Namaste!
A long journey has come to its end... The arrival in Kathmandu, Nepal
marked the final kilometers of my 17'751km bicycle tour. The last weeks
were filled with some of the most beautiful moments of my life. Western
Tibet has caught me and a deep admiration of this amazing place has
grown.
...
In Ali, a bigger town in the far west of Tibet, I stayed only for a
night. The Public Security Bureau (police) extended my visa without
any problems by another month, but it the extension started right away...
I was hoping for a rest day or two, as I cycled without interruption
(mountain climbing apart) from Kashgar, some 1300km away. But the great
relief that my stay in Tibet would not end in Ali washed away the fatigue
and the prospect of all the fantastic places ahead (somewhere very far
away was Everest base camp!) helped me jump on the saddle right on the
following day. Before leaving, I made a big shopping tour in the supermarket
and bought half a kilo of chocolate (not too bad ones, but still not
Swiss ;) ), some strange sort of cereal mix for breakfast (see later
;) ), two small bricks of cocoa milk mix (excellent!) and a couple of
other things I won't be able find during the coming 1000km or so. Just
as I pushed my (now heavily loaded) bicycle out of the hotel courtyard,
I met the Tibetan police officer again. I had seen him the day before
when I went for my permit & visa. He was in very good mood and gave
me a firm handshake wishing me good luck. It looked like a rather good
idea to tell the police the truth that I would be here bicycle and not
by truck. Ali kept me for another half an hour... I definitely had to
get some nice food in a restaurant before leaving civilisation ;).
Cycling went very easy out of Ali. For some strange reasons, there's
a 80km stretch of perfectly smooth asphalt. Even without tailwind, it
would feel like flying, but a strong wind helped me even more... Suddenly,
I was reaching speeds that would have destroyed my bicycle in minutes
on the rough roads before Ali. Without any effort, my bicycle was flying
over the plain beyond Ali. I soon reached the foot of a small pass...
again, getting up the couple of hundreds of vertical meters couldn't
be felt... How a bicycle tour can be enjoyable ;). The weather turned
slightly worse during the last night. Then in the afternoon, heavy clouds
got pushed against the hillsides and roaring thunders could be heard.
Once on the top, the view opened up towards a broad and green valley.
The tiny river making its way through it would flow all the way through
Kashmir and Pakistan (the Indus). There were even more heavy clouds
pushed over the mountain range in the South. Headwind became very stiff
and my legs felt suddenly very tired... the couple of hours of rest
in Ali had simply been not enough. I reached Namru, a tiny Tibetan village,
and soon afterwards I found a nice campspot. Nearby, there would a turn-off
to the Ayi La, a mighty 5600m pass leading towards the Guge kingdom
and the Tholing monastery... according to all what a read a really fascinating
place! Back in Ali, I got really excited by adding some 350km to make
a very rough detour there... but I would have to cycle at least 70km
every day for the whole trip until Nepal... not counting the time for
visits to Mt. Kailash and Mt. Everest... just insane, considering the
road conditions that would be ahead (potential sickness and bicycle
problems put aside).
On the next morning, I felt already much better. The weather had cleared
up and the stiff headwind had gone. For breakfast, I was very much looking
forward to taste the cereal mix I bought. It was a huge package, despite
its meager content of 600g. The producer strangely named the whole thing
'Black Cow' and put some very entertaining English text on the package
(quote: 'this product is prepared with science'). The content of the
whole thing was actually 20 tiny packages, each containing a spoonfull
of the cereals, but bloated up with air to make them look big. Funny
enough the first one I opened was empty... Anyway, in the end, I managed
to squeeze out some calories out of the heap of plastic.
The road was still paved where I camped, but just a couple of kms later
the good, old gravel track started again. I felt very much reliefed,
as I feared that the Chinese might have added more asphalt last winter.
