TheMommyBlog

Sunday, August 10, 2008 Family

One of the first things Phil and I will do is plan our attack for the Great Wall of China. Well, not an attack ON the wall, just to get to the wall. And maybe kick it a few times.

Phil sent me a link to an article written by a reporter who climbed the two thousand (or one thousand - can’t get a straight answer) steps up to the top. Kevin Manahan is my kind of guy, making it totally unnecessary for me to write my own account. His is already better. And funnier.

Climbing China’s Great Wall: blood, sweat, jeers
by Kevin Manahan / Newhouse News Service
Saturday August 09, 2008, 12:12 AM, Cleveland.com

No one seems to know exactly how long the wall is. The China Tourist Bureau says 3,950 miles. The Encyclopedia Britannica says 4,500 miles. Scholar Arthur Waldron, who has studied and written extensively about the wall, says its length “can’t really be determined.” And no one seems to know how long the Mutianyu climb is. One thousand steps. Two thousand. Maybe more. People who should know are guessing. Zeng, who insists he has made the climb, predicts it will take 45 minutes.

We begin.

The first set of stone staircases rises steeply to the sky, and I’m determined to count every step. But somewhere around 1,127, with my heart jabbing the Under Armour logo on the breast of my T-shirt, I lose count. My head is spinning. My clothes are drenched. I am gasping like Paris Hilton at a couture fashion show. The Great Wall of China has become the Great StairMaster.

President Bill Clinton came to Mutianyu in 1998, and as I was trudging up the mountainside I wondered how that chubby, Big Mac-eating dude made it up these steps. He didn’t. There on the side of a cable car is his name and date of visit. Call it Gondola One.

Why did he come to Mutianyu? Maybe for the breathtaking views. Maybe because it’s less crowded than Badaling and offered less of a security risk. But Zeng had his own theory: “There used to be a KFC here.”

... When I catch my breath, I call my wife and two sons, and, from the top of the world, boast of my accomplishment. I describe my greatest athletic achievement since I won the mile run on Field Day at Lafayette Junior School because Aaron Barber got a cramp.

“We’re so proud of you,” they say.

A pregnant woman walks past me.

“Uh, I’ll call you later,” I say.

See? Put my face on that guy and you’ll have the whole story. I’m beginning to think I need to pack trainers in addition to my sandals so I won’t have to chop my legs off at the ankles to take care of the blisters. But the only pair I have are those “walk fit” kind where the heel sits a bit lower than the toe, creating a more vigorous and painful experience. I wore them for four days in NJ for the Johnson & Johnson meeting and literally fell over from shin splints two blocks from the hotel. How long am I gonna last on the Great Wall??

Something like ten thousand Chinese died building and repairing this wall over the centuries. My guess is that it did the job, but was it overkill?

I mean, Hadrian’s Wall is sixteen to twenty feet tall, was built in about six years, and kept a few raiding parties out. Twenty feet’s enough, don’t you think? We’re talking Scotsmen here. Kilts would ride up, thirst would take over.

Scout: “What were those English bampots thinking, that we’d climb this mingin bit of rubble with our arses to the wind? Dinnae want tae! A dinnieken twas here! Ats tae much bather!”

Chief: “Go on! Just huv a wee shooftie tae see if there’s embdi over, or ahl give yi a Collie-buckie.”

“Gonnay no dae that! Already ah wantae boak, doin’ a dreepie! Am’fair peched just looking at the thing. Is nae a pub down the road a tick? Why don’t we stop in for a wee while and then catch a canter?”

“Stoap acting like a big jessy or ah’ll hit ye wi that hauf brick!”

“We cannae go back, neane are goin’ tae believe us. What’ll we say? ‘Nae, really, s’true! At wis dead easy! A pure skoosh!’”

‘Oh, aye, an then yer arse fell aff. Awa an hae a wash, yi barkit wee minker! Yer blootered!”

“But ma’ fit wis goupin! Ah gie’d it the full bhoona, by the way!”

“Aw did wee diddums dae a big toley in yi keks? Ach, dry yer eyes!’”

But the Chinese, no the Chinese had to make a POINT.