Day 1 - Preliminaries

Pre-Lhasa

The stress of the past 24 hours has been immense. While the plane ride to Hong Kong and Chengdu were incident free, my arrival at Sim’s Guesthouse brought a bombshell: trouble in Tibet. For the past six months the journey I had been planning was accessible to cyclists. Today, it appears, it is not.

Apparently two events had coincided to cause a clampdown on independent travel in Tibet. The first was an anti-Chinese protest on the Indian border, which had made the Chinese Government sensitive about similar protests in the sensitive autonomous region of Tibet. The second was the staging of the 17th Communist Party conference in Beijing, which had drawn the world’s focus to China and made conditions ripe for a high profile protest in Tibet. Paranoia in China translates immediately to restrictions in Tibet.

So where does this leave me? Well, sleepless on night one for a start.
To sum up the situation I find myself in:

• I have a Tibet `pass’ but it’s not genuine, as these can only be issued to tour groups
• The guesthouse I am staying at has contacts at the airport and have agreed to use them to get me a boarding pass (you can’t get one without a genuine permit)
• There was a good chance that I would be stopped for an inspection of the pass on arrival in Tibet. Because the pass is not genuine the guesthouse won’t even allow me to carry it. I have to give it back to the person who gives me the boarding pass so it never leaves Chengdu
• If I am stopped at the airport I can be immediately deported
• Even if I get through the airport check there is a chance that the hotel I am staying at in Lhasa can report me to the PSB (police) as they get closed down for harbouring

Lhasa

Well so far so good. Thankfully, there were no checks at the airport and I used a `friendly’ hotel recommended to me by people at the guesthouse in Chengdu. Despite my immediate relief I am extremely nervous about whether I can do the trip that I have put a fair bit of money and planning into. The report on the ground is that they will not start issuing permits for another 10 days. Given the fact that I was going to travel without permits this shouldn’t make a difference on the surface, but the reality is that the current situation draws a lot more attention to travellers at the military checkpoints. Where I might have slipped through before I am more likely to have my passport checked in current conditions.

I am contemplating a side trip north where I will attract less scrutiny (I will be camping so no fear of hotels reporting me), but I also have to acclimatise to the altitude and the side trip would take me up to 5000m from the current 3600m in Lhasa. I have a few days to pull a plan B together if things go pear-shaped.

Back to Chengdu…

On arrival on this small Chinese city of 10 million people I headed out to the panda nature reserve. While I’m normally not one for zoos or tourist traps, this was different as it was main giant panda research breeding facility globally. The province I was in – Sichuan – is the only place in the world where pandas remain in the wild. Saw about 50 pandas – most of them sucking on a bamboo shoot (pictured)– and had a feed of Sichuan chicken at a cool little bar in town.

Day 2 - Lhasa

Distance - 20kms

Max Alt – 3600m

Riding Time – 1 hour

Lhasa is spectacular, including the flight in where you weave through massive valleys. In the three or four hours I had been in Lhasa I managed to get the bike box on to a rickshaw (didn’t thrill the driver but I was coming here to cycle so he didn’t get a lot of sympathy from me), strolled around the Barkhor – or old town – and caught a glimpse of the Potala Palace which was home to the Dalai Lama before his exile.

The first full day in Lhasa was spent on `housekeeping’ and chores. The housekeeping consisted of applying for my Nepalese visa and ended up more of a circus than anticipated. First, they needed a photograph which I didn’t have. The only photographer I could find was one who takes pictures of tourists standing in front of the Potala Palace (pictured below). As part of the deal they dress you up in ceremonial clothes to make it look like you are a high monk, and were offended when I said I wanted to remain in my humble clothes. The guy rigged up a velvet backdrop for me and said it would be ready by 11.20am – the consulate shuts at midday… The other problem was that the money for the photo ate into my cash reserves, and I had to find a bank (quickly) to change my US dollars while I waited for the photo to be developed.

At 11.58am I was still standing in line about 20 people from the front of the queue. To my shock, the guy on the door pointed at a monk and I and called us to the front before dragging us in the door that was locked behind us. The Chinese and Tibetans I had to push through were understandably pissed off that the white man and man of the cloth got preferential treatment. First time I’d felt like a pro footballer at a nightclub., and the gesture saved me another day in Lhasa…

The chores were less complicated: unpack the bike (nothing broken) and take a shower (a disaster because I grabbed my sleepsheet not chamois and so had to put my clothes on while wringing wet in a freezing outdoor shower).

Aside from all that had a great day, much of it subconsciously spent acclimatising to altitude. The effects so far have been a strong desire to sleep, shallow breathing and the slightest nausea. The effects were heightened by a 20km bike ride around the Barkhor, taking in the smell of incense and whirring of prayer wheels while people watching (one of those people pictured above). Had dinner at Spinn Café – a restaurant set up by a cyclist from Hong Kong – where I had a Lhasa Beer and Tom Yum soup.

Day 3 - Lhasa - Ganden Monastery - Ganden

Distance - 110kms
Max Altutide – 4300m
Riding Time – 4.5 hours

Wanted to have a solid hit out today before starting the trip proper and certainly achieved that. I chose Ganden Monastery for three reasons:

1. It looked spectacular, set high on the side of a mountain
2. It was about the right distance
3. It has a nasty climb and rose to 4300m – enough to test the extent of my acclimatisation

The day started frustratingly – no one was in reception to open the room where my bike was being stored, which meant I had to cool my heels for 45 minutes. I did manage to do some laundry so the time wasn’t completely wasted and was on the road by 8.45am. The trip to the base of the final climb felt very much like Vietnam with people working in the fields, some ugly little villages dotted along the road and lots of smoky farming equipment on the road. The most interesting site was a guy prostrating his way down the road – a ritual that signifies his religious commitment. In essence, people believe that prostrating increases your connection to Buddha and some people will travel hundreds of kilometres in this fashion to make the point.

