Leg 3 - The Ride Home

The ride home

After several attempts at trying to get back to Pokhara after my run – I was finally aboard the 6:10am flight – at about 10am. So confident was the airline that the flight was going to be cancelled, they didn’t even charge me until the plane had touched down and was ready to load. I’m typically a very good flyer – in fact, I love flying – but knowing that this same airline, flying this same route, met it’s demise amongst the unfortunate loss of 27 people only a month earlier, I had reason to be a bit jittery. That being said – judging by the amount of buses I’d seen rolled on their side in the weeks prior, I had hedged my bets. Thankfully it was a short flight and after some weaving through the high mountains, I was again back safe on terra firma, fully prepared for a day of rest before jumping back on the bike the following day.

Being back on the bike and on the main highway was a shock to the system, both physically and mentally. The legs had to get back to going round and round and the mind had to focus less on the mountain scenery and more on dodging potholes and avoiding oncoming buses. The latter of which was only narrowly accomplished on more than one occasion. 

After a fairly sedate few hours I turned off to a little town in the hills called Bandipur. I was planning another rest day here before the final push for home. My brother described the ride up to town as “a good climb”……knowing his penchant for understatement, along with the firm knowledge that time can wash the pain of a ride away and only leave the good memories – I took a deep breath, inhaled an energy gel and started spinning……and spinning and spinning. Up and up I went on the switchbacking road, finally cresting the hill and into town an hour later after a 6km / 500m climb. Not sure what the locals thought when I rolled into this sleepy little town with my shirt off, sweating bullets and looking every bit like a weary and weird foreigner.

Roadside snacks to keep me going

Bandipur - High in the hills

The climb was worth it though as Bandipur turned out to be a favourite place of mine. A little village lost in time on the top of a hill, with ancient Newari architecture to stare at while people watching in the cafes of the car-less bazaar. The main pastime here seems to be laughter, resting and watching – exactly what I was after!

Kids in Bandipur

Waiting. Watching

Momma from the hotel

Bandipur - quiet streets

My little room - awesome character

Newari Architecture

With fresh legs and a full belly, I was on the home stretch. Rolling fast back down the hill from hell, I was back on the main highway and spinning freely. Looking for one last adventure though, I decided it a good idea to take the “back way” to Kathmandu and headed north for the hills again after lunch.

I am still unsure as to whether I made the right decision on this one. If it was an adventure I was seeking – I sure did get it! I’d asked my standard rule of 3 people about the road before deciding to take it – hotel dude number 1 said “gravel, hard”, hotel dude number 2 said “all paved” and the lonely planet states “an upgraded road”……this was a 50/50 bet at best! But with a little time on my side, and the diesel fumes of the highway starting to get to me, I went for it.

Everything started well with a nice paved road heading steeply into the hills. The silence and lack of traffic bought a smile to my face as I settle down to my evening noodles at randomville for the night. The following morning however, things took a turn for the, well, for the harder. Dirt is one thing, climbing is another, dust is yet another, but when you have all 3 – it makes for tough going. After 2 hours I looked down at my speedo – 11kms! Then I looked my bike up and down, not to mention my filthy body and started wondering if a truck today would be a better option! Making matters worse was my lack of food for the day. My snack bag was empty and my idea of “grabbing something on the way” just wasn’t materializing.

The "upgraded road"

Rest stop

Roadside mini wash

Quick wash

Onwards I went though, finally the talcum powder dust started to give way to a more solid, yet broken rocky road and some slow progress was made. I finally made it to a dingy guest house on a highway town, having managed a total of 42km in 6.5 hours of riding for the day, I was filthy, had fallen off twice and was altogether cooked for the day. I put the day down to the second hardest I’ve had on a touring bike, settled down for a beer and quickly passed out on the rock hard mattress of the hovel guest house.

