Posts Tagged ‘Cycling’


Mark has dengue fever. The blood test results are conclusive. When I arrived in Savannakhet the doctor was just leaving. Mark will not be doing any cycling for a while. I hope he has a fast recovery.

Road along the Mekong

Road along the Mekong

Tucker – a friend of Mark’s – is currently working in Savannakhet and will be here for Mark. I will take a day off too and rest up, but will then continue on.

Today’s cycling was pretty boring along a road that followed the Mekong through little villages. Straight and flat, it was again time to listen to podcasts and let the mind wander.


Turpan is famous for its heat, so I left early and descended the last metres to the second lowest place on the planet. I passed barren rocky plains and some saltbush plains before arriving in my backpacker’s hostel. Its great to sink into the backbacker’s environment and be amongst travellers.

The low flat plains

The low flat plains

Turpan borders on what I thought was a salt pan. I imagined cycled through landscape similar to Lake Eyre in outback Australia. It was a bit underwhelming – just flat saltbush country. Also, it wasn’t as hot as I had imagined. Uzbekistan was hotter.

Arriving in a backpacker hostel was lovely. No worries about police registration. People that speak English and understand my questions. An oasis of familiarity amongst a sea of foreignness. And I could speak with people in lots of different languages. I love that. I spoke English, German, Swedish, Spanish and Chinese. Yay!

New friends in Turpan

New friends in Turpan


Mark and I left the Mekong and Highway 13 four days ago in search of mountain serenity. We admired cultivated valleys surrounded by a rocky, karst landscape. We swam in cool, deep blue pools, and gaped in awe at panoramas of forest and plains. Today, I returned, alone, to the Mekong. The graceful sunset over the still Mekong was stunning – the highlight of the whole side-trip. Mekong – I’m glad to be back!

Sunset on the Mekong

Sunset on the Mekong

Mark is sick. He had a temperature and chills yesterday. This morning he messaged me from his room. His friend Tucker who is living in Savannakhet would come and pick him up in the car, and take him to Savannakhet to recover. Mark wrote he is in good hands, and I should cycle on. After seeing him briefly in his cabin door, and after him assuring me that it is OK, I packed up and hit the road for the Mekong town of Thakhek.

The road was pretty, and, except for a 400m steep drop, mostly flat. I put myself into distance mode, and scooted along towards Thakhek – trying to make time to also be able to visit the Falan caves and waterhole. I made it in time for a swim, and also to see the amazing sunset on the Mekong. Tomorrow I will take the little side road that follows the shore of the mighty river.

Rocky backdrop

Rocky backdrop

Falan waterhole

Falan waterhole

Umbrellas on the Mekong

Umbrellas on the Mekong

Mekong River

Mekong River

The Mekong River at sunset

The Mekong River at sunset


I missed a day to the rain. The village that I got to know as wet and grey I discovered was perched in a beautiful snowy mountain lined meeting of valleys. I cycled up one of these valleys and down the other side, watching the landscape transform from grassy high mountain plains to a barren flat desert.

Summit prayer flags

Summit prayer flags

When I left my little room at 3am to have a leak, I stepped outside and saw a starry sky, and a crescent moon. I smiled. The rain has gone, and the day cycling will be awesome. And it was. Three more kilometres on the crap road surface before the turn-off, and the smooth roads I have come to love in China.

My bedroom for the night

My bedroom for the night

The rainy village in the sun

The rainy village in the sun

The road was a bit rough

The road was a bit rough

Then a steady climb through the grassy yurt valley before the steep climb. I have grown used to these big climbs. I reach the end of the valley, look ahead at the ring of mountains and wonder where the road is going to go. Then I spot the road way up in some impossible place. How is the road going to get there? Well, it does. Somehow.

Yurts

Yurts

High mountain valley

High mountain valley

Top of the pass

Top of the pass

And then the descent to beat all descents. In total the road drops from 3200m to below sea level – over 200km. It drops from the rolling grassy green landscape to the hot, desolate, rocky flats. I stopped after 131km at the edge of the wide flat expanse. The crossing of that to Turpan can wait until tomorrow.

The way down

The way down

It's getting dryer

It’s getting dryer

The dry rocky mountains

The dry rocky mountains


Today is the most beautiful part of our side loop from the Mekong – according to the Lonely Planet. The newly created ghost forest of dead trees, standing in the newly created dam was pretty. The road-works did not enhance the tranquillity. We had an early stop due to fever.

Lake of dead trees

Lake of dead trees

Did this used to be virgin rain forest? It certainly wasn’t very dense now. It was hot on the dusty road, giving me flash-backs from China and the endless road works there. Here the density of trucks and excavators, jack-hammers and rollers was much less than in China meaning there were moments of peace. Then suddenly the good road surface started and the meandering through the newly created lake started.

Today I passed 22000km.

22000km

22000km

We stopped for lunch at a lovely little resort on the lake, with naked kids frolicking in the water as the thunder-clouds loomed.
‘Do I have a temperature?’ asked Mark. I put my hand on his head. He did.
Then he felt my forehead.
‘You’re like a refrigerator.’
We checked in and Mark disappeared into his room. He joined for dinner, rugged up and shivering. I hope he is better tomorrow.