The climb to Ganden was spectacular but tough – 9.5kms at 10% in places. The altitude made life even more difficult and every time I took a sip of water it would take 30 seconds for my breathing to return to normal. I made it to the top OK and left my bike with a monk on the front gate before setting off for some thin-air exploration. The monastery was spectacular and real `working’ monastery – unlike the Potala Palace which is more of a museum piece – which meant there were monks to-ing and fro-ing everywhere.
Met a French girl – Karine – who had cycled solo from Pakistan to Lhasa on her maiden bicycle ride. An incredible effort, which I was to hear about over dinner later that day. She was also able to provide me with some good tips about the road ahead, including advice on the current situation with regards permits. Her words were encouraging.

The ride back to Lhasa was difficult as I battled a headwind and dehydration. I stopped for two litres of water and two bananas about 30kms from home, but couldn’t really linger as I had to get to the Nepali consulate before closing. I got there with a few minutes to spare, and turned my attention to packing.

Spent most of the night at the Barkhor, which was now subject to a much heavier police presence. I was to learn later that the reason for this was that the Dalai Lama had been given an international award and the Chinese Government were worried that a `Free Tibet’ protest might erupt. The irony is that the police presence only drew more attention to the achievement, as most people would not have even heard about the award. I couldn’t help but think that with all these police around and mass anxiety that tomorrow might not be the best day to head off….

Day 4 - Lhasa - Chingtong

Distance - 90kms
Max Alt – 3600m
Riding time – 4 hours

The first real day on the road. Being relatively
short, and on paved, flat roads, I set of at 11am
rather than the preferred early start. Before leaving I visited the Jokhang Temple in the Barkhor, and was confronted with absolute pandemonium with pilgrims everywhere. In silent protest at the police presence the pilgrims had stoked the incense furnaces and the whole city was a sea of smoke (pictured). The temple is magnificent, and I can see why monasteries attract monks to them with their silence and serenity. The thought of lounging around, drinking tea and doing the odd chant looked appealing, though I’m not sure the commitment’s as simple as that.

The next task was packing my bike. Having never carried so much gear on just two panniers (on my long trip 15 years ago I had front and rear panniers) it was a struggle to work out how to keep the bike balanced and secure. Much of the weight is from food – three days worth – and books which I am determined to read quickly and dispense with. I took the obligatory photo in front of the Potala Palace (below), but was moved on by two police officers who obviously considered me a threat or menace or both. I didn't linger...

Stopped at a service station on the way out of town to fill my fuel bottle, and started the long ride into the imposing mountains ahead. It was flat but warm, and I got extremely sunburned. You are pretty close to the sun up here and so burn quickly. The ride itself was different to what I expected, with lots of trees as I snaked along a river. Travelling along the valley I was dwarfed by mountains on both sides, with even larger ones ahead. This is pain country for a cyclist.

I went through my first military checkpoint – successfully – about 10 kms from the bottom of the first major climb the Kampa La. This climb is reportedly the most difficult of the trip, partly because you are still acclimatising and partly because it’s 34kms and rises 1400m to almost 5000m. I spent a bit of time trying to find a reasonable campsite, and though the one I selected was not ideal I didn't want to give back any of the kilometres I had ridden. From the campsite I I can see the road snaking above me. Gulp.

Cooked myself a passable meal on the campstove. Actually it was terrible. I overcooked the noodles and undercooked the flavour. One of the mistakes was adding spice to the starchy water instead of draining it. The concoction tasted like a wet book.

Just as I pitched camp (pictured right) a pack of dogs – maybe 10 – came towards me. These things made Cujo look like Benji and were going absolutely berserk. One of them sprinted towards me, teeth gnashing, and I took the closest thing to me (a water bottle) and squirted it into his face. It had the desired effect luckily but made me pretty edgy. As I write this I can hear them outside the tent and just took a peek to confirm it. As I lay here I realise that this is not going to be a particularly restful night’s sleep. It’s now 8pm, dark and the only sound out here is the barking of hounds and ever-faster beating of my heart…

Day 5 - Chingtong - Ngartse

Distance - 85kms
Max Altitude – 4810m
Riding time – 6 hours

Zero sleep last night – who said camping was peaceful. The barking of dogs was incessant and a few times I could hear their breathing right outside my tent. I tried not to breathe, but they knew I was there.

Woke up this morning to two nice surprises: the tent was covered in ice and had frozen into place and the same pack of dogs that had harassed me all night were staring menacingly at me from 50 metres away. Rolling up a frozen tent with one eye on the beasts I managed to get on the road by 8.45am (it doesn’t get light til 8am). The climb started 100m into the day and I would spend the first two and half hours crawling up the Kampa La. The climb was absolutely relentless and I forced myself to do 17.5kms before stopping for break and some food. When I say food it was an army biscuit I had picked up in Lhasa. Do they sound appetising? Worse than you think…

The next 7kms to the top were incredibly steep and with the rise in altitude oxygen was at a premium. The strong headwind in some sections made it difficult just to keep upright. But oh was it worth it! The view from the top (pictured) was the most magnificent I have ever seen. Below me was the might Yamdrok Tso (Scorpion Lake), in an amazing shade of turquoise, flanked by mountains and with 8000m snow covered peaks in the distance. At 4800m it was cold and so after a few photos I plunged down to warmer climes for about 8kms to a still-high 4500m, an altitude that I would remain at for the rest of the ride.

The road followed the lake for the next 30kms or so – a truly magnificent setting dulled only by the ferocious headwind. I pulled into the town of Pede Dzong for lunch and was absolutely spent. I had been on the bike over four hours with no sleep and one army biscuit for sustenance. Lunch was a scream. It was in a mud brick hut with one window and four armchairs. The only food on offer was instant noodles – a meal I would come to expect and loathe – but they did have Coke which was what I needed more than anything. As I ate the place slowly filled up with interested passers-by, until eventually the armchairs were occupied and the room crowded with chain-smoking farmers. My Tibetan and their English were of a similar standard, so conversation was limited to a few chuckles. The focus of the `discussion’ was them poring over my maps and taking great delight in me pointing out their own little hamlet of Pede. Even they couldn’t believe this place was on a map.

