Even with Dr. M's vastly greater experience at taking all the duvets and folding them into a more mattress like surface, sleeping on a kang that isn't currently all warm and cozy from having a fire lit in it is a decidedly non-luxurious experience.

Similarly fully awakened by a need to pee and an unwillingness to avail herself of the chamber pot, she's up enough earlier than I am to discover that Mao also once spent the night here and that this town's local place that He once slept is not so developed as to have acquired things like Decorative Farm Equipment or fake horses.

There's a courtyard of probably a dozen 50 or 60 year old constructed yaodong¹ near the entrance to the village that are getting a beautiful facelift which speaks to the likelihood of future such developments and maybe even plumbed toilets.

With my body deciding that morning oatmeal is unnecessary for the peristalsis that sends me back across the street to the pit toilet, I skip breakfast. However, an unnoticed slow leak and a flat tire acquired overnight that doesn't want to come off the rim so I can patch it kills enough time for Dr. M to finish the brief she was supposed to be writing all week and to put both of us in a mood for lunch on the very real chance that there will be no food before Wubao County.

It was probably a good decision. 

There were noodles available in the next town, but all other signs of civilization are on the other side of the river and, at 60y per bicycle to cross—even if it does mean getting to say we took a ferry across the Yellow River—the functioning ferry we run across isn't that attractive to us².

Today has less Interesting Things than yesterday. Lots of ferryless crossings with signs about how Yellow River Ferries are a local Intangible Cultural Heritage item or how this specific crossing was like really, really, realllllllly important for moving munitions during the Chinese Civil War; a camel; a camel on our side of the river; a Red Tourism Site named "Red Tourism Site"; a petrol station that has lodging.

Other than the ferry, the site that takes up the most time is probably the Li Family Graveyard on account of us trying to figure out the sequence of events leading to a marker stone with a rather mishmashed 'history' of people surnamed Li and that clearly indicates that we are in a graveyard, but no graves; and no sign of demolished graves.

Dr. M's best educated guess is that there was a graveyard here, it got relocated when the road was widened, a pocket park was put in, the park stopped getting maintenance or attention, and the Li Family came back and put up a marker. It's as good as any other theory. 

I'm mostly just happily surprised to see a small fire extinguisher at an outdoor site where people burn incense and joss. 

Over dinner in Wubao I realize that my train, which I had thought to be the day after tomorrow, is only a bit less than 7 hours after Dr. M's midnight departure, so, other than it just being the polite thing to do, it is now completely necessary that I join her on the ride to the train station. 

On the one hand, both of us are at fault for not making sure the headlight was charged. On the other hand, we would have walked the Truck Hell no matter what.

The pitch black after we made the turn off was actually kind of calming with my finding the distant growl of the Death Machines a pleasant sound (on account of it being far and away) and Dr. M finding it unpleasant (on account of it being an aural reminder of our recent near death experience).

Living on the mainland, she takes way more trains than I do and wasn't at all surprised by Wubao Station being the sort of place that turns the lights off and closes up between trains. I'd've thought they'd at least let passengers into their pristine Waiting Room though I suppose not doing that is why it was so gently used. 

On the plus side, the enterprising individual who opened his own waiting room on the other side of the parking lot not only had beds, he was also willing to come wake people up when it was time for their train.

Somehow even harder than the brick kang, it was not a comfortable bed, but it was a horizontal place to lie down in the dark and, other than troubled dreams that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your House³ was watching me and smiling with very sharp teeth, I slept soundly enough.

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¹ Constructed yaodong are buildings, that may even be free standing, which were built in the same style as a cave house. They often even have arched interior spaces.

² Also, according to Dr. M's random number decision maker method prior to us going to watch them unload a car, we weren't supposed to be taking the ferry.

³ From "Welcome to Nightvale"