At the summit of Panshan, all the other mountains seem small.

“I’m going too!!!”

“All right”

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Jixian County, Panshan]

　　Although we’d agreed to go, we still hadn’t decided on a destination. We’d already explored pretty much everything around Beijing and couldn’t find anything that really caught our interest. So we figured we’d look beyond the city. After scouting around and weighing factors like scenery, distance, and cost, we settled on Jixian County—it’s got both mountains and water, and it’s conveniently close to Beijing. “Alright, this sounds perfect.” While Panshan isn’t far away, visiting just one spot there would feel a bit too one‑dimensional. A quick online search revealed that Jixian County has quite a few worthwhile attractions: Panshan, a favorite of Emperor Qianlong; Limutai, with its picturesque landscapes; the majestic Huangyaguan Great Wall; and even the historic Dule Temple right in the county seat. Each of these places is impressive enough to stand on its own, and better yet, they’re all within easy reach—most are under 30 kilometers apart. With that in mind, we sketched out an itinerary:

[Itinerary]

　　D1: We set off from Beijing early in the morning, checked into a farmhouse inn for the day, and after lunch began our climb up Panshan Mountain. In the evening, we watched the “Tianxia Qing Shan” performance. The actual itinerary ended up varying slightly from what was originally planned, but we still managed to visit nearly all of the spots listed above. Though we were utterly exhausted, over the course of just two days we made the most of our time and explored more than half of Jixian County—its breathtaking scenery wiped away the fatigue of long hours at work, leaving us feeling wonderfully refreshed upon returning. All in all, Jixian is a place well worth a visit: it’s perfect for a couple who want to enjoy some much‑needed personal time, and even better when you bring along friends for an extra dose of lively fun.

[Transportation]

　　 Jixian County is just over 90 kilometers from Beijing and 110 kilometers from Tianjin. From Beijing, take the PanShan–Shang Airport Expressway; as you approach Terminal 3, switch onto the Jingping Expressway. Continue to the end, then follow a short stretch of the Jinji Expressway to reach your destination. The entire route is on expressways, making for very convenient travel. We set off on Friday and missed the weekend rush hour—there were hardly any cars on the road—and arrived in about an hour and a half. The toll was 35 yuan.

[Accommodation]

　　Throughout the Jixian County area, farmhouses are developed around local scenic spots like Panshan and Limutai, so you can choose your accommodation based on your itinerary. Reservations for these farmhouses are extremely popular—when we tried to book Guojia Gou for two nights in early July, every single room in the entire village was already booked through the end of August, and other options weren’t much easier to secure either, so it’s best to book well in advance. Standard farmhouses typically cost around 100–150 yuan per night, including three meals and lodging; air conditioning adds an extra 20 yuan per day. Higher‑end agritourism spots like those in Guojia Gou charge different rates depending on the room type, with three tiers: 178, 228, and 328 yuan. As for my departure, here’s the dividing line: I set off from Beijing early Thursday morning. One thing I have to complain about is how much hassle it is traveling with little Bao—already a handful just carrying his own stuff, but when you throw in all the cosmetics and clothes, even for a two‑day trip, he managed to cram everything into one huge suitcase… And once little Bao’s in the mix, there’s also a sleeping pad, crunchy chicken‑flavored dog food, his favorite little water bowl, and so on. After exiting the Panshan toll booth, it only takes a few minutes to reach the main entrance of Panshan. But our first stop was the farmhouse where we’d be staying that night, located on the mountain’s backside. From the main gate, it’s another twenty‑plus minutes along winding mountain roads—though as someone trained on Highway 1, that’s nothing at all. Once we arrived at the farmhouse, the setting was lovely: apple trees heavy with fruit, hammocks swaying beneath towering trees—all exuding a relaxed, leisurely vibe. Little Bao was thrilled to be at a place like this for the first time, darting around everywhere and simply unable to settle down.

　　The room was nice too—two twin beds, a private bathroom, and Wi‑Fi. In the distance, Xiaobao was playing the poor‑little‑victim card.

