Portrait of an LBX

By Andy

2010/06/16 — 79 km

Fresh, wild mushrooms for breakfast. Photo by Andy

Some days just make you feel privileged to have the opportunity to be out riding a bike instead of in an office, at home or just about anywhere else.

We crawl out of bed to the alarm at 6:30 in order to try a new strategy of biking for a few hours, taking a couple-hour break mid-day, and then biking a few more hours in the afternoon. All three of us are bouncing up and down, fighting the urge to pee our pants. You see, after we moved all our stuff into the hotel the night before, the hotel owner informed us that we would have to go to the bathroom at the gas station next door and locked the bathroom in her own hotel. We all peed off the balcony and into the parking lot at some point in the night, but without the cover of darkness we aren’t so bold now.

We step out under a brilliant blue sky. It has rained all night and every trace of the haze that followed us out of the city the day before is gone. The air is crisp and cool and the golden morning sun makes even the dreary old truck-stop town of yesterday a sight to behold.

A group of ethnic Miao women is gathering along either side of the street, selling wild mushrooms from the mountains in baskets. We pay 35 kuai ($5.12) for a sizable portion and bring it with us to breakfast to have done up in local style as we watch more and more women and children come down from the mountains with baskets of fresh wild mushrooms for sale.

Breakfast otherwise is fried noodles as usual. The mushrooms come out a bit later, sliced up and fried plain in copious amounts of oil. So maybe the local style isn’t all that great. Nobody starts hallucinating from the wild fungi, so after some stretching we begin down the road.

We climb at first, finishing the ridge separating two valleys that we began the night before as we sprinted into town ahead of the rainstorm. Cresting the ridge, short, rounded mountains stretch off into the distance on either side, and we descend into a long, green valley. (more…)

By Andy

2010/06/11 — 149 km

Big day. I wake up abruptly to the alarm at 6:45 after the best sleep I’ve had over the last three nights — and that’s not saying much. I just can’t sleep in a tent. I have a hard enough time getting a good sleep in a comfortable bed these days, despite the daily physical exhaustion.

We get things packed up and get a reasonably early start down the wooded mountain corridor, where we pass dozens of “food and lodging” (食宿) places no longer offering either food or lodging. It’s amazing to think how much commerce used to go up and down this little, two-lane road (national road 國道320), which stretches from the Burma border near Ruili the whole way east to Shanghai, over 3,000 km away. It’s nearly empty now, unless the expressway that has since supplanted it is closed in one direction, in which case it’s a miserable, dangerous mess.

I can only imagine that’s what it was like back when G320 was the main trade artery between Lashio and Kunming, which would explain the dozens of now-derelict eateries.

Still a ways to go, although you never know with these signs, by Andy

After a breakfast of noodles at a Muslim restaurant (they make the best boiled noodles by a long shot when boiled noodles are all there is to be had!), we continue down the road. The valley gradually widens and we are on a wide highway of sorts. We pass two signs that seem to indicate that the expressway that parallels our national road can be reached to the left and that we should continue straight (have a look at the picture to the left and see if you agree with that assumption).

I continue ahead while Evan stops to take some pictures of local architecture and the murals on the walls and climb up a steep mountain for nearly a kilometer. When I get to the top though the road dead-ends at a toll booth. I approach and ask the woman at the ticket window, “This isn’t the expressway, is it?”

Oh, but it is.

“What happened to the national road toward Kunming?”

She gives me a confused look and calls another worker over. After a moment of consultation the man tells me, “You have to go back down the mountain and turn right.” (more…)

By Andy

2010/06/10 — 117 km

Little Weirdo, by Andy

This time we get out of our tents and packed up an hour earlier, although we still get on the road half an hour later than we would if we were in a hotel. Before we climb down from our plowed, planted perch, I check the altitude and find we’re at 2,390 m (7,841 ft). By the time we get on our bikes and climb to the top of the pass, we’re over 2,400 m (7,874 ft), the highest we’ve climbed on the trip, and possibly the highest we’ll get until we’re climbing up onto the Tibetan Plateau in Sichuan province.

