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June 28, 2004

Rick's 250-mile bike ride

Here's a recent email Rick wrote about his trip from Lanzhou to Xiahe via bicycle. Definitely a different experience than mine...chugging across the landscape in a beat up minibus.

Day before yesterday I completed my 250-mile bicycle journey across Gansu province. Starting from the comsmopolitan/smogtrap of Lanzhou I arrived in the Tibetan monastery of Xiahe via Yongling and Linxia.

As you could imagine with a 6-foot-6 whitey riding solo through China there were some memorable moments. I cannot go into all of them but here are a few highlights:

Walking down any street in any township I seem to cause a wave of ruckus that results in kung-fu-like call..."ahh...ahh!" summonsing more vertically challenged folks to come and awe at the towering knucklehead. Once in linxia, a taylor ran out with a yardstick, measured up to my waste, then flipped the stick towards my head replying "ahhh 2 meteres!"

Then there was the riding.

Reading Chinese road signs for someone with A.D.D. like me is much like having Anna Nicole Smith reading from a calculus book.
Case in point was the second day of riding.
Seems I missed my main turnoff, climbing 30 miles over a mountain range til I realized I was in the wrong place...
Wouldnt have been bad, but it added 30 miles onto to a rugged 60 mile ride.
When I made my back to the where I started I began a 17 mile climb up 4000 feet of rugged dirt remiscent of a ride from las vegas to Death valley over the funeral mountains......It was a ride that would have made ghengis Khan cry. Guzzling 4 litres of water and relying on the inspiration of two red bulls, I reached a tiny village seriously on the edge of dehydration and delirious with exhaustion. I went up to a door, knocked, and a boy freaked....I mean freaked! when he saw my face. "Shui?" (water?) like the stereo typical man in the desert.
He called behind the gate and i wiped my eyes when a muslim cleric came to the forefront, pulled me inside what I hadnt realized was a mosque. He sat me down and checked me over, much like a doctor. He poured two litres of water and offered me food, shelter, and gentle encouragement.
So much for stereotypes. After 10 hours I cycled 45 miles of pavement and 45 miles of dirt breathed 8 pounds of diesel smoke and 14 pounds of dust.
When I arrived in Linxia at 10 pm, dirty and broken, Christina opened the door and nearly cried.

So much for the sour.

As for the sweet....

I guess one wouldnt consider a flat tire something of sweetness, but the one I had in a small town near linxia brought sweet-silly memories.

I was riding along minding my business when the telltale hiss of a flat summoned me to pull over.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) it was at the intersection of a bustling market.
There was bicyle repair man (as their are everywhere here) right there.
I asked him how much to fix the tire...
As I did a crowd gatherd like a cumulus cloud.
"Five", he said.(thats a rippoff because most pay 2)
"Three" I bargained.
"no" he shook his head.
"F-it!" I said as I began to unpack my shit (and I mean alot of shit) onto the dirt to repair my own damn tire thank you very much.
Well,
soon i was pulling things out of my bags and the crowd kept growing.
20, 30, then nearly fifty townsfolk gathered around ooohing and awwwing at every stupid item
i pulled from my bags.
If that wasnt bad enough, the patagonia shorts I was wearing were to big, so every time I stood up they nearly fell off causing uproarious laughter throughout the crowd.
This, in turn, summonsed even more to join peering over others shoulders to get a better look.
When I finished I held the tire high in triumph, exclaiming to the bicyle repair man, "Two quai??) for my services and the crowd went bolistic.
Then, I re attached all my junk to my bike and signaled for the crowd to stand back...
As I swung my giant leg over the seat, the crowd leaned to one side again breaking into laughter.
I made a short bow, and road into the sunset...

And finally...

Yesterday:

Making our way by bikes from the 800 monk tibetan monastery of Xiahe, Christina and I pedalled to some high grasslands and camped in Yurts at 10,000 feet.
Sitting there enjoying the view, a wonderful old tibetan man came up and offered horse back riding for 2 bucks an hour.
I imagined Christina and i riding into the rolling green hills, which looked exactly like the inner mongolian steppe, then shooting these amazing pictures our tibetan hosts who were amazingly dressed....
Then came reality.
We payed the cash and the tibetans whistled to these two dudes dressed in north face jackets who brought over two midget horses...
When I climbed on, the crowd laughed because my knees were literally dragging on the ground.
If that werent enough the north face dudes grabbed the reigns of the horses and walked towards what we thought were their horses....
then passed them.
We were walked like dogs like carousel horses around this dry dust pit.

So much for fantasy.

Posted by Christina on June 28, 2004 05:52 PM
Category: Gansu
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