Of course as in Hindu religion dying in Varanasi is a sure way to reach heaven we went to the burning Ghat(temple) to have a look a the cremation of the dead which runs twenty four hours. Next to the ghat there are a collection of hospices and a tour of these left us paying for a few kilos of wood for a old lady awaiting her departiure to the next world. She seemed much further from deaths door after we parted with fifty ruppees ($1us) than while her ailments were being described to us.

From Varanasi we popped our bikes into their bags, with an audience ten deep, and got a train to Jabalpur in Madya Pradesh. From here we biked first to the Marble rocks, a marble gorge along a river not all that impresive but a relaxing place to stay none the less.Then from here biked down to Khana National Park.200 km of biking through forested hills on a peaceful if delapidated road was the first time in India we were able to get away from it all, although every time you pass a bicycle or motor bikes pass you you must chat to the rider for a least five minutes before they leave you to ride on in peace. We were lucky to arrive in Mandla, an ugly town halfway, in time for a travelling fair. The fairground complete with rusty rides that clank and creak as they pump them up to top speed. Spinning around on the big ferris wheel at high speed is perhaps more exciting because of the percived risk of death each time we went round the rusty bolt gave a lound clanging noise.   

Once down in the park we went biking around the surrounding forest along great single track routes passing by mud hut villages tending their elephants and trees full of monkeys. In the park itself they don’t permit cyclists only jeeps. We did a jeep safari which ferried us around the park until a tiger was spotted by a tracker then we tranfered onto a elephant to approach the sleeping mum and her two babies. It is a beautiful experience but not what I would call adventure. The park rangers go about the park alone on bikes so maybe a bicycle safari could be organised to give more active tourists a chance to see the park.

We biked back to Jabalpur then boarded a train for Bombay where we picked up a train to Goa. Goa is a lovely place to relax and the evenings we sometinmesbike the twenty km from Arambol beach a quiet unspoilt beach resort in the far north of the state into Anjuna where the infamous Goa trance parties take place three or four a night.

The millennium bash went on for three days unchecked the colorful parade of young want to be hippies jumped up and down to that loud fast and repetative beat. Give me a bit of house music any day! We joined in for a few hours waiting for the dawn. The sun shine revealed the palmfringed beach full of lovers looking out to sea while the party raged on behimnd us. I chose this moment to propose to my girlfriend Ping.

In Nepal we headed to Pokara where with the Anappurna range as a spectacular backdrop as we explored the countless jeep tracks and single track roads around the lake. Here we found some beginner dirt excitment without the fear. From here we biked to the famous Anapurna circuit which starts with fairly flat dirt tracks butbecomes progessively technical. While climbing at almost 45 degrees over rocky steps I hit a rock and began to pull up onto the back wheel. Turning the front wheel I managed to put it down on the ground over the edge of a precipice with a 100 foot drop down the gorge into the river below awaiting. Althoug slippimg twenty meters down the side through luck and desparation I managed to prevent falling furhter. after a few hours of Mountain bike Russian roulette we decided  it would be better (safer at least) to walk.

Leaving the bikes outside Tatopani in a hotel we walked for 10 days from Guesthouse to restaurant, onto cafes then teashops. Anapurna is where you can experience mountain treking in comfort. Everything that you could need is available, even in the smallest of villages, cakes and pizza are never more than an hours walk away. For a wonderfully relaxing place to stay I recommend Ghasa a few days out of Jomsom on the circuit. Waterfalls and mountain views with little kids no more than 12 years old bringing you the local crops for you to sample.

Leaving Sakya on the way back to the road we were six and the showdown with the hordes of kids began. This time we coordinated our efforts with two riding up behind to close the escape route for the kids as the ones in front turned to chase. Armed with our own rocks we showered them in the crossfire. The adults looking on in amazed amusement as we chased the boys and girls through the fields.

I feel sorry for the next group of cyclists to pass this village!

Deciding this should be on video we stopped a big group and handed them rocks and told them to throw them at us as  we rode by. Baffled they just stood there in silence as we rode by for the camera.

Our reward for the day was a visit to the hot springs a few km’s along the road. Full of Chinese in their underware and a few naked Tibetans Kath took the pressure off by going in topless thus we white scrawny felows could bath without interested eyes. A few beers and the hot water made for a pleasant afternooon. see video (mpg 202kb)

In Lhatse, our days end we bumped into Filipe who showed us the cheapest accommodation in town 10 yuan. This was the last stop before the big 5250 meter pass so we prepared with a few shots of brandy.