The dirt road I climbed all morning

Sweet tan

The last day was supposed to shape up like a dream – a long, steady climb to gain the ridge and then a “free flowing descent” into Kathmandu valley on a road – so quoted the Lonely Planet (which is now being burnt). The long steady climb was just that – LONG. 4 and a half hours to be precise with not a single change of gear from gear number 1. Not to worry though – I’d got a 6 am start due to the road noise at the guest house and so was looking forward to steaming downhill into KTM before lunch, borad smiles and sense of completion on my face.

As if to through me one last curveball though – once I crested the hill and filled up on rice and samosas, the road turned to rubbish. It was almost uncanny, as soon as it started descending, the smooth road I’d been climbing turned to a half constructed, dirt filled mess. I couldn’t quite figure out if it was remnants of earthquake damage or whether they were just rebuling the road, or both, but the sweet descent I was looking forward to turned into a wrist jamming bumpy ride as I had to sit on the brakes, my arse bouncing up and down as the Valley seemed to never appear.

Not the road I was hoping for

This kid was fascinated by what was going on

Exactly 7 hours after I’d left the hovel in the morning, I was finally navigating my way through the KTM traffic and back to my hotel. I’d only taken one short break for the day so my legs were nearing their end and I rolled in, happy but exhausted. The hotel staff seemed to remember me, but had looks on their face that seemed confused as to why I looked a log shaggier than when I started!!!

So here in Kathmandu I am resting and awaiting the journey home. It's been a great trip! 

Final thoughts

I loved Nepal – it really was a great trip, full with interesting and warm people, great food and amazing scenery. I would say the riding was harder than anticipated for me, but part of it was my fault for ambitious route selection and part was the heat in the early days. On the weather – ideally for cycling I would have came a few mths earlier and enjoyed cooler days and better views of the Himalayas. That being said, any earlier would have compromised my ability to run over a 5,400m pass. The trek circuit I did is susceptible to temperatures to -40 and blizzard conditions – in fact, 11  people had died on the pass the previous year when caught in a white out. I didn’t fancy that. I chose this time of year as the run was the primary focus for this trip.

At the end of the day – you cant plan for perfect weather when you are travelling at sea level, then to the mountains, then back again and overall it was good. I didn’t have any rain or wind and those are the things that can really turn cycling sour.

I’d definitely recommend Nepal to anyone looking for an interesting, cheap and easy trip. The people are very helpful and accommodating, the food is excellent and there really are things to do for everyone – you don’t HAVE to cycle and trek.

Namaste.

For the nerds (me);

Cycling Stats

Total Days :10

Total saddle hours: 52hrs :46mins

Total Distance: 717km

Total Ascent: 10,077m

Running Stats

Total Distance: 142 km

Total Moving Time: 21 hours, 27 mins

Total Ascent: 5,699 m

Total Descent: 4,245 m

All done

Leg 2 - The run around

“Are you ascending more than 500m a day?”

“Are you exerting yourself at altitude?”

“Are you sleeping more than 1,000m higher each night?”

 Tick, Tick, Tick….

“Well you are officially in the class of medium risk for HACE and HAPE and as your doctor, I suggest altering your plans”…this would have been sound advice if I had of visited a bit earlier than the day of departure. Oh well – armed with some altitude medication and a healthy dose of “you’re an idiot” from my GP – I was away.

After a day’s rest in Pokhara and some logistics sorting, I was feeling pumped for the next leg of my adventure. The Annapurna circuit has fascinated me for some time. It the perfect circuit – a manageable distance, some serious mountains, the world’s highest pass, all dotted with interesting villages to help house, feed and secure a weary traveler. Consequently – there would be no need to carry camping or cooking gear, nor excessive layers of clothing - meaning I could move fast and light through spectacular mountain scenery. Even better – as a point to point run – I could get a taxi to the start and a flight from the end.

Im definitely no expert runner – in fact I’d describe myself as decidedly middle of the pack. A steady plodder I guess. Sometimes my plodding is faster than other times but rarely results in a finish anywhere near a podium. But that’s ok, it’s more about the challenge within isn’t it? Like many others, running is my vehicle – my vehicle for health and happiness and escape from the daily grind. – and this was a challenge that had all that in spades.

