Red Capital Ranch

I’d been wanting to go back to the Great Wall since I first went in September. Being one of the only things I heard of before coming to China, I felt a tourist’s obligation to do it right. I mentioned before that Badaling, where I went before, is referred to as the “Disney land” of the Great Wall, for its touristy-make up, and unusually crowded experience. I was lucky to have a great experience there, taking turns that left me and the few others that I came with alone for long stretches of hiking.

Still, I wanted to see a more secluded, more broken-down part of the wall before I left, and this led me here. The Red Capital Ranch is one of the locations of Tibetan-affiliated properties, and the one closest to the Great Wall. Even with email booking in English, you have to be careful in China. I was at the final step when I received an email saying, “Just to confirm, your booking is in Tibet.” After a mild heart attack and a few more clarification emails, I arranged to meet at the Red Capital Residence in Bejing for my free 2 hour van ride to Shambala at the Great Wall (or the Red Capital Ranch.) Waiting at the Red Capital Residence was an interesting experience, seeing pictures of Mao everywhere, and reading brochures about how I was getting the experience as if I was his personal guest for the weekend. It was elegant, extravagant, yet creepy.

The ranch itself is everything I hoped for. It’s incredibly peaceful, with the soft sounds of tweeting birds, rustling trees, and lapping water in the distance. Somehow Kelly and I got the sweetest hutong. The place is so small it uses names instead of numbers for rooms. We stayed in “Mountain”, which, just as it should, is the highest of the hutongs, overlooking the rest with a perfect view of the sunset over the mountains. Every detail of our room is etched in wood, covered with stone, or separated by orange curtains. The bathroom is a stone-walled cave with a raindrop shower head which, unlike home, doesn’t run out of hot water well before you’re ready. This is why people take vacations.

After throwing out stuff down we decided to adventure towards the Great Wall. We had been pointed in the direction towards the path, and that was that. The path apparently led to a winding sandy path up the mountain, which then led to a vertical ascent up a crumbled portion of the Wall. We had followed a small group of British tourist, who looked at the Wall and said, there’s no way that’s the way. It was great to finally feel like I know China better than someone else. I knew without a doubt that I was looking at the path. One great thing about China is the freedom from law suits. Living in China after America is like finally getting away from your parents as a teenager. Suddenly all of the, “Be careful” “It’s not safe.” “Don’t do that” warnings were silent, and you’re left to make your own mistakes and use your own judgment, at your own risk, of course.

So Kelly and I climbed, hand by hand, foot by foot, up the broken stoned staircase to the top. It took us about an hour, but we made it to one of the peaks. It was gorgeous, overlooking the mountains all around and surrounded by trees flowering in tiny white and pink pedals. I sat and read Abraham Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address, where he clearly and repeatedly states that he has no right nor desire to get rid of slavery in America. (This may seem random, but it’s part of a book with Obama’s address and the Gettysburg address, which were my reasoning for the purchase. Also, as I’ve said, books in English are at such a shortage that I find myself reading all sorts of interesting things I never found time for in the states.)

The climb back was the hardest. I’m not going to lie, I felt pretty proud of myself for being prepared in my sneakers and northface. I watched those British girls turn around in their saddle shoes after 20 min., and patted myself on the back as I trudged on. Then, before heading down, we saw a group of other climbers in serious gear. They had the waling sticks, the wind pants, and even ski goggles for the serious sand/wind. Their shoes looked as thick as snowboarding boots, and it was clear they had been designed for just this purpose.

I felt a little shaky as I started my descent, but found a strategy of holding on to the part of the wall that was the steadiest and using that to brace my feet as I avoided wiggly and sand-covered foot holds. Some parts I crawled backwards, holding on to nearby trees. Surprisingly, the hardest part was the beginning, a literal sand-slide of windy pathway with no stone whatsoever to hold on to. Eventually, I managed a half-slide, half-jog down to safety at the bottom.