The next hour continued to follow the lake (pictured right) but progress was slow with a brutal 60kph headwind that threatened to blow me off the edge of the road in places. I hadn’t experienced a headwind like that since Iceland, though expect I will feel it again before this trip’s over. It seems the westerlies pick up in the afternoon and I’m heading west for the whole trip.

About 10kms from my destination I ran into a Canadian couple cycling the other way. Dave and Arlene had ridden from Denmark – putting me in the shade – and were looking forward to hitting civilisation in Lhasa. A 15-minute chat and I was off, making my way into Ngartse six hours after I left the hounds. A paltry 15kph average but a 1000 metre gain in altitude. Checked into a dodgy hotel complete with pit toilet and a draft that would have made Mawson uncomfortable. Good news is that I can bring the bike into the room with me, where I have been trying unsuccessfully to dry out my tent which was still covered in ice. The mess in the room is considerable but I figure the place hasn’t been mopped for a while and is due. To top things off there was no shower and so my cleansing took the form of putting my head under an icy tap with an audience of people chuckling at the sight. The place is also a construction zone and sleep is going to be difficult between the paint fumes and incessant hammering.

At dinner I sampled my first yak butter tea. You are supposed to drink it quickly while it’s hot, as the butter eventually sets and tastes ordinary. All I can say is that I’d hate to taste it cold. Hideous stuff that tasted like an armpit strained through a tin of sardines. Will have it again no doubt…

It’s 8.30pm, I’m tucked in bed and contemplating two passes that greet me tomorrow. In a strange way I cannot wait to get on the bike again and amongst this scenery.

Day 6 - Ngartse - Gyantse

Distance – 110kms
Max Altitude – 5040m
Riding time – 6 hrs 15 minutes

I have never come so close to crying on a bike.
But more on that later.

If the dogs the night before had robbed me of sleep, the management, guests and tradesman at the `Clean Hotel’ (it’s actual name) more than matched them. They shouted, sang, slammed doors and even shattered a window til 1am. The paint fumes were so bad that I was delirious and close to hallucinating, not quite sure if the dull headache was paint or altitude induced. Because of my paranoia about police and visas I did not want to make a scene, and so I stewed, and stewed.

Woke up early and was on the road by 8am. The morning was freezing cold – well below freezing – and I was wearing all of my gear except my goretex. From the first km I started a steady climb to the base of the Kora La, a pass which crests between two glaciers, creating a windblown, harsh and inhospitable summit.

Nearly crying? About halfway up the pass (ie one and a quarter hours in - pictured above) the wind was howling through the valley at around 40kph. The temperature was around -10 and the gradient averaged around 8%. I used every mental trick in the book to keep going. I set myself time limits between rests (ie ride the next 15 minutes without stopping), picked out points in the distance that I had to reach before I could rest (ie ride to that bridge before you rest) and even counted pedal strokes. In the end I stopped only twice, and the second time I doubted whether I would be able to make it to the top. The elevation and cold sucked all of my energy and the wind took care of my morale and confidence. I pride myself on mental strength but 200m from the summit I wanted to cry, turn around and return to the relative warmth of Ngartse. Eventually melodrama subsided and I muscled my way to the top in the faint hope that I might get some acknowledgment at the summit. Unlike yesterday where there were a few people there to applaud, the Kora La offered just a windswept emptiness and some self congratulation.

The sight of the glaciers just metres above made up for some of the disappointment.
About 200m down the descent I ran into a French guy cycling the other way (pictured right). We had a chat for half an hour or so (much warmer on this side of the peak)) – he’d ridden from France. The descent was windy and turned to gravel roads, which would be the story of the day. The landscape in this canyon is like nowhere else in Tibet and reminded me more of the US than Tibet. Stopped for lunch in a tiny village across the river from the main road and instantly had an audience of 20 or so young kids under 5 huddled around. They watched intently as I ate my noodle soup, with hands grabbing at my clothes and bike. The adults also started to gather around and seem to be entertained by my eating. It appeared that most of the village had been put to work on the road project, and were sitting in trenches along the road eating their lunch as I rode away.

I left the town to applause (for what I’m not sure) and on to one of the most frustrating stretches of road I’d cycled. In some sections where they were paving I would have to carry my bike around the road-making equipment. For about 20kms they had put in dirt speed humps every 50 metres which is a nightmare on a fully laden bike. The packing arrangements were revealed to be inadequate and several times the stove worked its way loose and catapulted off the bike. Eventually I took the time to reconfigure everything and seem to have found a far more stable packing set-up. While I was doing this a young girl and elderly woman whom I had passed ran towards me, perhaps thinking that I had stopped for them. They motioned to their mouths craving food, and I handed over two army biscuits which they needed more than me.

The final pass of the day was only 400m of vertical but I really struggled over it (the ruins pictured below were at the bottom of the pass). Lack of sleep, lack of oxygen and cold conspired to hurt me. I encountered and passed through my second police checkpoint today and simply looked straight ahead and rode through confidently. I pedalled into town at around 4.30pm and did a loop to check out hotel options. Ended up at the Jin Shin Hotel which was palatial compared to last night, and made use of the bath and cable TV. Enjoyed a Yak Chilli and fried rice for dinner. I plan to linger here in the morning to have a good look around and visit the famed `Kumbum’ monastery. Tomorrow’s ride is 100kms but flat – a word I won’t be able to say very often on this trip. A rest day is planned for Shigatse which the body is already craving.

Day 7 - Gyantse - Shigatse

Distance – 100kms
Max Altitude – 4000m
Riding time – 4 hours


One of the most enjoyable days I have ever had on a bike. In stark contrast to yesterday, the road was paved, the terrain flat and the wind barely noticeable. The first 40kms in particular were a dream: people sifting barley in the fields, horses and carts the mode of transport and constant waves from villagers working the field.

Before the riding started I visited the amazing `Giant Kumbum’ (pictured right), a huge, circular structure that contains 75 individual chapels and is nine storeys high. I made my way to the top amongst the hordes of pilgrims and was truly amazed by the scale and detail of the place.