　　Looking at the clock, it was already almost noon. Having gotten up early this morning and set off right away, we decided to rest in our room for a bit, grab some lunch, and then head out to tackle the winding mountain road. The guesthouse charged 160 yuan per person, covering all three meals and lodging. As soon as the landlady called everyone to dinner, the three of us—ravenous after our long journey—hurried straight to the table under the trees, eager to dig into the meal.

　　The farmhouse meals are quite hearty, with five dishes and a soup, plus unlimited servings of staple foods—and the flavors are pretty good too. Even someone as picky as me enjoyed every bite, because that’s exactly what I came here for: to soak in this rustic, down-to-earth vibe.
　　After dinner, I patted my belly and then set off to climb Pan Mountain. At the local farmhouses here, you can simply call the scenic area to arrange for an electric cart to pick you up. After waiting just a short while, the driver arrived to take us. The little cart sped along, weaving through the curves as it whisked us up to Pan Mountain. Only after getting off did I realize—huh? This wasn’t the main entrance we’d seen when we first arrived. Upon asking, I learned they’d dropped us off at the back gate of the scenic area.

　　Although the preparations hadn’t been perfect, everything was still under my control—though I couldn’t escape Little Fat’s skeptical question, “Can you really handle this?” and Little Bao’s accusing glare. Quick on my feet, I promptly rerouted the plan: instead of hiking up the main trail and taking the cable car down, we’d take the cable car from the back mountain to the summit and then hike back down. There are two cable cars on Pan Mountain—one, the Yueyue Cable Car, runs from the back entrance to the peak; the other, the YunSong Cable Car, goes from Wansong Temple along the main route to the summit. We entered through this latter station, and our ticket cost 210 yuan per person, which included the Yueyue Cable Car.
　　The only downside was the uncooperative weather today: after noon, a thick layer of fog settled over the mountaintop. Things looked fine up close, but when gazing at the peaks in the distance, everything appeared hazy. It would surely be much more picturesque in bright sunshine.
[Panshan]
　　The first attraction you encounter upon entering through the back gate is Shangfang Temple. Built during the Tang Dynasty, it was visited seven times by the Qianlong Emperor. The original ancient temple was destroyed by Japanese forces during the Anti-Japanese War, and the present structure is a reconstruction. The path leading to Shangfang Temple is particularly intriguing: it winds through a stretch of mountain road, only to reveal the temple suddenly before your eyes. Catching sight of Shangfang Temple out of nowhere leaves visitors with a delightful sense of surprise.

　　Once the bell‑tower, it was reduced to little more than its stone base and the suspended beam that once held the bell after a devastating fire, bearing witness to the passage of time.

　　Shangfang Temple suddenly came into view, built against the mountainside. Its structures follow the contours of the terrain, a stark departure from the traditional temple layout of several successive courtyards, making it truly unique.

　　We came along this stone staircase.

　　The God of Wealth Stone opposite Shangfang Temple looks, from a distance, as if the deity is watching you.

　　Greenery is everywhere; stepping out of the city and seeing such a scene instantly lifts my spirits.
　　Leaving Shangfang Temple, we hopped on the electric shuttle for another five minutes and arrived at the Gua Yue Cable Car. It was just after one in the afternoon—the hottest part of the day—and both of us were already drenched in sweat, our clothes clinging to our skin.
 

　　Xiaobao was riding a cable car for the first time and felt a bit nervous, clinging tightly to his sister—would that he could always be this well-behaved.

　　At the bottom of the Guayue Cable Car lies a rest platform atop Pan Mountain. From there, the trail climbs further to Pan Mountain’s highest peaks—the Guayue Peak and the Zilai Peak. First, you’ll pass the Yunzhao Temple in the distance; a narrow path within the temple leads straight to the summit.

　　The waterfall atop the mountain—“yun gen” probably means “the place where the clouds rise.”

　　Yunzhao Temple is currently undergoing restoration, but this does not affect visits to the temple.

