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The author in the village of Sary-Tash , Kyrgyzstan ( left ), going over Irkeshtam Pass into China ( right ) and joy riding with the Captain ( below ).
Photo by Helge Pedersen distinct feature on his leather vest — a large gold badge with the title “ Road Captain .” The Captain greeted me with a warm smile and led me and his growing entourage over to his motorcycle . I ’ ve never ridden a Harley and don ’ t know one model from another , but the Captain ’ s big touring bike was outfitted in a manner befitting his title . As I looked it over the Captain beamed with pride and motioned for me to throw a leg over . How could I resist ? No sooner had I climbed aboard the Captain motioned for me to move back to the passenger seat . As I complied , he hopped on and fired up the engine .
I don ’ t like being a passenger on a motorcycle , especially without proper riding gear and with someone I don ’ t know at the controls . Before I could object , the Captain pulled away quickly and I was pushed against the backrest as we headed for the main gate , swerving between two parked tour busses , around a couple of cars and into a series of figure eights with the footboards dragging .
After the second or third figure eight I realized that the Captain was good — really good . Scared or not , there was no turning back so I did my best to enjoy it . We sailed across the parking lot and sped past the hotel entrance under the portico . The Captain was putting on a show and the crowd loved it . Later I learned that my pilot was a highranking official and the lead motorcycle trainer for the Beijing Police Department .
When the ride was over the Captain gave me an official club pin and handed me his cell phone with a message translated into English : “ WE ARE BROTHERS .”