It was difficult to leave Gyantse, a town that had provided me with warmth, a great hotel, my first night’s sleep on the road and some spectacular buildings. About 10kms into the trip a jeep carrying a group of Dutch tourists that I’d met several times pulled over and cheered – made my day to be recognised in the middle of nowhere. I stopped several times to watch the locals working in the fields (pictured right) and shake hands with those that approached me. A truly magical travelling experience to be able to communicate with people without saying a word. One of the villagers noticed an army biscuit tucked into the side of the handlebar bag and asked if he could have it. I gave it to him and he was extremely grateful – not sure the gratitude will last after he tastes the congealed vomit that is the army biscuit.

After making really good progress I stopped 10kms from Shigatse for a Sprite. Suddenly there were 10 guys around me inspecting the bike and me, obviously coming to grips with the purpose of gears, brakes, GPS and computer that are foreign to them. It was a scream watching them scratch their heads trying to figure out the purpose of these instruments.

Once in Shigatse I did a loop of the town to get my bearings and quickly found the Tenzin Hotel that had been recommended by other travellers. Best of all they allow me to bring my bike into the room which helps me sleep more easily. I did my laundry, watched some kids play pool and then headed out for a cut-throat shave. The cut-throat is one of the great Asian indulgences. Though I could get the job done in two minutes myself, I like the ceremony of the 45-minute shave that layers shaving foam, hot towels, more foam, more hot towels and then a close shave.

Went to the Tashi restaurant for a well-earned vegetable curry, garlic naan and biryani rice. I met two separate cycling couples there (two Swiss and two Dutch) who had travelled from Europe through Russia and a few of the `stans’ (Uzbek, Tajik, Kyrz, Kajik, Kazakh, etc). The all looked gaunt, malnourished, sunburned and happy.

Day 8 - Shigatse

Rest Day

After 5 days and 500kms today was scheduled for a rest day. Shigatse is also the last civilisation between here and Kathmandu so I was keen to stock up on food, get laundry up to date and enjoy conversation with other English speakers. In the morning I came across an intense pool game on the street, between a couple of local kids and Tibetan Elvis (pictured above). Very entertaining exhibition of showmanship - though his pool was terrible.

Spent the morning at the Tascheng Monastery (pictured below), an impressive building that houses the Panchen Lama (the spiritual leader of Tibet now that the Dalai Lama is exiled). I walked about 10kms around the monastery and am now feeling incredibly lethargic. I’m hoping it’s not more serious than lethargy, but I think it’s in large part due to the cold which is particularly bad here.

I slept for a few hours in the afternoon and awoke to a snowstorm – a great day not to be on the bike. Just hoping this doesn’t continue tomorrow as I have a long day ahead, with the next real destination being Everest Base Camp in around four days.

Day 9 - Shigatse - Xiuquian

Distance – 140kms
Riding time – 7 hours 40 minutes
Max Altitude – 4550m

An epic from start to finish – one of the most satisfying days I have had on the bike. Left Shigatse at 9am and began the slow pedal uphill and upwind. The scenery was extremely barren, and remained so for the whole day, with only a strip of road stretched like a ribbon between bald hills. I stopped to say hello to some kids in a small town, all of them captivated by the bike and gadgets and clothing (pictured right).

At about 50kms in I was pulled over by a couple in a Land Cruiser. The Dutch couple wanted to take a photo and talk to me about cycling. Apparently they had had a miserable time in the jeep, mainly because they were not getting along with and being cheated by their driver and guide. For example, they had agreed on and paid for an 8 day trip which had been reduced to 7. The Everest Base Camp detour had been cancelled and every time they asked to stop at a village they were told it was a condition of their permit that they did not do so. I felt sorry for them as they had obviously spent a lot of money and were having a miserable time. I did feel a little smug riding off into the distance knowing I’d made the right choice, though there would be more than one occasion where I would have done anything to be in the comfort of a vehicle later in the trip.

The headwind picked up later in the morning. At times my heart rate was around 160 and I was only doing 7kph on flat road, stopping once for a drink where I was able to crouch down behind a concrete wall (pictured right). I pushed on until the 90km mark where I stopped at a cluster of huts for some respite from the wind and, hopefully, something to eat. As I pulled over the people sifting barley in the field stopped working and stared intently. I motioned to my mouth – requesting food – and an old woman walked over and grabbed me by the hand. She led me past a vicious-looking dog and into her home. She sat me down in an extremely basic but very cosy (warmth was like gold) room, poured me a cup of tea and thrust a basket of potatoes in front of me. Seeing the perplexed look on my face, she showed me how to peel the potatoes (they were cooked, which wasn’t immediately clear) and kept topping up my tea. I worked my way through half a dozen cold potatoes and a similar number of tea refills while staring out the window at the howling wind. I understood why these villagers were so content: warm, fed and out of the wind.

When I left the village I gave the woman 5 yuan ($1) and she seemed surprised but happy. The whole village waved goodbye as I headed back out into the cold wind. By this stage I had cycled for five hours and still had to negotiate the major pass of the day (4550m) – the Lagpa La.

Reaching the pass was difficult with the wind now at galeforce. At one stage I thought about pitching the tent but knew it would cost me another day. The pass itself was under construction and with the wind, dust and rocky surface it was a difficult 45 minute climb. Cresting the top was a huge relief, and I rugged up for the descent which was the scene of one of the most amazing things I had seen. Halfway down there was a guy prostrating his way along the highway. He had a wagon with him that he would leave behind, prostrate for 200 metres or so and then retrieve the wagon and bring it back to the point where he’d got to before doing it all over again. I was to find out later from a tour group that had spoken to him that the guy was on his way to Lake Manosovar nearly 1000kms away. At an average of 2-3 kms per day the journey would take him a full year. I gave the guy 10yuan – they have no means of support but donations – and kept riding.

Back down in the valley the clock struck 5pm, and I was able to shield myself from the wind by tucking in behind a tractor carrying a herd of goats. I followed the tractor for 10kms and at one point the guy sitting in the back lost his hat in the wind. I turned around, retrieved the hat and resumed my position behind the tractor. The guy didn’t know what to make of it all, particularly when I pulled the camera out to take some video while riding at 40kph.