　　Climbing the mountain along the narrow path behind Yunzhao Temple, you can already make out the stupa on Guayue Peak across the way. The trail splits into a Y‑shaped fork; first take one of the branches toward Zailai Peak.

　　When you see this, it means you’ve reached the highest point of Panshan. We’re both so out of shape that by the time we made it up here, we were already gasping for breath. Little Bao, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed—he’d been snuggled in my arms the whole way. The trail is incredibly narrow; there’s no way a palanquin could have been carried up. I’ve always wondered how Emperor Qianlong managed to get up here back then.

　　After taking a short rest, I descended to the middle platform, took another trail, and climbed up to Guayue Peak, where I looked back at Zilai Peak.

　　The biggest problem with having a girlfriend who can’t take photos is that I never see any pictures of myself whenever we go out—this is the only one from this trip.

　　Little Fatty, show your face too.

　　Noon really isn’t the best time for hiking—both princesses were too tired in the sweltering heat. It was also our fault for not planning ahead; if we’d started early in the morning, it would’ve been much more comfortable.

　　After that, we headed straight downhill, opting not to take the cable car because many of the scenic spots and breathtaking views were along the way. In fact, Pan Mountain isn’t very high—the highest point is 864.4 meters, just over 300 meters higher than Xiangshan—but the descent is quite long. With two extra people in tow, we didn’t start our hike until almost 2 p.m. and didn’t reach the main gate until 6:30.
　　It’s still jumping around at this point.

　　At first, the path is all made of stone steps, making for an easy walk.

　　Sometimes there’s also a stretch of dirt road.

　　Princess Bao was born with relatively short legs, making it rather inconvenient for her to step down stairs. More importantly, she’s just too lazy—those three photos below are just a small glimpse of the scene.
 
　　“Older brother”
　　“What’s wrong?”

　　“I’m tired—there are so many, so many steps!”
　　“Just hang in there.”

　　“No, come hold me.”
　　“......”

　　Both of us spend our days working in an office, and after work we usually just take little walks with our young child, leaving us with hardly any chance to get some exercise. It wasn’t until we came to Panshan this time that we realized just how out of shape our bodies had become. As we climbed the mountain, we took in the beautiful scenery along the way; though we were drenched in sweat, our whole body felt much lighter. Breathing in the fresh air, we felt completely relaxed—inside and out.

　　In the distance, up there, a small, pointed peak is Zilai Peak—the one we just climbed. Looking at it now, it’s clear we’ve already come a long way!

　　A patch of rocks I stumbled upon along the way was quite intriguing—perfect for climbing up when no one’s around to ponder life.

　　A patch of rocks I stumbled upon along the way was quite intriguing—perfect for climbing up when no one’s around to ponder life.

It’s already 4 p.m. by the time I got here, and the cable car has already stopped running.

　　About two kilometers of the route were unpaved dirt paths, and this stretch offered the most beautiful scenery—on the right, you could catch a distant view of the graceful, winding mountain range. Still, I was exhausted: a camera hung around my neck, a backpack weighed down my back, I was leading Little Fat with my left hand, and cradling Little Bao in my right, while sweat dripped from me like rain.

　　When you reach this stretch of rock as long as your rear end, it means the dirt road is over and a scenic spot is just around the corner.

　　First, you’ll see Wansong Temple perched halfway up the mountain—it’s also the starting point of the cable car. A ride on the cable brings you straight here. The red and yellow tiles are reflected against the lush, verdant mountainside, evoking a serene, Zen‑like atmosphere.

 
　　Emperor Qianlong personally visited Wansong Temple on several occasions, and his calligraphic masterpieces can be found throughout the site.

　　A short two-step descent from Wansong Temple leads to the Stele Forest, which nestles in a mountain hollow, its canopy of swaying trees creating a particularly picturesque scene.

　　The large stupa at the center stands as the chief among the stupas, surrounded as if by a host of stars.

　　By the time we’d reached this spot, there wasn’t a soul around us. The three of us walked in silence, and the restlessness that had been coursing through us just moments before gradually faded, leaving our hearts utterly at peace.