I recently had the pleasure of spending an afternoon drinking tea and talking with a friend who knows a lot about the Pu'er industry. (Sorry, he doesn't want to be identified.)
He brought along a non-compressed tea whose leaves were loosely twisted and showed the occasional silvery tip. He didn't want to say anything about it until I'd tasted it. (To the extent that this was a test, I failed, as I really couldn't figure out what it was.) It had something in common with a tippy Dian Hong (Yunnan red/black), especially in the dry leaf aroma. When brewed, it reminded me at once of white tea and some of the more delicate Chinese red teas. Its aroma seemed better than its mouth feel. After three steeps, it was pretty much played out. My friend then disclosed what it was: essentially a Pu'er oolong. The tea's maker had taken sun-dried maocha and subjected it to the bruising and oxidation normal for oolong. As far as I know, this tea hasn't been sold, perhaps because its maker wasn't satisfied with it. I was glad to have drunk it, and if this was an experiment, I hope it will be pursued.
That afternoon, I found out something about a shu Pu'er that I love (my friend is much less enthusiastic): the 2003 Wu Liang Mountain tea from Fu Cha Ju (sometimes mis-romanized as Fo Cha Ji.) It's unusually fruity - I could swear I taste quince - and has other interesting layers, too. My friend says this tea was subjected to ultra-slow baking, like some Taiwan oolongs, after a more or less normal manufacturing process for a shu Pu'er.
The Chinese tea industry is pretty opaque to westerners like me, and I think we tend to assume that the good producers, at least, follow traditional methods unswervingly. That's a first approximation, at best, I think.
/Lew