Cycling on a paved road in a beautiful and lonely landscape can be real
torture. Of course, it was very easy to cycle, but the asphalt completely
destroyed the sense of wilderness and adventure... So, I was happy to
be back again on the bumpy gravel ;). But the track soon turned very
bad and progress became very tiring to the point that I almost regretted
my hatred of paved roads ;). Heavy rainclouds got pushed over the Southern
mountain range, just like the day before. An hour later, I was already
cycling under heavy rain. Thick fog was creeping down the mountain side
and covered the landscape in a monotonous grey. The hours of cycling
under the rain passed without much notice. My mind somehow had dived
into the usual state of ‘numbness’. Many small streams were
formed and the road quickly filled with mud and water. I felt lucky
whenever, I didn’t get stuck in one of the big ponds.
When suddenly the army base appeared out of the mist, I was very much
looking forward to find a hot meal. It was shortly before sunset and
some rice would be really nice. I found the restaurant that was mentioned
in the roadbook and negiotated price and ingredients. My wet clothes
made me shivering while I was waiting for the food to be prepared. The
tiny restaurant filled with Chinese truck drivers and probably some
military guys. The food was great... again the woman sensed somehow
that somebody on a bicycle would have a huge appetite and I got a big
bowl of rice. After the filling dinner, I hardly cycled more than one
km. Just far enough to find a campspot beside the road. As I was pitching
up my tent, a couple of dogs started barking loudly nearby. Probably,
I was occupying their territory. But I couldn’t be bothered, I
just threw a some stones in their direction to show that my intention
to stay would be serious ;).
The weather seemed to followed the same rhythm every day, as the morning
was again quite sunny. This was really practical, as I could dry my
moist sleeping bag and clothes. In the early afternoon, rainclouds gathered
as usual. Even the little joke that the rain was playing with me repeated
itself everyday: the rain would stop for a short while, long enough
to make me consider to stop and eat lunch, just to start raining again
when I finished unpacking my food ;). The landscape passed hardly noticed.
The clouds were hanging low and the lack of sunshine made everything
look rather monotonous. In Misar, a small Tibetan town, I stopped to
have a warm meal. Many Tibetan eyes were following me, while I was looking
for a nice place to eat. Too bad that in most Tibetan-run restaurants
only instant-noodles were served (I’m eating this every evening
in my tent anyway... and it’s not exactly tasty food, at least
not after thirty times). So, I had to find a Chinese ‘restaurant’
to get some freshly prepared food. I ordered two different dishes, a
nice soup and some fried rice. The food was excellent, although the
cook just got waken up by my arrival and looked rather disgruntled by
the work I’m causing. The sky cleared up very much when I continued
cycling. I knew that it would be only a matter of a few dozens of kms
to reach Mt. Kailash, the holiest mountain for Buddhists, Hinduists
and others. The landscape widened and a large range of snow-capped peaks
became visible towards the South. Could this already be Nepal? Then
suddenly a realised that towards the North another peak appeared. Kailash?
The prospect of all these amazing mountains made me continue until late
in the evening. For camping, I wanted to have my tent at a place where
I could see the Kailash mountain range in the morning. So, I had to
cycle on for a while.
The next morning was rather disappointing. The clouds were hanging low
over the mountains. At least, it wasn’t raining. I took some time
to write up my diary, still in my warm sleeping bag. Then, it was time
to pack up and start another cycling day. Just when I had finished stuffing
my equipment into the panniers and fixing them onto my bicycle, I violent
hail storm suddenly swept over the plain. The ice smashing on my unprotected
hands was quite painful and I quickly decided to get under the cover
of my empty tent to wait it out. After ten minutes the hail was over
and as I got out, I saw everything covered with a fine layer of ice.
Hail turned into rain and accompained me for the first half an hour
of cycling. The weather changes amazingly quickly in these places and
after another ten minutes, I had to remove all my rain gear, the sun
was brightly shining. Over a slowly ascending gravel track, I reached
a rivercrossing. Deep enough to take think a short moment how to best
get across. I decided to remove my socks but to keep my trekking shoes
on (I don’t carry sandals, too heavy). The water temperature was
icy. I managed to get across without any problems, despite a quite strong
current. Doing these things is one of the most exciting moments of cycling.
