A NIGHT IN THE MOUNTAIN

    1     it was autumn, the snow was already beginning to fall in Tibet. Our legs were so heavy and cold that they felt like blocks of ice. Have you ever seen snowmen ride bicycles? That’s     2     we looked like? Along the way children dressed in long wool coats stopped to look at us. In the late afternoon we found it was so cold that water bottles     3    . However, the lakes shone like glass in the setting sun and looked wonderful. Wang Wei rode in front of me as usual. She is very     4     and I knew I didn’t need to encourage her. To climb the mountains was hard work but as we looked around us, we were surprised by the view. We seemed to be able to see for miles. At one point we were so high that we found ourselves cycling through clouds. Then we began going down the hills. It was great fun     5       as it gradually became much warmer. In the valleys colourful butterflies flew around us and we saw many yaks and sheep eating green grass. At this point we had to change our caps, coats, gloves and trousers for T-shirts and shorts.

THE DREAM AND THE PLAN

My name is Wang Kun. Ever since middle school, my sister Wang Wei and I have dreamed about taking a great bike trip. Two years ago she bought an expensive mountain bike and then she     1     me to buy one. Last year, she visited our cousins, Dao Wei and Yu Hang at their college in Kunming. They are Dai and grew up in western Yunnan Province near the Lancang River, the Chinese part of the river that is called the Mekong River in other countries. Wang Wei soon got them interested     2         3     too. After graduating from college, we finally got the chance to take a bike trip. I asked my sister, “Where are we going?” It was my sister who first had the idea to cycle along the entire Mekong River from where it begins to where it ends. Now she is planning our     4     for the trip.

I am fond of my sister but she has one serious     5    . She can be really stubborn. Although she didn’t know the best way of getting to places, she insisted that she organize the trip     6    . Now, I know that the proper way is always her way. I kept asking her, “When are we leaving and when are we coming back?” I asked her whether she had looked at a map yet, Of course, she hadn’t; my sister doesn’t care about     7    . So I told her that the source of the Mekong is in Qinghai Province. She gave me a determined look—the kind that said she would not change her mind. When I told her that our journey would begin at an     8         9     more than 5.000 metres, she seemed to be excited about it. When I told her the air would be hard to     10     and it would be very cold, she said it would be an interesting experience. I know my sister well. Once she has made up her mind, nothing can change it. Finally, I had to give in.