Desert = Wind!

When I got up to use the toilet this morning, it was raining and the temperature was below 20°C. When I left my tent for the second time at nine o’clock, nothing had changed, and my motivation to get up was very limited. So I lay down again. By ten o’clock, however, I got up despite the continuing rain, because I still had quite a few kilometers ahead of me today. By the time I had packed everything up and eaten before setting off, it was already after 11 a.m.—and the rain had stopped.

Exactly one hour and just under 17 kilometers later, I reached the pass. There was nothing particularly remarkable to see there, however. During the descent, on the other hand, I enjoyed some beautiful scenery. Jonny from England had told me yesterday that this desert route was boring, but I did not feel that way at all. Parts of the Kazakh steppe had actually been far more monotonous. And the experience itself—cycling nearly 400 kilometers between Hami and Dunhuang while encountering only two service stations—is something special to me. That I would experience such low temperatures along the way had been unimaginable beforehand. Personally, I was perfectly happy about it.

At around the halfway point, I met Kedi. The young woman from Beijing was on her way toward England, and she amazed me with her flawless English spoken with a British accent. It was hard to believe that she was not English herself, but she explained that she had lived in the UK for quite some time. We talked for at least an hour, perhaps even longer. Another thing that surprised me was that she seemed to be carrying very little food. She told me that she planned to fast for a few days. I did not think that was a particularly good idea, so I gave her some of the supplies that I would no longer need during the remaining seventy-plus kilometers: a loaf of bread, a packet of dried mango, an electrolyte drink, and I also refilled her water bottle. I still had plenty of water myself. She said that I was a guardian angel, and our wonderfully warm encounter ended with a hug. Take care of yourself, dear Kedi!

Shortly afterward, I reached the lowest point of the day. I could not fully enjoy the descent because the wind, which was usually coming from the side, was simply too strong. The wind also continued during the gentle climb toward Dunhuang, forcing me once again to practice patience, as progress was slow. At least, unlike Kedi, I probably enjoyed a tailwind from time to time today.

What pleased me most while riding through the city was not the trees, but rather the fact that the road signs now used Pinyin instead of the Arabic script that had accompanied Chinese characters in Xinjiang. This means I can now read the pronunciation of Chinese place names and improve my knowledge of Chinese characters while riding. Because of the late start, the long conversation with Kedi, and the persistent wind, I did not arrive at my first hotel in Gansu Province until 7:40 p.m., even though I took no real breaks apart from my stop with Kedi. Nevertheless, the most challenging section of my journey through China in terms of external conditions is now behind me. At least in theory, because I will probably have to deal with higher temperatures again from here on.