Photography
Orchard Camp
Two nights before arriving to Kashgar, my first orchard camp. This is my proof to Matt and Lucas, of North East South West by Bike that I don’t sleep under roads and bridges…and train tracks EVERY NIGHT.
The three of us will be leaving Kashgar on Saturday morning and riding to Osh, Kyrgyzstan together. The border crossing is closed on weekends so we should arrive Monday morning.
We are a little worried of the weather, as it was snowing and raining here this morning.
Arrival to Kashgar
Last 50km into Kashgar was fantastic, hundreds of donkey carts, horses, and of course, the few camels. You can see these majestic beasts a half a kilometer away, their hair swaying back and forth.
Uyghur Henna Stain
Like the fingerless riding glove tan?
And yes, I’m married in Muslim country.
Cultural Chameleon, thanks Danny P. for that!
Remember the dead
Side note: One reason the Han have issues with the minorities of China is because the government grants them “special permission”. It is illegal for “Chinese”/Han to bury their dead (because of the high population). There are other examples, such as more than one child without a financial penalty or students are given points on their college entrance exam depending on their minority group. This frustrates many “Chinese”/Han and they view it as unfair.
The last day of tarmac, U-Tsang, Tibet September 2011
Little did I know that it would be the last of tarmac about 3km down, and another quarter of kilometer…I would also lose my partner.
That is Namucuo (Namu Lake) in the background.
The previous night, we had camped in a yak field with a rolling stream and a couple of nomad families. Brandon and I had snuck past a major police checkpoint.
When we were checking out the situation, and scoping out the police checkpoint, a Tibetan boy had approached Brandon when he was peeking from around a corner. He was getting frustrated with the Tibetan because he was blowing his cover.
They both walk to where I’m hiding, the Tibetan is very modern. Wearing his mesh back trucker hat, face mask, his sunscreen leaving a white film on his face, and I SWEAR he was wearing eyeliner.
Brandon: “Ask him if he’s ever seen other foreigners…”
Tibetan: “Yes.”
Me: “Have you seen them with bikes?”
Tibetan: “Yes.” He points past the checkpoint up a hill and says, “If you go up that way they won’t see you.”
I translate to Brandon…we both smirk at each other, both knowing that this guy may “know whats up”.
It would be our last camp together. Brandon made an interesting noodle mix with the fried sardines with black beans. I would sit next to him, at his tent opening, smoking a cigarette each…staring at the stars. Even after our little snips at one another during the day, we had an enjoyable conversation to finish the day.
The next day, morning…he said something snarky about the colors of my clothes and how they don’t camouflage very well. I didn’t respond. Then he challenges me on my opinion on the “Thai” guy I had seen in Qinghai pedaling North. I respond under my breath, enough to let him know I’m tired of his bad attitude.
(Note to cycling apparel companies: COULD YOU PLEASE PLEASE QUIT MAKING WOMEN’S CLOTHES IN PURPLES, PINKS, TURQUOISES…really, seriously!!!!)
I head out 30 mins before him and find a crossing over the stream. Looking back, I watch him removing his bags and throwing them over the water. I can see his blood boiling and steam coming from his ears.
We spend our mornings separate, with separate Tibetan nomads. I am given a radish to eat on the road.
Brandon holds onto a truck and is pulled up the pass. It takes me 3 hours. At one point, I’m walking and this little girl comes running up to me.
I help her up on my saddle and I’m pushing the bike as she is “riding’. It surely made my load heavier…but we had a really good time for about 10 minutes. When she was ready to get off, she let me know…we said our goodbyes and she returned to her tent. I could hear her exclaiming something inside.
We are both aggravated by the time we BOTH are at the peak. Things are just falling apart…and there is a final explosion. Leaving me slumped over in a yak field, crying, perhaps…maybe…a little hysterical. I think I shout every curse word that I could come up with under my tears.
I would receive an apology text a couple hours later.
Yaxi, my Tibetan “little brother”.
I had arrived in Xiangcheng, Kham (Southwestern Sichuan) and was looking for a cheap place to stay. Repeatedly getting turned away because I was a foreigner. I had expected this as the city has a massive amount of police.
Walking down an alley, to check out a possible place, to check out a Tibetan hotel, Yaxi caught my eye but I turned away because my first impression was of beauty yet complete intimidation. He was also standing outside a gambling/arcade (he actually works there).
