车轮下的丝绸之路.docVIP

车轮下的丝绸之路 　　解放军电子工程兵学院 魏新俊 编译 　　 　　Yurts, Yak’s-Hide Patches 　　One morning, after a night of sleeping beside the road, I woke to find a boy standing over my tent, peering at me through the screen. My body was sore and dehydrated, and I passed out. Several hours later, I woke up with him once again standing over me, holding a bottle of yogurt. He helped me pack up my tent in the strong wind and took me to his camp. 　　His family’s yurt was just beside a mountain that blocked a little of the wind and gave the goats a place to forage. Outside, it was cold, rocky, and windy. The floor and walls of the yurt were covered in carpets. So, inside, it was warm, still, quiet, and comfortable. I sat with the boy’s father, and it took a few minutes for me to realize we were speaking different languages but communicating perfectly. The yurt and tea were a perfect respite from the cold, dry wind outside. My tire had a tear that kept making the tubes explode, so he sewed it together with a yak’s hide patch. 　　I cycled 40 miles before seeing anyone else. I have never experienced freedom, independence, and purity like this. Every mountain and valley offered a trail to adventure. Every stream offered me a drink and a bath. These mountains are so high, and there are so few people and animals to pollute them, that I drank straight from the streams. I loved the isolation and the stark beauty. The next people I came across were soldiers at an army check post. They invited me in for yak-butter tea and bread. They had no chairs, so they brought me a bed to sit on. In the process, they knocked over six of their Kalishnikovs that were leaning against the wall. They were bored and had no idea what their purpose out there was. I was older than most of them, and they cared more about American movies than about whether my passport was in order. They gave me a loaf of nan for the two passes I was about to cross. 　　The next day, I rode 50 miles and passed three houses. I was invited in and fed