Tracing the origin of riding in Yongding River (II)

Tracing the origin of Yongding River riding (I) | From the vicissitudes of Lugou Bridge and Sanjiadian.

Tracing the origin of Yongding River riding (I) | Nature is changeable and human beings are unpredictable.

After retiring from Longmenggou, we decided to cancel our accommodation in East huayuan town and go back to Beijing directly. I looked at the distance and time and said to my cousin, "The next road is not simple. I'm afraid I have to travel all night. "

"Nothing, walk and watch!"

With a fully charged riding flashlight and a full day's rest tomorrow, we look confident.

Although the schedule had long been expected to be tight, the two cyclists were still in a leisurely state, wandering in the mountains, unlike passers-by who were going to ride at night.

The Youzhou Grand Canyon is much quieter than the Juma River Valley where I went last holiday, but occasionally I deliberately see a few tourists from go on road trip camping on the beach. Probably because there are no paid attractions here, there are no tourists.

It is this quietness that makes it look a bit like a paradise-the mountains are high, the rivers are lush, and the villages are quaint, like a paradise.

The wheels are rolling forward, and we are going upstream, but the Yongding River at our feet is endlessly flowing backwards, and the peaks on both sides of the river are also retreating in our eyes.

Occasionally, a train comes from the Fengsha Railway on the east coast, winding north, always in the same direction as us.

I think great changes have taken place in cities and villages in recent decades-high-rise buildings have sprung up, commerce has become the mainstream of society, agriculture has become a supporting role, and materials are extremely rich, but it is still difficult to chase people's expanding desires.

However, when I was bundled into the mainstream society in a hurry, I didn't want to find a quaint place here.

There are almost no modern facilities in the low-rise villages, which may be that the Fengsha Railway has not changed since its completion.

Around noon, we finally rode to the upper reaches of Yongding River in Hebei Province. The quiet atmosphere here is completely different from that downstream. If the downstream carries the history, then the upstream has maintained a consistent style of Yongding River.

From upstream to downstream, except for the water in Yongding River, there is only the rumbling sound of trains on the sandstorm line.

Watching the train pass through the high cliff and imagining tourists watching the scenery in the carriage, we all suddenly want to have a chance to take the train and come here again.

On the other side of the river, the train passing by in a hurry on the sandstorm line passes through one tunnel after another, and here we finally see the long-awaited Youzhou Canyon wall-hung highway.

The rolling mountains seem to be deeply scarred by Yongding River, and the peaks on both sides of the valley are lined with knives and axes.

Restricted by the terrain, people who want to pass have to dig a wall-hanging road on such a cliff. From a distance, the road near the cliff leaves only a series of flickering caves to facilitate lighting. It's not thrilling, but it's more amazing.

Walking in the cave, I found that the road is just a one-way street with a width of more than ten feet. The dim light shines on the rocks of the cave, like the fangs of a hungry wolf. People are afraid to stop at any time.

Because the road is narrow, the two long tunnels also specially dug a stone hole on the side where the wrong car may be driven. It is precisely because of this design that people will suddenly feel gloomy when passing through here, and it is a bit creepy to be sent by the cave.

In this way, after only a short ride, I ended my trip to the Great Wall, only feeling less enjoyable.

After walking this road, it means that we will leave this beautiful Yongding River basin.

Looking back on riding all the way, whenever we see a bridge, we always stop tacitly and have a look at it. Arch bridge, stone pier bridge and flood bridge, without exception, the concept of time has long been forgotten.

While intoxicated with it, I can't help thinking: Maybe only when we look at other people's lives from a distance can we find the beauty of life.

At the last overflow bridge, we walked barefoot on the bridge deck and let the cool Yongding River wash away the fatigue of our feet. The distant mountains set off the near water, and the rippling river reflected the blue sky and the distant mountains. Everything in front of me is very pleasant, and the scenery washes away the worldly fatigue in my eyes.

My cousin and I were afraid to cross the river because the water on the flood bridge was very fast, so we guessed that the bridge had been abandoned.

At this time, an old lady came slowly across the street, only to find a place where she could stand firm with a stick in her hands, and then moved to our side step by step. Look at her trembling, we have been holding her heart and telling her to be careful.

After crossing the river, I asked, "Has this river always been like this?"

"No, just today the reservoir opened and released water!" As she spoke, she poured the water out of her rain boots.

Cousin is also very curious: "What are you doing across the street?"