With Filipe joining us we set off. The pass itself was a long 30 km sharp uphill along the course of a mountain stream. We made it with a little help from some Tibetan sheep farmers who we stopped to take pictures of because of the funky fur hats they were wearing. Huge tall hats with colorful silk lining. They wanted to ride our bikes so we let them, but not used to the granny gear we were in they decided pushing was easier and pushed quicker than we could walk.

At the top we were confronted with a collection of tourists and their 4WD jeeps that are worse than the kids on the road throwing up dust into your face as they accelerate past you horns blaring leaving mm between you and them. The tourists appologised more thn the drvers would ever do. Once when Kath was hit head on by a speeding jeep the driver got out to tell her she was swerving., then leaving her sprawled in the snow drove of in a cloud of dust.

The view was great but with darkness close we began the freezing decent. Twenty km and no village still high on the side of a mountain we saw a road repair housing unit and approached them for accomadation. They refused but just around the corner we saw the new accomadation unit. Half built but one part had windows so we camped inside. Spotted by the workers they came for payment. 30yuan a night each!!! We’ll sleep outside !! After sharing a few biscuits they allowed us to sleep in the building site for free.

Downhill to Shegar with Everest in the background, but still two mountain passes of over 5200m to go in the 90km that separated us.

Everest basecamp trail is one of the all time best, hardest, coldest, most demanding, beautiful and rewarding mountain bike trails. The road goes up from 4000 to 5200 meters along the bumpest rockiest track where wheels slide and slip. Sometimes  just a path where the larger of the boulders have been cleared to the side even with no bags we had to get of and walk at times. But from the top ….. the top of the world. Everest and all the Himalayas greet you their white peaks dazzle. Down to the deep valley through little villages etching a living from farmland on the brown rocky seemingly infertile hills. Kids sprint from the fields to beg frrom you as you ride through. This land is grand canyon like in it’s bleak harsh beauty. The arrival at Tashi Zom the halfway village is like arrival in paradise …full menus and comfy beds in friendly family run hotels. (Sunshine being the best)

The trek from Tashi to Rong bu the monastry village at base camp is apainfully hard 50km climb. First through the grassy vally then up the gorge. 10km of snowbound hell! Everest looking down on you as you stuggle up through a muddy snowy path. With the sun going in behind the hills the temperature dropped like a stone. Soon the mud was frozen then the wheels on the bike froze dragging the bikes with feet numb we stopped a passing jeep to tell them if we don’t get in by 9 oclock come and get us. We locked the bikes and went on on foot. Then out of the darkness headlights of a truck with a tourist on the back.

"We came to save you"

"But its only 8 o clock and what about my pride" I thought.

We were 800 meters from Rongbuk and he had paid 500 yuan for the truck! we paid the money feeling greviously ripped off.

The morning showed us Everest up close but my mood was such that I just wanted to get down. Downhill on snow is a different thing altogether . Skidding downwards at highspeed falling into the snow made up for the bad luck the night before. What had taken 5 hours uphill took one down and we were soon back on the grasslands of the sunny valley. Stopping for lunch we saw a familiar siloette come out of the sunshine,

"Rich why are you walking?"

Bad luck for us all on this trek Rich’s bike frame had snapped. So he was travelling with a group of Germans who had a sag wagon to carry their kit.

Two days saw us back to Sagar and on the road to Tingri. Dan and Kath went for the snowbound pass that is a shortcut avoiding the back track. Tingri is a great little place fiull of guesthouses and good Tibetan food. A few km out there is a little hot springs at Tsamda where we stopped a night. The Tibetans we discovered treat it like a night club and men and women with their kids bathe together in the hot pool singing in chorus in fabulous harmony their Tibetan songs in the darkness.

From here to the border only one pass, we felt it was almost over but the pass was the hardest yet.
First a modrerate climb for 60km then from the little guesthoues at the foot a climb. 20km up the icy cold mountain with snow on either side and the snot on the end of your nose freezing into iceciles that drop onto the floor. Even the drinking water freezes. At the top its not over still a second pass to go. Down for 8km then up for 8km Now exhausted in the snow impossible to ride in the mud Even the white peaks all around don’t make you feel good. Screaming obsenities did help though but the chinese in the trucks that passed by looked at me funny.

The last pass phew then down to Nepal….NO!
Down for twenty km flat for 10km up for 5 km down up etc all in snow Rongbuk revisted as the darkness came a roadworkers housing unit the only refuge.

"Please let us stay!!"
"Yes , come in"

A family living in one room invited us into their warm place . We sat by the fire ooked our noodles and handed outall the spare food we had left. They let us sleep in their beds and dissappeared to another place at night. The cost for their saving us 10yuan each.

