Sandstorm

Since yesterday turned into another very late night—I didn't go to bed until 3 a.m.—I naturally got up quite late today. As soon as I woke up, I saw a message from Xin saying that he was near the hotel and had brought some fruit for me. By the time I had finished packing, he was already waiting outside. He had brought much more than just fruit: there were also peanuts, some special medicated plasters, and Tiger Balm, which he said worked well against mosquito bites. Thank you so much for all these thoughtful gifts—they were incredibly kind!

Before setting off, I ate a bowl of noodles with vegetables as a late breakfast—or perhaps an early lunch. Then, at 11:45 a.m., I got on my bike and started riding. The sky had a beige tint, and the restaurant owner told me that there was sand in the air. Of course, sand doesn't lift itself into the air—it needs wind. And today, the wind was blowing straight into my face.

The first few kilometers were on a gentle downhill slope, so I still made good progress, probably because the trees lining the road absorbed some of the wind. For a long stretch, everything around me was green, and visually I hardly felt as though I was still riding through the desert. Yet besides the headwind, I kept tasting fine sand blowing into my mouth.

As the ride went on, the wind seemed to grow stronger and stronger. Eventually, even the protective trees along the roadside disappeared. At just the right moment, the two cans of Red Bull I had received earlier came in very handy.

Shortly after receiving the energy drinks, I stopped for a break. Fortunately, I had already completed more than two-thirds of today's distance, because by then the wind had become absolutely relentless. As I slowly sipped my drink, a man came by and said that there was no way I should continue riding in these conditions. I replied that I only had a little over 28 kilometers left and that I would manage. He insisted that I stay where I was and even offered to arrange a room for me free of charge. Nevertheless, I politely declined.

Today's plan had intentionally been a shorter stage because there are no accommodation options between here and Zhangye, meaning tomorrow will already be a 150-kilometer day. I didn't want to add another 28 kilometers today. So after refueling, I continued on. Making progress was anything but easy, yet I managed to stay calm inside and kept turning the pedals steadily, even though my speed often dropped to just 12 or 13 km/h. At one point, a truck even stopped and offered to give me a lift because, in the driver's opinion, it was impossible to ride under such conditions. The offer was certainly tempting, but I declined it as well. I still felt very good, after all—it wasn't hot, and I hadn't been riding for that long yet.

Then I noticed a long line of trucks in the distance. As I got closer, I saw what had happened: a small truck had apparently been blown off the road by the wind and now needed to be recovered. That gave me even greater respect for the weather conditions. Still, I kept getting closer and closer to my destination. I briefly spoke with a cyclist coming from the opposite direction, who must have been enjoying an incredible tailwind. By then, I could finally see farther into the distance again.

During the final few kilometers, the road was once again lined with trees. I was amazed at how much difference they made in reducing the force of the wind. Riding immediately became easier again, and my heart rate, which had remained somewhat elevated for a long time, finally dropped back down. Perhaps it was also because the road was gently descending again—or maybe it was a combination of both.

In any case, I arrived safely at the hotel at 5:40 p.m. and felt only slightly tired. That gives me confidence that tomorrow's 150 kilometers should be manageable, especially if the wind really is almost calm, as the forecast predicts. Even so, I'd still like to set off earlier than I did today, particularly because tomorrow is expected to be a bit hotter.