I think the last time a stranger bought my meal for me while I was on tour was in 2014. I'm not sure. I remember the offer and I remember it being during the few days I rode with Tennessee. I just don't remember the outcome.

It's not something that happens often but it's definitely something that happens. And only when I'm biking. Someone else in the restaurant picking up my check. Maybe, like the guy who bought me breakfast today, they'll ask to take a picture with me but, sometimes, like the high school students who paid for my noodles one time in 2008, they just tell me as they are leaving that they paid for my food.

Unlike the people who try to give me money, I'm not bothered by this behavior. I think it's kind of sweet. I just wonder why. Especially the quiet ones who barely say a word to me. What do they get out of it?

Is this a way to vicariously dream about being able to do what I'm doing? Or something else? I wish I knew. I mean, I like to think that I don't look homeless. Considering that none of my warm outer layers have been washed in a while and that my last real attempt at bathing was three nights ago, I potentially fear that I might smell homeless but I don't think I look homeless.

So far this trip, I think the count for 'gifts from strangers' is 6 bottles of water, 1 bottle of fruit drink, and a breakfast. Second dinner at the police station in Xingren, on the other hand, doesn't count because, by the time that happened, we knew each other.

When I finally got out of bed yesterday and went to eat (around 5pm), I had two full plates of food and left the table stuffed to the gills. Considering that that, and a single candy bar, was all I ate all day yesterday, I ought to have lots of room for breakfast. However, both altitude and the medicine (which has a number of uses) I am taking for altitude adaptation are appetite suppressants. I pack up nearly half of the bao I ordered and stick them in my handlebar bag along with some road snacks (/lunch)  from a nearby store.

AMap suggests a route to Guyuan City that's not the main road and I jump on it only to find that it was once the main road at some point in it's existence. All the milemarkers are whitewashed over but, in places, I can see that, once upon a time, this was the S101. The current S101 is the road that is in the process of being turned into the G344 and, around here, is particularly truck infested.

Possibly, the road I was on is also one that often has trucks. The bike shop in Guyuan said the only reason it was mostly truckless is the bit of roadworks going on near the end. 

However, the bike shop in Guyuan also told me that I'd probably only be able to make it to Dawan Township (36 kilometers from Guyuan) and should give up all hope on making it to Liupanshan Town (13 kilometers further on) because "it's a steep uphill the whole way from Guyuan to Liupanshan" and, it not only wasn't particularly steep, it was only uphill sometimes, and had a number of long descents. I actually ended up coasting most of the distance from Dawan to Liupanshan. 

And I ended up getting into Liupanshan early enough that, if the bike shop (who were otherwise really lovely people) had given me correct road information, I would have had the time to consider a few detours. Not that there were a whole lot of detours to be made on this section. But I would have liked to have known that I wasn't in a race against the sun. That if I'd wanted to stop, I could have. And they told me I couldn't.

They also told me that a potential alt route was no good as it would be "just as trucky as the National Road". Now it turns out that this alt route is actually no good because it involves the use of a number of roads that only show up on my paper maps (and not on either Google or Amap) and because it would take me at least 100 meters higher in elevation than the National Road on a day when I'm already suboptimal but how is it possible to live somewhere and not know it? How?

It was a pretty enough day. The sun was out. I was warm in my thermals. The road dust mostly didn't trigger coughing fits. The worst reading I got off of the PulseOx was a 92. It's just frustrating that I spent my mental energy worrying about a race with the sun and instead got into town with nearly two hours to spare.

The first hotel I took a look at was probably going to check me in without registering me. They were super overpriced though. The second hotel was cautiously certain that he could not check me in, a little bit incredulous that I actually thought I was going to march on over to the police station and successfully tell them what to do, and quite impressed when I came back well within the "45 minutes or so" I told him it would take.

Overall, in terms of my wanting to do something they don't think is doable, I would say this was probably the most successful interaction so far. I wasn't mean. I didn't threaten anyone. I let them speak.

"Your system is broken. I've been given multiple different reasons by multiple different police stations which means whatever you are telling me is an excuse not a reason. I don't care why. I need this specific document. This is what it is called. You will give it to me."

And, they did.