Day 2:

I got up with the sun, it was a good day, warm, dry and not cloudy, just the haze of the Chongqing fog dulling the scenery. My plan was to head west. Maybe into Sichuan. The road I took this Saturday morning was pretty busy and got worse when I ended up on a side road that got increasingly muddy and full of gravel.




There was a brief moment of glory on a side road where I posed for some self-timer pictures that I sent home from my phone. Shortly thereafter I got stuck between a line of massive trucks carrying gravel.




I lost my balance twice, once at km 80 sitting on the stationary bike waiting for a truck to pass, when my boots lost traction on the gravel (the bike fell gently to the left, came to stop at about 45 degrees) the other time at km 100 when I was trying to pull the bike backwards from the road shoulder and I slipped again on the gravel (the bike fell to the right and came to rest at 90 degrees). That second time a little bit of gasoline dripped out of the tank, I'm not sure, maybe the lid is intentionally not airtight. I had struggled to pull the bike backward from the hard shoulder on the gravel, to the great amusement of passing families of three and four on smaller and much lighter motorcycles. I managed to right the JH600 and maneuver the bike back eventually and the frustration and self-pity soon passed when I was back on the road. Funny how that makes everything better. Still don't like gravel though.


That episode got learning to deal with the different horizontal positions out of the way. The 2011 version of the JH600 comes with an engine guard, which did its job. Writing about all this now on my phone, on the plane back to Shanghai, a few days and 500km later, it feels silly, I just did it wrong, like holding an infant for the first time. It's awkward. And this particular one has a healthy weight at birth.





The further west (and away from Chongqing) I got, the more the quality of the air improved and the haze retreated to reveal something of a blue sky. Being on a motorcycle I think is always a good thing, at any weather, but on those rare days when the air is crisp and the sun is shining, it can be glorious and nothing else matters in these moments. That morning, it was not quite like that, but getting there.





I had some dried tofu in one of these extended suburbs that are permanently under construction and just kept going west on minor roads. I changed google maps to sogou maps, they load better in China and there is an app that works pretty well. I went onto another set of side roads and felt much more comfortable with mud and gravel and without too many trucks. I saw some people eating and in my very limited Chinese asked if I could eat here, too. It turns out that it wasn't a restaurant but some kind of a party. I like to think that the truck drivers and their families had their weekend celebratory lunch there and in any case, I made my peace with them. I accepted a cup and a half of beer that I shouldn't have and a cigarette that I didn't manage to smoke very credibly but the warm and delicious food and the friendly group of people sent me off on my way in the best of spirits.


When my phone started running out of battery, I stopped in a small village road store to drink some milk tea drink and charge my phone. Sitting down on a bench I watched a group of children crowd around the motorcycle. My pathetic attempts at conversation as per usual ended up in an awkward smile on my side and laughter on the side of the kids. With the help of another Shanghai friend and my recharged phone, the communication the went something like this:


"Where are you going?"
- to Sichuan
Laughter
"This is Sichuan"
- Oh
- West!
More laughter
"No you're not, the bridge down the road is broken"
- Oh, maybe I will find a hotel
"There is a hotel"
- Great, where?
"After the bridge"
- Oh
"You need to take this detour"
"Let me write it for you"
- Thank you ^_^




Indeed the bridge was broken but I was guided around it by following a moto taxi that industriously ferried passengers stuck on either side of the bridge around. The detour led through a construction site and up a steep muddy path and I was retroactively grateful for the mud and gravel training of earlier in the day. By the evening, that morning episode seemed to have happened to a younger version of myself.


There really was a hotel, warm water, warm food, and before nightfall. I was in some small place in Sichuan, and in all the confused emotions felt something like the elation of being alive. The motorcycle was happy to, it got offered special parking in the dining room.