After cycling from Kathmandu to Pokhara, I had left my bike in the safe hands of a hotel and packing the bare essentials for a planned 6 day odyssey through the Annapurna region. Traditionally, this trek is tacked as a 12 – 18 day venture, complete with porters, acclimatization days and structured planning – none of which I had the luxury or inclination of entertaining. My goal was to complete in 6 – 5 days of running and 1 enforced acclimatisation day from the medical experts.

At the start line

The driver from Pokhara must have known I needed a warm up as he was doing his best to ensure I get a morning core exercise as he screeched and screamed the 3 hours to the start line in a quaint village of Besisahar. After a full serve of chow mein and some last minute gear adjustment - I was away – making it a full 500m before the chow mein made its way back out. Lucky for me i had toilet paper in the pocket!!!

While Besisahar is the official start point of the circuit, lately the road construction taking place has encouraged most trekkers to get a jeep for the first section of track. There’s a lot of talk about the road construction and its removal of the "purity" of the trek. I can’t say I take the same view. Sure, maybe some tracks that were formally only fit for walkers can now accommodate jeeps, but these jeeps and trucks that ferry villagers up and down are the same ones that carry supplies that the very trekkers who oppose the road rely on. It’s all well and good to say "road construction is ruining the trek", but you cant say that while enjoying the cold beer and snickers bar at the end of a tough day. Besides - I think its a shame that people skip the start as I had a lovely run through terraced fields and small villages and was happy to buy some snacks and do my bit to support the villages who’ve lost some business because of the road. I got passed by about one slow moving truck every 30 mins on an otherwise makeshift gravel road - so it was barely the Hume highway!!!

Alas, I shall digress. I made good time through the early stages and was in for a lunch break around the 20km mark when I heard the familiar rumblings synonymous with mountain weather....yep, after  a week in blazing sun, I was about to get smashed by wind and rain. Initially I tried to push through but gave up when it got heavy and sought refuge in what appeared to be an abandoned barn. All the time in Nepal I was being told that “rain is good – moves the clouds so you can see the mountains”, well I can tell you that I was not seeing good in any of it while I was huddled in a tin shed with the waft of goat shit in the air. It was still early afternoon so I still had time left to make it to my destination for the night....if the rain ever stopped! 2 hours later, I gave it another go, but after another 3 or 4 kms, I was drenched again and stumbled upon what would be my first bed for the night, slightly below my goal distance for the day but otherwise happy to be on the march.

Lush lowlands

Waiting out the storm

Slippery trails - day 1

Route Planning assistance 

The rain and wind that buffeted my window all night did in fact clear the clouds and I woke to picture perfect views of the mountains. A belly full of porridge later and I was on my way.

I read a quote recently that said "the first km is a liar - don't believe it for a second! " I like this because it can be read both ways - a good start doesn’t mean a strong day and vice versa. For me it’s typically a slow start as physically and mentally I like to have a few km behind me before I warm into it. Today was no exception as the initial descent changed into a grueling climb within the first hour. This would be the theme of the day – climbing! I guess its to be expected - the goal for today was a village at 2,700m and I started at 1,200m, so there was no hiding away from what was to come. I was feeling strong and happy though and every corner seemed to produce an even better view of the Annapurna range. Together with waterfalls, fascinating little villages serving me running snacks and perfect weather, life was good.

After a solid morning and another feed of rice and potatoes the day turned a but tricky with the weather rolling in and a sucker punch climb of 500m in 5km late in the day, knocking the stuffing out of me. I crawled into town after 5.5hrs on my feet and snuggled up by the guest-house cooking stove for the night – happy, but tuckered out.

Welcome to the village

Exposed trails

The next few days were absolute standouts – climbing high into the Himalayas and enjoying perfect views of the Annapurna range around every bend. I had to stop myself from asking villagers “how far until the next town…”. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting as a result – “yes sir, actually you have already run 30km, disregard that fancy watch of yours – it’s clearly broken”. Unfortunately my watch and maps are horribly accurate!! Not that there was a worry, the spectacular running coupled with absolutely vertical climbing and break neck descents made the days interesting and challenging.

