India had been fun but it was by-the-book travel, literally. Pretty much everywhere we went was described ahead 
of time in our Lonely Planet. It's not an aptly named book - you won't be lonely as you head to places with 
people much like yourself, carrying the exact same book around, planning on doing the exact same activities the 
book recommends. A travel guide can't be any other way, I suppose, but I didn't like the sense of being led 
along the same path, seeing what I was expected to see. In contrast, our plan for China, if you could call it a 
plan, was original and audacious. We'd head to the edge of the mountains, buy some motorcycles, and drive them 
into the mountains on an undetermined route without license, registration, or insurance. Our goal was to stick 
to backroads, to avoid traffic and towns used to tourists. It's not a mode of tourism recommended anywhere, but 
it is a recipe for adventure.<br/><br/>

After a empty plane flight where I was able to sleep across a whole row of coach seats, I arrive at the airport 
in Shanghai. Seeing Shanghai after being in India is a shock - everything is new and modern, nicer than most 
cities in America. I ride a bus with a flat-screen TV over a perfectly smooth highway to a 5 star hotel, and 
wait to meet Sky in the lobby. Eager to recharge before setting out on difficult travel again, he takes me to an 
American style diner that serves a real burger, ending a month of beef deprivation. We take a taxi to his 
friend's apartment and sleep.<br/><br/>

The next day we hurry to prepare before leaving Shanghai. I withdraw some Chinese cash from the ATM, do laundry, 
and spend some time in an internet cafe. With a half hour to spare, we find a camping store with fuel for the 
stove, and then begin a mad dash to make our train. We duck into one station, which is the wrong one, so we run 
back up to the street, sprinting down the sidewalk, fully strapped with our oversized packs. After a few blocks, 
we slow to a jog, then speed up as we spot the proper station. Fumbling to buy the train ticket to the main 
station, Sky drops small change on the ground, and we run off without it, only to be chased by the attendant. We 
don't know where the right track is so we show strangers our tickets, and they incrementally point us to the 
right place. We just miss the train we need, then take another one 2 1/2 minutes later, and scramble out into 
the main station. Every person who checks our tickets tells us to hurry, and we sprint down the escalator to the 
right train, and then down the train to the right car.<br/><br/>

Sweating and exhausted, all eyes fix on us as we come through the door. Our two seats are the only ones left 
open, and as I move to put my huge pack on the rack above, the man in front of me erupts in protest before I can 
crush his baggage. We stow our things and sit down in hard small seats with backs that are straight up. It's a 
36 hour ride to Chengdu, and there's nowhere to sleep. I'm taking in how miserable the ride will be when a 
policeman comes over to check if we're really supposed to be on this train. In his limited Chinese, Sky finds 
out there are sleeper cars available, and we gladly pay the extra money to get out of there. We walk what seems 
like a half mile to the other end of the train through narrow corridors, holding the packs in front because 
that's the only way they'll fit, and I try to gesture an apology after crushing some old lady's foot.<br/><br/>

Situated on nice beds with space to move around, we make a chess set with pen and paper and play cards. One lady 
working on the train hovers around, telling us when we can eat in the dining car and teaching me a few Chinese 
phrases. After a long ride across the plains, we finally stop, and the train attendant offers to take us into 
town. She knows a few people who might want to buy the motorcycles, and arranges to take us bike shopping the 
next day. When we get to our hostel, there are two beautiful dirt bikes parked inside, and I become excited 
about getting one of those, since we'll be on backroads the whole time.<br/><br/>

After a night of rest, we meet Gigi to look at the bikes. Two of her friends arrive in a van, and we drive into 
the dealership corner of town. We look at one dirt bike that's decent, but I notice some bolts are loose, and it 
looks carelessly assembled. The other bike we consider is top of the line for the Chinese - the Jialing 150. 
Boasting 11 hp, disc brakes front and rear, and 90 mpg fuel economy, it's the nicest dirt bike you can buy, and 
it's only about $800 US. I take it for a test ride around the lot, screaming it over speed bumps in an alley and 
then riding up on a gravel pile. When I bring it back I try to suppress my smile so we don't blow the 
negotiation. We need another day to withdraw the cash for the purchase, and I feel like a kid on the night 
before Christmas. After what feels like ages, we're back the next day to drive off with the bikes. They bring in 
another matching bike from the factory, we pick out helmets, and then find a way to tie our packs to the tiny 
rack on the back. They want us back the next day to finish the paperwork, so we head out of town to camp for the 
night.<br/><br/>

