Gong Jianping is feeling a little better. No headache, just a bad stomach. He says he wants to ride. By now we're sure that Brice's headache wasn't AMS. And if it were AMS, he's acclimated now because the headache is gone. That means this morning we roll. Still, it is so cold up here, and we were subjected to so much rain yesterday, that both Brice and I have chest colds. We keep hacking up bright colored stuff.
The transition from rest to cycling is harsh. Everything must be tightly packed and stowed away. Cannot afford to leave something behind out of carelessness. Everything we have has been vetted thoroughly; we are merciless in our quest for light weight. So if we’ve brought it, it is probably quite critical for the trip. One leaves the warmth of shelter -- be it a tent or something more stable. All the gear has to be loaded onto the cycle and meticulously fastened down and sturdied. It will need to travel 50-100 kilometres or more without complaint.
Then straddling the rig the body is upright, legs at work once again. For twelve or more hours the body has been at rest. Soon there will be constant exertion.
The ride starts out innocently. There is some downhill and mild but indeterminate weather. The clouds look ready to threaten; they haven't made up their mind yet. They are on all sides of us, as is usually the case, at least in this season. It's cold when the sun is obscured, as it now is. Still, we are most comfortable cycling in the least amount of garments which can stand up to the weather: cycling pants, polypropylene top and Gore-Tex jacket. If the sun's out the pants and at least polypro stay on -- they protect us from sunburn.
By noon the weather looks to have made up its mind: it is going to fight us.
Today's ride traverses an expansive flatland. This land is one big plateau, occasionally wrinkled by mountain chains and river valleys. We can see mountains -- Kunluns behind us and perhaps the Fenghuo mountains ahead -- but they are very far away. We are cycling in a very wide, flat bowl between these.
On the horizon ahead dark storm clouds sweep from ground to sky, they are precipitating something. There is a group of them on the left and a group on the right and a band of relative tranquillity between. Maybe that's our window. Behind, there are black clouds and surely worse weather. It's impossible to predict what will happen because in fact there are not one but four weather systems. The wind at ground level might be blowing west-east but some clouds overhead are doing the opposite. A layer of clouds above that is going yet another direction. Or the clouds far ahead might be moving away from us but ones closer in are moving towards us.
All we can do is put our heads down and face what comes. The guys are somewhere behind us and the weather is not going to let us factor them into our planning; we'll have to wait 'till later to reunite.
As we proceed it is clear that we're going to get clobbered by these black clouds, which were once on the horizon but are now right on us. It's going to be a head-on collision.
The wind kicks up and begins to douse us with rain. We keep moving. There is thunder. It starts softly enough but soon it's loud and seems to taunt us. We see the lightening; most of it is from cloud to cloud. But wouldn't it love to find some object on the ground to strike? We are the highest things around -- the road itself is built up several meters over the land surface, perhaps to withstand flash floods. There is nothing on the road but us.
Things clear and, mercifully, Wudaoliang comes into view.
Reaching Wudaoliang, a couple of PLA compounds refuse us entry so we go to a very shoddy looking ‘dao ban’, or road crew compound. They are spread out about every 30 kilometers and we often call in at them. Some dao ban's are better than others and this one is bad. But it's shelter and a bed. Our companions, who've now reached the town, prefer it to camping out. I guess we do, too.
The upside is that there is a Sichuanese restaurant close by and we're overdue for a good feeding. We haven't had a good feed since Xidatan.
Inside we chat with the chef about what to make, picking out a few vegetables on hand and some pork. He puts these in a wok, sets this on a ledge and blow torches the hell out of it. The food is delicious.
We are now in reach of the route's second substantial pass: Fenghuo ("Wind and Fire Mountains"). It will be over 16,000 feet, higher than Kunlun Pass. But since Kunlun was such a joke, we are not intimidated by Fenghuo (pronounced "feng-hoo-oh").