I simply love being in the elements and when it’s windy or hot or raining or anything – I love the challenge of fighting through. Given I was facing a max altitude of 5,400m on day 6, the main element I was up against were the climbs. Switch back after switch back led me into the thin air. I’m certainly no Alpinist but I have been in the mountains enough to understand that clear conditions are far from a promise, rather a luxury enjoyed by few. I was that few. After a week of cycling in the murky air of the low lands, I was blessed by clear skies from sunrise to sunset, watching the alpenglow in the morning, getting red shoulders in the afternoons and watching the sun disappear behind the snow capped giants in the evening – I was one lucky runner.

First view of Annapurna 

Switch switch switchy

Heeding the doctors’ advice, I stayed a night at 3,600m to catch my breath. I felt strong and wanted to keep going, but secretly, my legs were happy with my decision and after 3 days I’d already covered 94km and over 4,000m of climbing, rest and refueling was a good idea.

Well equipped for trekkers, villages along the route are complete with bakeries, trekking shops and anything else a weary walker may want. Combined with the stunning scenery, it really is a luxury to finish each day at a “lodge”.

Cinnamon rolls and book reading in the sun would have to come to an end at some stage though as I was up and at it for the next stage. With the big kms behind me, now came the unknown – climbing up above my previous high point of 4,400m and towards the pass.

As I left Manang, it took me a whole 2 minutes to realise that running today, would be at best futile, and at worst, plain dangerous. The trail climbed steeply up switch back upon switch back as I wound along ridges following the ever deepening valley. The altitude was ticking off on my watch at an alarming rate, 3,500, 3,600, 3700…. after an hour, with a grand total of 6km under my belt, I found myself 600m higher than where I started, as the bakeries and luxuries of Manang disappeared into the valley below.

Entrance to Manang - day 3 - i was happy to see this!

Just when you think you are the crazy one  though– you come across people sillier than you – Australian’s obviously – who’d decided, evidently fool heatedly, that this would be a good place to ride your bike……let me tell you that there was more bike pushing than bike riding happening on these trails!

Altitude and heavy legs combined for a relatively tough day, but I was happy to get into base camp at 4,600m around noon for a big lunch and a consequential nap in the hammock.

Tempted to go against all logic and medical advice and attack high camp at 4,900m, I opted for the safe bet and stayed put for the night, mingling with other trekkers from all walks of life, excited to tackle the big pass the following morning.

Gnrly descents

Found Annapurna!!!

With the cold morning air awakening me in my concrete room, I was up and ready to tackle the pass by sun up. A steep climb greeted my morning haze and immediately I was catching my breath, striving hard to get to the pass in my self imposed 2 hour limit. Passing friends from the night before who seemed determined to pack as much as they could for the trip, I was happy to be moving faster than what I thought and made it up past high camp and onto the pass by 8am. Enough time to watch the sun slowly make its way over the snow capped peaks of Annapurna 2 and Thorung La, standing proud at 8,000m.

Topping out at 5,420m, this was the highest mountain I’d had the privilege of being atop and I was pretty stoked. There’s no guarantees in the mountains, but the gods must have been smiling down because we were greeted with postcard perfect skies, above 0 temperatures and a glorious morning, complete with some hot tea and a mars bar from the little shack on top.

On my way to the pass

Thorung La Pass

High Camp

Mr Roboto - high altitude guardian

Watching some familiar clouds on the horizon and keen for the descent that I’d been waiting for all week, I started down. And down and down and down…..now I absolutely love running down hill. The steeper more technical the better. In fact, the climbs are just a vehicle to get me to the descent the majority of the time. That being said – this was gnarly! Steep pitches, loose under footing and dramatic trails made for a knee busting, smile inducing, heart pounding fast few hours. I dropped like a stone off a bridge, falling from the snowy pass at 5,400 to the arid, desert like Mustang plains at around 2800m in about 90 mins. As I write this days later, my quads are still pulsating, but at the time, my grin could not have been wider! 34kms and 5 hours after leaving the snowy camp, I arrived at the dusty outpost of Jomson, tired, dirty, sweaty, but happy. I’d managed to complete the circuit in my goal of 5 days plus 1 rest and also come under my second goal of 24 hours moving time.

