Photo by Christian O'Brien

"The world is small," said Confucius. When he made that comment he was standing 1,545 meters above sea level on the top of Taishan Mountain (Mount Tai). Standing on the same spot, one wonders if the great sage had a premonition about globalization, or he just marveled at the bird's eye view.

Climbing up you will lose count of the steps after 30 minutes. In a trance you need to keep telling yourself you are following in the footsteps of 72 emperors, Confucius and even Chairman Mao himself. Suddenly the phrase "one step at a time" will take on a whole new meaning.

China's most sacred mountain has many stories to tell. Jutting out of the flat plains between the cities of Tai'an, Jinan and Zibo in Shandong Province, most Chinese have it down as a "must climb" during their lifetime, irrespective of religious beliefs. Taishan's fame grew from the fact that in the past an emperor's first action after ascending to the throne was to make the arduous trek up to the summit and perform rituals and make sacrifices to heaven and earth.

Today the common folk that brave the almost 7,000 step climb come to make their own blessings for fertility, long life, health or good fortune. Taishan has deep Taoist connections, with temples built into the mountain at all levels, where climbers burn incense and place metal locks in the hope of securing their future. Being included in the UNESCO world heritage list in 1987 has only added to hordes that make the pilgrimage.

On the way up pause for breath near a holy cave surrounded by stone inscriptions. A shadowy figure resembling a mountain man in a green army trench coat and long gray hair framing a face set off by eyes from another dimension is on hand to tell your fortune. The entrance into the mountainside eventually opens out into a smallish cave, clouded with incense smoke and desperately cold. In the light of four fat red candles you are motioned to sit on a stone seat and listen as details of your past and future escape the old man's lips and leave you dazed. He refuses payment and escorts you out with a toothy smile before scuttling back into the darkness.

Outside a bell echoes across the mountain its deep sound seeming to come from the summit and your climb continues.

The sense of where you are takes a while to sink in on Taishan. Having heard the stories about how poets, writers and artists headed for the mountain whenever they were in need of inspiration, and seeing the evidence all around in the form of thousands of inscribed stone tablets and cliff sculptures, the concentration of energy is palpable.

A famous Chinese saying says, "Scaling Taishan makes one feel superior to the whole world," as it creates a feeling of regal dignity and imperial majesty. It also makes you feel more connected to the ordinary things around you. Pausing at scenic spots with names like Azure Cloud Temple, Peak for Viewing the Sun and Mid-heaven Gate is a reminder that anyone can connect with nature and its power, irrespective of your station in life.

The last 2,000 steps are almost vertical and continuous like climbing a long chiseled granite ribbon. Small stalls selling trinkets, cucumber and tomatoes are dotted in the recesses. Stop to suck in crisp air and platoons of touts accost you to take photos, be carried up or just buy exorbitantly priced bottles of water. It's as if they have psychologically figured out that when you are at your weakest, it's the best time to sell anything. It works, and people succumb purely to be left in peace afterward.

When the last waterfalls and oddly shaped pines and cypresses have given way and you look up, exhausted, at the red gate on the summit, it's a good feeling. A small village has been built on the flat section at the top where climbers can stop for tea, have a meal, spend the night in the hopes of catching the famed sunrise.

Top priority at the top is to head for the bell and find it on the 1st floor of a rickety tower jutting out from the west cliffs. The bell warden demands 10 yuan ($1.5) before you can swing the wooden pole and shatter the sound of silence.

Outside on Jade Emperor Peak, the Temple of the God lay a calf-cramping 9 km away, at the foot of the mountain. If, as the Chinese say, the climb up symbolizes the story of your life, then the blank stele erected on the summit makes sense. In the final analysis when we overcome  challenges we earn the privilege to write our own story. And that holds true not only for anyone climbing Taishan, but for any foreigners living in China.