Ms Magazine
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March to Taiwan
Purchased the plane ticket for myself and my bike to Taiwan. Jason and I are cycling this gem of a country, um…I mean “province”. It should be pretty simple and straightforward.
I’ve also recently acquired a 10″ netbook for my travels. Finally I’ll be able to edit RAW and upload them for you to see. Along with loading up Google Earth and maps and Lonely Planet Guides that just add extra weight.
Cyclists Border Plans from China to India
I’m on a couple message groups for cycle touring. I can’t quite figure out why people don’t start researching border crossings before they begin their tour. It’s almost once a month I see cyclists planning on getting to India via Tibet.
I keep my ears and eyes open to the interwebs and it’s still practically impossible. I got a report from one fellow American, Charlie Wittmack that is traveling the globe via cycling, swimming, or running. He made it across SUPPORTED with local guides, lots of permits, still getting refused passing at points, and a LOT of money.
If I read another post from someone saying we are cowards, not in those exact terms, for “not trying” and that it is part of the adventure…..I’m going to throw my bike at them. As you sit in the USA/Europe planning your excursion through Tibet…finding “roads” on Google Maps…..it’s NOT possible without a whole ton of “guanxi” and even more money.
What I don’t get is that China is so big with about 52 minority ethnic groups and absolutely gorgeous places to go without a fight with officials. So, gently set your ago down, not on the drivetrain side, and come back to reality with the rest of us post 2007 cyclists. If you’ve never been to China you haven’t learned that they aren’t like your friendly American officer that rescues kittens from trees, helps old ladies cross the street, and all those other glorious stereotypes.
Of course every cyclist wants to go to Tibet, and it’s usually always a destination in the VERY early planning. Maybe it’s worth a try from some, but I have a desirable work Visa and would love to have opportunities to return to China. Maybe if you really don’t care, then you can try to be “the one”. But if you only have a 3 month Visa, be careful if you getting turned back at check stops.
This is my snarky post for the next couple months. I’ll have a better attitude next time. I promise.
Bike Doctor
The ride was taken in today for some maintenance and cleaning. She’s getting a new derailleur for sure. Jason had an epiphany that maybe a MTB component would hold up better for me. It’s not like I’m lying her down on the right side, but still, an awful lot of vibrations, dirt, dust, and just all around muck.
My replacement tires finally arrived. TRUST ME, NEVER NEVER NEVER, SKIMP on a pair of good tires. After I met the “Potrait of the LBX” guys and claimed no flats in 5000km I kicked myself in the a$$ REALLY HARD! Our first day in Qinghai, I got 3 flats in 10 minutes – in the rain…in the city. NO MORE. I swear to …
Ever since…
…Mongolia I have been wrestling with myself. (Mongolians like to wrestle too).
A half a kilometer before crossing from China to Mongolia, it had been difficult. One thing after the next. It seemed THAT NOTHING went the way it was suppose to. I know you should prepare for incidents like this…but seriously, never in my life had there been days after days of everything just down right sucking!
(I would have more photos but since that camera was stolen I’m missing some stuff).
We tried to ride North from Zamyn Udd but the road disappeared – literally. I had been warned to NOT FOLLOW jeep/motorcycle tracks as they can lead you nowhere, or your death. After attempting to talk to two truck drivers (from big Russian-wheelers), one woman, and a young girl in a pink silk dress – we asked them about the roads and he just pointed towards Zamyn Udd spreading his arms back and forth horizontally. (I understood this as saying the roads are everywhere).
This is where we tried to hitch hike.
Looking South towards China:
Looking North towards Ulan Bator (where we wanted to go):
This little girl was spending the afternoon before the Sand/Wind storm blew in throwing rocks at a horse.
We met some great people. Thank god this little fellow could speak Mandarin and Mongolian. We may actually owe our lives to him.
They make ’em stronger in the North.
We did finally make it to Ulan Bator, which was a complete fiasco and nightmare. And where I killed my budget getting back to China.
After a couple of days of finding maps, talking with people, weighing the pros and cons. We did set out on a very cold and windy morning. We passed truck after truck coming from the West, loaded sky high with dog? pelts.
It was so windy, barely making it at 8km/hour. I was extremely sluggish (I ended up getting really sick that night). It was gorgeous but I was freezing, slow, and just feeling really dogged. Jason rode ahead of me but returned when he noticed I was not near.
