The hike to Gongziliao Fort starts behind National Taiwan Ocean University (海大), right behind the men's dorms. The college is accessible by the 101, 103, and 104 buses from Keelung Station. We take the right branch of the circuit route, hoping to catch some sweet archery on the way back. The trail consists of simple, ugly concrete steps, though the trail side is adorned with signs pointing out various flora. I am surprised to find myself sweating far more heavily than our previous hike, the burden of heat-resistant skin having sloughed away in anticipation of fall. There are a wealth of maps and signs to point you in the right direction, and even if you get lost, no one branch goes on for longer than a kilometer. The path to the fort forks left soon after a plain brown gazebo overlooking northern Keelung.
Below the main battlement you're introduced to the remnants of a few barracks. I puzzle over the stones laid down in the center of one ruin; Jaryd suggests they might have been part of the foundation that's since crumbled away. Arched brick windows speaks to an element of refinement in the Japanese construction of the fort, Japan already painfully aware of the pressing need to modernize. A sense of melancholy strikes me. At one time this place must've been privy to the boisterous joking common to soldiers, to rumors spread about people we'll never know. Now the breeze whispers through halls empty save for a lone spider, dangling beneath cracked mortar.
Further up you see munition depots, as well as storage tunnels carved into the side of the mountain. Armed with cellphone flashlights, weak but serviceable, we manage to navigate the tunnels to their respective exits and dead-ends. One branch leads out to a viewpoint, well-covered and providing an unobstructed view down to the harbor. Striking an incongruous note in all this military efficiency, a beautiful lavender hibiscus tree grows near the cave opening, transforming a utilitarian look-out into the grotto of a reclusive Mediterranean sorceress.
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| Entrance to the tunnels. Straight out of the first Diablo. |
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| The viewpoint from the tunnels. |
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| Jaryd, King of the Faeries |
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| An exit to the road |
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| http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scutigera_coleoptrata |
After the caves we take a steep staircase up to the main battlements. Like any elevated fort we have a commanding view of the land around us. Keelung Bay sparkles below, much more appealing out of smell's reach. The east coast stretches out into the distance, and one can see Jinguashi close by, nestled within the mountains. One of the charms of Taiwan is how one can, with the necessary elevation, look from one conquered adventure to the next. It instills a sense not only of accomplishment, but of intimacy.
Swinging away from the view we find a pair of rotating 9mm cannons at the top of the ridge. You can still see the rusted tracks the guns must've swung on, as well as alcoves to store additional shells, facilitating reloading. Nearby, there's a metal-lined chute, what must've been used to discard spent shells. I can't imagine them passing up shells through such a deep, narrow hole, but maybe they utilized some long-handled tool. Steps from the guns lead down to the storage unit the hole connects to.
Near the other gun, there's a lookout bunker. There's a hole in the grass by the second gun, and Jaryd thinks it links the gun with the bunker, a way for the lookout to rapidly communicate necessary adjustments without leaving his post. The sign does talk about pottery speaker equipment installed between the cannons. While I take pictures of the surrounding land, Jaryd steps inside the bunker and after the fucker shoots me down with mind bullets I climb down through the opening to join him. A somber-eyed basset-hound stumping along immediately draws my attention. His Taiwanese owner smiles at me as I pet him. "His name's Buddy. He's just a stupid dog." I laugh awkwardly at this casual display of affection.
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| Look closely and you can see Buddy the basset-hound. |
Meandering down a grassy slope, we find a long, flat area people use for paragliding. Not really sure where people land, as there's not much beyond dock and water below. Looking behind us up at the fort, I appreciate the subtle architecture of the gun mounts; the whole battlement seems to blend in to the mountainside. We see some structures up ahead, and the best we can guess are they served as vehicle garages, since a pair of parallel concrete tracks runs up to one.
Stepping off the ridge, we walk down the path where six 28mm howizters once sat. I imagine how the guns looked, occupying enormous holes now filled with dirty water and lily pads. With the mountainside towards the bay steep and thickly forested, a frontal assault by foot to seize the battery would have been impractical, especially considering there's little beach to land on; it would be left to the ships to knock out this fort. Due to the excellent cover and protection provided by the recessed artillery, any ships in the harbor would've had to score a direct hit shooting blindly up the side of a mountain, and given the hell raining down on them, the window for that success would have been narrow indeed. China inherited this fort from the Japanese after the Russo-Japanese War, renovating it between 1900 and 1908. They too would abandon it, however, so it seems the fort saw little fighting. I know Keelung was bombed by the Americans during WWII, but obviously this fort would've had little application against air. Probably the reason it's so well preserved.
The path back is straightforward and takes little time. I see more wildlife on this hike than any other trail: several butterflies, an enormous grasshopper about the size of a snickers bar, and a dead mole. Right after the mole, while chatting about some weighty matter, Jaryd and I are startled by rustling to the right. An enormous snake darts between us, brown and black and thicker around than my bicep, coiling in an S-pattern. Jaryd hollers something unintelligible and I barely have the presence of mind to hop back, my shrieking the envy of Bieber fans everywhere. After the snake goes slithering down the side of the mountain I start laughing manically. Jaryd stops speaking in tongues and is convulsing with laughter too. As close as the snake came to me, and it did come close, I was too busy dancing around to get a close look at its coloring. We believe it was a Russel's Pit Viper though; these snakes are seen during the day when the weather gets cooler, found in woodlands, and can strike very quickly, often at shadows, though they only grow to be about 4 ft. in length. This guy was easily over five feet, maybe even closer to six, though I must remember that excitement often leads to hyperbole.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daboia
You read the part where it says, "These snakes are responsible for the most deaths worldwide out of all venomous snakes," right? God, I hope it was this snake. It'd be like spitting in Death's eye. While pissing myself. Not exactly heroic, but still admirable.
Jaryd's peering at the brush with every step, and I too feel an anxiety gripping at my chest. His comments about the whole incident are comically pertinent:
"After all the hiking we do, this is the hike where we see the giant snake? Not the eight hour hike from Xizhi to Pingxi, oh no, no snakes there. No, it's the one close to civilization, RIGHT BY A FUCKING COLLEGE, where we see the giant snake."
Luckily, the archery field is nearby, and we get off the trail with a palpable sense of relief. This relief quickly becomes frustration when we see the what's taking place in front of the targets.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Two girls already made nervous by the presence of foreigners start giggling at my outburst. Clearly, rage crosses all borders of language. I am not pleased with the herd of casual golfers driving a crossfire of balls right in front of where I'm supposed to be sending shafts, like the hero I am.
I turn to Jaryd. "This is bullshit." More hushed giggling. GOLFING?! I ask a man what the deal is and he says archery only goes on in the evening. What's wrong with you heathens? Golfing should never supplant archery. EVER. With our dreams of sweet bow hunting shot down we head back to Xizhi, and worn out from the heat of the day, we fall asleep en route. Would've been nice to get some archery practice in; I might start carrying around a bow if anything larger decides to fuck with me.
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