5;45 we stopped to take some pictures then to the border post for entry to the promised land.

"It’s too late the border closes at six" the unsmiling  Chinese border guard told us.

"No it’s not showing his watch filipe showed it was 5:55" the Chinese border guard showed us his watch 5:57

"The border is closed" Then up he got and left us tostew.

We found a cheap guesthouse with a view and relaxed. A young man who had been helping us with the bikes and luggage came to sit with us in our room. Soon he told us his story. He was off tonight to Nepal. He had paid 1300yuan for passage along the river that cascades down to the border. Then the 137 km on foot to Katmandu. :Lifting his baseball hat to reveal his shaved head he told us he was a monk from Qinghai he was attempting to escape to India and would have to negotiate Nepali checkpoints on the way as well as the Chinese border. His main reasons for going.. See the Dalai Lama and to learn English.

Next day our easy passage through the border. No problem and we were decending into Nepal. The border is like like a huge chasm the change so great. Nepali people so different in their mannerisms and way of life and so many people! No longer one small village in 20 km but 10 big ones with farmhouses all the way.

Gyantse is one of the highlights of Tibet , mainly because the Wu Tse hotel has tv, hot showers,comfortable beds and serves Pizza in the restaurant which has a large vcd player and an indian dance music cd.
Oh and the town also has a large fort (the little potala) which was the site of the anti british war, and a huge monastry which has a big Pagoda.

Walking up to the little Potala through the Tibetan part of town you can see the town is split into two very distinct parts. The Tibetan old side colorfully decorated buildings and the drab concrete of Chinese modernity. Walking around the fort is a fun experience in Chinese propoganda. With wax worlkdummys depicting scenes from Tibetan history like the torture chamber the dungions and the tax hall. The fort survived the Chinese occupation because of the vallient defence of the ‘Motherland’ from the evil British imperialists. It is here that 600 Tibetans died in 10 minutes to four British casualties in1904. The Tibetans reduced to throwing rocks at the machine guns and light artillery of the British. Of course the palace has not been repaired since then and for the hardy who want to explore the whole place one must still scale the breached walls as they have not put in any stairs yet.

From Gyantse the next city is Shigatse 100 km along a rough rocky road that is a least flat. The main adventure on this bit of the trip is fighting the kids. This is tourist teritory and the kids are ready for cyclists. Greeted every 100meters by a new bunch, they chase the bikes first beggng for money, then as you pass they attempt to take things from the back of your bike then try to pull you back. If this fails their last weapon is the rock which they hurl after you sometimes using a sling. We confronted them everytime once catching one 7 year old who was too slow to get off the road. He at first claimed innocence but with us two foreigners towering over him shouting he soon changed tactics and started to bawl loudly. Feeling success at making a 7 year old cry we left him and happily rode on.

Shigatse is a big place also has a big monastry and a fort but it cost 30Yuan (4dollars)  to get in so we didn’t bother. What we did do was get Permits. First to the CITS govt. travel service to pay 50 yuan for.Umm for…well anyway you need to pay them then onto the police office. At the entrance the first thing you see is three bikes a cannondale amongst them chained together. Why would a Tibetan policeman ride a cannondale? Because three Japanese boys overstayed for7 days.

It costs 50 yuan for a permit but 150 yuan for a cycle permit. We thought a permit would be good enough so in we went. "Your cylists aren’t you?" was the first thing the policeman at the desk asked us.

"NO" I retort

"I saw you today on bikes" He counters.

"We will put them on a bus as it ’s too hard to cycle"

So he made up the permit and added  ‘Not permitted to ride a bike!’  (None of the other permits have this)

"Ok maybe we will cycle a little of the way here’s your 150Yuan”

Asking about the bikes and if we could buy some of the parts he told us of two Australians who were there theday before and stole the wheels. Good on ya boys!

We had met Dan in Lhasa whose rim had buckled. From Shigatse we did take a bus as it was my birthday and didn’t want to celebrate in a cold tent.The bus ride with pissed driver and very pissed merry conductor passing around the fruit wine wsentertaining with the Tibetans raising their hats and whooping as the bus crossed a pass. The conductor singing along with the heavily distorting cassete pumped up to full volume. We disembarked on the turnoff to Sakya the ancient capital of Tibet and sight of a huge monastry. Riding the guantlet of stone throwing kids and headwind we made the 25km without problem. Later that day inrocked The Australians Dan, Rich and Kath(American). Over a few beers they told the story of the shigatse incident.

