Two-O-Two

Kellen Smetana
Before starting this trip, I had read about people breaking the 200 km mark in a single day, but I thought it was just the stuff of legends and fables.  I figured we would maybe hit 160 km (100 mi) once or twice, but I wasn’t sure if we would ever cross 200.  Our longest day for the entire first month was only about 130.  Then, we hit 202.

We left Jiayuguan after a lazy breakfast and were riding by 10am, fearing headwinds.  All of a sudden, whoosh – tailwinds.  And by tailwinds I mean Hurricane Andrew force tailwinds.  At our first break, Ben and I turned to each other and both said, “Eat as quickly as you can, we’re riding ‘til the cows come home today…”

My best attempt at depicting Hurricane Andrew

Maybe this shows it better

By 8pm we had hit 181.  I told Ben we had to go for it, we had to break 200.  He was on board.  We rode through 200 and immediately found the next ridge to camp behind as the endless west swallowed up the sun.  No photos, no celebratory libations, just a quick fist pump and a big smile.  And you can imagine how fun setting up camp was in these conditions.  We worked in pairs on each tent and even then I had a half-inch layer of sand to sleep on when we were done.

The next morning we woke up to Hurricane Brenda (again tailwinds… I probably would’ve cried had they been headwinds) and were on pace to break 300 until we hit the construction.  The only highway was turned into a lovely gravel pit for 130 kilometers.  And still we managed 160 kilometers on the day dodging trucks.

Enjoying the glamorous history of the Silk Road

Trucks, trucks, and more trucks.  Did I mention we passed a couple trucks en route?  The exhaust and accompanying dust were almost as good for my lungs as an aroma therapy session at a day spa.  And of course, they know that when passing other trucks, giving oncoming cyclists three inches on the shoulder is plenty of room to ride in.  The one good thing, though, was that a couple colorful, fully-loaded cyclists must have been quite the break from the monotony of the gravel, desert, and truck caravan.  We got so many honks, cheers, and waves that we had a contest with ourselves to come up with the most creative response.  This led to frequent pointing, saluting, bowing, and laughing; I even threw out a couple rock-n-roll-tongue-and-hands, blew a couple kisses to the women, and thought about a Sammy Sosa home-run celebration.  Not quite sure who won, Ben’s bows were pretty classic.

This little guy caused quite the backup

Just enough room for a bow

We continue to dart across the desert at a torrid pace, soaking up the tailwinds as they come and bearing the headwinds otherwise.  As for camping, we’ve even managed some clever solutions there.

Sleep in these tomb-like things to avoid the wind?

If the glove fits...

Ben broke three spokes en route to Hami, but fortunately we were able to get them fixed here as we refreshed on melon after melon in this oasis town.  We’re halfway to Urumqi, our next major destination, and look to have some pretty slick tan lines on arrival.  Oh, and we’ll take Hurricane Carlos tailwinds if we can get them.

Honey, going to the next town for some coffee. Be back next week!