Motorcycle Misaventures in China: October 15

After a fourteen hour nap I woke to a beautiful sunny autumn Beijing day. After tanking up on coffee — there’s no Starbucks north of Beijing, that we know of — Teresa and I set off for the shop where a gang of seven riders (and one passenger) set off from Jim’s shop. Mr Yin and Mr Yang (not the right spelling) were riding a CJ-BMW, as was, Jim, Tim (an oil worker stationed in China), Big Bill (the owner of another CJ shop in Beijing, Diny (a longtime expat originally from Holland), and me. Teresa was the only one riding a 100% Chang Jiang frame and engine. We’d worry about this later!

"Urban sprawl" is the defining term for Beijing, endless with new construction, but finally we were in the hills where farmers sold fresh dates that taste like apples and squashes and persimmons ripe and soft. We  made a terrible mess of ourselves eating them as the farmers laughed.

Portions of the Great Wall were visible as we reached the top of the mountains, along with watchtowers and a cold, stark sunlight that chilled us to the bone. But it was worth it! Leaves of aspens scattered lightly golden across the road like butterflies, and colorful wild pheasants scattered at the sound of the motorcycles. The roads have improved 500% since the last time I was here, and the country is obviously more prosperous. Little mountain resorts are being constructed all along this road, next to trout ponds and streams and overlooks. Some are classy, some are tacky, like the Caribbean Girl resort with tiki torches.

The young man from Beijing sitting next to me on the plane told me that the Chinese are just barely starting to get the concept of outdoor activities like hiking. He laughed when I said that in America, Heibi province would be a major eco-tourist destination with managed trails and campgrounds and rugged mountain restaurants. He said he just couldn’t imagine it.

We stopped for lunch at one of the resort restaurants along the road, known. The open-sided restaurant was in the middle of a little trout pond, we had to walk a narrow path built above the water to get to it, and I wondered if anyone had ever fallen in.  The meal was good — being a vegetarian I didn’t taste the trout, which looked nicely prepared in the Chinese style, quickly fried and sliced into narrow strips, and served whole on a big plate.

There was also an eggplant and tomato dish, and a crisp salad made from shredded potatoes and something green like squash, and peppers and some nice spices. They don’t always cook potatoes to death here, but sometimes just steam them until they’re hot through. 

After our meal, Bill turned back and the rest of the gang rode to the next town, where Jim and Tim turned back and we three girls plus Mr Yin and Mr Yang (riding in the sidecar) traveled three hours in the dark to the next town with a hotel. We lamented that we hadn’t brought a tent and sleeping bags. It would probably be fairly easy to camp in all this open space here.

No…we hadn’t planned to ride in the dark. In fact it is downright dangerous with truckers flashing their brights at you, in the pitch dark on narrow roads with no safety rails. But it couldn’t be helped — actually, had we known, we would have looked for a luguan — a simple dormitory style motel — in the town we parted in. But we thought we had only an hours drive in the dusk, not a three hour ride so it couldn’t be helped.

Ten years ago I ended up doing the very same thing on my first day on the road in China. I was alone, and got lost in these same mountains, and couldn’t find a village much less a motel, and ended up in that — well, you can read about it.

The best hotel in town was nearly full and it took us an hour for them to search for rooms for us. It seemed to be two different hotels housed in the same building. One was a formal hotel and the other side seemed to be a cheaper variety. None of the bathrooms looked at all inviting — not only moldy but lights and water didn’t work reliably. It was as laughable a situation as I’d experienced on my previous visit. My bathroom light went out after about 15 minutes — it must have been on a timer, so I squatted in the bathtub in the dark relishing my hot shower (an actual hot shower!) hoping that the cockroaches weren’t wanting a bath, too.

But all was not horrible. The manager led us through the dark, dirty country city to the best hot pot restaurant in town where we ate until we couldn’t eat any more, we thought, for several days. After that great meal and a beer, it didn’t matter where we slept, we all slept hard until dawn the next day and headed out at 7:30 for destinations not quite known.

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