Cycling to Paris just to fulfill a dream
Su Yifeng’s father is from Qingdao but went to Qinghai to support border development when he was young. Su was born there and didn’t return to Qingdao until he was six. He has always had a special connection to the northwest and has long wanted to travel around different countries while he’s still young. Touched by his ambition, Uncle Li, who had only recently met him, decided to join the journey. Though they were strangers at first, they quickly became inseparable friends along the way.
Su Yifeng jokingly refers to their journey as a “tortoise and hare race.” Su usually pedals hard for a stretch, then stops to drink water and post updates on Weibo. By the time he’s rested, Uncle Li catches up. Uncle Li rides more slowly but hardly takes breaks. Both have cycled to Tibet before. Despite being over fifty, Uncle Li maintains a habit of winter swimming and is in excellent shape. He heard about Su’s plan to cycle to Paris on the radio and was determined to join him.
Uncle Li also serves as the comic relief of the trip, bringing plenty of laughs to Su Yifeng. A true Qingdao native, he doesn’t speak Mandarin well, so Su often has to translate for him. More often than not, people struggle to understand what Uncle Li is saying even after some thought. Since entering Xinjiang, Uncle Li’s accent has taken on a Xinjiang flavor, mixed with his Qingdao roots. And no matter where they go—whether it’s Dabancheng or Turpan—Uncle Li can always hum a local folk tune.
The duo’s bicycles were specially modified, especially the rear racks, as the original ones couldn’t support the weight of their luggage. Su Yifeng calculated that each bike carried an average of over 50 kilograms of gear. Simply loading it all would cause the rack to deform after just a short ride. Their luggage included not only camping equipment but also various small tools for bike repairs, as flat tires were a common occurrence.
My butt doesn’t even feel like my own anymore
Since they had to go to Beijing to apply for visas, although they started from Qingdao, their actual cycling journey began in Xi’an. From Xi’an to Urumqi, from June 18 to July 12, it took them nearly a month. Each day, they would plan in advance how far to ride, which route to take, and where to stay at night. But once on the road, getting lost was inevitable due to unfamiliar territory.
Originally planning to take National Highway 312, they ended up on National Highway 109 instead, adding an extra 40–50 kilometers to their day. Initially, they considered bringing a car GPS, but charging it was inconvenient, and the battery didn’t last long, so they switched to using maps and smartphone navigation. However, once they left urban areas—especially in western regions—the phone navigation wasn’t very reliable, often leading them to dead ends. On one stretch near Xinjiang, they were riding on a national highway when it suddenly disappeared, leaving only bumpy dirt slopes. They had to carry their bikes over barbed wire fences and ride on the highway instead.
On average, the two cover 80–90 kilometers a day, with their fastest day reaching 206 kilometers. Su Yifeng laughed that after biking that far, his butt didn’t even feel like his own anymore. They also frequently encountered harsh weather. The further northwest they went, the more they faced sudden strong winds and unexpected rainstorms. In Turpan, Xinjiang, Su experienced what extreme heat really means—the temperature soared to 47°C, making every step feel like sweat was pouring off him. Near Flaming Mountains, the ground temperature hit 73°C, and staff at the scenic area said it could reach up to 90°C, hot enough to fry an egg on the road.
Not only was there extreme heat, but also fierce winds. Traveling from Turpan, which sits below sea level, to Dabancheng, a small plateau over 1,000 meters above, the elevation change covered just a few dozen kilometers. Most of the way, they had to push their bikes. Especially near Xiaocaohu, where winds reached force 10, even going downhill was too difficult to pedal.