Now all that was left was to survive the 20 minute flight through the mountains the following day…

Me and Macchupurde - the only mountain forbidden to climb in the range

My chariot home

Descending into the arid Mustang region

HAH - High Altitude Horsey

Muchurpurde

Leg 1 - The Ride Out

The time has come...

There’s something a little bit surreal about arriving in a new country. Just a day earlier you are sitting at your parents, eating Pumpkin curry laksa and relaxing. Then suddenly you are transported to a new world, surrounded by new sights, smells, noises and customs. I don’t think it ever gets old – the feelings of nervousness and excitement coupled with a healthy dose of uncertainty. My arrival into Nepal was no different.

It’s always challenging travelling with a bike – first of all – they are heavy buggers and when you are by yourself it’s a work out just trying to get it out of the airport doors. That is, of course, once the hour long queue for a visa subsides. I had arranged old mate from the hotel to pick me up and together with his cousins / brothers / friends, we managed to squeeze the bike box into the back of his little Fiat and we were away. I was considering staying a day or 2 in Kathmandu, but after I settled into my hotel and did the customary walk around town, I was already getting itchy feet. With my body clock warped and forcing me wide awake the next day at 530am, it was settled – I would build the bike up and ride out of town on Day 1 – I’ve seen my fair share of temples anyway!

Taking to the road

Cycling in or out of a new city is always a tricky affair and Kathmandu was no exception. The streets are insanely narrow and there is no rhyme or reason to the way the traffic moves or where the roads go. Luckily though, I am borderline OCD and had drawn my map out of town on Google map, exported it to my phone mapping application and had it mounted on my handlebars. All I had to do was follow the blue line and it worked perfectly! Part of me felt bad for “cheating”, but a WAY bigger part of me was chuffed that I was out of Kathmandu relatively unscathed and soon to be climbing up into the hills.

Looking clean on day 1

And climb I did – and climb – and climb some more! Look, I knew Nepal was going to be hilly, I’m not an idiot – but I guess I was just hoping it wouldn’t start immediately. Nope, no such luck! After the initial getaway from the main city, I was climbing – and climbing fast. Sweat pouring down and heart rate racing, I had the familiar thoughts of “you’re an idiot”. The sucker punch to it was, once I finally got to descend – the road had turned from bitumen to absolute rubbish, so any chance of free rolling was substituted by a hands locked on brakes, arse bumping, brakes screaming descent. That was quickly followed by more of – you guessed it – climbing!

Climbing out of the valley

Tough roads - day 1

Just when I thought I’d be better on a bus, I witnessed what I hope is the closest I will ever come to a massive bus crash in my life. I was crawling up a few switchbacks as a bus was coming down. He’d decided to come in tight to the bend and managed to put his rear wheel in the ditch. At least 25 people jumped from the windows on the high side as the bus see-sawed on the broken road, threatening to topple over. I started thinking about where my first aid kit was just in case I needed to swing into action, but although it is fairly well stocked, I’m not sure I could have helped a bus full of squashed Nepalese. After much commotion, the bus screeched out of the ditch and continued down, with the disembarked passengers forced to chase after it. I shall be keeping this incident at the front of my mind when I need to decide between a short mountain flight and a bus ride at the end of my running trip!

Old wobbles wobbles

With the commotion of the near bus fatality over, I started thinking of finding someone to rest for the night, but with only 40km behind me, I was feeling sheepish about getting behind my schedule so early on. Just another hour or so I told myself…..well that would have been fine if I had of checked the map properly! That little village that appeared like the perfect place to find a bed for the night looked close on the map, but it turns out I wasn’t paying attention to the topographical particulars. So I left the random village which had a guest house beckoning me and continued on.

