
Setting out for a bikykle ride into the countryside.

Standing stones along the highway out of town.

Basalty beast bitterly guards teh bukkit.
Stay your lower lip and stop quivering; you mayn't have it.

Junkyard demons snarl over stone scraps.

Bicycling through paddies-- one of the many things I desired to do in China... fulfilled.

Beside the lake to the east of Dali Old City.

A home between the lake, a pond, and a canal.

The strange placement of these wires by the lake, in contrast, I accept unquestioningly.

Trevor surveys the lake, village in foreground, snowy mountains in background.
Bicycle awaits stage right.

A puppy trots along a village road.
On the left, across the canal, lives a friendly 14-year-old boy.

A woman balances heavy vegetables on a bamboo shoulder bar.

These rascals jeered and cutely threw rocks at our wheels.
The boy in pink was constantly running.

He probably lives in the house behind this portal.

Another private gate marking the end of the alley.

Locals weeding the vegetable paddies in the late afternoon, as we return to Dali Old City.

Back in town, we bought chops from an officious boy whose dad carved our names into them.