Mao Zedong said: "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Brice Minnigh said: "A journey of four thousand miles begins with a broken chain."

Luckily, Brice got the chain replaced, and we continued our journey across China. Several thousand miles west of Beijing, we arrived at a remote outpost called Dunhuang on the edge of China's Lop Nor Desert.

This is the story of our attempt to cross that desert, and retrace the route of the ancient Southern Silk Road, today labeled "313" on the map.

Day 60
October 7, 1995

Excellent rest and eats in Dunhuang. Set off for Southern Silk Road -- to highway 313 near Aksay, reach it at 9 pm. Eat noodle and sneak through checkpoint on 313. Drag bikes off road down gully, find cozy sand, sleep out.

Day 61
October 8, 1995

Pack up. Cycle in sheer desert, looking for city at 50 clicks: not there. Map's wrong. Accept reality by 2 pm. No lunch but carrying plenty of water. By 3 pm catch sight of forest 15 km off the road. It's an oasis.

Truck climbs from oasis -- warns us against road on into Xinjiang: no people, no water; hasn't been fixed in ten years; only used in time of war (?!); work crews went in with minimum of two vehicles. Now it's abandoned, covered with sand.

Detailed map wrong about every town so far; other two say there's nothing for 200 more clicks. Descend into oasis... eat at store (good one!), eat at canteen (2 bowls each), not enough, back to store. Teachers take us to dormitory to chat, warn us against road: no people there, only desert; no road, only desert.

Day 62
October 9, 1995

We pause for reflection: go or not? Minimum of 200 kilometres of nothing. One water bladder/day is the minimum we'll be able to ration if we go for it. But we like the fact that pigs are not a factor on 313. Worth it? Backtrack would cost us 300-400 kilometres and TIME. So we go to Nan An Ban. See ghost town where village should be, real thing appears two kilometres later, hidden in the mountains.

A kind man gives us a bottomless bowl of mutton broth and biscuits to dunk in it, plus a big bowl of lamb on the bone -- delicious. Even this was not enough, but it was a lot and we were thankful. He gave us a bag full of the biscuits to take on the road.

People in Nan An Ban tell us the same thing about the road: no good, not maintained, no water, no people. Go back east to Aksay then on 315 west. That's the only way people go. Without exception, every person we asked said they'd not gone west themselves. Village official offers to have us over for breakfast the next day.

Day 63
October 10, 1995

At 9 a.m. the official came and led us back to his home, which we found delightful: central Asian furnishings and decor. There we could eat and hydrate to our fill, and come away with another bag of biscuits.

He was sure we could find shepherds down that road, and estimated there would be people at Xorkol. Got more food provisions in town, filled all the water bladders and canisters, ate noodles and left for 313. Headed into the Lop Nor Desert full of adrenaline. More stealth towns.

By nightfall, road takes a turn into the mountains, leaving the desert behind. Have a dinner of steamed bun and cookie. Failing to bump into any shepherds, spend the night in a cold ravine. Didn't sleep.

Day 64
October 11, 1995

Found the shepherds but filtered only a little helping of water for fear of contamination from the sheep. Shepherds say they've never been west of here and don't have any idea what we can expect. We press on.

Mile markers change shape and mileage number. Road takes us high into the mountains, where we cycle through bowl after bowl, up and up. Dusk brings hellacious winds, and the question: where are we going to sleep? Should we push the bikes through the night to keep warm? We find a stream bank and hollow out a notch at the bottom of it. Keep warm enough with all the clothes on in the sleeping bag.

Day 65
October 12, 1995

We soon could see that it was a destroyed structure.Stopping to investigate the structure, Brice said to me,,based on his analysis of the map He thought it was Xorkol.W and proposed that only one of us need cycle up to the horizon. We couldn't afford to waste calories.

"Please let there be a town up here!" I prayed. Finally, I got the horizon I was looking for. A huge plain connected me with a chain of soaring peaks ahead, their bases draped in snow like a towel. An icy blue wind swept this plain, urging on my retreat. The sun stood chilled behind a sinister cloud wrapped around a mountain to my left. The scene grew bleaker by the minute. My hopes had been dashed: the 3-way junction was indeed Xorkol.

I beat a hasty retreat, screaming down the series of hills. Brice was making his way up, too cold to sit still and wait. "That way's suicide!" I screamed to him over the gale-force winds. "We're going south in the morning! Let's get back to that house!"

Back at the house, we found a wall to guard against the wind. But there was no stopping the cold. Body heat slipped through the clothes and sleeping bag and into the frozen air; more heat was lost to the cold ground. Still, we were warm enough to stay alive. W

Luckily, Brice slept. I could hear him saw logs. It was a relief. I stayed deep in thought, calculating and considering our options. "We're so panicked," I thought. "We should just go back east. Yes, that would mean two more days on this God-forsaken plateau, but we'd reach the shepherds in two days. We could eat, have shelter, return to Nan An Ban, then take a bus to Aksay and another into Xinjiang on 315. We wouldn't have enough time to re-cover the distance on bicycle, but it seemd like the conservative, assured thing to do. It would mean almost sure suvival.

Around 5 a.m I heard Brice moving. I struck up the proposal, and we discussed it and the other two alternatives:

-->South, to Highway 315, which was indicated only on one map. It was 79 kilometres to 315. The down-side was that it seemed it would disappear; we had looked at the tracks already, and they were faint, and not visible on the mountain slope they ascended. What if we lost the road up there?

-->West, on 313 to a pass at 56 kilometres, and then immediately downhill, quickly returning to warmer elevations. But this way --What if the pass was snowed-in? didn't make it over the pass in one day

We also had to consider if the maps were right

Neither of us favoured going east. We couldn't accept losing so much time. So it was down to south or west.

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