We stood on the side of the road and watched a storm roll in. Storms on the plains are amazing…this isn’t an uncommon experience. You can see it in the distance and time it for duck and cover. You can also get an idea how long it’s going to last. This is where I sat, looking out, and made the decision to head back to China. And this is the exact place where my dreams fell apart. Take a note of the road conditions…um, I mean jeep tracks.
I’ve longed for Mongolia for years now. There is something about the stories, the photos, everything…that has drawn me to this land. Well, needless to say, it gave me a really good ass kicking. Jason built his bike frame so I was also concerned about his bike holding up, along with his 25kg limit aluminum racks. Do I regret turning back, probably not…but I regret trying to go North West when I would be face to face with wind. And I’m talking about a wind you probably have NEVER experienced.
I think of Mongolia AT LEAST once a day and it’s usually when I’m lying in bed recounting my rotations and playing the “what if” game.
So, I threw out the idea to my pen pal, Ed, of the Torugart Pass from China into Kyrgyzstan. I’m playing with the idea of just heading out of China and pass through the K’stans to get back into the North West side of Mongolia. I could at least have a hell of a tailwind to Ulan Bator. Can I handle eating all the boiled lamb…probably not. But I think I could handle the non existent roads, and it will be a hell of a lot easier to hitch hike as a solo cyclist. I just can’t be defeated and maybe I’ll get to see Lake Baikal after all.
One of my ideas was to catch a train in China to get to Lhasa. But yeah, sounds like a super touristy place. If you know me in the bit least…you know I go in the opposite direction of tourists. So, what would I do once I get to Lhasa? Go to India…then where? I’m kind of getting stopped in those tracks…so it’s to the K-stans. From there…I don’t know. That Russia Visa is a pain in my butt!!!! I may have some guanxi to use for this.
So now I’m thinking of doing a circuit into Ulan Bator or heck…just go to Europe.
Please stay tuned as I’ll be back on the saddle in about 2 months. Just got my Visa renewed for another year…that’s the most important thing right now.
“The” Room.
I’m going through photos, some editing, some thinking…and I thought I could handle looking at some photos. But, I enlarged it and I got a big lump in my throat, my arms went numb, and now I kinda feel like I want to vomit. But…this, for you my reader. The room I was locked in for over 3 hours having my life threatened and knowing what he was planning on doing. I do have a photo of “him”…but I don’t know if I can edit that one yet. (I shoot RAW).
Can you imagine if I had let it all end here? Gross.
Learned lessons:
1. don’t be so exhausted you accept help from strangers – that don’t speak Mandarin to the laoban/laobanniang (I can’t understand Mongolian).
2. never stay in a lu dian room without a window.
3. never EVER let your guard down.
4. let him think you have given up the fight and when he leasts expects it…WHAM!
5. sometimes when you ask for real help, some people do not want to get involved or help.
I hope that SOB was in a motorcycle crash.
Things That Change
I’ve been talking with my pen pal, Ed, lately about life and the life after a cycle ride – although mine has been considerably shorter…thus far.
Anyhow, the vain girl part of me gets a little frustrated about other things that are more obvious of change.
If you ever plan on a long tour, consider if you can live with this:
1. No more skinny jeans. Actually, you’ll be lucky to even find pants. Never really was a fashion diva of sorts, so I can deal with it…just a little frustrating at times.
2. My skin this winter is dry dry DRY. Even for my naturally oily skin, its unusually dry this winter…in moist town Sh.
3. Sun spots! Yep, lots of them. As my tan slowly fades away, I see the damage. I even had 2 moles removed last month because they were beginning to cause a little trouble.
4….and the kicker…WRINKLES!!!! Especially all around the eyes and the nose bridge. Funny thing, I would try not to squint when riding for this exact reason. Damn it! I lost that battle.
But you know what, I look at these spots, touch those budding eye wrinkles and I can see hundreds of stories and images behind each one.
What have I done?…oh well, I’d do it over again, in a heartbeat. I just have to be better about applying sunscreen when I go back out…very VERY SOON.
Story time: Kittens, Inner Mongolia, Next Life, and Ringworm.
It was July 31st 2010. I have no photographic proof of this place, it was just one of those moments that a photograph could never explain this experience. I have a snapshot from the road.
This town is, according to my records, is Abag Qi 阿巴嘎旗, Xilin Gol 锡林郭勒盟off Route 101 in Inner Mongolia on the way from Chifeng to the Mongolian/China border.
We stopped here for lunch. We had been making good time against the headwinds of Northern China. I learned that the wind comes down full force after 5 pm and will whack you around until very early dawn.
