D16: 五指山营地 → 水满乡

January 31, 2025

There's this thing that quite well-to-do Chinese people, especially of the "like to travel" variety do that constantly leaves me beyond boggled. I call it "cosplaying at the 1970s" or "pretending to be poor." Whereas the people at the far lower end of the economic spectrum are doing everything in their power to get themselves the comfiest possible place to sleep, the white-collar folks with decent jobs and side hustles and investment portfolios will actively go out of their way to take a holiday someplace where they are paying extra for the privilege of being uncomfortable.

It's the case in Dongang where the 517 Cyclists' Hostel that I desperately want to love charges half as much per bunk (in a dorm with bathrooms down the hall) as I can pay for a whole hotel room (with two beds and the ability to sleep four) two kilometers away.

1970s era plantation gate that has been recently renovated to look bright and shiny

I really liked these probably authorized graffiti paintings

It's the case in Danzhou where the Cyclists' Hostel costs more than a hotel and doesn't even have cooking facilities or an associated bike shop.

And, just in case you were thinking it's just a biker thing, it was the same thing when the digital nomad hippy commune Serendipity Space in Wenchang was still open, and it's also the case with I don't know how many Chinese campgrounds that offer 'luxury' tent facilities that don't even include an air mattress, but which cost the same per night as the not very far away hotels that cater to the "wrong sort" of person.

Anyways, what I'm trying to get at is that, even though I wasn't paying for it, I really shouldn't have been surprised that the bed I was given in one of the former barracks buildings didn't have a mattress.

Back when this gate still had "no entry" signs that specifically said "no Foreigners," I'd always get really nervous taking the Nansheng Town route up to Shuiman

Detouring over to the no longer occupied base town in Nansheng, the not yet removed "Military, No Admittance" signs left me unwilling to take photos until I was on my way back out again

How cool are these cyclist specific road info markers?

And, no, I don't mean "it had a rock-hard mattress" like the abomination that Chinese Boyfriend put up with at the apartment he was using when I met him because he seemingly didn't care, I actually mean, it had no mattress.

At least the kang that I slept on the last but one night in Shaanxi had the redeeming quality of a bajillion comforters that could be folded under me in the hopes of waking up without bruises.

Feeling insufficiently rested, I try to push myself back to sleep but it doesn't work. Then, I get up, go up the hill to the area where all the partying was happening the night before, spend about five minutes completely freaking the fuck out because I can't find my bicycle (it had been moved from leaning against the cafe counter to a nearby porch), grab the coffee bag, and make a number of rounds of coffee before I realize that it's the mineral water in my bidon that's making it taste funny.

Traffic started getting less terrifying after the Red Canyon Rafting site

However, walls instead of shoulders make me nervous

Starting from the panicked moments of being unable to find my bike and continuing through the making of coffee and breakast, I get into a conversation with a random Chinese guy and small child who are somehow associated with the Zero Waste Hippy Commune that is also renting land from the same management company that has gotten permission to take over this large section of formerly military property. The evening before, I'd been all about going over there this morning and seeing what they're doing, but the way this guy has come up here to sit and zone, the little one's perpetually drippy nose, and the realization that I was going to have to find some way to turn down the offer I'd been made for a free hand poke tattoo¹, made me realize that I was perfectly happy staying up here, doing shit on my phone, and hoping that the woman who had taken my laundry off-site was going to wake up and bring it back early enough that I could make it to Shuiman.

Full grown poinsettia, and a drainage ditch perfect for crashing into

More poinsettia and a covered drainage ditch

She nearly didn't.

The hills themselves, or even the majority of the road to Shuiman aren't a problem. I stopped a fair amount. I stopped for reasons that went well above and beyond the scope of taking pictures of things or calming down after an asshole driver left me extra nervous. However, as the primary route between downtown Wuzhishan and the most famous of all of Wuzhishan's tourist attractions, it's a very over-trafficked road that's extra over-trafficked this time of the year.

I especially hated it when someone coming the other way would decide to overtake the seven or eight cars in front of him, come completely into my lane to do so, and honk at me to get out of the way. I've gotten into the habit of playing chicken and waiting until the last possible moment to move over to where I might fall into the drainage ditch, but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do. Stop and jump off the road into the bushes?

Narrow, winding road with steep curves ahead

Considering that I'd last been there for the 2021 Chinese New Year, I'm kind of impressed with myself for successfully finding Frank's brother-in-law's place. I'm also impressed with the number of his family members who recognized me, cause one of them showed me a photo of myself, Margaret, Sarah, and Jeanelle of us all standing outside the house from that Spring Festival and holy shit I know I gained a lot of weight going out and drinking beer with friends when stuff first started opening up again in Spring 2020 but I thought I'd lost most of it on the Fall Tour and that I'd hovered around that same 109-115kg range up until I started Ozempic at the end of last April.

I did not recognize the enormous curly-haired woman in the photo, but unless there was a forgotten foreigner who came with us and she somehow had been given my very unique necklace², it was me!

Toads of Doom on the gate to Maona Village

You can tell you're going to get the good hooch when it comes in a fancy bottle

I could skip the chicken that was killed and cooked for dinner. Although I've come to agree that they have more flavor, free-range birds are tough and difficult to eat. The pig trotters that were probably purchased meat also get a hard pass, but in this case because--as with every other damn time I try to eat them--I still can't fucking figure out how to get these delicious smelling bastards into my mouth. I've tried biting, sucking, licking, and all I end up with every time is bits of pork fat smeared on my face. The greens were good, as was the fish that they had caught. The insects were an interesting enough flavor/texture combo as to remain edible even after I realized they were bugs.

The rice, however.Oh lawdy lawdy. Grown in their own paddies, I don't even like rice most of the time and I could have happily had just that rice with some soy sauce and called it dinner.

Except, you know, it was the third night of Chinese New Year's feasting and "white rice with soy" is such an austere and poor meal that even a Buddhist Monk probably wouldn't eat just that.

¹ I'd cheerfully agreed to it the night before only to realize afterwards that they wouldn't be using single-use sterile needles in combination with the near certainty that they don't have an autoclave.

² Purchased from the Corning Glass Museum gift shop by someone who loves me very much, it's a Hershey's Kiss-shaped clear lump of glass that is so optically clear that, given where it was bought, is presumed to have come from an old fibreoptic cable cane

Today's ride: 35 km (22 miles)
Total: 1,076 km (668 miles)

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