We find breakfast 18 km later in the valley, and I’ve already gotten my head in a steam about the insane traffic that still plagues us. Fortunately, when we pull into the restaurant I notice that the long strand of trucks, buses and SUVs is originating from the expressway exit in town, and breathe a sigh of relief that we’ll be free of the awful traffic and numerous near-death encounters until the next time they decide to close off the expressway in one direction for a hundred kilometers or so.

The day turns out to be fairly easy and uneventful, consisting of long cruises through green, rice-covered valleys and the occasional climb over into the next.

We stop for lunch around two, but Evan doesn’t eat. We’ve got metabolisms about as opposite as they come. When we continue after lunch, we find the Yunnan architecture that we’ve been marveling at so much (and which I’ve failed to mention to this point) has grown even more interesting. (more…)

By Andy

2010/06/09 — 82 km

After packing up and scampering down from our parched perch overlooking the national road, we climb the remainder of the mountain on which we camped and cruise into the next valley.

As soon as we hit the bottom, the air is filled with gray dust and I pull out my sunglasses. It doesn’t take long to discover the source of the dust: in the short valley and proceeding up the road for at least two kilometers on the next slope are tombstone-carving factory after tombstone-carving factory. Never have I seen so many hokey lion statues and dragons carved into mausoleum-sized rock structures. I guess the rock must be good there!

We find our first town and “breakfast” at the top of the next slope. When we first started camping on this trip in Hebei, we were pretty jittery about how it would work out. There were no natural forests to speak of, and we had no choice but to climb into one of the many tree farms, with trees planted in long, straight rows. No matter how far in we walked, we could still see the road. Given the strict residence and registration rules for foreigners in China, we were worried about being discovered. I don’t think Evan slept a wink the entire night. The next morning we were gone and on the road at first light.

Oh how things have changed. Now we sit in the tents until the sun gets unbearable and then lazily go through all the numerous motions of packing up all the gear and finally getting on the road.

At first we’re a little confused when the lady at the restaurant tells us there’s no breakfast, but it all makes sense when I see that it’s already 11:30. Well, that was a good 10 km before lunch! (more…)

By Andy

2010/06/08 — 72 km

Dali is a treat, although not in the most relaxing way, since there we meet up with a college buddy Rick who lives there. Our original plan calls for two days in Dali, but a stomach bug keeps us there for three.

After one last Western breakfast, we finally get on the road around 11:30. The combination of a day and night of spent sitting on the toilet and trying to hold my food in has left me utterly exhausted, but we need to be on toward Kunming, where our friend Aaron is coming in from Shanghai to meet up and ride for a week.

"Accumulate wealth for the nation; carry out the law for the people." Pay your taxes (more each year) or the law will be carried out for you, people!

Immediately upon leaving the Dali old town, we remember just where we are. After three days of snoozy little streets and cafes, the national road out of town is a rude awakening. Horns blare, the “hallos!” are back in full force, and there’s even a good strong wind blasting us in the face to welcome us back to the road.

Eventually, and this is like 25 km in, which is a tribute to Dali’s suburban sprawl, the four-lane concrete road narrows down to two lanes of bumpy asphalt, and we begin climbing into pine-covered mountains on an easy grade. (more…)

By Andy

2010/05/23 — 90 km

The view climbing out of Danjia, by Andy

Right away Devi gets to witness our interminable stupidity. After another noodly breakfast, we climb 10 km out of town up cobblestone roads. The laoban at breakfast had told us to “just keep going straight” while motioning wildly to the right when we asked her how to get to Mengsheng (勐省), the halfway point on our trip to Gengma. So when at the top of the 10 km climb we get to a fork in the road, we head right and down the bumpy, cobblestone path for 4.5 km. When the disappears on the other side of a small town, I ask an old man the way to Mengsheng. I’m not exactly surprised when he points back up the hill and tells me to go the other way at the fork.

Half an hour later, we’re at the top again and taking the proper turn, which leads us down a few sit-bones-busting kilometers of cobblestones before finally spitting us out on the provincial road, which to our surprise, is completely torn up and under construction. The biggest reason we decided to take this route of crazy mountain roads was to avoid massive stretches of torn up provincial roads with trucks kicking dust up into our faces.