You can spot these towns in the middle of nowhere, from about 25km away. In Xilin Gol, there is NOTHING. Just a lot of up and down and up and down and up and down. Nothing substantial…slight incline with an unexciting decline with a slight headwind to take ALL the joy out of it. Your still putting in force going down…I hate that.
I’m sure there were growls of hunger in my stomach as I was approaching this town. Usually, at the first sighting of life, if alone, I let out a big ass sigh of relief and murmur something motivational under my breath like, “just a little more” or “you can do it”. But with company, there is usually an exchange of smiles, or a thumbs up, or a pointing into the horizon, and maybe even a “hell’s yeah!”
This town probably got a “Thank god” or “You hungry?” or “We’d better stop”. More than like it was a mixture of all three with the stress on stopping. If you take a look at Google Maps you can see there are very few towns/villages through Xilin Gol. It’s Grasslands, some Desert, and some salt lakes.
Upon approaching, I can see new hotels being built along 101, the typical mid tone smooth grey shell that is ever present in growing China. In the middle of nowhere I see an inkling of life improving, and inkling of hope, a glistening of capitalism and wealth.
Taking a right turn into the city, we are greeted with freshly paved roads, new looking houses, building cranes, and big poster of Deng Xiaoping. Something similar to this
It’s one of those towns where you ride down a big hill to arrive in this little gem of a place.
This place is strange. Very new, clean, pleasant, quiet…I think, this is a little undiscovered wonderful place. It’s very similar looking to a city in the US. There aren’t many people out and (I believe) its Saturday or Sunday afternoon.
Jason tells me to choose the place to eat. I walk in, and in 3 months touring, and a year and a half of living in China, this is the first time “the record skipped” when I walked through the beaded curtain. They love the beaded curtains in the North. I hate beaded curtains because they love to get stuck in your spokes.
The place is packed, people go back to their business and the waitress attempts to speak English to me. She’s high school age and of course absolutely adorable.
I remember the congee was AMAZING!
After a nice hearty, early lunch, we cross the street to sit in the shade in the city square. There is a fountain, flowers, fresh benches with awnings. In the North the mid sun is intense. It’s a dry heat so it’s not so bad but that sun will burn you right up. It’s decided, I will eat some additional snacks of chocolate and ice cream…do a little organizing and repacking and just chill’lax until about 2:30. So we have about 3 more hours until the wind will blow us nearly backwards.
I’ve finished applying sunscreen to my pasty, now extra pasty, body and hear something. A sound that perks my ears up and sharpens my eyes instantaneously! There are 2 old ladies sitting near us talking quietly…it’s not them…I hear it again.
“Jason, do you hear THAT!?!?”
“What?”
I look ahead and see a group of 3 boys near the fountain. The fountain is filled with water…they are doing something in the water. Laughing, pointing, pushing one another to look at something. They pull something out and set it down….
I hear the most painful and heart breaking “meeww meewww meewwww meewww….” not even a “meow” but little painful chirps.
The boys…I know boys will be boys…especially 5-7 year old boys with nothing better to do…
Standing up with more purpose than I have felt in awhile, I walk over and see a black kitten the size of my fist wobbling along the edge of the fountain…SOAKING WET. The boys look at me, grinning, point to the kitten and say “Cat”.
My hands go right on my hips and comes out “What are you doing?! Cat’s don’t like water, you shouldn’t be doing this. Where are your mothers?” The grins turn to a horizontal line and they know from my tone I am not pleased. Now, in Chinese, “cats don’t like water, don’t do this”. I don’t know what to do…I can’t grab it and take it with me. If I returned with a kitten to where Jason was sitting he would not be happy with my choice. What would we do with it.
I have to turn away and walk, furiously, with tears building up in my eyes. “They are torturing a kitten over there”. I sit there, watching them lift her back up and dunk her in the water. I count the seconds before I hear her cry again. It’s too long. They are pushing her to her limits. I can’t do this…”Jason, we have to leave, I can’t do this.”
(If I had been alone, by myself…I PROBABLY would of taken her with me. Either I would of gone back to the restaurant to ask for help from the waitress or I would of gotten on my bike, rode up to them, snatched the kitten and ride off as fast as possible. After that, maybe find a lu dian to feed and dry her and just let her go on her way.)
A man approaches to tell them to leave. Jason goes up to the man and explains what they are doing. The man explains he knows they are evil kids but it’s out of his control because he isn’t not their father. Two boys pack the kitten up in a shoe box and walk across the street with their arms around each other, like long time cronies.