To this point I was determined to camp, but then saw a sign to some hot springs just off the road with accommodation. It didn’t take me long to convince myself that it was the right option. The complex, stuck in the middle of nowhere, was absolutely bizarre. The pool which served as the hot spring had about four inches of water in it despite being two metres deep. After eating I returned to the pool to find it full of Chinese army guys – naked – soaping each other while karaoke music echoed through the complex. The room is nice with a deep bluestone spa that apparently doesn’t work and an inviting shower that also appears not to function. While laying in the trickle of water in the pool I can hear the wind howling outside – a good night to be indoors.

Day 10 - Xiuquian - Shegar

Distance – 100kms
Max Altitude – 5300m
Riding Time – 6 hours

And I thought yesterday was tough. Six hours of riding, nearly 1500m of vertical and a trip high peak altitude of 5300m. I left at 8.30am hoping to get breakfast in Lhatse, but nothing was open. Shortly after Lhatse I went through my first serious checkpoint, where the officer requested my passport and papers. Now I had a passport but no papers, and I assured him I didn’t need any papers to get to Kathmandu. He seemed suspicious, but the bluff worked and he sent me on my way.

Immediately after the checkpoint the most difficult climb of the trip began. From just over 4000m the road rose in a canyon some 1300m. The lack of direct sunlight in the first 10kms made it extremely cold, and with the fatigue from yesterday’s effort it was a struggle just to keep momentum. I started to really feel the effects of altitude at 4700m and ate a second army biscuit and my last opportunity for sustenance til I reached Shegar at the end of the day. The last 300m of altitude gain were unlikely anything I have experienced before. I barely had enough oxygen to turn my legs over, holding a steady speed of 4kph for the last 3kms. Usually 3kms takes me 15 minutes, but on this day it took close to an hour.

The view from the top was unbelievable – 7000m peaks everywhere and a sweeping valley below. I risked frostbite to get some pictures, including of yak herders (pictured top), and hope it was worth it. The first 20 kms of the `descent’ were unbelievably painful. I had bought some dishwashing gloves to wear under my thick cycling gloves but the icy wind cut through like a razor. I could barely squeeze on the brakes or feel my fingers, and my feet had lost all relevance. The bitumen gave way to gravel road and I desperately wanted to lose altitude to get some warmth but could not pedal fast enough to achieve it. The only other people I saw on this day were yak herders, and I had incredible respect for these people that live in these conditions every day of the year.

It was only at 4600m – a full hour and 45 minutes since I had crested the Gyatso La – that feeling started to return to my extremities. By the time I hit the town of Shegar I had returned to 4300m, and decided to arrange my Everest permit before finding accommodation and eating. There had been rumours that Everest Base Camp was closed on account of the Communist Conference, but I was able to get a permit and hope it gets me in tomorrow. My accommodation in Shegar is basic ($4 a night) and freezing cold. Despite the fact that the loungeroom has a fireplace I cannot get warm despite having every piece of clothing on, including a goretex jacket and pants. Dinner was great, with fried rice, bread and jam.

Tomorrow I have two options: an all out assault on Everest Base Camp or camp halfway and do it in two days. I will make an assessment once I see how the body holds up but I’m hoping I can extract one more big effort out of it…

Day 11 - Shegar to Rhonghpu/Everest Base Camp

Distance – 105kms
Max Altitude – 5210m
Riding time – 9 hours and 15 minutes

The hardest day of my life – one that will change me forever. I dug deeper than I ever have before and pushed my physical and mental limits beyond what I thought possible. I made it – just…

A combination of altitude and a dozen toilet excursions in below freezing conditions made for a terrible night’s sleep (less than an hour). I rose at 7am and nervously arranged my gear for what promised to be an epic day. I had the same eerie sense of expectation that I used to get before a triathlon – silent shuffling and mild terror.

After breakfast of eggs, toast and coffee I set off into the cold morning. The first 12kms were on paved road – the last I would see until I hit Nepal. Passed through a passport control point and had my Everest national park permit inspected before hitting the famed Pang La (pictured top). The climb is one of the world’s most imposing, with 46 switchbacks on unsealed road that climbs to over 5200m.

I pushed hard on the climb, not taking a break for fear of breaking my rhythm. It took me two hours and 20 minutes of climbing at maximum effort to reach the top, where I was confronted with the most spectacular view I have ever seen. Laid out in front of me were Everest, Lhotse, Makalu and other 8000m monsters. I lingered at the top for 5 minutes or so and then started the 90 minute descent – without doubt the most spectacular I have ever ridden. Like the front side of the Pang La, the road had dozens of switchbacks and sank deep into the warm valley below.

At the bottom of the valley was the village of Tashi Dzom, a picturesque junction that is the gateway to the Kharta Valley as well as Everest Base Camp (picture above just out of Tashi Dzom). Had a great lunch of yak fried rice to fill the gap created by five hours of solid riding. The next 43 kms would rise by 800m but making Rhonghpu Monastery (the goal for tonight) by dark would be straightforward, or so I thought. The road condition on that stretch was the worst I have ever encountered. Wheel ruts up to a foot deep made progress almost impossible. It was all I could do to stay upright as I battled at 6-8kph. The terrain battered both bike and body, and hour after hour passed without any respite. To make matters worse I was stoned by Tibetan children – their parents seemed to approve – and several women tried to grab the bread I was carrying right off my pannier.

At 5pm, with 7 hours cycling under my belt, I stood and stared at Mt Everest in front of me. At that point I seriously doubted whether I could make the final 14kms uphill to the monastery. I took several deep breaths and pushed on, kilometre after slow kilometre, traversing from one side of the road to the other to avoid the worst of the wheel ruts. The light started to fade around 6.30pm and the temperature dropped to below freezing. I had so little energy that I couldn’t pedal up the slightest incline – having to get off and push – and was completely disoriented. I’m not sure I had the faculties to pitch a tent if it had been required.

