Quick update: it survived. The Song Zong mother tree that is now 700 years old survived a mad man’s random hacking, but seems to have regained its 15 or so feet in height, and there was even an opening ceremony a few days ago to pray to the tea gods to bless the harvest and protect the tree. The yield from the tree this year: 3 jins (3.5 lbs), consecrated to the earthly gods the Communist government officials.
Phoenix Mountain Single Grove trees, producing some of the most unique Oolongs in the world. There is no other tea that tastes anything close to it. Tall trees that require being perched precariously on branches or on ladders in order to harvest, and inherently there are more branches than leaves as the trees age, which makes the skill and labor requirements all the more demanding. Many of these trees exceed a century or more in age at the top of Wudong Peak, with some of the oldest exceeding 500 years old. Of course, the older the root stock, the deeper and complex the taste. And the tea pickers? The older the age, the faster and lighter the touch. This morning, I watched a bunch of 60 year olds get atop these century old trees at harvest, in the gently swaying wind, loud swallows buzzing about, an intense tea fragrance surrounding everything. Trekking all the way here from California doesn’t seem like much effort in comparison.
The name Ya Sai, or Duck Poop, has to be the best name in the history of tea. Mr. Wei says their tree was constantly being clipped by fellow villagers once upon a time centuries ago, because the fragrance of its leaves was superior above all other Phoenix tea varietals. The family thought of a clever idea: they named their tree ‘Duck Poop ’ after the multitudes of ducks resting beneathe the tree. Other villagers, in hearing this gross out name, stopped coming around to steal the tea branches. It is the greatest reverse marketing idea ever thought of.
I think it’s a great name. The tea, with its deprecatingly down to earth name, was anything but- superbly elegant in its mango peel and ripe apple flower aroma, light yet memorable front notes on the palate of almonds and honey water, a salivating middle, and a long lingering finish. Not a trace of astringency. It is nothing short of heavenly levels, attributed to not only the trees themselves, but Mr. Wei’s expert handiwork. After all, a Rose by any other name would smell just as sweet, and Duck Poop oolong is one such example.
The tea gods are once again blessing me with undeserved grace. I arrive atop Phoenix Mountain, Wudong Peak at 1400 meters, in one of the best days of harvest, in one of the best years’ crops ever. Hot sun and cool breeze sway the brilliant green beak like leaf sprouts. The tea I am here for: Duck Poop Oolong,made by the best of the best, Mr. Wei.
It is a scene, the bringing in of raw leaves by harvestors every few minutes, the buyers piling in every hour to taste the crops, Mr. Wei’s 2 year old copying everything mom, or dad, or grandma, does. The buyers are the ones with the loud shirts and well fed stomachs. They buy the top of the line Ya Sai in 30 lb increments, and if I didn’t put my order in, they would have taken the entire day’s production. Price is no longer an object for the wealthy Chinese tea drinkers, who have the cash as well as the taste.
Some tea professionals, I heard, claimed that there was no such thing as Single Grove tea trees, nor that one has to climb the trees to harvest, or get on a ladder, or that there were these 600 year old trees. Whatever.
Today, the tea pickers were all in a good mood, because Mr. Wei’s 65 year old mom was personally climbing the 600 year old tree to do the harvesting.