Good old construction for endless kilometers!

But here we are, and at least it’s downhill. In fact, we finally get to cash in all the elevation karma we’ve built up over the past few days in the mountains as we clamber down the uneven slope, descending for a full 20 km into the valley where we hit Mengsheng for lunch.

On our way out of Mengsheng we ask five or six times how to get to Gengma, each time receiving different answers. Some have never even heard of the place, which is the county seat of the next county over. Others tell us to head back up to the torn up provincial road high above, while others tell us to head down the hill and out of town. Eventually enough people tell us to go out of town until we get to a bridge that we figure that’s probably the way to go. (more…)

By Andy

2010/05/22 — 83 km

After a breakfast of (you guessed it) noodles, which Devi forgoes, we shoot out of town on a newly paved road, flying down the mountain a top speed and slowing down only to work our way through packs of cows walking down the road. We hit flat land and then some uphill, but something doesn’t seem quite right.

“We’re not going in the right direction,” Evan says, tapping the compass mounted to his handlebars. We ask the next person we see on the road, and sure enough, we’re on the road heading to the Burma border to the west. We call ahead to Devi to get her to turn back, and then begin the climb back up the mountain to Xuelin. Nearly back to the village, and now 7 km into our ride, we see a sign and a turnoff that we failed to notice while flying down the mountain. It’s good Devi gets to see how unfailingly stupid we are.

Our new road is no longer paved. Thankfully it’s not cobblestone either — just a sandy, dirt road, washed out from the massive rainstorm the night before. Why China would build a newly paved road straight to the Burma border but leave the road between Chinese towns a washed-out mess is beyond me. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that logging is illegal in China, but Burma has abundant rain forests that are strangely disappearing and being replaced by bare, clear-cut mountains. I’m no expert.

Personally the main reason I don’t like dirt roads is that I have to go slowly when going downhill. The whole fun of climbing a mountain for me, besides the incredible view from the top, is the rush of careening down it on the other side. Nevertheless, we hit the bottom far too soon, and it’s time to begin climbing.

Today is a climb like we’ve never had. The small, dirt road, barely more than a path really, shoots straight up the heavily wooded mountain, like whoever dug it out in the first place had never heard of a switchback. My legs, with all the power and discipline of eight months on the road, strain to keep me moving forward. It’s not a particularly hot day, overcast in fact, but within minutes my jersey, shorts and socks are heavy with sweat and I’m trying to blink the sting out of my eyes. I have to pause every kilometer or two for a breather. (more…)

By Andy

2010/05/21 — 47 km

Having arrived so late in Fubang the night before, we opt for a “natural wake-up” (自然醒) rather than the usual alarm. It’s the best night of sleep I’ve had in a week. We frequently wonder why we don’t get better sleep considering the physical trials we put ourselves through daily. The night before took it out of me physically, but I think the mental exertion involved in the snails-pace climb up 15 kilometers of cobblestone road alone in the dark jungle was what finally brought me to the point of true exhaustion and thus a good night’s sleep.

We walk down the street to what looks like the only restaurant in town for a breakfast of noodles, which Devi is already tiring of. Since Henan, baozi and jiaozi have been scarce, and breakfast has been noodles just about every day.

After breakfast, we leave behind the concrete road in Fubang for the cobblestones again. To my surprise, the mountain keeps going up! As if 15 km of climbing wasn’t enough! A kilometer later we reach our turnoff, just as the sky once again starts to look like it wants to pick a fight with us.

Waiting out one last bit of rain after lunch, by Andy

Our new road is cobblestone as well, when it’s not mud, and it quickly dashes my hopes and dreams of an easy descent for the first half of our ride. It also seems to fork into two directions every few kilometers, and we keep having to stop and wait for another passerby on a moped to make sure we stay on the right route. China doesn’t bother making signs for most things, probably because the roads are traveled almost exclusively by locals who have no use for signs. (more…)