Paddleboarding at the Summer Palace: A Refreshing Summer Adventure on the Water

A Summer Tale: A Cool Encounter at the South Ruyi Gate of the Summer Palace At 7 a.m. in Beijing, the sunlight was already casting a slanted glow over Kunming Lake. Riding my bike along a tree-lined path, I carried a bright yellow paddleboard I had just rented in the basket. From a distance, I spotted the gray-tiled, red-pillared South Ruyi Gate pier, where the lake shimmered like scattered gold leaf, as if stars had been sprinkled across the water. First Encounter with the "Kingdom on Water" The first time I stepped onto the wobbly paddleboard, my knees inexplicably went weak. A young man in a blue uniform on the shore handed me a life jacket with a smile, "Don't worry, this board is steadier than a bike." It took me three tries to shakily stand up, and as the paddle tip touched the water, the entire lake seemed to turn into a quivering jelly. When willow branches brushed against my cheek, I suddenly recalled the TV series *My Fair Princess*—wasn't it in these very waters that Little Swallow caused such a ruckus? Safety Tips for Dancing with the Waves Master Li, steering a ferry boat, passed by with a pile of orange life rings stacked at the bow. "Bend your waist lower, girl!" he called out, his sun-darkened arms pointing at my posture. The ropes tied to the stern glinted silver in the sunlight. I later learned that these ropes are inspected three times a day, and every knot can bear the weight of two adults. When I finally fell into the water, panic lasted only 0.5 seconds—my back was gently buoyed by the life jacket, as if I had landed on a cloud of cotton candy. Immediately, five or six long poles extended from the shore, and staff in red vests ran over, shouting, "Grab the pole, don't panic!" It was only then that I understood why they always emphasized fastening every buckle of the life jacket as if putting on clothes. Poetic Moments on the Paddle Paddling under the Zizhuyuan Bridge, the rippling water turned reflections into a colorful oil painting. Two retired teachers paddled side by side in a tandem kayak, with a chilled bottle of sour plum juice at the bow. The sound of my paddle dipping into the water startled an egret, its wings brushing past the eaves of the Tower of Buddhist Incense on Longevity Hill. Suddenly, I understood why ancient people loved to feast along the Kunyu River—when the setting sun dyed the Seventeen-Arch Bridge golden, even the air seemed to carry the sweet scent of osmanthus. The Waterborne World of Old Beijing The veteran dock workers resembled martial arts masters skilled in waterborne Tai Chi. Their movements as they untied ropes were fluid and effortless, securing the swaying boats to the dock with precision. An elderly man in a straw hat was in charge of assisting seniors; his calloused hands gripping the boat's edge were as gnarled and strong as old tree roots. He mentioned that he had been guarding the dock at the Summer Palace for 20 years and could locate every bumper plank with his eyes closed. As dusk fell, strings of lanterns lit up across the lake. Paddleboards carrying laughter glided past, with some daring to paddle while doing handstands, creating ripples that spread outward. At that moment, I finally understood why this place has become a summer haven for city dwellers—while the city is mired in rush-hour traffic, we are here on the water, crafting our own version of *Along the River During the Qingming Festival*.