Paying a Visit to Taipei’s “Four Beasts”
TEXT | AMI BARNES
PHOTOS | RAY CHANG, VISION
Just as the margins of ancient maps teemed with monsters, so too do the green extremities of Taipei City – although thankfully, all purely toponymic in nature. The densest collection of these critters lies in the jungle-clad hilly terrain southeast of Taipei 101, where four “beasts” – low mountains – are connected by a gentle hiking trail.
Note: This article was published in the 2024 Winter Edition of TAIPEI magazine, a publication by the Taipei City Government.
So named because it takes in the Tiger, Leopard, Lion, and Elephant mountains, collectively referred to as Four Beasts Mountain (pron. Si Shou Shan), the Four Beasts Mountain Trail offers a quick escape into nature, minutes away from some of the world’s most densely populated neighborhoods. It’s accessible 24 hours a day, but those who hit the trail early rather than hitting snooze will be rewarded with a sneak peek at a quintessentially Taiwanese experience: the informal breakfast exercise and social clubs that gather along many suburban hiking trails.
In this article, we first walk along the Hushan (Mount Tiger) Creek Trail, starting at Songshan Cihui Temple, to reach the Four Beasts Pavilion and then Songshan Road.
Hushan Creek Trail
On a warm early winter morning, I found myself leaving MRT Houshanpi Station in the city’s east shortly after 8am. Striking out against the flow of rush-hour traffic toward more central points, I grabbed a fantuan (stuffed sticky rice ball) from a retail outlet and made my way down Zhongpo South Road, over Fude Street, and under the colorful arch of Songshan Cihui Temple along a Fude Street offshoot lane. From here, a parade of red and gold lanterns snakes up the lane, leading towards the start of the walk proper.
The trailhead sits in the shade of Songshan Cihui Temple and is marked by a tigrine triumvirate and a water fountain. Stepping off the lane into the cool, loamy-scented air, the sounds of water cascading down Hushan Creek’s tiered pools bring instant calm.
Within a minute or two, I found myself at a small, arched stone bridge that has become a favorite with photographers thanks to its satisfyingly circular negative space. Just upstream, there’s a flat area where – on April evenings – you might spot the stuttering, fluttering sight of fireflies morse-coding their way through ferns.
The next stretch of the trail takes us to three of the four beast peaks in quick succession.
Heading onwards, a gentle ten minutes of uphill walking will bring you to the Four Beasts Pavilion. Here, I encountered a gaggle of spritely silver-haired folk listening to a prerecorded stretch routine – instructions and erhu music thick with the crackle of age issued forth from a portable speaker as limbs extended in synchronicity. The group’s considered movements combined with the repetitive trilling of Taiwan barbets in the trees above cast a soporific spell, broken only when the stretching ended, morphing into a lung-busting chorus of Ho! Ho! Ho!, which I took as my cue to keep moving.
From the Four Beasts Pavilion, steps climb towards the end of Hushan Creek Trail. Then, where the steps end, continue uphill, following Lane 221 of Fude Street, to a junction marked by a small shelter and a strangler fig with draping aerial roots. A gray-robed, shaven-headed nun was sweeping the exterior of Zhenguang Temple as I bore right here. Follow the lane for another 200~300 meters before taking a left onto Songshan Road and – save for brief forays into the undergrowth to visit the summits of the first three beasts – the trail now follows Songshan Road to its terminus, a little over a kilometer and a half away.
As the air warmed, my wandering thoughts were punctuated by the sounds of others’ morning activities. A fellow walker passed, solemn-faced and lost in a self-improvement lecture coming from her loudspeaker, strains of karaoke, both artful and artless, carried down from a nearby garden area, the keening screech of crested serpent eagles hung in the air, chattering groups of hikers marched by, and looping, mesmeric sounds of drums drifted out of secluded shrines.
Tiger, Leopard, and Lion Peaks
The first of the four beasts’ peaks to cross your path is the Tiger. The turn-off for the peak is marked by another stone tiger and a fingerpost. (A quick note: the trail signage mostly features romanized spellings of Mount Tiger, Leopard, Lion, and Elephant’s Mandarin names, so Hushan, Baoshan, Shishan, and Xiangshan, respectively.) Steps climb to a junction with a shelter, and from here, an avenue of Chinese fan palms leads to a lookout with excellent city views. Gazing west, I caught sight of my destination, Mount Elephant, while to the north, the grand peaks of Yangmingshan National Park sulked among gray clouds. If you’re observant, you may notice there’s another trail leading down from the summit at this location. This is a slightly shorter alternative running up from Fengtian Temple.
