

Despite having lived in Taiwan for a decade, I can count on the fingers of one hand (just) the number of times I’ve been to Kaohsiung. Even more unforgivably, it took me several visits to finally get around to exploring one of the city’s most famous sights: Shoushan (aka Mount Shou, aka Monkey Mountain). Still (as mountaineers are wont to say) the mountains will wait, and (as my mother might say) better late than never.
Occupying a kidney-shaped stretch of land to the northwest of Kaohsiung City, my pre-visit impression of Shoushan was of monkey-filled jungle, which — as it happens — was pretty accurate (though the monkeys were much more relaxed than I had anticipated). Primates aside, the combination of coral limestone and jungle plants makes for a refreshing difference to what I’m used to up in the north. The whole hillside is formed from the craggy stuff, and spelunking (with permits and registered guides) offers another exciting way to dive deeper into the landscape.
So, knowing that it could take me another ten years to return, I decided to go all out and attempt two of the region’s trails in one day. The one featured here and an ascent to the summit (or almost summit) of Mount Shou.
Distance: About 6 kilometres with the option to extend by several kilometres and visit the summit of Mount Shou.
Time: 2½-3½ hours at a pleasant speed.
Total ascent: Around 300 metres.
Difficulty (regular Taiwan hiker): 2-3/10 — For those used to hiking in Taiwan, this should be an easy hike. Still, the southern heat with this number of steps is quite a tiring proposition.
Difficulty (new Taiwan hiker): 4/10 — For anyone new to Taiwan’s trails, the number of steps may be daunting, but that aside, this shouldn’t prove too challenging.
Risks and dangers: Heat and monkeys are probably your two biggest foes. For the heat, take plenty of water and maybe a Pocari Sweat or similar. For the monkeys, watch how the locals behave. If you don’t put any plastic or snacks stuffed into the outer pockets of your bag and don’t take food out in front of them, you should be OK.
Water: I took 0.8L and drank most of it. There are a couple of convenience stores between the train station and the trailhead, and you can top up your water bottle at a couple of the shelters along the way.
Shade: There’s dappled shade for most of this route. If you’re sun-shy, you will need protection in the form of a hat and long sleeves or an umbrella.
Mobile network: I had good mobile signal throughout.
Enjoyment: This was a lovely walk on well-maintained trails through the kind of scenery I don’t often get to experience up in the north. Added to that, there were cute monkeys (I didn’t encounter any troublesome ones), and some nice views of the ocean. Of the two Shoushan trails I walked, this was my favourite by a long way.
Bathroom facilities: You can find toilets close to both trailheads. (At the starting point, you’ll need to enter the temple to find them.)
Route type: Either a loop (if you include the part that goes to the station) or point-to-point.
Permit: None needed.
Jump to the bottom of this post for a trail map and GPX file.


I joined the hoards of morning hikers beginning their ascent from the Longquan Temple trailhead. The area is clearly a hiking hot spot because even on a Monday morning, there were vendors selling bottled drinks and hiking paraphernalia like sticks, backpacks and shoes (I understand the drinks, but I’m not sure who arrives at a trailhead without shoes).
I began walking without checking out the temple, but if you’re not in a hurry, I urge you to pop in. It’s famed for a stalagmite that grew to resemble the goddess Guanyin holding a child.

It’s interesting to hike a trail like this. Though the landscape is very different, it reminds me somewhat of my backyard trail in that it’s close to the city and clearly has a community of folks who are out there every day. These fellows are instantly recognisable because they’re the ones powering up without breaking a sweat. (You might think that my being a regular on my own backyard trail means I should be able to keep pace, but I think there’s some phenomenon whereby an unfamiliar trail feels more taxing purely because you’re unsure of how to pace yourself.)


The other locals are the long-limbed varieties hanging out in the trees, aka the monkeys. It didn’t take me long to meet a few of these.

Usually, I try to photograph every junction, but given how maze-like the trail network here is, I am instead going to limit myself to major trail junctions involving the boardwalk. (There are countless other dirt trails that I haven’t included pictures of.) At this first big junction, take the rightmost boardwalk heading to Xiaoping Pavilion.


Signs of the hill’s past life as a military control zone can be seen beside the trail in the form of old concrete fence posts and this boundary marker indicating that the land is under the control of the Marine Corps. I also noticed at least one grave. Given the hill’s prominent coastal location, it shouldn’t be surprising that it has been an important territory, with recorded use stretching back through the more recent era of martial law under ROC forces, through the periods of Japanese and Qing occupation, all the way to when the land was only home to Indigenous Taiwanese. (If you want to find out more the military history of the region, there’s a room dedicated to the Marine Corps nearby.)

In what would turn out to be a bit of a theme for the walk, at the next junction, I kept right. (The one on the left is a more direct route to the pavilions further up.)

