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Encounter with the police
I
start early the next morning, leave the ocean-sized lake and enter a big grassy
plateau. Cycling in a half circle on the left side brings me to a gate at the
top of a small hill. Below lays Rutog Xian, marked with an army of antennas.
I can see a checkpoint at the beginning of the quite big town, but it looks
deserted and the couple from Holland told me that according to their driver
this wouldn't be a problem to pass. The naive cyclist enters town, makes his
purchases at a well equipped store and takes a fast look at China Telecom, hoping
for an international line, but apparently not possible. Outside again, while
considering which restaurant to eat at, a small Han-Chinese man with glasses
suddenly asks for my passport in bad English.
Shit!
The guy is obviously a police man (PSB) in civilian clothing and several policemen
in uniform quickly form a small crowd around me, while I desperate try to figure
out how to get away. The best I manage to come up with is asking for a good
restaurant. Sure, just across the street and instead of just handing back my
passport, the crowd follows me inside the restaurant. Oh man, no good. I end
up being interrogated during half an hour for my "travel pass", the best they
find in the phrasebook they saw me using in the store. I play plain stupid and
keep on pointing at my passport with a big smile even though it is ever so obvious
a travel permit they want to inspect. I will first be able to obtain such one
in Ali and have in effect been traveling illegally. My food is served and suddenly
the crowd of policemen with glasses realize their own hunger and leave for a
small room where they apparently are used to eat.
I
swallow the delicious food like a cheetah with a lion approaching, grab my bike
and hastily push it outside and ride like hell out of town, wondering for hours
whether a landcruiser stocked with police will show up from behind. But nothing
happens and I begin to relax. My biggest problem becomes whether I took the
right road by turning left just outside town, but again I am lucky. I take a
break near some nomad tents and quickly a crowd of curious people gather to
inspect the bike and me. I end up pumping bicycle tires for three kinds in exchange
for photographing them.
The valley narrows
and the rising road becomes so stony in some parts, that riding is not possible.
Thinking to hell with this, to hell with that, my mood quickly deteriorates.
I want to cycle as long as possible today to shorten the distance I need to
do tomorrow to reach Ali. This major city is one of the 
midway
goals on the trip. I did the mistake of focusing on the whole 5100 km trip as
one unity at the beginning of the trip, but while lying ill with giardia I realized
by focusing only on the next small goal is it possible to accomplish the whole
trip. Camp in darkness just before a small river, hoping water level drops by
morning, but it rains throughout the night and the crossing becomes more difficult.
Much worse is the condition of my back. Felt like being electrocuted when trying
to change sleeping position and I begin to wonder whether I have to give up
riding to prevent permanent damage in my back. Somehow the pains are gone in
the morning but the problem is the same again at the end of the day. The damned
stove again makes it impossible to cook breakfast and I leave hungry, thinking
of all the food waiting in Ali at the end of the day. The sun burns down on
the valley and the temperature must be more than 30° C while I slowly make my
way toward food heaven. A small normal easy pass some 40 km before town becomes
a nightmare as I drag the bike up. Drink my last water on the top, where some
Tibetans try to load a truck on another truck for some reason. The downhill
is very sandy and suddenly a spoke breaks. Jesus Christ man - just too much,
but it is soon fixed. I cycle the last 40 very sandy kilometers without water
because I am to focused on Ali to stop for filtering water. I know for sure
I am close, when I see a military convoy followed by a taxi with soldiers.