The Longest Day

Looking back on my 10-day bike trip through Sichuan province, there is one day in particular which stands out.  After biking 150km in two days, and hiking up 10,000+ stairs, my legs were just two jelly tubes hanging off my torso.  Our first day after the hike to the summit of Emei mountain, we only biked about 10k and decided to rest for the night in a nice hotel… we deserved it.

And then there was the 5^th day…

It all began nicely, we had a good breakfast and plotted our route for the day.  We figured if we left at around 10, then we could ride the 100km of relatively flat road to Ya’an before dinner.  Everything was on track until it started to rain.  I had planned for this and strapped my plastic 99 cent poncho over my backpack.  I figured I’d rather get wet with rain than with sweat, so I didn’t wear any raingear myself.  Momentary delay and I was back on the road.  After the first 50k, things were right on schedule for us to arrive by 4:30 – 5:00.  I was a little hungry at this point, but I figured if I just continued strong, then I’d be able to feast early with some Peace Corps friends working in Ya’an. The girl I was traveling with, fellow volunteer named Brianne, was not at all hungry, so we kept on truckin’.  Our French and Chinese counterparts had fallen well behind and called us with news that they’d hitchhiked into a nearby town and will just take a bus to Ya’an where they’d meet up with us. Brianne and I high-fived to celebrate Americans winning out over the French and Chinese, but we had no idea how our victory would be severely tarnished by the end of the day.

Then… everything went downhill… figuratively speaking of course, because literally speaking, things went uphill.  We rode up some hills as more and more road construction made our paved country road into a slop of mud and rocks which cars weren’t even allowed to drive on.  We keep biking, intermittently asking for directions and confirming that this “road” would lead us to the right place.  Knowing that each pedal brought me closer and closer to my destination and a warm bed, I kept hammering away despite thirst, fatigue, and hunger I haven’t known since high-school wrestling tournaments.  My drive waned drastically when the townspeople’s estimates became more and more arbitrary.  “20km to go” would become “27” and then “15” and back up to “22.”  The one thing I knew for sure was that we were making progress, so I kept on going.

BOOM! Flat tire. The shining moment of luck in a day of misery, Brianne happened to pop her tire in the only good place we would pass the whole day. We were directly next to a bike tire repair man, who put on two patches for less than a dollar, and we were back on our way in 20 minutes.  To add to our luck, the rain stopped and I felt a short bump of energy.  Then our muddy strip of road ended in a full-on roadblock. We could’ve picked up our bikes and walked around, but a helpful man told us he’d lead us to a detour. We acquiesced and I thought, “Gee, how nice… a detour!” IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN THAT the detour was an extra 30km up one of the steepest hills I’ve ever ridden a bike on. Trudging became walking became strapping our bikes to the back of a moped and riding to the top.  It was during this clownish accent to the top that my body gave up on me. Well it would have if it wasn’t for the lollipop that Brianne offered me as my eyes were rolling back into my head and my twitching legs gradually stopped moving all together. We made it to the top only to find out that our benevolent aid wanted payment for his “assistance” in driving us 30km out of our way. I would have gladly given his some gas money and even a little extra for the trouble, but the form of the request was entirely out of line.  He stopped on the side of the road and said, “before we continue, give me money.” I proposed that we’d give him a quarter of what he was extorting, but he countered with the ever so comforting truth, “You don’t know where you are or how to get where you’re going. Without me you won’t get there.” My brain had the neuronal attendance of an un-aired senate filibuster on kitten-puppy relations… or in other words, I was so out of it that I couldn’t even make up a good analogy to describe my exhaustion. I managed to persuade him to accept our 25% offer, and after we reached the top, I realized that during our ride up the mountain, my rear bike tire got bent.  Giving no $h!+ at all that my 18 dollar bike was halved in re-sale value, we rode our bikes UP the mountain following the road indicated by our new guide.

Once again, riding became walking became standing still and staring down at my lifeless legs. To the surprise of only those who don’t know her, Brianne saved the day again. Pears and peanut butter!!!... But no knife! I devoured the pear in Viking fashion, and with juice running down my chin I began thinking of some acceptable way of getting the peanut butter out of the jar and into my tummy. Fingers? No. Too filthy, even for me. Stick? Cleaner, but there might be some bark coming off into the PB. Turn a plastic grocery bag inside out and us it as a finger condom as I scoop out the PB like a starving badger? OK. I got my energy back up and began the 30 minute countdown to my next crash. 

Finally, some downhill! And the bystander estimates are regularly in the teens! And it’s only… oh… sunset. We continue in the dark as our mud road becomes paved again. Well, partially paved… and therein lies the problem. Turns out that though she’s a superstar at many things, Brianne’s nightvision is less than stellar. A large hole claims her front tire, and we roll into the next village as a raggedy bunch of failures. I ask a policeman how far to Ya’an, and the estimate is back up over 20. Apparently southern Sichuan has a network of wormholes which not even Stephen Hawking could navigate efficiently.  All the bike shops are closed, and we decide to just try and hitch a ride to the city.

A really nice couple picked us up and we made it to Ya’an at 9 o’clock, when I stuffed my face with food and passed out on the floor. A half-decent close to the longest eleven hour bike ride of my life.