As I rounded the third switch back I was seriously considering turning back – but pride got the better of me and I kept climbing. Now I am pretty sure there are some rules about road construction and exactly what gradient you are allowed to make it! If there are – the Nepalese weren’t paying attention in road building school! Every corner seemed stepper than the next and I was constantly out of the saddle, willing my legs to spin the pedals over. What made matters more fun is the quantity of jeeps speeding up the hill. You see – they don’t like losing momentum, so they pretty much drive up as fast as their piece of shit TATA’s will let them and just sit on the horn at every blind corner. That’s fine when no-one is coming down, but if they are – the poor little cycle tourer ends up in the dirt!

An impromptu stop about half way up due to some road works was a good opportunity to dive down the bag for some emergency energy gels, as the boiled egg and chick peas I’d had for lunch were starting to wane. Finally, and after 1.5 hours of grinding up the pass I was welcomed by a friendly English speaking local in a worn out puffer vest who promptly yelled something to his wife that ended up with spicy noodles and water in front of me! He had a room to rent downstairs too and promised me a hearty breakfast to get me on my way in the morning. When I explained to him where I had ridden from he just responded nonchalantly,  “yeah I noticed you were sweating when you arrived”. Turns out those types of climbs are part and parcel around here!

So after a hearty meal of spicy noodles, tea, beer and some cookies, I settled into my room. The ever preset buzz of moths, combined with chickens scratching outside and flickering lights, all punctuated by the smell of day old urine in the squat toilet was not enough to stop me from falling into a deep sleep. Day 1 in the bag!

I woke the next morning to an unfortunate cover of cloud hindering what would have been an otherwise gorgeous morning outlook. Oh well – can’t change the weather I guess, and judging by how hard the rain was falling as I was nodding off to sleep last night, I count myself lucky. Old mate in the puffer jacket had a brekky of eggs, tea, juice and funky mountain bread whipped up for me and pretty soon I was loaded and on my way. I was planning 100km today so was keen to get moving.

As I rounded the first corner I saw my favourite road sign ever – the one of the little car descending down the hill. This was good news for my aching legs. Not so great for my wrists though as the steepness of the next 10km of riding was insane. My wrists jammed on the bars, brakes squealing beneath me as the altitude dropped and dropped. All the hard work from yesterday was flying by at a much more respectable pace. 40 mins later, I could ease up on the brakes and a quick glanced down confirmed my thinking – I’d dropped over 1,000m in just over 10km.  Now that’s a good start to the morning! The descent continued too, albeit more gently, and as I let go my first vocal “woooo” of the trip, I rolled peacefully through the rolling fields and warm morning air.

As with most touring days however – with the good comes the bad and after my morning stop of samosas and pakora, I turned from the quaint back roads to the main East- West highway where I would stay for the remainder of the day.

Sharp Descents

The road was flat and the riding fast, but the traffic amped up and the car horns continued with gusto. I cannot quite understand the penchant for a drivers’ horn usage – seriously, if you are coming TOWARD me and you are a truck, there is no need to toot. I can see you – and if I can’t – well I deserve to be hit! Alas – onwards I rolled. As I benefited from yesterdays climbing by continuously descending into a valley, the glory of fast rolling wheels was being overcome by the rising of the temperature…..35, 36, 37….up to a high of 40 degrees as I sweated through the midday heat. With no cool spots to rest it was actually better to keep riding and let the wind cool you down. The warmth forced some impromptu gear adjustments, with my long loved cycling hat that Gareth bough me in Uganda, receiving some “air conditioning vents” and the sleeves to my cycling jersey being ripped off. I was getting quite the looks as I stormed through town with my cycling jersey wide open exposing my pale white skin to the locals. Not sure if the cheers were that of joy or disgust!

