Riding our bikes uphill. UGH. The jungle on our left and the mountains like in Laos on our right. The mountains are bald, with young tea trees soon to grow. A truck tire exploded and flew across the highway over our heads in a perfect slow-motion arc to the flowing stream below us. Tchye is sick and so Alex has to carry her in the basket on the back of his bike. The rain has stopped. I took a rest to eat a boiled egg and to look at the red white and bright orange flower trees that are level with me. Birds sit in the branches and are "singing the prettyiest songs"(The be good Tanyas). I felt like I was in a Traditional Chinese Painting, peaceful beauty.
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