After 9 months of chewing non-stop on the thick air of Shanghai, and with the summer heat on its way, escaping the high-rises and haze seemed like an investment in sanity. I wanted to go somewhere away from rush hour crowds, and snarled-up honking traffic.

I remembered travelling to Wudang Mountain 3 years ago, on the invitation of a friend. Once the most revered mountain in China, and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, I was so impressed by the mountain that I promised myself a second visit. Wudang is also one of the most famous centres of traditional martial arts in China. With a week between finishing my old job, and starting a new one, I had just enough time for a flying visit.

Natural Beauty

When I first visited Wudang Mountain in the summer of 2006, I had high expectations. I had seen a documentary on the Discovery Channel which made the mountain seem incredibly mystical. I also believed, erroneously, that the final scene in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon was filmed there. Mystical stuff aside, the stunning scenery immediately won me over.

In the agricultural expanses of northern Henan that I’m used to, nature seems to have been subdued by human effort, but the mountains of Wudang hum with vitality. After arriving, the first thing I did was take my camera out and go for a walk. The hills and valleys are covered with old-growth forest, and vegetation of different shades and shapes. The air carries a sweet natural aroma. One third of the medicinal plants recorded in the encyclopaedic Compendium of Materia Medica, written by Li Shizhen in the Ming Dynasty, can be found on Wudang Mountain.

During spring and summer, there is a constant background noise of birdsong, and the buzzing of insects. Anywhere you stop and focus your attention, you see an impressive abundance of life. I put my hand on a rock to steady myself, and grasshoppers scattered. A beetle with a black-purple shell case ambled across the rock oblivious. At the top of one of the hills, I stopped to relax and took off my shoes and socks.

After sitting down, I was treated to an Attenborough-esque vignette of a juicy looking grub with a fat white body making his way across a patch of moss, only to be discovered by a scouting ant. Within a few minutes a miniature horror story unfurled, as the grub contorted beneath a growing mob of biting ants, each one maybe a hundredth its size. Next a low buzzing caught my attention, and I was horrified to see a hornet the size of my thumb hovering a few feet from me, its fat body painted a handsome yellow black and red. It was the first time the sight of a single insect has filled this Zoology graduate with the urge to run away.

A Brief History

The Palace of Supreme Harmony

In the 7th Century AD Tang Emperor Taizong (title), aka Li Shimin (name), ordered a local official named Yaojian, in what is now Shiyan, Northern Hubei, to pray for rain to alleviate a drought that was affecting the region. When the requested rains came, apparently courtesy of five dragons, he gratefully ordered the construction of the Taoist Five Dragon Hall in Wudang. This became an act of piety that would be emulated by later emperors during the Tang, Ming, and Qing Dynasties.

Wudangs’ history as a refuge from the tribulations of city life began during the Eastern Han Dynasty (AD25 – 220). Towards the end of this period, a number of individuals who had served in the Imperial Palace retired to the seclusion of Wudang Mountain, which was by now a centre of Taoist meditation and study. The mountain became known as a retreat for ‘men of letters’ seeking to cultivate themselves. The Ming Dynasty witnessed the peak of Imperial Taoist largesse when the Emperor Zhuli initiated a huge project involving construction of nine palaces, eight temples and other Taoist buildings at 33 different locations. The construction used a labour force of over 200,000, and took 13 years to complete.

The monasteries and old buildings are unique examples of ancient Chinese religious architecture, built to harmonize with the landscape. I was astounded by the Nanyan (South Cliff) Temple, which is hewn into the side of the mountain, melding human architecture with the mountain itself. Here you can find the stone Dragons Head Incense Offering platform, where pilgrims used to test themselves by venturing out onto the precarious Dragon Head to offer incense, inches from a sheer drop into the gorge below. Apparently, offering incense here was banned by Emperor Kangxi of the Qing Dynasty, due to the high mortality rate.

Purple Cloud Hall

Taoist monks, and a martial arts performance, can be seen at the Purple Cloud Temple, and I believe it is possible to study martial arts and meditation in this ancient setting if you so wish, although I don’t know how much this would cost. Built in accordance with Feng Shui principles, with a mountain behind, and water in front, it boasts one of the largest and best preserved Taoist halls of worship, and consists of several sections. The Grand Hall of the Purple Cloud Temple is one of the only surviving original wooden buildings on Wudang, and uses traditional wooden cross-beam construction.

The Golden Palace

The Palace of Supreme Harmony, the highest feature of the Wudang Mountain complex at 1613 metres above sea-level, is part of a series of palaces and temple buildings which follow the contours of the mountain ridge. The jewel in the crown is the Golden Palace, cast entirely in copper, except the base, which is stone. The roof is gilded with gold, and it is said that when lightning strikes it sparks rush down the metal from a fireball sat atop the roof, leaving the structure completely unscathed. There is also a 10 ton life-size statue of Zhenwu, a one-time Imperial Prince, who turned his back on the throne in order to attain immortality through self-cultivation on this holy Taoist mountain. He achieved ‘immortality’ after 42 years, and was deified and worshipped by subsequent Emperors.

Be warned that hiking up to the Golden Peak requires stamina, and plenty of water, especially in the summer. Cucumbers can be bought from locals on the way up or down, and provide a refreshing snack for those who are counting the calories, or whose Snickers bars have melted. There is the option of walking to the peak from the Purple Cloud Temple (2-3 hours), or you can take a minivan to the other side of the mountain and take a cable car up there (45 RMB).