Back on Songshan Road, I continued walking until I came across the remnants of the Songshan No. 1 Mine. Before World War II, coal mining was a big industry in the region, but output gradually dwindled before ceasing entirely in the 1980s. These days, the pithead, which is hidden behind Yaochi Temple and guarded by a winged deity, is all that remains. It also just so happens to stand immediately opposite the turnoff for Mount Leopard.
Like its tiger neighbor, Mount Leopard offers city views, but they’re not quite as expansive. Meanwhile, Mount Lion – a further ten minutes up the road – sits in a bamboo- and rhododendron-lined clearing and is the only peak of the four with no views whatsoever.
The final stretch of the trail is the most popular with hikers and those looking to take grand photos of Taipei 101.
Songshan Road tapers to an end just as it arrives at Beixingbao Temple. Steps on the left lead upward signposted towards Mount Nangang’s Jiuwu Peak (the area’s highest peak at 373.9m) and Mount Elephant, but before embarking on the final extended climb of the day, I stepped through the doorway under the watchful eye of imposing door guardians to enjoy the temple’s welcomely cool interior. A woman dozed with her feet up in a side room, something dated and melodramatic gracing the TV before her, and outside, a believer fed the temple’s intricately decorated burner with spirit money.
Mount Elephant
Once I’d caught my breath, I set off again, heading up the steps. After a short distance, the trail forks and you need to take the right-hand path, then continue upwards until the trail crests a rise at a four-way junction. Taking the middle fork, I found myself at the pinnacle of the fourth and final beast within seconds. Mount Elephant is by far the busiest of the four peaks, so you might find yourself queuing to take photos here. Like the other three, there’s a wooden marker bearing the peak’s name, but this final and most popular summit also boasts a heart-shaped frame designed to help you snap whimsical photos of Taipei 101.
A little further along the path, you’ll pass a sheltered observation deck with more cracking views of the city, and just beyond that, the trail cuts around a cluster of sandstone boulders — the Six Boulders. The weatherworn surfaces of these large rocks bear traces of historic, hand-carved graffiti, and standing beside them for pictures is one of the obligatory “shots or it didn’t happen” locations for anyone undertaking the arduous climb up Mount Elephant from the nearby trailhead close to the Pure Land Buddhism center (Jingzong Temple). Speaking of which, the descent from here to this trailhead is wicked steep and one of my favorite parts of a visit to this trail network, because I get to enjoy watching the expressions of upwards-bound hikers regress from exhaustion through irritation and apprehension to eager anticipation as I get closer to the bottom of the trail. If I’m in a mischievous mood I might throw a “nearly there” at those who seem to need the most encouragement, smug in the knowledge that it’s a smooth slide down to the bottom for me.
After the Hike
It took me a little under two hours to greet all the beasts and head back down to street level, by which time I was well overdue for my morning cup of joe. As luck would have it, rich wafts of coffee-infused air directed my feet from the final step to the simply dressed frontage of %ARABICA. The shop is one of a raft of small enterprises that have accrued around the trailhead catering to the hot and thirsty and is often crowded with hikers or soon-to-be-hikers waiting for their caffeine fix. There’s limited seating (a short bench inside, another outside), so I ordered a refreshing iced Americano before heading on my way. For anyone visiting mid-afternoon, the neighboring Thirst Quenching Company might be a better bet – this outlet’s cooling bowls of sweet aiyu jelly and fruit-infused teas are perfect for taking the edge off a long, hot walk. Also try the Taiwan butter bread, which features a cute imprint of an elephant, a reference to the nearby mountain. Other options for sitting down to a cup of coffee or a meal are YUYU Good Food and Sunshine Café, both located just a few steps from Thirst Quenching Company.
% ARABICA Taipei Elephant Mountain
65, Aly. 22, Ln. 150, Sec. 5, Xinyi Rd., Xinyi Dist.
(02) 27587288
facebook.com/arabicataiwan.1
9:00 am-6:30 pm
Thirst Quenching Company
解解渴有限公司
65, Aly. 22, Ln. 150, Sec. 5, Xinyi Rd., Xinyi Dist.
(02) 27583232
facebook.com/mt.elephant
9:00 am-9:00pm
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