"Ah, this is not to water the land! A few years ago, the reservoir put a lot of water, which immediately overflowed the land, saving me from watering. This year, I just released water bit by bit and watered the land myself. " While speaking, she had already arranged her soaked socks and trouser legs: "Nothing happened when I passed in the morning. When I came back at noon, I brought water. "

It turns out that Yongding River Canyon is still Yongding River Canyon, but Yongding River is not Yongding River. I have a feeling that the Yongding River under the control of the reservoir is like a prisoner who has lost his freedom, or even a puppet who has lost his soul.

Of course, this has also changed the way of life and production of people on both sides of the strait.

Cousin asked again, "How far is the place to eat in front?"

"Oh, that's only by the reservoir." At this time, my aunt saw that her family was passing by with a tractor, so she turned and said, "Why don't you come to my house and cook something for you?"

We laughed and said, no, we have to hurry.

Since we set out in the morning, we haven't eaten anything or drunk anything along the way. The water and energy in our body are almost exhausted, but we dare not drink up the remaining water.

By the time we got to Guanting Reservoir, it was past noon and the sky was completely clear. I still haven't seen any modern commercial facilities, but I accidentally rode two long tunnels and three hills.

It was past three o'clock until lunch. After a brief rest and hydration, we decided to go straight back to Beijing. We still have a hundred kilometers to go, including two long slopes.

Although it is already afternoon, the sun still seems to be hanging overhead, and the heat is not decreasing. At this difficult moment, another strong wind swept the Guanting Reservoir and came head-on. Even if I try to break the wind ahead, the heat wave is still inevitable, and my cousin looks a little tired.

When we passed the last village before climbing the mountain, we added some water, and then some villagers reminded us that it was much easier to take Badaling than here.

I expressed my gratitude, once again declined the villagers' suggestions, and prepared to challenge the highest point of this trip-the Dayingpan Great Wall at an altitude of 1000 meters. It's five o'clock in the afternoon, the sun has set in the west, and the heat in the air still lingers.

We were exhausted and had to stop to go up the hill.

However, every time you turn right and hide in the shade, you risk a strong headwind; Every time you turn left, you should be exposed to the sun. In this way, accompanied by "pays photogenic", we climbed to the highest point that is not so photogenic.

Seeing the mountain in front of us, we put down our bikes and continued to search radially.

The undulating broken Great Wall on the mountain seems to be close at hand, but it can't catch up all the time, so we have to give up the plan of the ancient Great Wall and hurry down the mountain.

When I retreated to the ancient village on the edge of the town, which was the last punch-in point of this trip, the sun completely set.

At this time, I was standing in the twilight, and I suddenly felt a little uneasy at the thought of taking my cousin on a more difficult road again.

Then he asked her, "Are you sure you want to go straight back to Beijing? There is a hill ahead! "

"Let's go, all here. I want to walk out of the mountain first, and then use a flashlight. "

"Then I won't turn on the light. Let's ride in the dark!"

"Ha ha ha ....."

Before we go on and climb the last slope in Beijing, I swear to my cousin: Turn this corner and you will see the top of the mountain. This slope is very small.

However, after crossing this mountain corner, the meniscus is clearly visible, but the top of the mountain can't be found. I searched and said, "I didn't recognize it in summer when I came in winter ..."

"You mean, you can't see the top of the mountain at all ..." My cousin suddenly felt very discouraged. "I can't do that. Let's have a rest. I am so tired. "

It's getting dark, but the crescent moon is getting clearer and clearer, and our physical strength and willpower are as little as this waning moon.

Turning one corner after another, the top of the mountain seems to be far away from us. I also have to doubt my impression and secretly ask myself: Where is this mountain?

In spite of hesitation, we have to move on. Thankfully, the top of the mountain always appears when people are about to give up.

When we reached the top of the mountain, it was completely dark, and we didn't go out before dark as planned.

On the dark downhill in the mountains, we didn't even see a car, only heard the barking of dogs from the distant cabin.

Being friends with the mountains, the moon and the breeze, we don't know whether to resist sleepiness or fear the night, or maybe we have no choice but to chat in the dark, so we talk from the stars to the moon, from the past to the present, and from the present to the future.

We are afraid of the loneliness in Shan Ye, but why do we yearn for the outdoors?

We like to travel, which is an instinct, but how did it become a show off?

We want to find a friend on the same frequency, but why do we always travel alone?

When I came back from this trip, I found myself piling up a lot of unanswered questions.

Because I can only stare at the road all the way, this head with too many unsolved mysteries has long fallen off and my neck is sore.

But I know that all the answers are on the way. Let's go.

At 24 o'clock in the middle of the night,

In the first half, I often stop for fun.

The second half of the day's journey often stops because of fatigue.

It's finally over.

postscript

Moon dust | Yann:

Sometimes nonsense once, sometimes nonsense now.

Think about it if you don't believe me.