The mountain bested me.

The fact everyone was headed down and not up should have been a sign. But what is ambition if not foolhardy, if not filled with instances of ignoring hints–subtle or otherwise?

My attempts to conquer the mountain were felled by centuries-old defensive engineering. The sorts that wouldn’t be useful today, but in a low-tech world, worked quite well until the builder’s adversaries sorted out an alternative route.

It makes sense, though. That valley, that pass, was picked for obvious reasons. It provides the best protection and the best advantage for defending armies. But attacking hordes would have been foolish to invade here, even without the Wall. Why march into a narrow valley with steep cliffs on each side? Even a millennia ago, these folks would understand as much. As defenses go, though, and as military leaders throughout history have learned, it’s best to cover your ass anyway.

I’d like to think they also had interlopers like me in mind. I mean, at least tangentially, maybe they did. My ancestors hail from an old nearby empire. The Persians, of course. (Cue: WE HAD AN EMPIRE). However, our last two dynasties were weakened, among other things, by several ill-advised military engagements (the Qajars) and a series of poor domestic choices (the Pahlavis). That’s just me being Persian, though. Centering ourselves and looking at life through the lens of nostalgia.

It is necessary to note that the Great Wall of China isn’t simply one long wall. It’s a series of walls built to protect the Chinese interior from invading Mongol hordes. The folks here started building these things around the 7th Century BC. But those haven’t made it to the present day. The most famous parts of the wall were built nearly two thousand years later during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).

This portion, the section that defeated me on one fine sunny Sunday afternoon, was built sometime between those early walls and the start of the Ming Dynasty. Folks here call it Huangyaguan or Huangya Pass. English speakers can call it the Yellow Cliff Pass–the cliffsides have a yellow hue. In the mid-80s, the Chinese government repaired a section of the original wall constructed here. And since then, it has been a tourist destination for locals and waiguo-ren (foreigners) like myself.

I arrived as part of a hiking group arranged by Beijing Hikers. You’ll remember I joined them for a hike back in July through the White River Valley. This was a rescheduled hike for me. The one I was initially signed up for was canceled due to low registrations. Huangyaguan piqued my interest for two reasons: 1) it's the Wall, and 2) the plan was to lunch at a local restaurant afterward.

The synopsis of the hike indicated it would be a steep climb–a warning I registered but ignored. This country boy, descendant of revolutionaries and highlanders (is that redundant?), a cultural casserole, former college athlete, father of two, writer, lover of beer…aint skert-uh-shit. Famous last words.

I should have taken it a bit more seriously, maybe not played 90 minutes of footy for the first time in three and a half years two days before. Or should have avoided the beer festival the previous day. Or maybe not played tennis twice in the preceding week.

That’s the excuse I’ll make.

But here’s the thing: I’m out of shape. Even if I had taken it easy, there’s a good chance I would have been fucked halfway up the mountainside anyway. Because, like the ambitious fool I am, I tried to take this thing like I was in high school or college. You know, back when you could go out partying, put away the better part of a 12-pack of the worst beer imaginable, and still wake up the following day to run three miles in twenty-one minutes.

Yeah, that was OVER twenty years ago. And if anything, mountains, cliffsides, old imperial defenses, they pity the halfwittedly aspirational folks like myself fueled by the nostalgia of empire and memories of bad decisions gone unpunished.

What the hell was I thinking? I’ll be back, though. I’m gonna take my time and conquer that shit.