There is so much to see on Wudang Mountain, and my two brief trips there weren’t enough to take everything in. If your time is limited, decide in advance what you want to see. I have only scratched the surface of what is on offer, listing some of the more spectacular sites. A more comprehensive guide and some nice photos are available here.

Entrance to the complex costs 180 RMB, but there is accommodation available on the mountain, if you want to use your ticket over a number of days, as well as free busses that can ferry you from one site of interest to another. Local authorities here have so far not succumbed to the trend in parts of China to re-build and re-vamp ancient buildings.

Martial Arts and Training

Aside from the spectacular scenery and architecture on Wudang Mountain, there is also, of course, Wudang Kungfu. The creator of internal martial arts in popular legend is Zhang Sanfeng, a Taoist thought to have lived in the 13th Century, who was inspired to create his system of martial arts after observing a fight between a snake and a magpie. If the spiritual home of external martial arts is Shaolin, Wudang is surely the home of internal martial arts, and a fierce rivalry between the two ‘mountains’ is a common theme in the old ‘Wuxia’, or ‘martial arts fiction’. Taoist vs. Buddhist was sometimes a sub-text in the ‘goody’ vs ‘baddy’ narrative.

In accordance with the rising popularity of Chinese martial arts with non-Chinese, martial arts schools in Wudang town have proliferated, although on nothing like the scale of Dengfeng, near Shaolin. I met a young South African at Wudang, who had just arrived after a short stay at a Kungfu school in Dengfeng. He had been roughly treated by his teenage instructor, and then, after inhaling the fumes from plastic waste being burnt behind his dormitory, started coughing blood, broke out in skin rashes, and suffered from acute chest pain. He left, and decided to try Wudang instead. Certainly the training at Wudang is less militaristic, with an easier schedule, and more emphasis on Chi Gong, relaxation, and a harmonious ambience.

Master Chen Shixing training a student

The China Wudang Kungfu Academy is next to the Yuanhe Temple, which used to function as a punishment facility for Taoists who transgressed, and was the first temple along the Gushendao, the ancient (disused) road to Wudang Mountain. Fees are 6000 RMB for a month, including tuition, bed and board. If you stay for longer, the price per month comes down a little, and short term stays are 300 RMB per day. The accommodation is simple, clean and comfortable, and the food was very tasty – much better than I have come to expect in martial arts schools. The location is ideal. The academy is at the foot of a mountain, not far from the gate to the mountain complex, and a 2 RMB motor taxi ride from Wudang town (or a 30 minute walk).

The training facilities are scenic and tranquil, and we did most of our training in the courtyard of the Yuanhe Temple. I spent my short time there learning Taoist Bone-Invigorating Chi Gong, and also Wudang 8 Silk Brocade Chi Gong. The students were divided into short-term students – about 18-20 adults at the time of my stay, hailing from Shanghai, Hong Kong and South Africa – and about 30 long-term boarders who were mostly younger Chinese, along with a German and a Brit.

Master Chen Shixing, the head instructor, is a pleasant and down-to-earth young man, and a member of the Sanfeng Sect of Wudang Mountain Taoism, which is the standard bearer for Wudang Mountain Taoism. In 2007 he featured in a CCTV1 (China Central Television Station 1) documentary on ‘Qing Gong’, or body-lightening Chi Gong.

I asked him what the benefits are of Wudang arts to those who come to learn, and he told me, (I paraphrase): “Wudang martial arts can help with self-cultivation. There are also health and healing benefits to be gained from practice, as well as self-defense. Practice can help you to become more balanced and harmonious in your mind and spirit.”

The mainstays of the schools teaching are: Chi Gong, Tai Chi Quan, Bagua and Xingyi Quan. Other training options can be seen on the website. In addition to training here at the school, Master Chen offers to take students to some Taoist Temples that are not on the tourist circuit, to show people more of Wudang Taoism, and how it works today.

Getting there

I travelled to Wudang from Shanghai, on a slow train which limped into the train station in Shiyan, Hubei Province, 22 hours after leaving Shanghai South Railway Station. This masochism is not necessary, as there are flights to Xiangfan airport from Shanghai and Beijing. (You can read more about my train journey on my blog.)

It is then another 2 -3 hours to Wudang by train or bus. There are regular buses from Xiangfan airport to Xiangfan train station, and trains leave for Wudang, or nearby Shiyan, throughout the day until 10.20pm. 500 metres Northwest of the train station, buses can also be caught to Wudang at the long distance bus station.

I would like to thank Master Chen and Katherine for a warm welcome, and particularly Master Chen for his kind and patient tuition.

This is part of a series about Kungfu destinations in China. You can read about the other places Jalal has visited at our Kungfu Holidays and Destinations Page.

More by this author:

• A Tai Chi Retreat in Chen Village - May 10th, 2009

About the Author:  Jalal left England for China in 2005 to scratch his Tai Chi itch. Since then he has lived in Henan Provinces' Chenjiagou and Jiaozuo; and more recently Shanghai. He is still scratching furiously, as the more you scratch the itchier it gets. Previous haunts include Counties Limerick and Clare, Rep. of Ireland; Aberystwyth, Wales; and Sussex, England.