As we drive out of town with just a general direction to guide us, I start getting a sense of what being off the 
tourist track is like. All the food is for locals, no one speaks English, and we get stares wherever we go. We 
stop for food, and a man distracted by us plows his moped into a bench. We see police a few times, but they seem 
uninterested, even though everyone else forms a fascinated crowd. By the time we're at the edge of town, the sun 
is getting low, and I'm anxious to find a campsite before dark. We pass over a river on a bridge, and I notice 
sand below and old vehicle tracks. We turn parallel to the river, find a rough foot trail down, and take the 
bikes over large stones through tall grass. We're surprisingly nimble, even with the heavy packs on board. We 
set up camp and then tear around on the bikes in the remaining day light, shooting down old ruts, through a 
muddy meadow, over trash piles at a dump, and then sit on the river bank for sunset. Bats are out, large spiders 
hide in the rocks, and we notice that our clothes are covered with burrs. Sky walks into the river to wash his 
shoes after stepping in a diaper back in the dump.<br/><br/>

The next morning, we take down the tent and secure our packs to the bikes, a routine we'll perfect over the rest 
of the trip. To get back up to the main road we have to charge up a narrow path of loose rocks. Sky flies up, 
pack dragging behind him like an anchor, and he looks back just as the bike drops on the ground. We re-tie the 
packs, then head back to the bike dealership. I have it marked on my GPS, which is strapped over the gas tank of 
the bike, so we take an irregular path on roads and alleys, not knowing what's around the corner but also 
certain of where we're headed. We get the bill of sale and we're off. We take a road parallel to a highway, then 
get lost in a farming village, taking narrow foot paths along rice paddies that eventually lead back to real 
roads. We have a map, but no streets seem to be marked, so we navigate by keeping a constant heading relative to 
the sun. At nightfall we're at a town just on the edge of the mountains, and find a cheap hotel. After checking 
in we go on a night joy ride, and head towards the center of town.<br/><br/>

I'm on a highway when the bike starts smelling strongly of gas. I stop, and the carburetor is leaking a huge 
puddle on the ground. I try to start the bike again, and it won't catch. So much for new things being reliable. 
Eventually it catches, and I make it about a kilometer before it really dies. I sit with Sky for a while, 
thinking of what to do next, and then decide to use his bike to tow mine back to the hotel. We have the cordage 
used to tie the packs, and I make a loop that I can grab with both hands, and tie the other end to his bike. 
However, I have to throw it over the headlight if I want to disconnect, and after a near-crash decide this is 
too dangerous. Instead, I put the cord between my teeth and tell Sky to pull me. He's reluctant to do it, but 
I'm convinced this is safer, since I have both hands free and the cord won't catch on anything if I let go. He 
pulls off slowly and we move along at a steady pace. We make it back to the garage fine and I spend the night 
wondering how to make the fix.<br/><br/>

In the morning, the hotel owner brings over a mechanic friend, who quickly pulls off the bottom of the 
carburetor, sprays the insides with a cleaning solvent, and then reassembles it. Everything works fine. 
Apparently it was leaking out through some kind of relief valve that operates when things inside are stuck. We 
find a road into the mountains, and ride up past a huge dam, up a mountain, through a tunnel, and down into a 
small town on the other side. It turns out we've gone the wrong way, so we turn around and head towards another 
road. The rough dirt road we're on leads to a beautiful new bridge, and then a poor dirt road on the other side. 
We stop for popsicles and create a sensation at the restaurant. A small kid is so transfixed by us that he walks 
off a ledge and falls over, drawing laughs from the others. We follow a main highway through the mountains at 
first, and it's packed with impatient cars and tour buses. The road itself is nice, winding along the mountains 
above a lake, but the traffic is miserable. At one point, we ride on the shoulder past kilometers of stopped 
cars, and past the accident at the front. We stop to eat in a town where trucks drive between the buildings at 
freeway speed, blasting air horns to clear out pedestrians. The Chinese are unfazed but I'm infuriated by the 
noise. With relief, we turn onto a dirt and sand road, zipping past cars. The dirt bikes are perfect for the 
terrain. Eventually the road improves and we're making good distance, moving alongside a river, with steep 
cliffs covered with pines above. Confronted by a bus on a narrow section of road, I try to squeeze by on the 
shoulder, which collapses, and I struggle not to dump the bike into the woods alongside the road. Sky comes back 
to lift me out, and we get just past a hotel around nightfall. We cross a steel wire and wood plank bridge to 
find a campsite near some grazing cows. A cow walks over and we're hit by a swarm of the largest flies I've seen 
in my life - maybe 3 times bigger than your average housefly. They don't make noise or seem to bite, but they 
are inclined to land on us. After setting up the tent, we return to town for a drink, and spot the some rare 
foreigners here to see the pandas.<br/><br/>

