I was 23 years old and traveling alone at a time when China still felt very far away and it was still far too easy for even the best prepared travelers to find themselves cut off from the rest of the world. I was not the best prepared. This was China in 1995: in the east, the world of hutongs and communist austerity was rapidly disappearing as foreign investment, much of it from longtime foes, transformed its cities and its people; out west, lives remained very much untouched, by investment and, seemingly, time. For two months across 12,000 miles, I took stupid risks, put myself in danger, got sick, got lost, and failed, repeatedly. But that's how we learn, right?