From the Library

[Biggles]

There were highlights to the day, the main one for me being the sense of peace I had when we stopped for lunch and watched a Uyghur man rolling out the dough to make naan bread in an oven. Another was talking about motorcycles to some Uyghur men in a small village. And another was riding up towards the clouds until we reached a high pass through the mountains, 3300 meters above sea level, where I looked around me at the incredible view with an almost poetic sense of accomplishment.
On the downside, we had a lot of problems with dogs that day. We'd be riding through an apparently completely deserted landscape when they'd suddenly come running at us, snapping and snarling at our heels and chasing our motorcycles as they tried to bite our legs. Once when it happened, Colin almost got caught: I don't even want to imagine what those dogs would have done if he'd fallen. I knew it was a problem that would get worse as we headed into Tibet, because I'd seen it there before, and that really bothered me.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p150-151

[Biggles]

There's a vast world beyond the tiny fragment that each of us inhabits, and going out into it is the only way to understand other people, their cultures and religions: you can't travel and have the sorts of experiences we're having without learning something from the interactions involved. We'd travelled 8000 km from Shanghai on a journey that was exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, rewarding, scary, fascinating, and, most of all, a privilege to be taking part in.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p158-159

[Biggles]

At the military checkpoint just outside Tashkurgan, one of the soldiers said, with a wry smile, "In the rain, on motorcycles: it isn't wise." But he handed us our permits and waved us through anyway, and we set off on what was to be a 260 km round trip. It was still raining and just 10° Celsius. Half an hour later, it was 3°, the rain had become frozen pellets of hail, and the temperature gauges on our bikes had started to flash a warning potential for ice on the road. After another half an hour, it was -2° Celsius and the hail stones were the colour - although not the consistency - of snow.
I can't even begin to describe what it's like riding in a hailstorm at -2° Celsius, 5000 meters above sea level. Colin and I are Canadians and we do a lot of skiing - quite often in the sun and always below about 2000 metres. There was no sun that day; just a bitterly cold wind and frozen hail. Riding a motorcycle in those sorts of conditions is a supremely miserable, uncomfortable experience.
 The visors on our helmets kept fogging up so that we couldn't see the road ahead of us, and our hands were so cold they were burning - the hand warmers on the handgrips on our bikes were only good to about 10° Celsius. Stupidly, we hadn't bought any of the really good waterproof clothing we'd seen in July at the shop in Germany, and as the wet seeped through our jackets and pants and turned to ice, we slowly lost the feeling in every part of our bodies.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p179-179

[Biggles]

They taught us how to fall during the training course in Germany and told us, 'Aim to hit the ground with your shoulders, because that's where all the padding is. 
Never put your hands down as you fall: if you do, you'll bust both your wrists. Just hit the ground and roll.' If you told ten people the same thing, maybe five of them would react correctly when the occasion arose; the other five would probably follow their instinct and reach for the ground with their hands. It all happens so quickly you don't really have time to think. Luckily, I did manage to hit and roll, so I avoided any really serious injuries: my shoulders and ribs were badly bruised, but I hadn't broken my collarbone.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p181-182

[Biggles]

When you're riding off-road on uneven terrain, the back wheel of the bike slews and bounces all the time, and if you sit down, your spine takes every hit. So, to avoid the risk of breaking your back, you stand up and let your knees, hips, arms, and elbows act as suspension. After doing that for 10 hours, every muscle in your body is screaming, and when you get up the next morning and do the same thing all over again, a pain develops in your back and neck that's like no pain you've ever experienced before.
On day 35 - our third day of riding on Highway G219 - we did 354 km, which is a serious haul over that sort of ground, and Colin and I began to feel more confident about our off-road skills. It felt as if we'd been battling the road and were finally beating it. All the riding we'd done since we left Shanghai had required little more than an ability to navigate; whereas what we'd been doing for the last 3 days had involved a different level of competence. We thought we were ready to tackle the Dakar!
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p196

[Biggles]

The first clutch that reached us - after we'd been waiting in Lhasa for 3 days - was the one that had been sent from Toronto via Hong Kong. Now all we had to do was fit it! Neither Colin nor I had ever done any major bike repairs before and the work took us two days. We wouldn't have managed it at all without the help of the guys in Toronto who sent us pictures and told us what to do, and without the support and assistance we received online from the motorcycle community.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p211

[Biggles]

I did a search for 'F800' clutch on a well-known motorcycle blog for adventure motorcyclists called ADVrider and, amazingly, came up with a complete DIY repair schedule. I printed it off at the hotel and when the guy from Hong Kong arrived with the new clutch, Colin and I put the pages on the floor beside us and followed the instructions step by step.
 I wrote a blog on the ADVrider site afterwards, saying that my brother and I were circumnavigating China on motorcycles and that the repair blog had saved our whole trip. The guy who'd written it, who goes by the online name of 'Lost Rider', posted a response, saying that he'd seen our website and thought what we were doing was awesome, and that he was glad to have helped.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p211

[Biggles]

A week earlier, we'd been on our way to Everest when we'd had to take a detour to Lhasa to get my bike fixed and hadn't known if we were going to be able to continue with our trip. We'd had to deal with frustrations, anxieties, and added costs, and then we'd had to backtrack more than 600 km. It had all been worthwhile, because it had led to the moment when I stood in the shadow of Mount Everest with my brother beside me. I was really proud to have made it there, despite everything, and I don't think there are words that can adequately describe the enormous sense of achievement I felt.
Colin and I have talked about that day many times since then, and we agree that it was the most exciting and challenging day we'd spent on the bikes, as well as the most memorable experience of our lives. It took us nine hours to cover 75 km of incredibly difficult off-roading at an altitude of between 4500 and 5200 meters above sea level. It's a road well never forget.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p229