The next day we continue along the river through pine forest, and then the road cuts in switchbacks up the 
mountain side. I notice the bike is running a little rough, and is feeling weak - maybe the altitude. I check on 
the GPS and we're already at 10,000 feet. We stop to put on warm clothing and eat chicken in a village of just a 
few houses. With long underwear and windbreakers, Sky says "We'll be warm in no time", but the next section 
proves him wrong. We keep climbing, up past the tree line into tundra. The bikes weaken further, and we crawl up 
the switchbacks into the clouds, our fingers freezing. We stop at about 14,000 feet and Sky screams manically at 
a herd of yaks, which eye him warily. At just under 15,000, we make it over the pass, and the sun appears 
through the mist on the other side. We try going straight down the mountain instead of weaving through the 
switchbacks, but it's too rocky to be practical. Now warmer, we coast down back into forest, and finally roll 
into a sizeable town. It's 2 pm but we're both drained from the riding. After lunch in a hotel, we go upstairs 
to see about a massage, but it's too expensive. Sky chats with some workers from the hotel, and I slip out of 
consciousness in a soft chair. An hour later, I come to, and we drink some Red Bull, which comes uncarbonated in 
China. We make a final push to the next town, and keep descending along a river. We're sprinkled with light rain 
on our way out, and then dry off in warm sun. I'm wary of storms ahead, and keep an eye on the sky. Not long 
after, we see dark clouds, and the rain starts again. Moving down the road, I spot what looks like rain dripping 
off a tree, as I ride into it, I'm pelted with hail. For about two kilometers we're stung by it, and then it 
ends so abruptly that I turn around to watch the edge of the storm recede. Now completely drained, we get into 
town, find a nice hotel with a hot shower and laundry, and sleep.<br/><br/>

The next day, we're really in the country - miles of empty mountains and forest, then a few buildings with 
people who yell "Hello!" and wave as we go by. The terrain turns rockier, and we continue to drop in altitude to 
about 6,000 feet. After just 80 km, we are at our destination for the day, Danba. The city is built on either 
side of a large river, pressed up against the mountain side. A few large bridges span different sections of 
river, connecting the town. We stop at a park to decide what to do next, and get offered a tour by a local girl. 
She's decked out in the traditional headress, which looks like something out of Star Wars. We agree to pay her, 
and we take her to the first stop on the back of Sky's bike. We pull off at a marked scenic view point, and 
there are some prayer towers visible on the opposite side of the valley. As we stand there, taxis pull up with 
Chinese tourists, who dutifully pull out cameras and take photos of the thing you're supposed to take photos of. 
We've already seen these towers all along our ride, and being on the tourist track is demoralizing. We don't 
want the tour anymore, but we already have the guide. I suggest taking the bikes up past the towers to look for 
a campsite in the mountains above, but it's only foot paths. Sky draws out a popsicle, and asks our guide to 
take us to some. Once we have the popsicles, we leave our guide, and find a hotel. Again we roam around on the 
bikes in the remaining daylight, following a road up a mountain to some stone house village. They want to charge 
us $4 each at the enterance, so we just hang out at the gate instead, befriending the locals. A girl jumps on 
the back of my bike, says "Let's go!", and then shrieks as I start to roll down the hill. On the way back, we 
check out a dirt road under construction, that cuts back and forth up the steep mountain face. I practice 
slamming the bike down a few gears as I approach each turn, then using the throttle to make the rear wheel slip, 
banking the bike and countersteering around the turn. At the top we find a bulldozer and a road crew, and then 
return in dusk. I spot a sandy section on the side of the river, so we practice figure eights with the bikes, 
leaning them over in the soft ground. Finally, we are back in town for food and sleep.<br/><br/>

