Escape the madness
N 36°00'04.4'' E 109°23'19.5''
Date:
26.11.2015
Day: 151
Country:
China
Province:
Shaanxi
Location:
Fuxian
Latitude N:
36°00’04.4”
Longitude E:
109°23’19.5”
Daily kilometers:
100 km
Total kilometers:
11,110 km
As the crow flies:
69.34 km
Average speed:
23.5 km
Maximum speed:
47.4 km
Travel time:
4:13 hrs
Soil condition:
Asphalt
Maximum height:
1.100 m
Total altitude meters:
11.398 m
Altitude meters for the day:
415 m
Sunrise:
07:28 am
Sunset:
5:30 pm
Temperature day max:
8 °C
Temperature day min:
minus 3 °C
Departure:
10:30 a.m.
Arrival time:
5:40 pm
Total plate tires:
11
Plate front tire:
2
Flat rear tire:
8
Plate trailer tire:
1
(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).
In minus 3 degrees and bright sunshine, we get into the saddle and cycle through Yan’an. Although the sun has licked away the snow, we pedal our bikes over the asphalt with extreme caution. Treacherous patches of ice are still hiding under the coal dust. Because the city was built in a valley, it stretches on forever. Countless high-rise buildings rise to the left and right of the street. Many of them are still under construction. After about 10 kilometers, the arterial road leads in a westerly direction. I stop and compare the route specified in MAPS.ME with the one in the GPS. “Something’s wrong,” I say to Tanja, because our destination today, the town of Fuxian, lies to the south. After a while I realize that the map program wants to take us onto the freeway, but we are not allowed to drive on it. “What a bummer. We missed the turn-off onto the main road about 7 km ago,” I say. Unfortunately, you cannot enter alternative routes in MAPS.ME, so it is more suitable for car drivers. Although our GPS shows our current position on the map, it is not a navigation device that shows us the way to our destination. So we have no choice but to turn back. 14 km later we are back in the center of Yan’an. This time I quickly found the turn-off to the main road. “Yes!”, I shout happily, pedaling my bike south. Suddenly the rear wheel starts to wobble and before I come to a halt the rim bumps over the dirty asphalt. “What is it?” asks Tanja. “I think Yan’an wants us to stay. My rear tire is flat again,” I reply as calmly as possible. An hour later, at 1:30 a.m., the tube is replaced and the bike is loaded again. We finally leave the city and follow the G210 towards Fuxian.
The road leads us through a wide valley. We follow a river that has been maltreated by civilization and I wonder where the Chinese get their drinking water if they abuse their rivers as sewers? Although we are still in the Qin Ling Mountains, we only have to cross just over 400 meters of altitude today. So we are making rapid progress. At 2:30 a.m. my rear tire wobbles again. I immediately apply the brakes. The tire is flat again. So as not to fly off the handle, I think of an ox that has to walk in circles all its life to turn a millstone. In comparison, 11 punctures are a joke. We unload the bike. Then I examine the coat to find the cause of the escaping air. Somewhere there must be a truck carcass wire that keeps poking holes in the tube. “Can you find anything?” I ask Tanja, who scans the coat centimeter by centimeter. “No. Nothing to feel or see.” “Then we’d best take a new coat. There’s something in it. Otherwise we wouldn’t have had three flat tires in 100 km,” I say. Trucks and cars thunder past us as we work. To make sure we don’t break down again, we fill the hose with 60 ml of DOC BLUE. Because, according to the instructions, it should then be inflated with high pressure, I pump like a madman with the small air pump until it reaches 2.5 bar. I quickly put the rear tire back into the frame and turn it so that the sealing fluid can be evenly distributed. Then we continue our journey.
When we reach the town of Fuxian after almost eight hours, a detour, two flat tires and 100 km, it is already dark. Exhausted but happy, we park our bikes in front of our accommodation and find out that we are not allowed to take them into the house despite our previous assurances. The manager wants them parked at a public bus station. We are appalled. After a lengthy discussion, however, the owner of the hotel allows us to store the e-bikes in the lobby. “But their bike trailers have to stay outside,” we understand. “I have a surveillance camera,” he says, pointing to the small electronic eye on the ceiling. Since I know that such a camera is useless, because the observer of the action is certainly asleep at night, I try to explain to him that the trailers also have to be in the house. The man looks at me. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Has no idea how important the trailers are, how important and irretrievable every piece of equipment is for us. We have no energy left to look for other accommodation, especially as we don’t know if there is even a guest house in this small town that is allowed to accept foreigners. Regardless of whether they accept a dog and set our bikes in the house. Although we were able to experience a wonderful day, we are feeling the ups and downs of life at this moment. The downside is sobering, it is one aspect of the land of contrasts. We discuss further and call Magaret from Bosch, who has been helping us to book the accommodation in advance for some time. I hand my smartphone to the owner of the guest house. That way Margaret can speak to him directly and hopefully resolve the situation. As soon as the man has given me my phone back, he unlocks a shed right next to his house. As if nothing had happened, we are now allowed to store our trailers there. Once again, fate shows us that anything is possible, even if we sometimes don’t believe it. It often depends on perseverance, a strong will and inner conviction.
After our trailers and bikes are locked away, we have to carry our equipment to the second floor. As the lighting has failed, in complete darkness. “Phew, what a day,” I say, sitting down on the bed. “I’m starving. Shall we go for something to eat?” asks Tanja. “Yes, but first I have to transfer the images from the cameras to the computer and record our log data,” I reply, although to be honest I don’t know where I’m going to find the energy for that.
After dinner, we crawl into our smoke-scented beds, exhausted. Below our room is a karaoke bar with the speakers turned all the way up, making the floor and walls shake. “I don’t believe it!” I swear and run to reception to complain. “I can’t hear anything,” says the lady at reception. In fact, none of the terrible noise can be heard here. “Please come into our room and listen to this,” I suggest, whereupon the young Chinese woman reluctantly follows me. Wum! Wum! Wum!, it hammers to a terribly weird scream. The receptionist is overwhelmed by the situation. “It stops at midnight,” she promises and leaves. We pass the time by reading. At midnight, the infernal howling intensified. Obviously all the singers are now not only hotter but totally drunk. “Like in Mongolia,” I groan, because we often suffered through karaoke bars there and try to bury my head under the pillow. “I can’t take it anymore,” says Tanja at 1:00 a.m. and storms to reception. She manages to drag three of the people there into our room. Somewhat embarrassed, they offer to move us to another room on the third floor. Tanja and I look at each other. Not a chance. Dragging our household up one floor is now completely out of the question at 1:15 am. The three of them leave us again, not without promising that the noise will stop by 2:00 a.m. at the latest.
It’s 3:00 in the morning. Tanja fled to the land of dreams an hour ago. I lie awake in my bed. The heavy bass booms through the mattress and the cat-like, sometimes hysterical Chinese screams continue to penetrate unfiltered through the floor and walls. I try to remain calm and take the madness of the weird, loud and shrill sounds as a learning task to accept the unchangeable. In this case, the only way to escape the madness…
The live coverage is supported by the companies Gesat GmbH: www.gesat.com and roda computer GmbH www.roda-computer.com The satellite telephone Explorer 300 from Gesat and the rugged notebook Pegasus RP9 from Roda are the pillars of the transmission.