Kath extending her visa, absolutly impossible in Tibet, Unless of course you are a blonde American girl with a beautiful smile, (Chinese police are suckers for blondes). The boys were busy downstairs swapping wheels from their broken bike with the Cannondale. Chinese police don’t know one from another but they can count so when one walked in a saw two extra wheels he knew something was up. On closer inpection they discovered the dastardly deception and were ready to expell these wretched Australians but as I’ve already said Chinese police are suckers for blondes and they got away with returning the wheels.

As it was only Dave and Gavin with Visa problems Roland and I decided to take the longer southern route to Lhasa so the group split with Britta going the easier way. We crossed Ba yi town and a long bridge without incident and thought how great we were, the last hurdle overcome. In the morning we head along the worst road in history 53 km up a slight hill and then at the peak too late to stop a checkpoint! No way around as it was at a bridge with a large barracks by the side of the road we tried ignoring the shouts of stop but with crowds of police all around we eventually got off the bikes and went into the office. At first the "I don’t speak Chinese" option seemed to work but an English speaker arrived and in broken English said

"no permit no go on"

Reverting to Chinese I explained we were just common workers in the west and could not afford the astronomical cost of a tour to get a permit, he should be a good man and just let us proceed. To this he called the commander of the post, despite half an hour of arguments he just answered

"go back to Ba Yi get a permit"

towards the end he began to get irritated by my continued presence and asked how come we were here on a closed road anyway.

"You’re right we should go back to Ba yi and get apermit, Bye bye!" 

So we went back along the windy sandy rocky road towards Ba yi with no intention of getting a permit. A friendly tibetan trucker gave us a lift a bit of the way to relieve the pain of backtracking. Once more through Ba Yi we sped this time with the cover of a rainstorm. Once on the other side we had the advantage of tarmac and made good time to Gongpujiangda 120km in a day. Camping outside town another river wash then onwards on a deteriorating road which at times was almost uncyclable to a small town Jin Da more of a truckstop with a few restaurants and guesthouses and a couple of Tibetan teahouses than a town. Here safe we found a room. Across the road while drinking beer on the balcony we noticed a western face, the others too had found refuge here in a traditional teahouse.

Eating our weight in yak meat and tsampa (barley porridge) with a lake of buttertea the bill came to less than a usual nights sleep. From here the road was again tarmac boring flat and long 130km into Lhasa along the high plateau bear off trees.

A stop at some traditional Tibetan tents of yakherders provided the highlight. Brown thick material provide the outer layer. Inside beds go around the outside with a pot of bubbling butter tea in the middle. We were lucky to witness them doing mantras with drums and bells.

In Zuogong Britta had found a nice guesthouse and although there was a lot of army no obvious police presence. She had got a Yak skin sown into the shape of a sleeping bag and after a days rest we were once more all together and on our way. Daves visa was only for a month and looking at the distance we had covered in the last week it didn’t take a genius to see we were not going to make it soouside Zuogong We hailed down a passing empty truck and rode it a couple of hundred km’s to Bashou. This was a bumpy ride to say the least.

To begin with the truck sped along the bumpy road and we played at urbansurfing on the back , but after hours of being tossed around on some of the worlds worst roads bruised bottoms and exhausted bodies made for miserable moods and we were relieved to get out. In Ba shou the police stopped us and looked at our passports but not speaking or reading English just waved us on.

This area returns to alpine type scenery with pine forests providing a green blanket with an occasional pocket of dicidious trees adding a blaze of color to the mountain sides, in this early Autumn time. We made our way slowly along the river side rounding corner after corner each revealing yet another stunning view. The only problem was again the road which was sandy with rocks hidden under the surface to give punctures and broken spokes.

We took two days to Bomi, the next big town, but were split up when we turned off the road to a village up above for a food break, leaving a message for Dave written in the sand who had been delayed by a puncture. He missed the message and rushed on trying to catch us but it was he who was caught by a waiting motorcycle cop. On seeing the cop Dave tells of his initial swerving and attempt to escape but was caught up and forced off the road. Not speaking Chinese and the police not speaking English he ignored the demands for money and commented the police seemed to think a bank receipt might be the permit. Giving up they let him go and told him not to take pictures.

Meanwhile we were enjoying a smooth road at last. Passing some pilgrims we were astonished to see them stopping every 3 paces to first kneel then lie on their stomachs in prayer, continuosly muttering their mantras. Asking the monk pulling a cart loaded with their stuff what was up he revealed they were on a pilgrimage from Chundu to Lhasa. They travelled 8km a day and had taken 8 months to get there and would take over a year to complete the journey. Wow!