At 7.30pm, in darkness, I pedalled into Rhonghpu. I was physically shattered, emotional and slumped astride my bike in the shadow of Mt Everest (picture of Everest below on arrival) and took a few moments to bask in the achievement. I had been on the bike for more than 9 hours, been on the road for nearly 12 hours, and had climbed more than 2000m of vertical. More than 90% of the day had been above 4500m and I had climbed through the 5000m barrier twice. I was spent. The last hour of the ride gave me an unbelievable clarity about what’s important in life. Without wanting to sound melodramatic, at that moment it became clear that the trip to Tibet had been about this day. It gave me confidence, humbled me and will leave a lasting and profound mark on me.

On arrival at the monastery proper I ran into a number of people that recognised me: an English couple (Ian and Liz) who were also cycling, and Robert, a Czeck surgeon I had met at the hotel the night before. He had promised that he would buy me a beer if I made it to Rhonghpu in a day, and duly came good on his promise. He and others were incredulous that I had done the trip in a day, and quietly so was I.

Day 12 - Rhonghpu - Everest Base Camp

Distance – 25kms
Max altitude – 5200m
Riding time – 2 hours

Basically a rest day, with copious tea and pancakes interspersed with a two ride up to Everest Base Camp proper. I spent most of the morning getting warm and talking to Lily, a 50-year-old Belgian woman who was supposed to be climbing a 7000m peak but had become altitude sick and had to return to base camp. She was devastated, not just because of the time and money wasted but because as a climber she now knew she was susceptible to altitude sickness and it would always be in the back of her mind.

The ride to EBC was on the same washerboard roads that I had endured yesterday, but was much easier without panniers. The camp itself was desolate (pictured below - minus the customary tents), but awe-inspiring to be standing just 2kms from the face of the world’s largest mountain. I lingered there for an hour or so (pictured right at the top) and laughed as three Japanese guys cracked a bottle of champagne and sang happy birthday to one of their party.

The trip back was pretty quick but cold, and I headed straight to the restaurant to get my core temperature back to normal. Met an interesting English guy – Ben – who was guiding a group and he told me he had ridden the same route a year earlier. He also informed me that two Dutch cyclists had died in this area around that time from hypothermia after getting caught in a blizzard without dry clothing. Ben talked me into taking a remote shortcut out of here rather than retracing my steps – a tempting thought as it meant avoiding the corrugations that I was dreading. The road would be difficult to navigate and more remote than any others I’d taken, but in his opinion I could cycle it at this time of year. It would include another 5000m pass, but I decided to give it a go.

Just before bed two Belgians in Lily’s climbing party arrived back from their trek. They were extremely sunburned and tired, but euphoric as it was the first time to 7000m for either of them.

Day 13 - Rhonghpu - Tingri

Distance – 85kms
Max altitude – 5110m
Riding time – 6 hours 15 minutes

Potentially my best day cycle touring ever. I slept poorly last night knowing that the route was a 4WD drive track and that navigation would be tricky. Woke at 7.30am, got ready and ate two pancakes and drained a cup of coffee before setting off around 9am, leaving Everest behind me in the morning light (pictured right). Endured 12kms of corrugations before heading west into 4WD territory. Ben, the guide I had met the day before, came past me in a Land Cruiser just before the turnoff to help me identify the right track to take. It wasn’t long after that they disappeared out of sight and I had to forge my own route. I ended up on a stoney river bed and had to drag my bike across a pebble field of about 500metres – slow going at nearly 5000m.

Shortly after the road rose sharply and it took me three hours of exertion to cover 20kms on the worst surface I have ridden. I had to pick my way up a rocky track, negotiate river crossings and, when it got too steep in two or three places I had to get off and push. Despite the physical effort I revelled in the fact that all I could see were mountains, including Everest, yaks and endless plateau. No roads, no people, no noise except the wind. The summit was a relief but the ensuing downhill to the river was tricky and incredibly steep in places. I passed a guy on horse and cart about 50kms in and continued to wind my way through the valley. There was no real road to speak of, rather a series of tracks that headed in the same general direction but snaked up and down small hills and occasionally criss-crossed. For the first time on the trip I was dependent on the compass and map, rather than road signs.

The landscape in the valley was more Arizona than Tibet (pictured below). I was passed by only one vehicle all day and they were pretty amazed by the site. I was a bit pissed off when they pulled over 200 metres ahead, jumped out to take photos, and then jumped back in and sped away before I even got to them. How will they commentate on the photo? Here is a bloke on a bike. No idea where he was from or where he was going. Nice shot though. Welcome to Tibet zoo.

I finally wheeled into Tingri in the late afternoon and content that I had my best day physically since the trip started. Ben had suggested it might take up to three days to get to Tingri, but I was there in one and enjoying being at a less demanding altitude (around 4000m). Tingri was a dive and once I realised that none of the hotels offered a shower I decided to pedal on another 10kms and camp with Everest in full view. It’s a magnificent sight and one that I will miss. I cooked a half reasonable pasta which made a nice change from rice, and waited til night fall to pitch the tent in a pretty exposed field. Today I went for the million dollar view over protection from the howling wind (Everest pictured below just out of Tingri).

It dawned on me earlier that I have only a few days left in Tibet. I want to make this experience linger and am contemplating a detour to a sacred lake tomorrow. I will make my decision once I see what the weather is like and how I am feeling.

Day 14 - Tingri - Menkab

Distance – 65kms
Max altitude – 4540m
Riding time – 5 hours

A shit day. As if someone wanted to show me that this touring thing’s not all peaches and cream, I was served up a long, cold, windy and emotionally draining day. The road was intermittently huge corrugations and deep sand. The wind was incessant, and front on, and the dust thrown up by passing trucks and Land Cruisers was suffocating. The people along the way were particularly depressing.

The only decent moment of the day was waking up in the magnificent shadow of Everest (pictured right). From 8am, when I left the campsite, it just got worse and worse.

I stopped for breakfast an hour in and realised I’d lost my guidebook – Tibet Overland – which had been a constant companion and had more sentimental than practical value at this end of the trip. Breakfast was bizarre. I asked someone where I could something to eat and they pointed at a small house, which I promptly walked into to find all the occupants asleep. They jumped to their feet reasonably quickly, except for the guy who barely glanced up. The women of the house offered to get me food, which I was relieved about. At this stage I wasn’t sure what was on the menu but was pleasantly surprised by a serve of momos (Tibetan dumplings).