Once your in the water and fight against the current, you can’t
get enough... On the other side, I put on my Goretex socks, so that
I would keep reasonably warm feet.
After an almost flat pass, Mt. Kailash finally came into view. The clouds
had lifted just enough to reveal the whole mountain. What a beautiful
sight! The perfectly shaped flanks, covered with eternal snow were rising
high above the Tibetan plains. At 6709m, Mt. Kailash belongs to the
rare unclimbed peaks at these altitudes. Its religious importance prevented
so far any attempt. At the same time, the Chinese authorities are very
much willing to desacrifice Kailash by issueing climbing permits.
The view lasted only for a couple of minutes, then the black clouds,
that were haning for quite a while towards the South, were approaching
quickly. Another violent thunderstorm was coming. I had just enough
time to put on full raingear. I continued cycling towards Darchen, the
next small town. The thunderstorm was now straight over me. I got quite
a bit scared as the wide plains offered no shelter at all and the lightnings
seemed to striked closer and closer. The road turned into a broad stream,
with water running along all the different jeep tracks. My bicycle sank
in deeper and deeper into the mud. Almost like under hypnosis, I pushed
on. A couple of lightinings could be heard direct above my head, with
just a second or so of delay between light and thunder. Then, I had
to cross a small river. Instead of pushing my bicycle, I simply tried
to cycle through the water. I didn’t care anymore about getting
wet. At a distance, Darchen became visible. Still, there was another
one and a half hours of cycling left with even more rivers, by then
swollen from the thunderstorm.
Rather exhausted, I reached Darchen. My only thought was to get a hotel
room, where I could get rid of my wet clothes and warm up. As I passed
a tea house, a friendly Tibetan offered to show me a hotel. He brought
me to an ugly multi-storey block of concrete. Luckily the price was
too high anyway. Then, I got to the right place… (to be continued
in more detail)
...
A first step on my journey, since I wrote you last time, has been Holy
Mt. Kailash. It's the much revered place for Hinduist, Buddhist, as
well as for the followers of the ancient Bon religion of Tibet. A kora
(circuit-walk) around the the mountain washes away the sins of a lifetime.
Situated in a landscape of stark beauty, Mt. Kailash is towering out
with its perfectly shaped flanks. After the kora, I cycled also to a
monastery at Holy Lake Manasarovar, according to legend the source of
four main Asian streams (among them the Indus and the Brahmaputra, flowing
to Pakistan and India/Bangladesh respectively). The encounter with the
Tibetans and their religious devotion left a deep mark inside me. I
felt being in a very special corner of this planet... not least for
the outstanding views on the Himalayan plains and mountains.
...
Cycling turned very rough later on the journey. Long stretches of deep
sand and strong winds brought cycling speed down. Food got very monotonous...
too long were the distances between villages and I had to keep the weight
of my bicycle reasonable. In addition, the tyre chambers had increasingly
big holes, to the point where I couldn't make normal patches hold on
them... Running out of rubber solution wasn't helpful either. But I
was fighting hard to not having to take a truck to the next town...
the very last patch I could glue on was sticking on its place... I made
it!
...
The monsoon was reaching over the Himalayan range early. On July, 1
thick clouds were gathering and it got rainy. While Indians might be
dancing in the streets celebrating a 'good' monsoon... for a Tibet cyclist
this is rather annoying. I had daily sunshine and wonderful views, but
also many serious rainstorms.
...
The luck was on my side. The coming day cleared up the view, after
days of rainstorms... The whole beauty of Chomolungma (Everest) was
revealed... The north face of the mountain was towering high above my
tent. A terrifying sight of snow, ice and rock. Somewhere beyond reality,
there was the summit. I was staring for hours at the mountain... Then,
the sunset brought an even more fantastic spectacle. A thin and perfectly
smooth cloud was going around the summit and the last sunrays were diving
the valley into a golden light. The very last sunlight reaching the
planet in these places was touching the summit... with a backdrop of
deep blue and violet sky. Definitely a day that will remain for long
in my memories!
Best wishes & see you soon,
Daniel
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