We know our chances of getting back to Kunming on this death trap are very, very slim indeed. But six days on the road, scaling mountains and defying snow storms has germinated a combination of hubris and rash boyishness. The plan is to make it back to Kunming in three days, with a first leg to Xiangcheng or even Shangri-La, then Dali and finally Kunming. If the motorbike survives, the cost of the bike, the express courier and the lodging would be less than the two of us taking public transport back home. Plus it would be a lot more fun.

Contraption of doom
Contraption of doom

We put on a total of 8 layers of clothes against the cold, deliver our bicycles and luggage to STO Express, and elicit a couple of laughs from bystanders as an unintended wheelie nearly launches our motorbike into a flock of SWAT police. Upon regaining control, we make an elegant exit out of town and ride towards the sun that is slowly rising over the Litang plain.

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Although we went to bed relatively early and only had a little to drink before we did, we don’t manage to wake up early. A few unfortunate workers who had shambled in the night before because their motorbike broke down on the mountain strike up a short conversation before leaving. They’re going to catch the only bus to Shangri-La and attempt to get home from there. It’s well past 10 am when we finish a breakfast of instant oatmeal, Dali bars and instant coffee while talking to Dan (who was so nice to replace my broken Camelbak valve with a spare that he’d brought).

Dilapidated Tibetan house
Dilapidated Tibetan house

The morning sun sees us off on a good start through the gorge, a pleasant false flat along a tranquil blue river and rustic scenery. Tibetan architecture is now prevalent, houses interspersed with huge wooden racks on which highland barley, a main staple of the region, is drying. Along with Tibetan architecture come the ubiquitous prayer flags, of which we learn that they’re strung in windy places so the wind can read up the prayers written on the flags. Saves the Tibetans some time to concentrate on what really matters while not neglecting their religious duties. We come across more such spiritual efficiency on a small side stream. A small cabin with a turbine sticking out of its bottom is driven by the water. Where in most areas in Yunnan you’d find a milling stone attached for grinding wheat, these Tibetan folk have connected a prayer wheel to it.

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Tensions in the South China Sea mount over an oil rig in disputed waters. Recent enforcement of territorial claims are likely to disturb peace and stability in the region, cause domestic trouble in Vietnam, and sour China’s relations with ASEAN members and the US.

On 14 May 2014, Vietnamese protesters vented their anger at China’s claims to contended territorial waters and its recent enforcement of those claims by defending the construction of a Chinese oil rig (the Haiyang Shiyou 981), destined to drill a mere 120 km off Vietnam’s shore. Over 20,000 rioters vandalised factories in Binh Duong province, Vietnam’s industrial heartland just outside Ho Chi Minh City. The mob attacked anything with Chinese script on it, but ended up also damaging many Taiwanese and Korean properties. Several Chinese workers were killed in the tumult, up to 21 according to some sources. Chinese citizens react outraged.

All anti-Vietnamese protesters in Kunming
All of the anti-Vietnamese protesters in Kunming on 18 May

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We wake to the sound of a dozen Chinese voices preparing for the big ride. Some of them have rolled in at 10 last night but are the first to get up. At their rate, they’ll need it. Only the Hunan group is still around when we finally make it down the stairs. Of our plans to get up at the crack of dawn is not much left.

We put our sweaty and dirty riding gear back on, wipe the sleep grime off our faces and stumble into the kitchen where we’re supposed to get breakfast. And breakfast there is: the owner’s lovely wife (who could really be his daughter) serves us two large helpings of noodles and wraps up a large, freshly-baked baba (a dry wheat cake) for our trip. The neighbouring shop complements our supplies with some drinks and a smile wide enough to allow a small truck to pass.

Pete enjoying breakfast in the inn's kitchen
Pete enjoying breakfast in the inn’s kitchen

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Having rested for a full day, we make another early start into what is now really unknown terrain. A cartload of steamed buns (包子 baozi) and soy sauce eggs (卤蛋 ludan) fill our stomachs and what doesn’t fit goes into a lunch bag. Skies are clear, air is crisp, perfect day for a bike ride.

Leaving Shangri-La in the morning
Leaving Shangri-La in the morning

As we’re climbing out of the messy outskirts of Shangri-La, we’re accompanied by a cloud of ominous buzzards, lazily circling above our heads. Traffic’s relatively busy and we’re hoping to hit the actual old road to Deqin soon. We’re not too sure whether it still exists. On one hand, constructing a new second-class road requires making much more level roads, an ice-free surface and there are certain requirements as to how sharp curves are allowed to be. (more…)

We’d had a rest day at Baishuitai to explore the terraces and the forest around it further because it was so pretty. It also allowed us to get a good night’s rest and to leave early on what was supposed to be one of the hardest rides of this trip.

Leaving the hotel at 8am
Leaving the hotel at 8am

No surprises for me this time. I had ridden the murderous 131km from Haba to Shangri-La in one day before and I had literally fallen asleep on the bicycle from exhaustion and altitude. And that was after 4 months of continuous biking. With a lot fewer kilometres in our legs this time, I thought it wiser to cut the distance by 30km by staying in Baishuitai instead of Haba, and also to leave early enough. By 8am we’re on the road.

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After a night in the smoky torture chamber next to the Mahjong-loving photographer crew from Henan, we’re feeling surprisingly fresh. The sun’s out and it promises to be a lovely day. Whatever remains of our headache and grudge towards the rowdy neighbours is quickly fixed by a large bowl of noodles. We get the owner to boil us some eggs for the road and will rely on Dali bars 达力粑 for the rest of the day.

'morning!
‘morning!

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At 7:30am, we disembark the stuffy train and breathe the crisp Lijiang air. Ahead of us looms the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, Lijiang’s undisputed landmark which attracts gazillions of tourists to its much over-hyped new-old town. Yet behind the city walls, adventure lies in ambush. We’re stoked to surprise it right where it expects us.

Leaving the station
Leaving the station

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In the aftermath of the attack on the Kunming train station, in which official sources say at least 29 people lost their lives and 143 were injured, I went to sniff around the city for stories and reactions. People are stoic, supportive of their fellow citizens and seem to steer clear of any racial violence.

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Memorials at Kunming station

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On Saturday night, a group of men stormed Kunming’s train station. Slashing unsuspecting passengers with long knives, they left 29 dead and 130 severely wounded. Several people hold Uighur Muslims responsible for the attack, causing xenophobia to rise.

Police cordoning off the station after the killing (photo: Xinhuanet.com)
Bloody mess in the ticket hall (photo: Xinhuanet.com)

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