He tried to get my attention but I refused because I have my “rules”.
Running behind, he caught up with me and I couldn’t refuse talking. I stumble over my Chinese because I’m completely caught off guard.
We make the brief introductions, where I’m from, what I’m doing, and what I need. Yaxi, you are gorgeous.
From my photos, you would think that all Tibetans walk around in their traditional dress…but there is also the modern, city, Tibetans. Yaxi is a year younger than I.
He insists on pushing my bike for me. Chivalry is not dead among the Tibetans. We try 3 different hotels, continually getting turned away.
Pushing up a hill he looks at me and says, “you can stay at my home”…I stammer and reassures me his “wife” is at home through his beautiful and gentle smile.
To make this story a little shorter, I ended up spending 6 days there with them. I had lost my eyeglasses a few km back and was walking around with sunglasses at night. They did find a motorcycle and his wife drove me to the edge of town a few days later where I found my crushed eyeglasses…with one lens. I would live without eyeglasses for 14 days.
They were the most pleasant hosts and I didn’t spend a cent. We took walks, visited the temple, spent nearly every moment together. I would hang out at the gambling joint. Man, those Tibetans like to gamble!
One afternoon, out on the stoop, where this photo was taken…there was a very heated debate for an hour or so about “The D.L.”. Yaxi and his wife ARE Tibetans from Qinghai and they had workmates that were Han. There was screaming and shouting…when the Tibetans walked through the alley, they would either run quickly by or stand back listening to the conversation. I was hiding in the shadow behind the door, keeping a look out for police.
Yaxi and his wife look at me…I understood most of this conversation…and they look at me in sincerity and ask me in Chinese…”what do you think”? I sink into my chair and I say, “I’m an American…YOU KNOW what I think.” This is enough for them.
Last week I spoke to Yaxi on the phone briefly, he can not speak English. We ended up communicating more via text message. He is currently at his home in Kangding. He wants me to return to spend more time with him and his family. We briefly discussed the current situation and we both agree that I “can’t” come right now because it’s “very very very bad”, “but after”…”after” what I ponder.
Yaxi reassured me and that he and his family are okay, as I worry of him. Yaxi, my little brother…my thoughts are with you, your family, and all the Tibetans. “meiguoren he xizangren pengyou”
Tibetan Sisters, Nima Tibet 2011
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Tashi Delay! and please be sure to keep up with what is happening in this part of the world.
December 7 2011 – Fukang to Nowhere (10hrs of riding for 20km West)
Highpoint: Not falling in the icy river as I bash my triple outer ring against rocks and upon moving it off seeing remainders of the aluminum glittering on the rock (will file 2 teeth upon arrival to Urumqi).
Lowpoint: Pushing the bike up a 10km iced/snow pass to a dead end – oops! Wrong way! Then another 10 back (slipping) down.
Tomorrow’s Banana: Arriving in Urumqi (Although I should of arrived today.)
The weather is mild in the beginning and I decide to take a small back road to Urumqi…heading South and over some mountains. There is a disconnect on the map, but come on…I’m sure there is some way to get there. Right?
It’s a steady uphill ride along closed mountain vacation spots. If you saw the video I posted a few weeks back of the “Xinjiang Traffic Jam” of the shepherd and his flock – this was the day.
Weather begins to turn as I climb and around 3ish I’ve lost all blue skies and everything is freezing.
That was the last town I pass and the road ends at a drying up river. Well, it’s a river bed with about 2 dozen different water flow paths. I can see the road on the other side so I try to pass by jumping from rock to rock. If I fall in, I’m F*&ked…SERIOUSLY.
WHAM!!! The outer crank wheel collides onto a stone. As I’m balancing on stones, trying to get the bike…shit, I don’t even know what I was doing…just not trying to fall over into the freezing water. I made it out about 5 meters before I just realized this was completely stupid.
I back track…there has got to be a road. Earlier I had seen a cowboy cross the river on his horse and a motorcycle. Going back to there I find a little path to get me across.
Riding Kham and U-Tsang trained me really well at crossing streams, rivers and glacier melt. The first time I tried crossing water, those frozen feet taught me never to just STOP ever again. If the weather is nice and I’m concerned about the photo gear…I’ll take the shoes and socks off to cross.
After crossing and looking back.
This is the point where I’m starting to question where I am. Maps and compass and I’m still having some doubts. I should of asked the people in the town BEFORE crossing the water. Whatever, I’ll keep going on.
