Journey of the Immortals
We began pedaling in the rain under gray dull low-hanging skies. Cycling from our hotel to a little noodle stall down the street for breakfast, the rain was light and misty but growing in intensity. By the time we’d sucked down two steaming bowls of piping hot mian xian (beef noodles) and chugged a couple of liters of orange juice, the precipitation had increased to a steady pour and threatened to make it a true “adventure” day.