A drop of 1500m over 50km on a smooth road, and a climb of 800m over 40km on the road from hell. The police nearly didn’t let me take the road from hell – it took me two attempts to pass the police checkpoint. I’m all ready for the last climb to over 3000m before the long roll into the below sea-level furnace called Turpan.

A bumpy road

A bumpy road

A day of contrasts. Frost on the tent at 3300m, and the midday heat having lunch at 1800m. A smooth paved road descending 1500m from the heavens, and a bumpy, rocky, sandy road, plied by big trucks ascending back into the heavens. Failure to pass the police checkpoint. I said I wanted to go to Urumqi (which is the same road to Turpan). Then success – I said I wanted to go to Turpan. (I think they know that a cyclist can handle 40km of crap roads to the turnoff to Turpan. The whole 180km on crap roads over a 4000m high pass is a bit much.. ☺)

Summit monument

Summit monument

The long descent

The long descent

Day 257. 67km. Na Hin – Lak Sao

Posted: November 14, 2015 in Cycling, Laos
Tags: , , ,

When the distance required is low, the breaks become longer, and side-trips are included. Cycling through the undulating landscape, surrounded by rocky peaks, we detoured for a swim in a cool, deep pool. In the end, we only just made it before sunset to the distinctly ‘border-town’ Lak Sao.

Entering the water

Entering the water

The road was lovely and peaceful, but climbing in the roasting sun was a very sweaty affair. This made the promise of a cool break at the cool spring irresistible. It turned out to be irresistible for the hoard of western motorbike riders too, so we had some company.

Road to springs

Road to springs

Kids

Kids

The beautiful plains

The beautiful plains


It’s a different China. This morning I left my holiday yurt, climbed into the heavens, and dropped down onto wide, open plains, with snow-capped mountains in the distance, and void of people. With the wind at my back, I rolled along these endless plains, feeling free and happy in this beautiful place.

The high plains

The high plains

You can see for miles – in fact more than 20 kilometres. This is a photo looking back at the previous photo.

The High Plains

The High Plains

The plains roll on in all directions for-ever. Leaving the road you could walk until you are a dot, invisible from the road. Slowly, I climbed on the plains, and they turned into a high yurt valley – but this time real yurts – not the holiday yurts below. The plains are flat, and a fence lines the road, making a secret camp challenging. My tent is in view of the road, in a tiny dip, next to a small river.

Frosty camping spot

Frosty camping spot

View from the high pass

View from the high pass

Summit monument

Summit monument


We left the main road along the Mekong, and left the busy boredom, exchanging it for rocky, pointy mountains, karsts, and a spectacular view over a wide flat plane surrounded by cliff faces.

An amazing view - the photo doesn't do it justice

An amazing view – the photo doesn’t do it justice

The stress lifted as we turned the corner, and made our way through a rolling landscape. The speeding white Toyota Landcruisers were no more, and the road was returned to local traffic. We undulated our way through dense forest, with the calls of the cicadas and chainsaws reigning supreme. Not as krass as in China, but, we passes some ugly quarries and tree harvesting. Mostly it was a cycle through nature and the heat.

Karst landscape

Karst landscape

Rocky hills

Rocky hills

Banana and pineapple stop

Banana and pineapple stop


I squat, pants removed, over the hole in the cement. As the first shit spatters out with a burst, my neighbour leans forward and looks at me around the chest-high dividing partition.
‘Where are you from?’
My next brown package explodes out.
‘Germany. By bike.’
I get the thumbs-up (with pants down).

River

River

And so the conversation goes. I am quite proficient at it now in Chinese. From Germany. Yes. 15000km. 10 months. Via Turkey, Iran and Kazakhstan. Australia. 2 years. Worked at Philips. About $10000 (amount I have spent up to now). Today my story brought me an invitation to a picnic on the river with bread and honey from the local stall. A lovely couple from Urumqi with 2 small children invited me to join them.

Picnic friends

Picnic friends

This morning, before I was allowed to leave the hotel, my passport had to be shown to the police again. It’s stressful – you aren’t allowed to camp, and usually, you can’t stay in a hotel either. Other cyclists that had tried my planned route had been turned back by the police, and so I was nervous approaching the police checkpoint at the turnoff. My fluorescent vest removed, all filming equipment hidden, I was luckily part of a massive crowd of people that were being waved through. Still, no hotels for me on this stretch of road, lest I be taken to the police and turned back.

Cycling up the river my mood changed. It was not flat, hot, busy and boring, but rather, I was following a lovely forested valley with a beautiful raging river. The river abounded with lots of beautiful flat places to pitch a tent away from view of the road, and so my hopes were high. I planned to camp just before the road left the river to wind its way over the pass. Unfortunately, holiday yurt developers had the same idea. The last 10km before was wall-to-wall yurt – a bit like the Spanish Mediterranean coast but Chinese style. Then it started to rain. I would risk it. I asked some yurt owners if I could stay in the yurt. They were only boys, and probably don’t know about reporting tourists to the police. Yes. I could pitch my tent behind a yurt for free, or stay in one for 150 yuan. With the rain getting heavier, a yurt it was.