Countless wind turbines and rain in the desert once again

I did not set off until shortly after 10:30 today. I had actually wanted to leave earlier, but I was still quite tired and, quite literally, had trouble getting going. The experience of the past few days has shown me once again that mindfulness and listening to my body remain the highest priorities. Just because I have already cycled more than nine thousand kilometers does not mean that I can now simply hammer through the kilometers without paying attention to the signals my body sends me. I still have to ride every single kilometer first, and I should not let myself be led into arrogance by thinking that I can do everything now. That may work in the mind, but not in reality. My self-confidence is increasing, but the line between confidence and overconfidence is a very fine one.

After the first climb, I soon noticed that I had a tailwind today. A strong tailwind, which pushed me forward very effectively even when it came slightly from the side. However, this cross-tailwind also meant that every time a large truck came toward me, I would be pushed noticeably off line, so I had to stay very careful and alert.

After the initial climb, the road went up and down gently and the landscape became increasingly barren. Apart from sand, rocks, and an enormous number of wind turbines—there must be thousands of them here—there was not much else to see. Thanks to the elevation, however, the temperature was very pleasant. I met two Chinese cyclists and chatted briefly with them. They recommended that I travel through the desert toward Hami together with the police. According to them, I could simply ask and would then be driven about 100 kilometers free of charge. They had done exactly the same thing themselves, just in the opposite direction. An interesting option and certainly a new experience. The two spoke very highly of the police in Xinjiang; apparently they really are friends and helpers.

After the flatter section, the road became somewhat steeper again at around the 70-kilometer mark. However, the tailwind was so strong that climbing still felt quite easy. At last, I truly felt full of energy again, and even when I pushed harder on the pedals, my heart rate no longer shot up immediately. It was a wonderful feeling.

Shortly before reaching the highest point of the day, a thunderstorm moved in, and I needed all of the strength I had regained. The wind shifted to a crosswind and became so strong that, about 14 kilometers before Xialaoba, I had to stop and take a break. I found shelter behind a wall and waited several minutes until the heaviest rain and strongest gusts had passed. Before long, the sun was shining again. The route then made a 90-degree turn, and I had to ride directly into the still-powerful wind. Fortunately, this only lasted for a few kilometers.

Shortly after 5 p.m., I arrived in Xialaoba and found the accommodation that could not be found online but had been recommended to me yesterday by Magang. For a place with neither a toilet nor a shower, it was far too expensive—about the same price as the fully equipped hotels I had stayed in during the previous days. But there is no other option here, except perhaps camping.

It is quite amusing that in this barren landscape—which one could certainly call a desert—it rained once again while I was here. I had already gained some experience with rain in the desert back in Uzbekistan. After my arrival, it rained quite heavily once more, and when I left the accommodation to buy some supplies, a beautiful rainbow appeared in the sky.

The accommodation hosts cooked a delicious meal for me, and at last I had a proper appetite again. I no longer had to force myself to eat as I had during the previous days. It seems that this latest mini-crisis has now passed.