Cycling hat - A/C mode

With my ipod on full noise with INXS Live at Wembley (1991) keeping my mind off my bikes squeaking bottom bracket, I chugged through the afternoon and after 101km, finally arrived at Chitwan National park. Apparently plenty of tourists come here for safari drives into the park to look for Bengal tigers and view Elephants. I feel like I have tapped out on safari’s in my life, so it was just a relaxing place to rest for the afternoon for me before getting back in the saddle tomorrow. Besides – a short stroll to the river and I saw a big fat Rhino grazing in the grass and some elephants cruising past my guest house anyway….no need for a paid safari for me!

Local Traffic

Chitwan National Park

Me and mr Rhino

Coffee and breakfast on the balcony of the hotel overlooking the river was a nice way to start the day, but provided little motivation to get going. Miles needed to be covered though, so I finally willed myself up and onto the bike to hit the highway. I was under no illusions that today would be pleasant. A quick glance of the map showed a flat highway, junction towns and no real interesting sights along the way. I felt the ipod might be my friend today – particularly with the old creeky bike driving me nuts!

One thing I didn’t consider too well for this trip is the heat – oh goodness the heat. Now I have ridden in some idiotic heat in my time – Myanmar last year comes to mind – but this was something else. It was constantly in the 40’s and making me sweat at record rates. I couldn’t keep up with my hydration and there was no shade to be seen for respite. An earlier start would have been a better idea!

That being said – it could have been worse – it could have been raining. Rain sucks!  Although the riding was unspectacular today, it’s always interesting to cycle by and watch the local life go by. Everyone is going somewhere – but I don’t know where! Scooter here, bus there, bike over there – what’s everyone doing in these towns!?!?!

 

Some friendly helpers

Map consulting committee

After a hot and flat 80k, I was faced with a big pass to end the day. Although I didn’t have much juice left to climb, the change in rhythm was a god send and I was happy to push up the hill and then roll freely down the other side. Arriving at a random junction town with the speedo reading 95km, I was faced with a dilemma….stop and stay here, or keep pushing, knowing that the next hotel was a further 35km. After the descent I was feeling great, but knowing that would wash away pretty quickly and with the sun finally starting to set, I decided on the former.

I know from experience that there are 2 towns you don’t want to stay for the night – border towns and junction towns! Well I was at the mother of the 2 – a junction town 20km up from the Indian border. Trucks, buses, cars….everywhere! The only decent hotel was on the corner of the main intersection. Refusing to stay right on the junction, I went in search of a back street, quiet room. I found the back street alright, the room though – well, let’s just say it ranks in my top 3 filthiest rooms I’ve stayed. I have a pretty good tolerance for filth – but this was next level. I mean, seriously – just rinse the saliva and toothpaste remnants from the last guess out of the sink at least!

A man, alone, in a filthy room

I washed and went walkabout for the night, finding a dive place to eat and have a beer while being entertained by some local kids insistent on asking me questions. I was pretty much doing anything to avoid heading back to the filth factory. Heavy eyes defeated me though and I retired to a night of restless sleep on my sarong with my flannel shirt as a pillow, being eaten by mosquitoes and almost blown away by the ceiling fan with only one speed – turbo!

Relaxing in the street to avoid filth factory

Desperate to get out of filth factory, I was on the road early and with the sun at my back, was feeling pretty excited about the day ahead. I just needed to get the first 35km of flat, dusty roads out of my way and I would start heading north for the mountains. Now, I knew that there was some serious climbing ahead, which typically makes my legs shake with angst, I also knew that the destination for the night was perched high on a hilltop, 1,300m up, with the thought of a cooler climate something to look forward to. After my “mis-management” of food on the first day, I have been determined to keep the fuel intake up and avoid "angry Greg" from making an appearance on this trip. Luckily for me, Nepal is an easy country for a hungry vegetarian with all the villages serving up their takes on delicious daal / naan / noodles / miscellaneous deep fried snacks. I have only had to go down the cookies and snickers bar route on one occasion which must be a record for me!

This particular morning though, i'd only had an energy bar for breakfast and thus stopped after an hour for a top up. Now, I’ve met some randoms in my time – but to sit down in a food shack in a dusty junction town and then be greeted by a man who is local to the town, but lives in Glenroy, Victoria….that’s a new one! Turns out old mate was on holiday back to his village and kept me company as I smashed through some more daal and entertained his stories about AFL, Melbourne life and everything in between.

