Jinshanling Great Wall captured my imagination in 2019, during a solo backpacking trip. This section, less crowded than Badaling, offers raw, unrestored beauty stretching 10 kilometers through rugged hills. I took a shuttle from Beijing, arriving at dawn when fog shrouded the watchtowers like ancient sentinels. Starting the hike, the uneven steps challenged me, but the solitude was rewarding—no tour buses, just wind and birds.
The wall here dates to the Ming Dynasty, with 67 towers varying in design. I paused at General Tower, its arched gateway framing distant peaks, and climbed inside to touch arrow slits used by archers. The views were epic—undulating wall snaking over green valleys, autumn colors painting the landscape. I met a photographer from France, and we shared tips over energy bars, capturing the golden hour light.
Midway, the wall's steep inclines tested my endurance; at one point, I scrambled on all fours, heart pounding. Reaching the summit of a tower, I rested, munching on peanuts, feeling like a conqueror. Wildlife appeared—a fox darting across, eagles circling overhead. Descending to Simatai, connected by cable car, I explored restored parts with cable railings for safety.
Lunch was simple: vendor-sold corn on the cob and tea eggs, eaten picnic-style. Afternoons brought exploration of nearby villages, where farmers sold honey and walnuts. I stayed in a homestay, joining the family for dumplings filled with wild herbs—foraged that day.
Night hiking was magical; under stars, the wall glowed faintly, stories of patrols echoing in my mind. I attended a bonfire gathering with other hikers, sharing tales around flames.
Jinshanling reminded me of perseverance—the wall's endurance mirroring my own. It's for adventurers seeking authenticity.