While eating there was a steady stream of locals coming into the house handing over money to the guy who was still laying on the couch. Usually they gave him 30 to 50 yuan ($5-8), but he was slowly accumulating a wad of cash which he counted while laying on his side. I don’t know what he was being paid for, but he was obviously Mr Big in town. Towards the end of breakfast an elderly woman came in and started crying. It was obvious that she didn’t have the money she owed, and Mr Big wasn’t going to let her off the hook easily. He yelled at her for a while, tears streaming down her face, and then after he’d made his point he relented. At this point I contemplated asking how much it would take to cover her debt but it was a difficult situation to get involved in. Once the shouting stopped her tears dried up and she was on her way.

About an hour after breakfast I stopped for water and walked into a shop straight out of Deliverance. Everyone hovered around me inside and then followed me outside to my bike. Everyone – young and old, male and female – were begging for money and mothers pushed their children forward to reinforce their need. During the commotion a truck pulled up outside. As the passenger got out of the cab I noticed a live sheep on the floor of the truck. I would see the sheep later…

I got out of Deliverance as quickly as I could and back into the wind, averaging about 10kph pedalling as hard as I could. I wasn’t sure whether it was the body or the bike was going to give up first on these roads. Turns out it was the body. I pulled into a truckstop for a drink at about 2pm and was shattered. The stares were constant and it was pretty obvious that the local yak herdsmen held me in reasonably high contempt. They all asked me for money, but soon realised I wasn’t providing any and wasn’t worth the trouble. I asked for a Sprite and the girl serving me decided the most practical vessel was a shot glass, which she refilled about 20 times for me to drink the Sprite. When I indicated I’d like to drink out of the can she would have none of it.

By this stage I had given up any hope of making it over the big pass today, or taking the detour, and decided I would try to grovel to the base of the Himalaya about 10kms away. On the way I passed the truck driver I’d seen earlier who slit the throat of the sheep I had seen while I was passing, and were obviously going to share the meal with some other truck drivers they were camping with.

My campsite is very exposed, visible from the road and rocky. There were no better alternatives, and all seemed OK until a man and woman on a horse and cart came past shortly before dark. The guy got off and walked over speaking unintelligible Tibetan. He cased the campsite, looked inside the tent and at my bike, and then stared at me for what must have been 5 minutes. He had a large machete slung off his jacket and looked pretty menacing. His wife was still sitting on the cart and had her hand out for money, to which I shook my head. It was a very unnerving confrontation and eventually I simply said goodbye and got inside my tent. I half expected the machete to come through.

I heard the cart move away and watched it disappear into the distance, where it stopped for a time about 500 metres away. I then saw a young boy coming towards me, who had obviously been instructed to do so by the couple. I was not keen for another confrontation and stood in front of the tent and stared him down. He got to within 50 metres and stopped (pictured below), staring intently back at me. He eventually turned around when it got dark and shuffled back towards the village a few kilometres away.

It’s days like this that make you feel mortal. I admit to being a bit envious of the people passing in Land Cruisers. I also feel real loneliness for the first time in the trip, and wish Sarah was here with me so I could talk to her about the most forgettable day of the trip. People ask me how cycle touring’s different to backpacking, and I usually focus on the positives. But actually one of the big differences is that when you travel by most other means you don’t have days like this. Days where you cannot believe that this is a holiday and that you actually chose to be here. They are rare, but they are part of cycle touring.

Day 15 - Menkab - Nyalam

Distance – 80kms
Max Altitude – 5100m
Riding time – 7 hours 15 mins

Tibet had one last test for me. Two passes over 5000m, incredible headwinds, amazing views and abysmal roads. A spectacular finale.

The day started the hard way, scraping ice off the tent (including the inside). The water bottle inside the tent with me froze, and despite having every piece of clothing on, a -10 sleeping bag, two silk inner sheets and a polar inner sheet I hardly slept last night due to the extreme cold. Imagine the temperature was something like -20 celsius. Sleep was also hindered by a fear of the couple – or other villagers – returning to get me or the bike. It didn’t happen, but in my state of mind I was sure it would.

Today was the day that I actually crossed the Himalaya, rather than foothills. I got off to a painfully early start – about 8am – and was straight on to the first climb. It was 12kms long and steep, with progress made difficult by the rocky surface and strong winds. I was able to sustain a good rhythm and summitted after an hour and a half. Half the job done.

From here the road plunged about 500m of vertical, revealing unbelievable views of the Himalaya. There was something intimidating about being caught in the middle of the world’s largest range. The climb back up (pictured right), and over, the Himalaya was the most difficult of the trip. It was also the first time I had seriously feared for my safety on a bike. It was so cold, so exposed and so isolated that I feared that if I stopped pedalling I would become hypothermic. The climb only lasted 8kms but was 12% in places. At one point I came across a broken down truck and sheltered in the wheel arch for 10 minutes. Deep breath, deep breath, close my eyes and then I was off to cross the final 2kms to the summit.

The view from the top was spectacular and it felt like I could touch the peaks. I lingered alone at the pass and knew I had made it through. The next 10kms were the most exhilarating downhill imaginable, with dirt roads, sheer drops and amazing scenery. At the bottom it was back to reality, with a monstrous headwind that did not let up til I hit Nyalam (the dust thrown up by the wind captured in the photo at the bottom of page). At times I was doing less than 10kph on the downhills at full effort. I broke for lunch in a truck stop town called Yarne and ate rice noodle soup with a dozen urchins watching every sip. I also looked a sight with my bottom lip completed covered in coldsores from the wind exposure, and the kids seemed a bit intimidated by the dust-covered tourist that looked like he’d been in a fight that he’d lost.

Towards the end of the day I started to come good and felt better the nearer I got to Nyalam. Even the 10kms of roadworks before town though mud and slush were no problem, and I rolled into town just before 5pm and found a $10 hotel where I could store my bike in the room. As was true of most hotels I had stayed in, there was no shower but I was able to use a communal one in town with hot water for a couple of dollars. It had been five days since I had showered – and about 30 hours of cycling had created quite a film. The woman running the showers saw Superman walk in and Clark Kent walk out, and had to have a double take.