After breakfast the next day, I want to head for a town with nice forest and lakes, as pictured in a poster in 
one hotel. The terrain has been nice but there's no real hiking, since the mountains are so steep. Sky is 
reluctant to hike in somewhere and camp, since it will take a few days, and the town is 60 km down a dead-end 
road. Eventually I win him over, and we head out on a road that immediately turns into rough dirt and rocks. The 
riding requires complete attention and is draining - turns with slippery gravel, deep sand, potholes and ruts 
everywhere. I'm constantly fixed on a spot about 15 meters ahead, picking the line of least resistance through 
nasty terrain. But as we get deeper in the valley, we're rewarded with thick pine forest and waterfalls and 
rapids in the river below. We make a turnoff and the road is even rougher, studded with rocks and flooded by 
streams in places. We feel more energy as we close in on our target though, and take turns racing past each 
other, standing up on the pegs, beating the suspension at the limit of control. My chain flies off from the 
vibration, and Sky flies off the road and dumps the bike. Riding into town, we're struck by mountains all 
around, clear streams, and rolling meadows. We survey the town, then ride up a hill on the bikes to make camp in 
a meadow next to a creek. We spot caterpillars that glow brightly like green LEDs. All night, prayers play out 
over a speaker.<br/><br/>

We decide against hiking in with the packs because it would be too tiring in the thin air, but we go on a day 
hike instead. We pick a mountain and follow a creek up, finding a trail that leads to a large meadow. A field of 
prayer flags is set up in the middle, and we wave to the people living nearby. We continue up, and then lounge 
near a stream, and then on some soft ground in the shade of trees. We feel a few drops of rain and start back 
down, since our gear has been left out exposed. Despite a few gray clouds in the sky, it stays sunny, and we 
walk back down to cook noodles and drink coffee. I find a new campsite that's on flatter ground and is right 
next to a river that will drown out any prayers put on loop for the whole night. Once night falls, we ride the 
bikes to the one restaurant we've found, which is in a medieval group of buildings surrounded by a stone wall 
perimeter. Chickens, goats, pigs, and a ram roam inside. The ram seems friendly, and enjoys being scratched 
behind his ears, but then becomes persistent, chewing at our pants when we stop giving attention. Then, he takes 
off after the pigs, which squeal in fright as he rams them from behind. We eat in a dim room with newspapers 
plastered to the wall, which nonetheless has a TV and VCD player. A bus full of tourists from Shanghai arrives, 
and a woman sits next to us, playing a racing game on her handheld Playstation. This grates on me and I gladly 
get on the bike and ride back through the cold, taking a technical windy shortcut to the campsite. The moon 
comes over the mountains, lighting the clouds from behind to suggest a volcano. I drink more coffee next to the 
tent and lie awake, thinking in the peace of the woods.<br/><br/>

