It was only at the end of last year, however, that, returning to the area again, we finally got directions to this intriguing, unknown scenic wonder. We had to wait a little longer still until a fine, unseasonably warm weekend in early January, before getting the chance to actually trek out to the waterfall.

Taiyao Waterfall (抬耀瀑布) lies on the Shilei Stream, high above the potholed, ever winding mountain road known as county route 60 in a remote corner of Hsinchu County, about 40 kilometers southeast of the county city, although it’s much easier to reach the area from the North Cross-island Highway (national route 7), which passes a few kilometers to the east.

The narrow route 60 turns off the highway to the right near the settlement of Sia Baling (下巴陵), shortly after it crosses the canyon of the Dahan River by an impressive new bridge often used by bungee jumpers.

Follow route 60 for a kilometer, turn right at the fork and follow it through the small aboriginal villages of Yieheng and Tieliku, taking care as the narrow road is in terrible condition in a few places. About four kilometers after Tieliku, there’s a fork beside a large wooden map board.

Turn left, uphill here, passing the wooden sign marking the trailhead for Maliguang Waterfall, and follow the road up, up and up. It’s a very steep climb in places, but finally the road enters the tiny, remote aboriginal settlement of Taiyao (抬耀), clinging to the steep mountainside and—of course—commanding a stupendous view. Turn right at the fork, passing along the main street of the settlement, and follow the road ahead, as it continues climbing still higher, although the panorama is soon left behind as the road enters a forest that covers the highest slopes of the great ridge.

Now park the car beside the first (square) water tank standing beside the road at a sharp zigzag bend and walk behind it to reveal a narrow trail. Follow this trail along the route of an abandoned water channel and several water pipes as they contour the wooded mountainside.

It’s now about an hour’s walk to Taiyao Waterfall, and much of the way the path is bordered by a low barrier of rough black fabric or a fence made of woven twigs, which were put here by the local aboriginals to trap animals.

Take a closer look, and at regular intervals there are small gaps in the barrier at ground level, each guarded with a small trap that snaps shut on any unfortunate creature trying to pass through onto the forested mountainside beyond. As we walked, we saw several small mice and a bird had fallen victim to these cunning devices, though we never found out what use the poor dead things could be put to.

Although it starts off easy enough at first, the way becomes more difficult after about fifteen minutes, as small landslips have almost wiped out the path in a few places. After half an hour or so, the sound of falling water is heard far below, and the trail swings round into the ravine of the Shilei Stream.

Finally, after another 20 minutes, at one point following a short but scary stretch as the water channel (and trail) gingerly edge round a sheer cliff face (the bamboo safety rails are a welcome addition here), the water channel abruptly meets the stream at a small pool right at the brink of Taiyao Waterfall, which leaps over a bare cliff into the abyss below. Peering cautiously over the bamboo rail into the ravine, we can see only the first few meters of the drop, and it’s impossible to tell exactly how high the waterfall really is.

Sitting on the rocky bank at the base of a smaller waterfall above the main plunge, we have to be content that we did, finally, find this secret place. Maybe if we ask a few more locals, they’ll share with us another secret: how to get to the bottom of the big leap. But for now we’ll have to be satisfied with just finding it. Anyway, it’s oddly fitting that a place that took us 10 years to finally find should retain a little of its mystery.