I was close to giving up on Yunnan. Of course there are plenty of beautiful landscapes and a plethora of interesting and different folks and minorities.
At Dali, I was feeling a little, well…I’m not sure how to put it in words – in retrospect. Feeling a little hopeless perhaps. I learned during Part I, to not expect anything wonderful or life changing…to just go with it.
I was pretty set on not going into “Old Town” Dali but had weighed the options of going to the East of the Lake. As the LP suggests it’s a nice scenic route. BUT, I learned awhile ago to not follow anything of the LP guides. They are good for the maps and getting around the cities and using it as a guide of NOT where to go…if you really want to get off that beaten path.
A circuit around the lake sounded a little tempting as well but I was a little burned out on the tourism and I wasn’t even in the touristy part. This is what I usually say about tourist traps, “jiade”. As I write this I am in Old Town Lijiang, which is quite nice right now…but it’s coming up on a holiday weekend.
I noticed there was a provincial road about 100km West of the lake that ran nearly all the way to Lijiang. At Dali, I decided to buck up and go for it.
Little did I know…I was about to embark on a magical mystery tour (pun completely intended).
I don’t know if it’s even worth writing about, but I do have photos. *Photos, they are not posted until submitted to the US Copyright office. Sorry folks.
If you ever taken a couple of minutes with a road atlas of China, you will find these tiny tiny squiggly lines (brown, grey, some neutral tone). From Dali I had decided to take a route all the way to Lijiang. I took note if there were towns, rather than villages that usually don’t have “zhusu”.
And am I ever happy I did.
I was riding about 100km West of the ErHu Lake and it felt as if I was in a world all to my own.
The first town, for 30rmb, I had a mansion of a newly renovated luguan. It was a pleasant rest after the horrid room I was in Dali.
The second town, for 40rmb, not so good BUT when I went out to look around and photograph. It was an authentic “old town”…where people were living in the homes rather than selling “jiade” jewelry or shawls. I ran into an older man and he was telling me about the town. Then we came upon a group of women seniors. He told me to take their photos, I asked, “zhende ma”? REALLY?!?! They were so friendly, allowed me to take their photos and then thanked me!!! What?! That’s unheard of in the cities.
Later, as the sun was setting a farmer with a sickle over his shoulder approached me. I could smell the alcohol and started shouting in my face of how I am a laowei. I reassured him I knew this and fortunately a townsman told him to leave me alone. I scurried home.
Left the next day a little before noon.
The third day, I was cycling a mountain and at the peak I see a little girl and some activity. I slow down prepared to investigate. It’s a gramma, her daughter, and 2 little filthy girls (about 4 and 6). The tiniest is holding a miniature axe. They are herding goats, cows, and my favorite…heifers and their piglets. I had seen this the previous day and had photographed a woman (in minority dress) herding her piglets along the road.
I smiled to gramma and told her how cute they were. She smiled and jumped into the wooded area to herd the piggies. I’m photographing the piglets first and then I move to the people…a smooth gradual, unobvious transition. I capture 2 images of gramma standing in the woods, looking straight into the camera!!! (I can’t even look at the file on my camera for 2 days because of excitement).
After this amazing day I land in a “brown town frown”. I was planning on staying in another town but it was a tourist trap (100rmb/room). I gave myself a sponge bath at brown town. Again, I call them brown town frowns because it’s basically a town that’s a hub for trucks. My luguan was fortunately next to a tire repair place. So I got to hear that all night.
I have to ride Route 214 for about 10km to the next “city”. I debate on staying there but it’s just a nasty city that has nothing to offer. I know I have a hell of a mountain ahead of me for the day. I eat breakfast and load up on food in preparation for camp. (214 is the major thoroughfare from Dali and after riding it for 10km I’m so glad I didn’t…horrid horrid road). It’s such a buzzkill to be descending a mountain and land in these nasty places.
There is a little squiggly line on the map representing my route but my GPS shows it more like this wwwWWWWwwwwww————WWwwwwWWWWWWw
The sun is blazing and I’m on a road about 2.5 meters wide. I’m going up this mountain and there is nothing around except the signs of strip mining. At about 18km I run through my first village. Nothing much…I keep going…up.