I had some fried rice and was able to make a call to Sarah. It was great to talk to her, and it was the first time I had spoken to anyone in a few days. It was nice to talk to someone who knew me, and where certain things didn’t need to be said to be understood.

I am currently enjoying a Lhasa beer and mushroom soup. I realise that today I rode more than 7 hours on three quarters of a bowl of instant noodles. In part it is due to the fact that food is hard to come by, but a contributing factor is altitude which suppresses your appetite. As I sit here silently dreading the fact that the Tibetan phase of the trip is over tomorrow I wonder if I will ever return to the high plateau. I will need to get an early start to get through border control, but it’s all downhill so should be OK. My room is cold, but a furnace compared to last night.

Day 16 - Nyalam - Nepal

Distance – 65kms
Max Altitude – 4500m
Riding time – 4 hours

Sometimes the profile map doesn’t tell the full story. A massive drop in altitude looked enticing on paper but the road was horrendous. Roadworks made the 30kms of steep descent a muddy mess. It included difficult river crossings, thick mud and incredible sheer drop-offs (pictured right). This was the most technical mountain biking I have done, and made more difficult by the 25kgs of gear on my bike that plays havoc with your stability. The scenery changed from barren plains to lush rainforest the deeper I went into the canyon.

As I neared the border a few things were noticeable: the landscape was more lush, the people were more sub-continental in appearance and the begging seemed to stop. Coming into the border town a piece of wire pierced my front tyre, and a local villager rushed over to help me change it. I appreciated the help as the descent had taken much longer than I had anticipated and I needed to get to the border by 11.30am. It was a zoo of cars, trucks and buses snaking down the Monaco-like roads – absolute pandemonium. I ran into Ian and Liz, the English couple, at the border control and rode through no man’s land (the 10kms between the Tibetan and Nepali borders) and on to The Last Resort, and we had an Everest Beer or two to celebrate on arrival (pcitured below).

The resort would be home for the next couple of days, and was like a tropical paradise compared to what I had become used to. The bridge to the resort was imposing – a suspension bridge nearly 200m above the river below – which I pedalled across very nervously. I was able to enjoy a few beers with a few other travellers staying there – a few of them cyclists – and felt a great sense of achievement. Still 100kms to Kathmandu, but tonight was a big occasion.

Day 17 - The Last Resort, Nepal

Rest Day

Wokeup a bit ropey after one too many Everest beers, and took up the offer of an American group to go hiking into the hills above the resort (pictured right). It was a four-hour hike and satisfying as I’m not much of a walker. I really love it here and Nepal has already made a big impression on me. I’ve also met some great travellers here and it will be good to catch up with a few of them in Kathmandu.

Also had dinner with the same group - I actually have quite a bit in common with a few of them. The hike took the sting out of me - along with the heat - and not really looking forward to climbing back on the bike tomorrow. I also had to change tents tonight and have someone sharing with me whom I haven't met yet. Hope my stuff's OK...

Day 18 - The Last Resort - Kathmandu

Distance – 105kms
Max Altitude – 2200m
Riding time – 6 hours

Big climb, unfamiliar heat, chaotic traffic and oh so much oxygen in my lungs. The day began just after 8.30am (crossing the bridge from the resort pictured right) and it was pretty fast going for the first few hours as I snaked down through the lush valley. At about 40kms in I hit the day’s big climb – 26kms – which started out OK but got progressively steeper. I was starting to feel it with heat being an unfamiliar factor.

The traffic was also mad, and you had to listen carefully as you climbed to make sure that you didn’t come into a narrow section of road at the same time that a large bus did. There were a few close calls. I did manage to get some encouragement along the way – Tom, Rick, Astra, Toby and Kim were part of a group that I had met at the Last Resort and they shouted some encouragement out of the window near the top. It was a good boost. I saw Ian and Liz at the top of the climb (they’d headed off the day before) and we rode together for a couple of kilometres but then I decided it was safer to press on. 15kms from the centre of town the roads turned to complete chaos. There were no clear lines of traffic and vehicles were all moving at different speeds: pedestrians, cars, scooters, bicycles and trucks. The best way to progress was to keep a high speed and ride aggressively to hold your place in the vehicular ecosystem.

I didn’t have a map of Kathmandu – a city of 3 million people – but it wouldn’t have helped as there are no street signs. I used the compass and got a running commentary of motor bike riders as I rode to find the Thamel district. I was able to track down the guesthouse I was looking for without having to get off my bike – a reasonable achievement given the mayhem on the roads. I took a celebratory photo to mark the end of the journey (below).

After arriving I checked out some mountain bike shops, indicating that I was prepared to sell mine to avoid the excess baggage. It also turns out that the Nepali Mountain Bike Championships are on Saturday, and I decided to enter. I also cleaned up the bike so I can shop it around tomorrow.

I also caught up with the hiking group who had encouraged me on the hill, and went out for pizza dinner. I was really grateful to them for including me as they didn’t have to let me tag along but I really appreciated the good company.

Kathmandu is mad, as there are no clear footpaths and vehicles fight with pedestrians for space. Every second shop sells mountaineering equipment, Tibetan artefacts and jewellery, but shopping isn’t really my thing.

I am satisfied by what I have done, but daunted by the return to reality. As Tibet becomes more distant I have reflected on my impressions:

• An amazing place to visit but not somewhere that will bring me back again and again
• Chinese authority hangs over you constantly, and creates a strange feeling of semi-paranoia
• The environmental conditions on the plateau are extreme, and you quickly forget the power of the wind, cold and altitude to make life difficult. It is a hard place to live.

The Tibetans are a people that I feel for. They have lost their independence and seem to have given up fighting for it. The begging was particularly distressing and I feel for the next generation of Tibetans that grow up thinking that this is an income. I don’t blame them but find it incredibly sad.

I am also glad I did this trip when I did. In three years the road will be paved between Lhasa and Kathmandu and the frontier feel will no doubt go with it. New hotels will rise as Chinese tourists do the trip in sedans, and the people along the way will see none of the spoils.