Glacier to Gobi Expedition

The final canyon's whitewater featured more pushy big waves and holes but required no portages. None, that is, until the river surged against the walls, folded over itself, and disappeared underground. It seemed to us that the river could not resist springing one final surprise. After portaging this 100-foot land bridge, we paddled on and savored the river's otherworldly whitewater and geology. After several miles of continuous big water, the walls faded away, and the Gobi desert stretched out in front of us.

Arriving into the farming community of Xegil, we stashed our boats along the riverbank and walked into town, hoping to find a quiet ride back to the Kyrgyz border. No such luck. Unkempt foreigners are a rare sight in this remote border town; Chinese officials seized us immediately.

The Sary Jaz is, not surprisingly, an unofficial port of entry, meaning that the Chinese visas we'd secured for just this eventuality were void. They locked us in a jail cell for a few hours, and then took us out for some bureaucratic fun. After a medical exam and late-night interrogation, we found ourselves surrounded by four Chinese officers, each shouting "You make Chinese law, you must punish!" This sounded promising at first, but clearly the statement had lost some nuance in the translation.

Finally, after eight days under constant guard - on the second day, the Chinese had moved us from the holding cell to a sort of hotel arrest in the nearest large town - we paid a hefty fine for the privilege of being deported. As we bounced toward the border in a tiny truck crammed with police officers, Simon reasoned that the fine and jail time were better for him than the Achilles-swelling six-day hike that we had planned. In the back seat, Andrew daydreamed about the hiking we had missed, while one of the guards nodded off, slumped face down onto Andrew's back, and began to drool.