On the way out the next day, we're invited to eat with another guy camping by the side of the road. Sky talks in 
his now decent Chinese, and I do stretches to ease my back. On the ride out over the same rough road we're 
moving fast, and a little impatiently, and my bike develops a clunk on the front end after slamming into a ditch 
I didn't spot in time. Over the rest of the ride, I slam on the front brake to induce the clunk, trying to feel 
if it's in the fork legs, crown, or headset. Once there's a problem on the loose like this, it's impossible for 
me to have peace of mind. Not focusing on the riding enough, I move to pass a villager walking down the road, 
and she cuts in front of me at the last second, forcing me to skid to a stop. A while later we take a break from 
the riding, and bathe in the river naked, as local custom dictates. Exhausted, we pull back into Danba, and eat 
snacks outside a general store. We've both been cooked from the intense sun. I find a repair shop for the bike, 
and it's the headset after all. A small adjustment makes everything tight again, and after some more gas, we're 
back on the road. We move back to higher altitude, swerving up a valley with huge granite cliffs above, and a 
raging stream at the bottom that rushes around huge boulders. Around one corner, we look down a wide valley at a 
lone snow-covered peak in the distance at's probably over 20,000 ft at the summit. It gets colder as we climb 
into tundra, with huge mountains covered by green living carpet. Sky spots a small dirt path going up one 
mountain, and we take the bikes up, but they don't have the strength at this altitude to get up the last 
section. We walk up further, pass a nomad with his horse, and then continue to the peak nearest us. The full 
moon rises, and we ride to our goal for the night in darkness, keeping close to overlap the headlights. As we 
near town, all we can see are the silhouettes of the mountains against the sky, and bright streams reflecting 
moonlight. We pass an animal I've never seen before, something like a raccoon or a possum, with stripes on its 
face. In town we find a restaurant with good food, and nod hello to another group that comes in. Then a pack of 
monks mob the other group, which apparently includes a famous singer. We find a hotel for $1 with elaborate 
Buddhist artwork on the ceilings and bedding, then listen to rats scrambling through the walls and ceiling all 
night.<br/><br/>

The next day we stroll around town, eating the cheap and ever-present popsicles and taking in the sights. As a 
small detour out of town, we check out the stone forest, an outcropping of weathered gray rock in the soft green 
mountainsides. On the way out, a family living in tents watch us, and the kids splash us with water from the 
river, laughing hysterically. I try to zip past on the dirt bike, but slide out and drop the bike on the loose 
river bank, paralyzed while they continue to splash me. On the way out, we have to rocket up a steep narrow 
trail along a mountainside, and Sky evens up the bike-dropping count by plowing his into the side. Some kids at 
a booth that was empty try to charge us $6 admission, and we reluctantly give up $2. We give a couple of monks a 
ride back into town on the back of the bikes and prepare to leave. Tying the gear to the bikes draws a crowd 
that watches silently, expect for two curious girls. They ask a few questions in English, and give their names, 
which are unpronouncable to me. One girl says, "We think you are" "...cool", interrupts the other, and then 
"...handsome" says the first. We ride off, and I turn to wave, careful not to crash into anything in the 
process. We pass a pack of motorcycling monks, and then make our way across huge green fields between mountain 
ranges, reminding me of Montana. We hit a section of nasty road, loose soft dirt with many rocks, and the 
dreaded headset rattle returns. Back on paved road, I cram another hitchhiker on the bike between me and the 
pack, and after a few miles, Sky finds a monk to carry as well. We move past waving school children to come to 
Daofu, drop off our passengers, and find a hotel to hide from the sun in. As we do laundry in the sink outside, 
a convoy of SUVs pulls up and Italian tourists jump out, pointing their camcorders at random passersby. 
Thankfully, the guides tell us they'll leave early tomorrow to continue to Lhasa. We hang the laundry to dry, 
find something to eat, and roam the town at night, drawing many greetings of "Hello!". When we come back to the 
hotel, we discover it's been locked completely, with the gates shut and metal shutters rolled down. We scale the 
perimeter wall, move past a barking dog, squeeze over the spikes on the top of the gate to the staircase, and 
flop into our beds.<br/><br/>

After so many riding days, we decide to rest in town for a while. Waking up late, we eat in the restaurant in 
our hotel, and then find a repair shop for more motorcycle fixes. We borrow a few tools, and fix the bikes on 
the sidewalk. I tighten the headset, clip off a sensor that keeps the engine from running when the kickstand is 
down, and saw off an the part of the gearshifter that I've been hitting accidentally when I stand up. Then we 
look for an ATM, and find there are none. At the bank, they want nothing to do with my credit card, and tell us 
the nearest place that takes a Visa is 100 km away. We check around town to see if anyone takes credit cards, 
thinking they can charge us for a non-existent item and give us cash, but the guy at the gas station just looks 
at the hologram with fascination, then hands it back, not recognizing it as a form of payment. We're low on 
cash, so we're committed to driving to the town with the ATM, even though it's backtracking the last piece of 
our drive. Now we're resting at the internet cafe, resting up for the trip ahead and hopefully not burning too 
much of our cash reserve. Tomorrow we're on the bikes again...<br/><br/>