Wet feet on the Nujiang - Staying Ahead? - CycleBlaze

Wet feet on the Nujiang

02/05/2017

Fantastic ride

Now that is the way to start a tour. Getting out of Baoshan was very simple, getting started - not so easy. I thought I was prepared, but nah, I guess I still had a lot to do in the morning. I also think I may have been procrastinating just a bit. I didn’t get to the outskirts of Baoshan until about 1100 and even for me that is a late start. I had about 10 km of relative flat ground and then started the climb. It went surprisingly well. I had only one minor incident with a nong coming from the opposite direction who thought he would pass with oncoming traffic - that would be me!! He was a truck, so I couldn’t really force the issue and I couldn’t bail into the shoulder because I was up against the rock bank with a three foot deep concrete ditch. That was exciting…

At the summit I stopped off at a small family run eatery. Everyone, guests and owners, were quite surprised to see me roll up and even more surprised when I asked if I could have a meal. The two young daughters and I conversed via our respective translation apps while mum made me a plate of fried rice. I suspected that the eldest girl could speak some English but was hesitant to give it a go. When I finished and tried to pay, in English, she told me that the meal was on the house and that it was an honour to have me as their guest. It is hard to believe, but apparently I was the first westerner to eat there. Selfies followed and dad and the two girls waved me off from the front of the shop.  

Totally unexpected and so genuinely kind.
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That was at about km 18 and the rest of the 45 km was almost all downhill. Once I got off the 320 and onto the back road shortcut to the Nujiang, I began to realise that it was no longer a simple back country road. What gave it away was the pristine concrete road surface and the occasional fancy new car zipping along it. But it was still a magnificent ride down into the Nujiang valley. I needn’t have worried about finding the bridge. There is a big brand new concrete bridge spanning the river and a very big tunnel that burrows through a hill to get there. And the tunnel was surprisingly safe and easy to negotiate - and it was downhill, too. You exit the tunnel straight onto the bridge over the Nujiang - fantastic.!

I had tapped out the 65 km to the river in about 4 hours, including the hill. That is very good time for me. I initially thought I’d try stealth camping under the old bridge, but that has been boarded up and I didn't want to try hoisting the bike across it. As I type this, I’m hiding out behind the barricade of the old bridge, waiting for darkness to fall before I return to the beach under the new bridge. I took a long break there and watched as too many unsavory young guys on motorbikes hung around looking for something to do. I’ll return under the cover of darkness and hope that they have all gone home. I’m afraid my stealth camping tonight won’t be very stealthful. Point in fact, a young teenager on his mobile phone just stumbled across my hiding spot here. It’s 1935 hrs and about another 30 minutes to go before I creep back. Here’s hoping I get an undisturbed night.

I’ll be up and riding early tomorrow. It’s about 40 km to the next town and about another 500 km or so to Bingzhongluo and I don’t think I have the time to ride the entire distance. Another bus ride may be in order.    

03/05/2019

The Police 

Well, sitting there waiting for dark I started thinking hoisting my bike and bags over barricade on the old bridge and camping down on the river bank might be the safer alternative. I waited until just about full dark and rode across the derelict bridge (no guard rails - straight drop into the river if you vere off) and hoiked the bags and then the bike over the barricade on the far side. 

I picked a spot on the sandy riverbank and set up my tentless camp. No tent = 3 kg of camping gear I don't have to haul up and down hills. It also = no barrier between you and the things that creep and slither around in the night. It's a good thing the Chinese ate all the tigers and leopards here long ago. 

It was a quiet night, no one was going to cross that bridge and find me down there on the river beach and I used no light to ensure no one saw me. I didn't get much sleep though. I snore and when on my back, I snore so loudly I wake myself up with a fright. Oh yeah, and if you ever do sleep on the bank of the Nujiang, even in the middle of summer, make sure you sleep high enough to account for any middle of the night river fluctuations. I woke up in the wee hours with wet feet and a wet sleeping bag. I had to drag my bike and gear to higher ground and resettle. Good thing I was sleeping light. 

I was very tired next morning and knew I wasn't going to make it to Liuku, so settled for Mang Kuan instead. Only 40 km, but I need to pace myself - this is no race. Finding a hotel was easy tonight. I just rode about, picked one and the head lady got on the phone and mimed to sit down and wait for the police. 

Hurm, this will be interesting... About 5 minutes later a blue and white 4wd cop car pulls up and three young cops come in and start grilling me. They finger over my passport, not knowing what they are looking at. We share no common language, so they can't really grill me with questions. As a fall back they demand to look into my bags. As we all know a cyclists grimy bags are not a pretty thing to behold and they stopped shortly after getting to my dirty clothes. At one point they thought they might be onto something when they found my stash of magnesium pills. But that didn't last long. They left and told me to wait for the second squad car. Equally youthful, but with a completely different attitude, but still no shared language, they were friendly and courteous and left wishing me well on my journey. That was probably the entire Mang Kuan police department. Doing it by bike makes a huge difference, as I doubt they would have been so friendly had I arrived by motorised transport. 

Dinner was via the greasy spoon takeaway across the street. I just couldn't stand the idea of yet another bowl of noodle soup, my standard road meal here.   

The valley and the river are getting more majestic the further up I get. Tomorrow should be even better still. 

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