2002-05-16

The long, long road to Beijing

Our destination today is the city described as "north capital" by its kanji characters. Beijing, also known by its old name, Peking. We are excited in anticipation of seeing Tian An Men Square, The Forbidden City and The Great Wall.

We didn't get far when I noticed the headlight growing dim and the instruments failing. The KLR's battery wasn't charging. We must revert to jump-starting the bike every time I stop. Our electrical guru had assured us that everything was fixed and the battery was charging. I paid their asking price, a fortune by Chinese standards, and even gave him a substantial tip as I suspected that his boss would keep the lion's share of the repair fee for himself. Now I felt like a fool. And a fool with a maddening electrical problem that just won't go away.

But very soon the electrical problem would be the least of our worries.

We were riding in a convoy through a small town when our group became separated. There's nothing unusual in that. It's difficult to keep so many motorcycles together in chaotic China traffic and stops are frequently required to let everyone regroup. We stopped but no one came this time. It was thought they might have missed a turn so we headed back to find them. Instead we found Mike Paull's yellow R1150GS down in the road and Mike near it. He had an accident and was dazed but he was standing up and appeared to be alright. There were already at least a hundred onlookers crowding around and more coming.

It wasn't clear what was the cause of the accident but the important thing was that Mike seemed to be ok. An ambulance arrived shortly and the doctor examined him on the spot. He insisted Mike come to the hospital to be checked out.

Mike climbed into the ambulance under his own power and managed a smile before they took him away. This photo shows something wonderful about Mike's character. He is always smiling!

Onlookers stand back to clear a path for the ambulance.

We took Mike's motorcycle to a nearby gas station. Helge and Jim attempted to straighten out the handlebars with the use of a shovel as a lever.

A group effort trying to straighten the handlebars.

The police came to interview witnesses and prepare their report on the accident. This policeman was interested in our motorcycles and more than happy to pose. I wanted to get his picture on my KLR but just as we were getting set for the photo his superior came by and scolded him. No more photos!

About this time there was a car accident in the same location as Mike's accident. It seemed very strange but it must have been just an unpleasant coincidence.

A dusty man of the shovel brigade. We saw many many men on bicycles carrying shovels.

I tried to get this baby to sit on my bike but he was terrified and cried loudly to his grandmother. The babies are fightened of us. We must look very strange to them. Jim Hay had a good idea bringing his balloons. The kids love them. I will remember that for my next visit.

We decide to go to lunch and give the doctors time to examine Mike before we go on to the hospital. Everyone is quiet and downcast at lunch but we are hopeful that Mike will be ok.

I exercised one of the very few phrases I know in Chinese and said "hello" to the owner of the restaurant as I walked in. She immediately turned to someone else and said,"He speaks Chinese!" Uh, oh. From that point on she always looked directly at me me when she was speaking to the group but of course I couldn't understand a word she was saying. Strange. It didn't seem to matter though. She fed us well and she got some photos of her unexpected foreign guests.

Another large crowd quickly materialized as we arrived at the hospital to check on Mike.

Rick is sitting at the controls of a three-wheeled taxi outside the hospital. The driver is in the passenger seat.

People seemed to think Rick and I are brothers. We both have brown hair and blue jackets! They point to the gray streak in his beard and the tufts of gray in my own hair as proof. Rick and I enjoyed the idea so, ok, no argument, we're brothers. Everyone is satisfied.

Standing outside the hospital. I offered to hold this baby for a photo but he was terrified of the foreigner and would not let go of his grandpa.

How to make a taxi. Ingredients: One motorcycle, running condition. One cart with two wheels. Some plywood and clear plastic. Chop off the rear wheel and rear frame of the motorcycle. Attach it to the front of the cart. Install the original rear sprocket on the axle of the cart. Construct a small cabin from plywood and plastic. You've got yourself a taxi!

Look closely at the truck carrying this load of ducks. It has only one front wheel. Very common in China.

Mike in the hospital. We learned he had three broken ribs, a broken collar bone and possibly a punctured lung. His journey is over. Everyone feels terrible for him.

We gathered his things from his bike. Mike will remain in the hospital until it's safe for him to fly home.

We still don't know for certain what caused his accident. Mike thinks he was hit from behind but he didn't see another vehicle and no one else saw the accident as it happened.

Mike's R1150GS is loaded on a truck. It will be shipped back home.

We are all feeling depressed about what's happened to Mike and we are going to miss him terribly.

Now we have a new problem. It's getting late and it isn't clear if we can make it to Beijing tonight. Helge thinks we should try but I am concerned about driving at night without a headlight. We decide to go anyway with the provision that if it becomes too unsafe I will stop.

Another minor crisis hits. My speedometer drops to zero and I can see the speedometer cable dangling free. I was lucky it didn't slip completely loose and catch something. I pull over, quite conscious of the burden that I am already putting on everyone, and reconnect it. Please, no more bike problems today!

We're having a difficult time with directions. It would have been a straight shot to Beijing on the highway but we aren't permitted to ride there. The rural roads go from village to village and there is frequent construction that requires detours. The driver of our lead car doesn't really know the way and getting him to stop for directions isn't easy. Is it a universal truth that all men are reluctant to ask for directions?

Even when we get directions it isn't as helpful as you would expect. I suspect many of the people we ask have never been much further than the villages nearest their home. One of them thinks a bit, points one way, thinks again, and points the other way. Finding Beijing is proving to be a challenge. We stop by a roadside restaurant at an intersection and ask a young couple which turn to take. They disagree and it immediately starts an argument between them. I have a feeling they are the kind of couple that would argue about anything.

It's getting worse. My engine is overheating and we have to stop and pour water on it to cool it down. The sun is sinking now and these stops only make it more difficult to reach Beijing tonight.

Bad directions, no lights, an overheating engine. But we'll get there and I remind myself to reserve my sympathy for Mike who is laying in pain in a rural Chinese hospital. For us this is just an obstacle to overcome but for Mike.... his trip is over.

The sun sets and we still have a long way to go. What's worse than driving through Chinese traffic? Doing it at night without a headlight!

Jim Hardin suggests that I take his spot behind the lead car and he and another rider flank me so I can see with their headlights. It works. These guys are watching out for me. The only problem is intersections when the crossing cars can't see my bike. But I tell myself that being invisible in Chinese traffic might even be an advantage. After all, they can't hit you if they can't see you!

When we reach Beijing it becomes apparent that we are having trouble finding our hotel. We're driving in circles. Everyone is exhausted and depressed and there's no patience for being proud and resisting help. David Wilde shouts out, "Get a f***ing taxi!" At last, the lead driver hires a taxi and we are on our way to the hotel. John Shelton says the theme of this trip is 'The Lost Guides of China.'

Finally, nearly sixteen grueling, miserable hours after our departure this morning, we arrive at our hotel in Beijing.