Hooking up with Dave outside Bomi we made camp outside of town. The others unwilling to venture into town I went in alone to get the beers and Chinese takeaway for the night. From Bomi the road continued to head down and so the scenery had changed from alpine to tropical, and the weather from sunny to wet. The road from sand to mud. The biking from hard to impossible. Fording many streams, covered in mud and sweat in a light drizzle this is mountain biking at its best. Fortunately we were going downhill but after a night camping in torrential rain even that was to change. We found a small village squeezed into the high sides of the river gorge a were releived to find a small hostel and restaurant in town . We got out the cards broke open the beers and brandy and had a day of rest.

Resting for at a convenient rock by the side of the road until dawn we set of up the hill. We went for a few hours but there was no sign of a shop or a restaurant and hunger had begun to bite. Our path was blocked by a landslide, and the truck drivers were working by hand to clear the road shifting rocks down the hillside. Lending a hand suddenly there was shouting and people pointing up above and a few rocks whizzed past my ear before I too ran panicking for cover from the impending rockslide. After a few minutes with no-one hurt everybody was laughing about the incident and we timidly returned to the scene and were able to pass by on a thin path they had cleared.

Seeing a boy herding some Yak along the road I asked him where the nearest place to eat was and he invited us to his house for lunch. We walked along to a lovely village clinging to the mountainside, and into a large square Tibetan house. On the ground floor his mother dressed in traditional Tibetan dress welcomed us into the muddy yard and held back the vicious dog that looked as though he wanted blood from finding his meal from our legs. On the ground floor of the house were all the animals, calves and pigs rolling around in the thick mud and hay. Upstairs though are the living quarters and we were invited into the large livingroom with pictures of Lamas on the wall and a large stereo and TV in the corner on a brightly painted cupboard. The ceiling and the wood around the windows were all painted the same bright greens and reds infancy patterns. After a long wait where we were constantly served butter tea we eventually were presented with our lunch of rice and vegetables. Of course the asking price for this service was higher than normal but in the circumstances we were happy to pay.

Lijiang the last major tourist town to dechin and the Tibetan border takes us through some great mountain scenery glaciers etc. and past some police checkpoints!

Leaving Lijiang first a climb out of town for a few km., being the lazy bastards that we are we took the help of a passing tractor unit that climbs at a similar speed and hung on to the back. Down the otherside in sight if a snow mountain we followed a lakeshore then climbed (unaided) throuh sunflowers a pines before a 25km decent on good roads down to the yangzigorge below. Reaching speeds of 75km through pineforests with snowy peaks all around and the brown yangzi roaring below it rates as a pretty cool drop. Being a tourist centre there is a great restaurant at the bottom too!

Down along the yangzi river valley to Tiger leaping gorge where the valley narrows. Along this road side I noticed a familiar looking plant, jumping down to investigate I landed in a huge pile of cows shit. You have to take shit to get good shit these days! A night At the gorge then a climb for 30 km along a small river took us to our first night camping, the next day to Zhongdian climbing up a series of small ridges to long plateaus with Tibetan houses, monks, people and their Yaks.

Zhongdian is a lively little place although it’s not much to look at, chinese concrete blocks. From here to Deching the road surface deteriorates to  a smooth stoney track. First a climb then a decent ,then a climb then a long decent back down to the river gorge. The sides too steep for trees only pockets of green like oasis mark the towns, and that plant clinging to the sides of the valley makes for a nice smell. A stop in a village to take pictures of a garden full of marajuana with huge buds, an old lady sitting on her doorstep looked at me bemused. As an excuse I told her your house is beautiful I want to take a picture. She retorted "What is up with you?" I laughed to Britta about how old people don’t really live in our world, she pointed out that the old ladies house had virtually been destroyed by a landslide and it was me that was in another world!

From Benzilan where we spent the night starts the first of the long climbs over 50km up to a 4500m pass. Two days were hard uphill with the highlight of a stop at a monastry. Tibetan monestries are really way out there man. Monks crowded in the main hall chanting mantras wearing burgundy robes and yellow moheakan hats with drums and horns adding to the audio and the stench of yak cheesegiving your nostrils a blast!

Arriving in Deching we found a hotel a rested. Out a night we heard the more familiar beats of a drum machine and naff dance music coming from one of the buildings across the road. Going to investigate we found the local disco. Getting up to dance we attracted a circle around us and it was lucky we were so drunk so we could perform for the crowd. It was hard to buy a drink as the local Tibetans were always first with their wallets. At the end of the night the slow dances came on and I asked a girl to dance she held me at arms length during the dance and after the song was over made for the door at speed!