Lots of less developed dirt trails dive off the main boardwalk path, many of them leading to a network of underground caves (permits are required for any aspiring spelunkers).


Despite it still being early, the sun was already beating down with southern ferocity. For myself and the other hikers, this means that sun hats became uncomfortably hot (both myself this woman swapped our hats out for parasols at the same time), and for the skinks, it meant time to do some basking. Kaohsiung’s skinks are chunky compared to the ones we get up north — either that, or every single skink I encountered was gravid.

I skipped past another set of steps on the left.


After an exposed climb, the trail reaches the first in a series of pavilions dotting the ridge line. Here, a single monkey mother held her baby, watching the hikers pass with an expression that (on a human) would be read as disdain. A short distance further, the park forks in two. The right hand trail only goes a little further before terminating at another pavilion, so I headed left, passing a trio of monkey teens engaging in youthful high jinks.

The trail dips down to another junction (the left-hand fork is hidden by the rockface), and I headed right.
Judging by the way he greeted (and was greeted by) some of the hikers walking in the opposite direction, this gentleman is someone who hikes the trail frequently, and I have to say he impressed me rather a lot. He was holding himself in a manner that I’ve seen in stroke survivors, with weakness in his left side, but despite that, he kept pace with me, even overtaking me when I stopped to take photos.


This next stretch is somewhat gentler. The boardwalk dips and climbs through a landscape of uplifted coral bedrock, mostly with enough shade to make it comfortable.


Head right at both of the next two larger junctions (and skip past a couple of smaller dirt paths that I didn’t photograph).




The trail then climbs a little more to reach Yazuo Pavilion (雅座亭). Given how crowded this was on a Monday morning, I can only imagine it’s a veritable supermarket on weekends. Many hikers were gathered on the viewing deck overlooking the blue waters of the Taiwan Strait or under the shade of the pavilion, where a collection of huge water tanks contain both water and tea that hikers can enjoy for free (locals carry the water up in huge water-bearing backpacks).

Hikers weren’t the only ones enjoying the ocean breeze — a small troupe of monkeys was also resting at the pavilion’s southern edge.

After taking a short break, I pressed on again, leaving via the steps right beside the pavilion. Again, keep straight/right and don’t take any of the trails on the left.


To the right, I noticed several of these (misspelled) signs warning that the land beyond is a military area. Looking at the topological map that I use, it seems there are quite a few pockets of land in these hills that are no-go zones.

The path descends to a second tea-stocked pavilion. Having not long enjoyed a break, I kept going, taking a right here again. (If you want to stick to purely boardwalk trail, you can head left through the pavilion area and follow that path back down. It should emerge at the location shown in the sixth image in this post.)
I think I may have failed to photograph one more important junction where the steps descend to a T-junction and I took another right.


Eventually, the boardwalk runs out and segues into a dusty, rock-strewn path (neatly explaining why boardwalks are a good idea here). Turn left onto the track, then basically follow it all the way as it zig-zags downhill. (If you’re a peak bagger, you might want to turn right at this second junction and follow the trail to the summit of Mount Shou.)

In the midday May heat, even the descent felt unpleasant, but judging by the faces of those on their way up, the ascent was even worse.

I bore left upon a feature called “Cement Materials Inlet”. The limestone bedrock of the hills here is a rich source of the basic ingredients used to make cement, and starting in the Japanese era, this area was a major source (perhaps the major source) of locally produced cement. Workers quarried sharp lines into the slope, many of which form the basis of today’s footpaths. The industry also left other marks, like this huge inlet structure where collected materials would be dumped, allowing gravity to carry them down to the processing plant. For more on the concrete plant ruins, check out this interesting write-up.

For the most part, you can just follow the track down to the trailhead. The only exception is this last couple of hundred metres, where the boardwalk steps on the left allow you to take a steep shortcut.


Before long, the steps let out by a trailhead carpark and toilet block, and from here, it’s a short stroll or bike ride along the road to the train station.
How to get to Shoushan
Google Maps address: I started my walk here at Longquan Temple and finished at Kaohsiung Beigushan Qianguang Temple. There’s a huge carpark at the second trailhead, and the two are just a five-minute walk from each other by road, so if you’re coming by car, you could park at Qianguang Temple then walk to Longquan Temple to start the walk.
GPS location:
- Start — N22 39.315 E120 16.385
- Finish — N22 39.085 E120 16.390
Public transport: To get to the trailhead, take a train to the Museum of Fine Arts station and either walk or ride a YouBike towards the trailhead. (You can pick up a YouBike from the station and drop it off at this stand.)
Nearby trails:
- Mount Shou (Xiao Bai Yue)
Shoushan Trail Map

GPX file available here on Outdoor Active. (Account needed, but the free one works just fine.)