[Biggles]

The fact that I'm still happy after riding more than 500 km in the cold and rain must say something - I'm not sure whether it's something about resilience, cussed determination not to be beaten, a previously unsuspected tendency toward masochism, or the pure pleasure of riding a motorcycle through some of what must be the most gorgeous scenery in China. The landscape we rode through today was what I imagine Vietnam or Cambodia to be like.
The road was great too. It was possibly the most impressive example of road building I've ever seen in my life. Instead of winding its way around mountains via a series of switch-backs, it cut straight through them - bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel. Sometimes it was like riding through the clouds. The mountains are a lush green colour, and there are lots of tiny villages that seem to be suspended in  mid-air. It was a wonderful ride - apart from the weather.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin & Ryan Pyle  p248-249

[Biggles]

My father even encouraged the project, more or less on the quiet. In his youth he had undertaken a similarly crazy journey - two thousand kilometres through Italy to the Ligurian Sea in 1905 on a motorcycle with no gears and no clutch! Carburation, ignition systems, the starting mechanism and slipping belt drives were the technical problems of that era. But the machine was amazingly reliable.
Far greater were the troubles caused by whip-lashing coachmen, shying horses, stone-throwing lazzaroni (beggars) and biting dogs. But the sensation he created was colossal - for example in Bologna: "The hotelier had the machine cleaned up and when I came into the restaurant, there stood the motorcycle next to the table that had been reserved for me. The numerous other diners were crowding round the vehicle whose red enamel and shining nickel trim made a grand spectacle".
My father described this sensational journey in various newspapers and it is delight to read of the patent starting mechanism, the ignition problems and of course, many tyre defects. In the final instalment of this 'account of a modern motorised journey' we read: "I had covered nearly two thousand kilometres and climbed over five thousand metres. It was a pleasure to contemplate the miracle of technology which had carried me like wings over hill and dale and which had justly earned the official rating 'Perfect'.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p1-2

[Biggles]

To this day I can't explain how it happened, but after only a few metres we ended up lying together with the bike in the ditch next to the customs house. The disgrace of it! I was horribly ashamed and the customs men were grinning all over their faces. Somebody muttered something about 'young fools' and a third party volunteered the following calculation, "It's sixty kilometres from Vienna to Kittsee. 13,000 divided by 60 makes 217 crashes. So you see," he opined cheerfully, "if this goes on all the way to India, there's not going to be much left of you."
We gathered up our pantechnicon. It was so heavy that I couldn't get it upright on my own. Helpers and onlookers stood around with serious and sad expressions. I noticed at once that the forks were bent but I said nothing about it and we both reseated ourselves on the monster.
Amid hesitant calls of "goodbye" and "be seeing you", I got the machine moving and succeeded in getting out of sight of our friends without falling off again. Thank God, the India Expedition was under way.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p21

[Biggles]

According to regulations, the Turkish military zone could only be crossed if we carried an armed soldier. We explained that, with our machine, this was impossible. 
We were promptly deposited, together with the bike, in the courtyard of an army barracks and abandoned like a suitcase in the left luggage office. After a few hours we gave in and realised that this was no way to get to India. We resigned ourselves to the impossible: a soldier took his place on the pillion and Herbert climbed up behind on the tent, and off we set, three up, bumping over the rough Turkish tracks. The strange load frequently threatened to tip over. My brow was bathed in sweat from sheer fear. At any moment I felt that the whole machine would break in half. I could not bring myself to consider such an ignominious end. "Did you hear what happened to those chaps who thought they could ride to India? Didn't even make it to Istanbul..."
I couldn't let it happen. I gritted my teeth and drove the double load in first gear at full throttle along the dusty track. This went all right as long as the steppe remained level, but then it became undulating, and on the first rise, we stuck.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p30

[Biggles]

The soldier was the good old-fashioned sort. His orders were to keep his eyes on us all through the military zone, and he intended to stick to those orders, however many days it took. Eventually we hit on a solution that suited him too. First, I would ride ahead carrying the soldier while Herbert followed behind on foot. 
Sometimes I'd go just a few hundred metres, sometimes over a kilometre, just as long as we could still keep Herbert in view. As soon as he was no more than a speck in the distance, the soldier would thump me energetically on the shoulders and point back suspiciously at Herbert. I noted with amusement that the fortifications hereabouts must have been massive but so cunningly concealed that we never saw a thing except grass and a couple of storks! But leaving Herbert too long to his own devices always ended up making our Turkish escort decidedly jumpy, so I would rush off and bring Herbert back under the watchful authority. Then the whole game would be played all over again.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p30-1

[Biggles]

Istanbul is certainly a city full of curiosities. It is also the city with the worst road surfaces. If you haven't seen this, you can't begin to imagine it. You begin by cursing Istanbul's streets, then comes enlightenment, born out of sheer necessity: you ride on the tramlines. Some people are of the opinion that this is dangerous with a bike, but once the initial nervousness has been overcome, it works like a dream, providing that the weather is dry and that you avoid the points. I was very pleased when I learned how to ride the tramlines. It proved to me that I was at last in control of our monstrosity of a bike. Riding tramlines is a sport with a charm all its own - you glide along the smooth ribbon of steel as if hovering on air, gazing contemptuously sideways at yawning pits and holes a foot deep.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p33