I can hear the crying.
We ride away and I see the boys hiding behind a SUV snickering as I ride by and I slow down to scream “you are NAUGHTY NAUGHTY LITTLE BOYS!!!!”
The crying rings through my head for hours.
A headwind from hell…or rather, North.
We can’t ride much more during the day. I’m getting sun burned with my poor choice in a sleeveless jersey and not enough sunscreen.
Camp.
My reasoning for camping next to power lines is because too many motorcycles ride through the Grasslands, all willy nilly, or maybe worst, a jeep. I figure a telephone pole will prevent me from getting accidentally flattened once the sun sets.
It’s a predictable cold and windy night. As I fall asleep I wonder about that kitten.
When I wake…the first thought…”I hope she died”. No more torture.
3 Weeks ago, my bike love has been replaced with Laoshu. She found us with missing patches of hair, snotty nose, and mucous from her eyes. At night, curled up around my neck or on my pillow, she would sneeze and cough. Always little snot bubbles from her nose when she would wake up (she’s sleeping in a box right now that contains steel for bike building). I nursed her with antibiotics and we bathed her once a week. I’m nursing my ringworm away.
The pharmacist here has not seen something like this and we were awarded with a tube of Herpes medicine. Nothing like pure strength bleach to knock out the 7 ringworm patches I have.
Laoshu may be her name for now, but I want to name her “Abag Qi”. She especially loves having her paws rubbed and played with. I swear they have more webbing than other cats, I bet she can swim too!
When I was lounging on the couch with her one night, I looked into her eyes, and I KNOW I wanted to save her 4 months ago. It sounds silly and all new age and stuff…but this kitten…we’ve crossed paths before. She follows me where ever I walk, with me accidentally kicking her, sleeping on my lap whenever she gets a chance.
Her balance isn’t too good…but her fur has grown back, her sickness has disappeared, and she gets crazier than I have ever seen a kitten. She’ll take a ribbon and run up and down the hall with it. I can’t figure out if she’s cat, monkey, puppy, horse, mouse…I thought she looked a little hyena when I first met her.
老鼠爱大米
我听见你的声音
有种特别的感觉
让我不断想不敢再忘记你
我记得有一个人
永远留在我心中
哪怕只能够这样的想你
如果真的有一天
爱情理想会实现
我会加倍努力好好对你永远不改变
不管路有多么远
一定会让它实现
我会轻轻在你耳边对你说(对你说)
我爱你爱着你
就像老鼠爱大米
不管有多少风雨我都会依然陪着你
我想你想着你
不管有多么的苦
只要能让你开心我什么都愿意
这样爱你
我听见你的声音
有种特别的感觉
让我不断想不敢再忘记你
我记得有一个人
永远留在我心中
哪怕只能够这样的想你
如果真的有一天
爱情理想会实现
我会加倍努力好好对你永远不改变
不管路有多么远
一定会让它实现
我会轻轻在你耳边对你说(对你说)
我爱你爱着你
就像老鼠爱大米
不管有多少风雨我都会依然陪着你
我想你想着你
不管有多么的苦
只要能让你开心我什么都愿意
这样爱你
我爱你爱着你
就像老鼠爱大米
不管有多少风雨我都会依然陪着你
我想你想着你
不管有多么的苦
只要能让你开心我什么都愿意
这样爱你
Dream
I had a strange dream the other night.
I was living somewhere in Asia, in a shack, along the coast. For some reason I had moved all my possessions there – everything from photographs to important documents. Yeah, I know, crazy! I would never do that.
This tsunami wave comes in and wipes out the entire coast line. My hut was on the beach so everything was taken back out to sea with it. My neighbor, who’s home was deep inside a cave was able to hold onto most of his stuff.
I was so upset to lose photographs, as they can never be replaced. Although, my camera was still with me, as I had it in a bag on me when the wave came in. Of course, it makes no sense that the wave only emptied out my home and not demolish the home.
When I went inside to see if anything had been left, I was crushed when I looked against the back wall and my Saga was gone. My panniers had been still on her, fully loaded. I was crushed. Absolutely crushed. I thought, “I’ll never be able to continue on….”
Sometimes I still get butterflies in my stomach when thinking about hopping back on the saddle and continuing. I question if it’s still necessary, and after knowing the dangers…do I have the balls to go back at it.
Yeah. I do…I’m a pacifist but I will kill those butterflies.