Fantastic Riding

Another short ride and another plate of noodles later, I was ready for the serious climbing of the day. I’ve been following my brother’s blog which followed this same route a few years back and knew I was in for a treat of a day. The highway quickly started climbing and winding its way up a narrow gorge as I pushed North. Small villages clung on the hillside, the whizzing busses seemed to disappear and for the most part, it was just me and my creaky bike keeping me company. The solitude was bliss and this was the type of Nepal I was looking forward to - a side of the country I wasn't sure was going to materialize after a few days on the flat, hot plains. 

Battleship striking a pose

The hope of the heat dissipating was unfortunately misguided as the mercury seemed to rise as I climbed. I’ve banned myself from looking at my thermo as I ride now as it messes with my head, but at one check it read a balmy 47 degrees. The locals thought I was crazy as I kept stopping everytime I saw a little water trickling off the side of the road, dunking my head, face and neck in an attempt to cool off. My cycling hat has now entered “Air Conditioning turbo mode” with the entire top section cut out so as to release some heat while keeping me shaded. I doubt I’ll be winning any fashion awards over here!

Old mate obviously not feeling the heat.....black on black

Balmy

Cycling hat - fully air conditioned

Despite the heat, the riding was spectacular with nice views and friendly kids cheering me on as I passed through town. Whatever must they have though as this bearded white stranger staggered through town, shirt open, hat ripped up, bike creaking and sweat pouring from his face.

The destination for the day was Tansen – a high mountain village that loomed over the valley as it came into view. This was a climb not to be tackled lightly, so in preparation, I stopped for a massive bowl of fried rice, more water and a little internal pep talk. 500m of climbing over 5km is nothing to sneeze at, particularly when it rounds out the day, but my legs felt strong and I kept going up and up until I finally reached town. I will admit – the final climb up the impossibly steep streets of town was assisted by a few young lads who must have seen my anguish and helped push me up. Making up for the filth factory of the night prior, I checked into a relatively fancy place ($25 – shower doesn’t work so had to use the arse cleaner hose thingy, sweet view tough) and chilled out for the night.

Steep town - Tansen

View from my room - Tansen

Street art - Tansen

Dead slow - don't have to tell me twice

Although I was up again with the sun, I was enjoying the relatively comfortable digs and spent the morning strolling the town, eating samosas, walking impossibly steep streets and doing some photography. I’d given myself the next 2 days to get the 125km to Pokhara anyway, so there was no great rush. Once I did climb onto the battleship, the legs were heavy from the day before so lucky for me today was down down and more down – back into the canyon and winding around the ridges until I finally got to my half way point of Waling. 

The mountain scenery is beautiful in these parts and really does encourage a more relaxed pace. The villages were full of kids cheering support, some running alongside me as I sweated up the little pinches. I really enjoyed the pace of life here, everyone was friendly and happy to help when I stopped looking hungry and thirsty. On my last day into Pokhara I managed to meet a few fellow cyclists who were travelling in the opposite direction. They had been emailing my brother for Nepal route advice and knew I was coming. We shared a chat and some tips on the road ahead and they also put me in contact with a cycle tourer in Pokhara who coincidentally manages a hotel. It’s a small world and even smaller for silly bike tourers and as luck would have it, I tracked down their contact here in Pokhara and he is putting me up for a few nights and babysitting my bike while I go on running adventures! Legend.

Cycle touring friends on the road

My little bike mechanic

Free physics lesson with every samosa

So here I am, 450 odd km complete on the bike and bag packed for my running adventures to start tomorrow. Unfortunately the Himalayas have been hiding behind the clouds all week so I haven’t seen exactly what I am in for yet – but judging by the long shadows I was riding in yesterday, cast by ever increasingly prominent peaks as I headed North, I’ve got a fair idea!

Running kit - ready to go!