by our helpful interpreter family; there was much excitement and jubilation in Cantonese and I profusely thanked everyone in English, the Mister managed a meek Cantonese thank you (the back to the gallows version!)

The reason why I told this elaborate story is because we were in a similar predicament in another short time span. We climbed the first ascent to Ma Tau Fung (295m above the lowlands) with no soul in sight and reached the trigonometric station at the top. There was a big warning sign, which minced no words to say that the hike was challenging and retrace your steps if unprepared-no turning back beyond this point.
We were low in morale given a lame breakfast, long wait at the bus stop and found the first leg of the hike not very endearing under the sun so we took the warning to heart.
We surveyed our equipment-no hiking sticks, our supplies-energy bars, 1 bottles of water another bottle of ion water each, a bag of apples and some oranges. We were both concerned about the time in hand to complete the hike, it was 11:45 am (nearly mid-day), and the estimated time for the remaining hike was 6.5-7 hours, roughly in the ballpark of the less reliable winter daylight. I had packed the small pocket torch but we both agreed that we could not negotiate the treacherous country trail in the dark. I guess there was another factor in play, we had not met another person on the trail so far. It seemed all the hikers had made an earlier headway, we could hear some distant laughs but they could very well be the jungle fairies, who you should  not trust!
We put down our bags, sat down on the hill slope gobbled up some oranges and mutually agreed that the wise thing to do was to turn back and attempt the hike again with a better plan of rations and time. With a final resigned air of defeat we began to make our way back, our plan was to go back to city and watch Star wars (not sure which would earn us more loser points- quitting the trail midway or the fact that we had not yet watched the movie..)
When we attempted the first section of the MacLehose trail the year before (blissfully unmarried at that point), we were quitters. One year later after a couple of legitimate hikes under our belt, we had gathered the confidence to attempt a real country hike but we were still susceptible to the cold feet.

We were making our way back when we ran into a female with whom we had established an acquaintance a while back. I don’t have any memory of seeing her in the long bus queue but she had witnessed our episode at the minibus and apparently recognized us the next time we ran into each other (guess it is not much of a task to recognize two confused Indians in a hiking trail). On our first encounter we were taking pictures at the start of the trail and she was headed in the opposite direction towards the waterfall, we had exchanged some pleasantries and then each went their separate way.
Our second exchange with the women went like this- I told her that we were quitting the hike and she said she was attempting the hike solo. I wished her well and started to climb down the hill. But the Mister had a sudden change of heart at this point, for reasons unknown to me (wink-wink). It was a split second decision and we were back on the hike.

This hike was no doubt challenging, the length being a factor but primarily it is a basic country trail with scant niceties like paved paths or gentle steps. You had to constantly adapt yourself to the terrain, sometimes you are on all fours taking measured steps; next you are doing a steady run down the hill and occasionally gripping or holding small shrubs and brushes to break the momentum. The Luk Wu Tung slope, that local hikers call 'Falling Dog' is quite a challenge with loose rock on a steep slope. The stones kept changing colors, first they were a shade of purple like the shirt I was wearing, after a while the stones were reddish in color, but all in all they were just as tricky! A long stretch of the hike was along a ridge line overlooking the reservoir and there were occasional sign of warning for the steep cliffs. Some sections of the trail were well shaded, the roots of the trees made for an easy staircase to climb uphill but the evil leaves tried to get you on the descent. Some part of the trail also has stone steps nailed to the ground though some felt a little wobbly and you had to carefully watch your step. I was just happy that we were climbing down the stairs and not making our way up like some hapless souls.
The occasional distance posts were not much harbingers of hope, you always fell short of your expectation in terms of the distance covered. A heartfelt curse naturally escapes your lips when after nearly 2 hrs of non-stop walking; the post reads 11km remaining..

All long the hike I was torn between the feeling of achievement and the vanity of it all. It felt like a cruel joke to climb up the hills, then descent to the foot of the hill only to repeat the routine again. You overtook people on your way and tried to shorten your breaks to maintain your lead, a little competition does no one any harm!
Initially we didn’t come across anyone for a very long stretch, it was just us and the lady hiker. Slowly as we covered ground we came across people of all fitness level, walking along in different groups-friends, couples, families; however our North Star maintained a steady lead all along. She was the lone warrior negotiating the treacherous slopes and steep climbs with a stick in hand and taking pictures of all distance grid posts as she conquered them one by one. At the end of the trail we spotted her once again, briskly covering the flat expanse of the dam.

What a joyous reward it was to sit on the concrete walls and take in the sight of the lake on one hand
and the sea on the other side of the wall. The fresh sea winds that hit you have just the right invigorating bite. The reservoir we had circling was quite an engineering feat and a bold undertaking, it was the world’s first attempt to construct a lake from an arm of the ocean. Its main dam was one of the largest in the world at the time of its construction, disconnecting Plover Cove from the sea.

Tasting sweet victory I reflected on the perennial Shakespearean question-to hike or not to hike. My thoughtful response would be, suit your vanity-hiking is a healthy one at that. Different people find their mojo in different activities; hiking is just one of the drugs in the market. Passions change with time but this one has stayed a dear one for me, its like the childhood rhyme:“Make new friend, but keep the old..The New ones are silver, the old ones are gold!!!!”
PS: This is a long and not at all helpful post about hiking Plover cove reservoir.