The ridge on the other side is speckled with homes and there is a part of me that thinks I should of not crossed the river bed. I’m not sure why I do this but I’m pretty sure I convinced myself that this way would get me to where I’m going.
Ok. Very little tracks in the road. Some villages and homes. Some shepherds. This bike is getting pushed through this range. All 10km or so of it!
I keep looking to right and see the villages on the other side on the ridge. I’m going deeper and deeper and pass another village.
Ending up on the side of a mountain with not a lot of hope ahead, I walk 3km without the bike and just a compass to figure out what the hell is going on. This newly dug up road is not taking me SW.
Try the other road 1 km back. I end up in a little valley and I know for sure this is wrong, there is no way to continue on. I go back to the last village.
I see two men and I remove my glasses and hat and let them know I’m a foreigner. They show me where I am. I have to return to the village on the other side of the water. I’m on the wrong side! (Ha! Ironic when I just wrote a post about never doubt a babe’s navigation/map reading skills. Well, this time I goofed!)
Down the mountain I’m slipping all over the place and nearly land flat on my butt a couple of times.
Damn you water…I have to cross AGAIN!
It’s near 5:30 and I only have about 2 hours MAX of daylight. There is no where to stay here and it’s freezing. I would freeze to death up here…I have to get somewhere so as soon as I get back across the water it’s a race to somewhere.
I talk to a Kazakh man at the village about where I’m going and where I’m coming from. Explaining I want that small road to Urumqi. He tells me the road is too difficult and long and that I need to return to Fukang. He points to the ridge when talking about the small road I’m looking for. Sure…okay…I’m NOT returning to Fukang and ride back up the hill to look for the small road.
With my luck…I see an empty coal truck come along and he takes these tire tracks that I would of NEVER seen if he hadn’t came along. There comes another truck and he takes the same route.
WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS…FOLLOW THE COAL TRUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am racing light now…as I follow the tracks behind the empty coal trucks.
After a few km I’m on a “road”? Let me just say, imagine what a road would be like in the mountains that only coal trucks take…there, that’s the description.
It’s getting cold and dark…and colder. I’m starting to worry and look for somewhere to set up camp. Not just out, but abandoned buildings or hideaways under the road.
It’s all coal mining out here and I begin to go down the pass at sunset. I pass a coal mine with little concrete, abandoned, building across the road. Shit! Someone sees me and is watching. I want to set up camp in that building but it’s not going to work. The empty coal trucks go to the west, I see loaded trucks coming towards me. Continue to follow the loaded coal trucks.
It’s dark and I’m going down a nasty road. Bouncing everywhere, skidding in loose stones, avoiding the ditches and trenches. Hands are frozen and feet are freezing.
This goes on for a couple of hours, it’s pitch black.
Around 9:30, after about 2 hours in the dark…I hit tarmac. Relief. I have no idea where I am or what way to go. I’m at a fork. Which way shall I go. There is traffic coming from the North…okay…I guess this is the way I go.
EVERYTHING is frozen on my bike. I have to take extra care…she whines every time I touch the brakes and luckily my chosen route is down down down. Smooth tarmac and shading my eyes every time a car passes to keep my shitty night vision.
Around 10:30 I arrive to a little side of the highway stop…thank god. I ask a shop keeper about zhusu and she directs me. Find a nice quaint and warm place on the second floor. We lock my bike up on the first floor that has a massive pot-belly coal burning stove. My poor bike is so frozen and is crying to me for a cleaning.
I really really thought I was going to freeze tonight. Honestly. It goes down as one of the top 10 worst rides. 1-Cold 2-Lost 3-Dark 4-Frozen Bike 5-Anticipated hitting Urumqi to only take a long way around to get a very short distance from Fukang. I only got 20km West of my morning starting point…after riding in the mountains for over 10 hours! Idiot!!!!!! Masochist!!!!!!!!!!!
Scarf down noodles downstairs while the little boy practices his English along with a video on the tv.
Yeah, I was kind of worried about losing my fingers tonight. I still have all 10…because, well, if I lose one or two…how will I transmit my stories!!!!!
Waking up in the middle night soaking in sweat, wiping it from the back of my neck than I get down to my undies. Which, obviously I wasn’t thinking straight because that is a big no no in these types of places. Gross. Someone send me a home TB test!
