BROOKLYN TO BROOKLYN: China 5: Ningxia Province (and a bit of Gansu)

I made my way northeast towards the city of Yinchuan, the capital of Ningxia, and the city in which I planned to extend my visa for a final month. I went through a portion of Gansu which continued with the 'anti-mountains' from the post previous, and seemed to pour rain - all day, every day - which made the going very muddy. After I entered Ningxia the scenery went from lush green and wet to completely dry desert very quickly. The majority of the people here are Muslim, which means no pork, although I did notice a high level of alcohol consumption which is surprising. The inhabitants of Ningxia are much friendlier than the other Chinese Provinces I've passed through.

Ningxia

Lots more caves

This ultra-nice family flagged me down as I passed through their village and invited me to stay the night after a hot shower and amazing dumpling dinner.

This lady was so sweet and reminded me of my mother, her son looks at a photo of me on her phone and surprisingly does NOT start crying!

I watched nervously as this very short Chinese man took my horse for a ride.

The landscape all-of-a-suddenly changing into desert.

If you were a homeless nomad, this is what your belongings would look like after 3 days of rain.

Rolling desert

A big canyon carved into the earth

A big Mosque in a small village

A little grasshopper hitches a ride

A very emotional and challenging day came when I unknowingly entered a massive road construction site on a very rainy and muddy morning. I will break it down by hour:

1st Hour:

I noticed that there was absolutely no one else on the road after about 10km of cycling and then I started to go through patches of road that was ripped up and nothing but mud. Then came a point of complete insanity and I was surrounded by huge walls of mud. The road was so bad that I couldn't wear shoes, which were very heavy and completely saturated with wet earth, and pushing my bike was becoming very physically straining. "Man I hope this ends soon," I thought.

2nd Hour:

A local man on top of a cliff saw me struggling and came down to advise me to turn back. I could only make out the general idea of what he was saying and, being extremely hard-headed which I am, I insisted on continuing. He helped me push my bike for over an hour through never ending mud. We came to a point where the road completely ended and it was obvious that we were on top of a mountain's side and I had to get down to the town at the river below. I'm not sure what he was saying, but I bet it was "See, this is what I was trying to tell you."

3rd Hour:

The angel-like man and I slipped and slid down narrow paths of mud next to large and very dangerous cliffs to get down to the lower part of the construction where I could once again push my bike through the mud. There is no exaggeration in saying that the fact that neither he nor I got hurt or even worse was a complete miracle. We got to a point where the road split: to the right was the nice paved old road and to the left was more muddy madness. The man pleaded with me to go the muddy way and he decided to turn back when I insisted on going the paved way. I was so thankful that I tried desperately to give him money, but he refused and left. "What a wonderful human being," I thought.

4th Hour:

This is where things get ugly. In the now pouring rain I went down the paved road to find that it ended not even a kilometer later and found myself on a huge, carved-out, side of a mountain. I stupidly climbed through massive piles of mud, which came up to my upper thighs, and followed narrow paths of slippery mud which was certain death to fall from. I kept calm and my nerves were under control until I got to a point at which I was surrounded on all sides by cliffs. At the moment I realized that I had no where to go and I would have to climb back through that hell to get to where the man left me. I began to scream at the top of my lungs, I needed to release all of the built up frustration. At this point I remember thinking that I would leave my bike and pack a backpack of essentials (passport, money, etc.) and hike the hell out of there. I gathered myself and decided to just bear down, go back to the mud road, and get to the bottom of this f#$%'ing mountain. As soon as I started back I stepped on a piece of metal or something in the mud which caught my toenail just right and ripped it off.*

5th Hour:

I put my right foot's big toenail into my waist pouch and a strange thing happened: I knew that it hurt, extremely hurt, but for whatever reason I didn't feel it at all. Maybe because my brain instinctively knew that I needed every bit of focus I had to make it out of there. The caked on mud stopped the bleeding and I made my way, slipping and sliding, down never ending hills of mud until finally I got to a village, looking like a comic book monster, covered from head to toe in mud. The first building I saw was some sort of Army base and the guys there gave me a hose to rinse off with and fed me rice, for this I am forever grateful. My now hurting toe and I proceeded to the first dumpling house we saw and sat there for a couple hours eating several plates of piping hot dumplings.

*In the beginning of this mess, when I was going through small, easily passable patches of mud, I had an imaginary conversation which I often do on the road. This time with my father who, seeing the condition of the road and the rain says, "Mikey, What in the heck are you doing!?"
To which I philosophically reply, "Dad, sometimes you just gotta take what the road gives ya."
Several hours later when I was knee deep in mud with my toenail in my hand I saw a very clear image of my father's face: eyebrows raised, cheeks narrowed, and lips puckered as if holding back laughter and he said in the very sarcastic tone that we (his children) know so well, "Hey Mikey, just take what the road gives ya that's all."

I exploded into uncontrollable laughter for a good 20 seconds.

Shoes are completely worthless in the mud.

Caked on so thick that the wheels stopped turning, this actually proved useful and slowed me down when going down steep hills.

Mud stopping the bleeding from where my toenail once was.

As I washed up at the Army base I remembered that I'd kept my toenail.

In the last post I was complaining that China didn't have any coffee or marijuana. Well, I didn't find coffee but the desert in Ningxia did have...

Hey, wait a minute, I know that smell...

For those of you who aren't cannabinoids, it's kind of like winning the lottery.

Wild beauty blowing in the desert wind.

Harvest

Drying above my hammock

One happy camper

I floated into Yinchuan (capital city) very contently and got a room for a few days to extend my visa...

Yinchuan may be the most sprawling 'small' city I've ever been to, spanning over more than 12 kilometers

"Where is this old lady taking me?"

As soon as I arrive in any big city I immediately look for Internet so I can talk to my girl in Saigon. Miss you baby!!

I could tell by the food that I was in a part of the world with very harsh winters. Very hearty meals to be had in Ningxia, and of course, no pork.

On a cold day there is nothing better than a steaming hot sweet potato.

Noodle soup with tofu, braised goat, tomatoes, and onion.

This street food consists of various kinds of sausages and vegetables on skewers in simmering broth. One just gets a plate with sauce and pulls skewers out and eats them. I ate about 20 skewers for just over a dollar.