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.

A lesson I allowed myself to learn (the first of many)

Don’t be scared to ask for help and graciously accept when assistance is offered.

(Unless the “helper” is a Mongolian rascal that lives in Hulun Buir and drives a motorcycle with a blue fuzzy seat cover with the Beijing Olmpic’s icons on it and has a ring finger with gout.)

I don’t know what happened or how I developed an awful habit of not asking for help.  Maybe I thought it was a sign of weakness or a true character flaw if you couldn’t use resources to figure it for yourself.  There are some people that truly do think this – I have met a couple.  These are the same type of people that don’t seem to try anything new either – maybe for fear of failing because they refuse to ask for a helping hand.

When I first began planning this trip, May of 2009, I thought I could use all the books and maps and resources possible to get concrete answers and just move along my way.  Sure, maybe I’ll have to ask for help on my ride, but heck, I can figure this out…right?  WRONG!!!

Within a week or so I had sent out dozens and dozens of emails.  Hey! – you cyclists that think I have it “easy” because I have gear sponsorship – think again….hundreds of emails…HUNDREDS!…many go unanswered.

It’s not the most awesome feeling to ask for financial or additional support.  Especially coming from a Western culture where money is not discussed.  Here, in good ol’China – people just come right out with it.  No taboo or qualm about it at all.

In my very VERY early 30’s – I have this idea that I shouldn’t have to ask for financial help from friends and strangers…shouldn’t I be self sufficient.  Well, if we want to play the “be normal” game…shouldn’t I be married, own a home, and be on to my second child.  Yeah, don’t even let me meander down that road…………………..

When I first started along, I was a little shy about asking.  That shyness broke real fast!  I was traveling along the Grand Canal taking roads that weren’t even 2 meters wide and I’d be lucky to even see a bicycle pass.  I just followed the compass in one direction until I hit a populated area.  Stopping to check a compass became too time consuming so I just began to read direction by the sun – or by the which side of my calves were burning from the late afternoon sun.  (For some reason, the giant blue work trucks will throw the compass off if you are too close.  You can watch the needle swing like a pendulum as the trucks drive past too).

Rolling up into a small town or village, some will run right up to you and ask where you are going.  And in China – EVERYONE likes to give their opinion and advice.  Within in seconds people are pointing and debating which way.  Often times looking at my map and telling me what I already know.  How difficult can it be to ask for help in a country where nearly everyone WANTS to help you.

It’s kinda AWESOME and really helped teach me that it’s okay.  It’s really okay to say, “Wo milu. wo yao qu ….” 我迷路。我要去。。。

(Traveling in China…DO NOT ASK cops for help…more trouble than it’s worth.  UNLESS, you find yourself in a village of about 30 people in Hulun Buir and he is strolling along the dirt road.  Those coppers enjoyed posing me with some other coppers and taking a photo together examining my Passport/Visa.)

Besides asking for help, I’ve always had a difficult time accepting the offer of a little assistance.  Why?  Heck if I know…maybe I think it will make me lesser of a person…weak, inferior, etc.

Well, when you are exhausted, hot, hungry…you learn to accept all the handouts you possibly can.

There is one major exception – MY BIKE!  At first, I was a little tolerant of people wanting to help hook up the panniers.  But then it just got out of control with big ol’ man sausage fingers being stuck in between my spokes (that sounds a little perverted).  Finally, I broke…the biggest sausages and the most aggressive stranger to approach outside a hotel to “help”.  I pushed his hand back firmly and looked him straight in the eyes and said, no I can do it!  (No quotation marks because it was in Chinese).  Usually I let girls and women give it a go because they are less aggressive and harsh with things.  The last thing I need is a broken bag.  AND, females pay MUCH closer attention to how I do it so they do it nearly perfect themselves.  The men…oh THE MEN………….OH….they have their own way to handle.

(Dear Reader, can you sense the feelings I have for the opposite sex here?  This is for another very VERY long essay in the future.  In small towns and especially villages, the men are generally harmless and kind…but start getting into “cities” – it’s a whole ‘nuther story.  That will be also included in my “Rules of the Road – Women Edition”.  I’d love to write a research paper on this subject but I think it may be a little one sided as 90% of my sources would be women.   Does the problem lie with the fact that there are no men in the education system as teachers?  Children are raised my women generally, where the boy is coddled beyond belief?  Where are the role models?  Probably working, making money to support their family…I don’t know – it’s stuff that swims in my head every single day.)

I don’t know if “solo” is the right word for my trip.  The amount of help and advice I have been given, and still receive, is beyond belief.  Every day, for nearly 5 months, someone offered me help of some sort.  Whether it was handing me water out of a car window, offering me a ride (no way), route advice, etc.

What I’ve really realized is that when you, me, us, ask for help – we open up ourselves to others.  And with this relationship wonderful things can happen and evolve.  Sometimes, after riding for hours without any human contact or communication, I would pull over and ask a question I already knew just to see where it would lead me.  Okay, yeah yeah yeah…once it lead me to a dangerous place…but you get what I’m saying.

So, I went from being afraid to ask for help to just going up to strangers with questions that I didn’t need answered just for human interaction.

I have more about all this written in my journals, which probably sounds a little more poetic, but I thought I would share now.

Every day I wake up wondering where I would be…I check the weather every evening to see how cold it would be getting in the NW.  Every time I get on my cruiser or road bike here, I get butterflies in my stomach.  When I road Lieutenant home from the train station a couple weeks back – I have a feeling towards it that I have never felt towards an in-animate object in my life.  She/He has a life of it’s own and when I gaze at her/him, I feel like he/she is gazing back with the same thoughts, memories, and experiences.  Weird, bizarre, crazy…maybe…it’s kind of my best friend and an extension of myself.

Bike

Soma Saga 54″ Frame/Fork
Octalink 170 Crankset
Deore XT 11-34 Cassette
Dura Ace Bar End Shifters
Kool Stop Brakepads
Origin 8 Canti Brakes
Front and Rear Surly Racks
Ortlieb Front and Rear Waterproof Plus Panniers
Double Kickstand
Diore XT Front and Rear Hubs
BB Shimano ES25 Crankset
Shimano SLX Front Derailleur
Shimano HG73 Chain
Alex 36 hole Rims
Maxxis Detonator 1.5 Tires
Continental Tubes
Oval M200 Stem
Deda Grip
Nitto Randonneur Bars
Jagwire Cable
Neco Headset

First ride.

Just a little peek. Still need to add fenders and switch out the tires to Panaracers.

I want to thank Chain’s Sprockets here in Shanghai for doing such an awesome job on the build. It’s the smoothest ride I’ve had in a long time. Chain’s also helped support the cause by giving me a wonderful discount and did not include a fee for the top of the line labor. Best shop in Shanghai, perhaps China – hands down.

I’ll give a run down of components later.

Saga arrived in Shanghai

So it seems that the Saga has gained some popularity, not to mention that some of my friends have become very interested in this bike because of their generosity. I was expecting to get the frame shipped to me while I was in the States, but they were behind orders for 54 frames. I’m still in the States, preparing to return and just got notice of the arrival of my frame to my home in Shanghai.

I would love to hear from you!