Finally, I reach the plateau at approximately 28km and the weather is cool and there are trees, unlike the rocks I’ve seen on my way up. On my way up, I’m thinking to myself that this is going to be a useless and uneventful day. Oh I was so wrong!
It’s nearing 3pm and it appears as if I’ll be coasting along the plateau for a little while then descending. That’s usually how it works. Climb, plateau, and descend. I’ve climbed 1300m up and I decided to stop for something to drink at the local village market. I decide a tepid bottle of Pepsi.
Before going to the shop, I had heard some human voices…but couldn’t find anything. When I sit down to drink my Pepsi I see across the road…villagers building a mud barn/house. Holy cow! I think they see me and I can see just a few. I ask laoban if I can go over and take a look.
Yes
Grab my camera and go.
I walk through a little path and enter a backyard and I’ve never heard a needle scratch a record like this before. I had nearly 30 faces staring at me…I was equally astonished at them! What amazing work, I say “lihai”. There are a few kids, about 20 women, and about 6 men.
The women are in minority dress and I can’t understand a word they say. From their gestures they comment on how large my eyes are. They tell me to sit down and rest.
I’m watching them as much as they watch me. I pull the camera out and this is when the jokester of the ladies begins a special relationship with me. She tells me I can’t photograph her because she has too many lines in her face. I tell her I do too and it’s nothing, I jump off the porch and shove my face in hers. We all laugh.
Able to snap a few photos, and I rest my camera on my lap and I’m shooting secretly. I know I have nearly 30 sets of eyes on me and I don’t want to get kicked out.
The women dig, fill their baskets with dirt, climb up the ladder, where someone is waiting, they take the basket dump the dirt on top of the frame and throw the basket down where when the woman climbs down the ladder she picks it up and returns to the digging.
A small group tells me to come over and put on the basket to carry the dirt. I walk over with a smile and they say, “no no no” but then get invited to help pack down the dirt. So I climb up the ladder to about 15’ and they hand me the pounding stick.
I can’t believe what is happening to me. Is this really happening? The jokester lady keeps looking at me. After a little while they tell me to get down because the sun has come out and I’m not covering my skin like the others.
Then there is break time. We sit on the porch of laoban’s house, who they are building the barn for. There are large metal bowls filled with deep fried bread in the shape of triangles. I can dip them in sugar or peppers. The women drink hot water with sugar. I’ve seen this before…I now know this is a very poor village.
The jokester woman commented on how large my legs were and she compared her calves to mine. Then she kept shoving a bread in my face, dangling off of a chopstick. She told me I had to eat 7 because she eats 5 and I am so much bigger. At 6 I tell her I just can’t anymore…absolutely no more.
I’m listening to them talk and can’t understand anything. Some of the men can speak Putonghua, usually, my assumption, is that the men get sent to school more than the women.
After about an hour and a half I say I have to leave. Jokester asks me to stay and rest. How the heck do I handle this? I know I’m on top of a mountain and there are no “zhusu” places until I the next town. I tell them I can’t because I can’t ride at night. I’m so disappointed to leave.
As I begin the descent, I see a mother and daughter climbing out of field and the daughter is smiling at me. I say “hello” and they both greet me with a smile and wave. It’s beautiful up here. I don’t want to leave.
Down the mountain is massive strip mining, loose gravel everywhere. If I had attempted to ride past sunset I would have been in for some terrible surprises. I was able to pass the massive trucks carrying rocks. I land in another typical small city right before sunset.
I wake up, almost…ALMOST…going back to the top of the mountain. A part of me was afraid of ruining my welcome, another part was afraid of never leaving.
I will arrive in Lijiang that day instead. All back roads except for about 2km up a mountain sucking up black exhaust from the trucks. I’ve hit my physical limit and I’m walking the bike at one point. I didn’t realize I was so close to crashing.
The last 10km to Lijiang aren’t even on the map but my GPS picked it up. It was a single lane, mud packed, pot holed village road. It took me an hour to get through. It took me another hour to find my hostel in Lijiang old village….where I’ve been held up because of the rain for 4 days.
My Ortlieb bar bag arrived here 2 days ago and I snapped a tightening mechanism attaching the mount. Now rendered useless.
Please check back in 4 months for photos.
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