PT 3 - To Pokhara
LEDAR TO CHAME - 69 KM - 868 M CLIMBING - 4,230 MASL MAX ELEVATION
03:34..03:57. Gasp for breath, turn on the head torch, deliberate breathing. 4:30, get up. What to do, thoughts and doubts, I don’t think I can take another night like this, the guide said yesterday that it gets much colder at the top, everyone is asking where my cold weather gear is and I’m getting tired of saying ‘this is it”. I know I’ve ascended too fast, but its only one more sleep, only another 1000 m of elevation.
I walk around taking photos, all the trekkers are leaving, their porters laboring under the loads of eiderdown sleeping bags, jackets snow boots mittens. Soon its only me left. I make the call, I’m not adequately equipped, I’ve ascended too fast, I need to go down. My eyes are blurred with tears as I prepare to move off, and I can’t help thinking back to how I felt as a very small boy when I was not allowed to stay up and watch a movie with my older sisters. I feel alone. I know that if Dylan was with me we would talk it though and probably we would have carried on, I don’t know, maybe that would have been a bad decision. I turn the bike onto the trail and with a heavy heart, head back to Manang.
Now that I’ve made the call and am back on the bike, I feel a lot better, the ride back is even more exciting that the day before and I have to talk myself into taking it easy, its still extremely dangerous. Its also something of a “ride of shame” as I pass a continual stream of trekkers, all heading up. I hardly stop at Manang, just long enough to collect water and lunch before continuing on my way down. Looking back, there is so much I could have done differently, stayed to acclimatize longer, hiked up to the high pass, hiked around the mountains and glacial lakes for a few days, but a tremendous sense of failure drives me down. I descend until the rain starts falling, then carefully select a tea room from the dozen or so packed closely together. It’s the best accommodation of the entire trail so far.
CHAME TO SYANJE - 44 KM, 569 M CLIMBING - 2,700 MASL MAX ELEVATION
I imagine I will descend quickly, maybe in two days, but its taking me the same amount of time due to the technical nature of the trails. I don’t mind at all, the riding and the scenery are just spectacular. Waterfalls and raging rivers, roads that wind high up among the clouds and then drop away towards nothingness, their destination hidden in the morning mist.
I must have been at the front end of the trekking season when I came up, because now the trail is crowded with trekkers and groups of bikers, all either fully loaded with paniers or as part of a supported tour. Two French cyclists call out to me, “Hey did you just come over the pass from the other side?”
“Yes!” I hear myself responding, immediately regretting it, what on earth am I thinking!
“What was the condition of the pass?”
“Pretty average for this time of year” I call out, inwardly cringing as I speed away around the shelter of a welcoming bend.
Time and again, I have to recount my story as to why I am coming down, I tell the true story this time, which is difficult, because I hardly have it straight in my own head. Did I simply chicken out or was I been wise? I still don’t know really, maybe I’ll never know until I go back and try again. Either way, I finally settle on a blend of wisdom and personal uncertainty and have less of a struggle from then on.
I catch up with some filming and photos I didn’t get on the route up, its hot under the sun and freezing in the shadows. I make it to slightly beyond my planned destination and check into a sweet little guest house for the night, my last night on the trail. Its only that evening while having dinner that I realize I am at the same tea room where I had stopped on my way up and discovered that due to a tear in my bar bag, I had lost one of my camera batteries, the pen knife Dylan had given me after our Bhutan trip as well as the two small stones given to me at the start of the trail. The only item wasted, is the camera battery, as the stones returned home and I am pretty sure the knife is at this very moment been put to useful service by a porter or guide along the trail.
SYANJE TO DOME - 70 KM - 974 M CLIMBING - 1,243 MASL MAX ELEVATION
Another really tough day, and even though I descend from 1,240 – 428 MASL, I climb close to 1,000 m. The final section of the trail is full of running water and very broken up making for some tough going in the morning. I ride straight through the busy trekking base town of Besisahar and head for the main road junction at Dome. The heat is intense and the road offers only relentless climb after climb, yo-yoing between the river and the sky. I overdo it and end up with some worrying chest pains during the last few km’s of the ride.
Groups of local woman and children heavily made-up and looking absolutely resplendent in their bright colorful Saris stand in groups at every village and road junction, lighting up the landscape. On the road, buses, mini vans and Bolero’s filled to overflowing, hooting incessantly. I am now at a central time of the Hindu festival, Dashein, which runs from 1st to 18th of October, a time when all the local people return to the villages of their birth.
Finally arriving at Dome, I try to find accommodation and am directed to the Everest hotel. I ask to see the room, its bad, exceeding the acceptable low standards of other facilities ten fold, so I say no thanks and head back to the guest house I stayed at when passing through on my way in. It feels a lot like coming home, and I have a very pleasant evening with my hosts. My clothes are a mess, nothing remotely clean anymore, so I buy some soap and wash one full set of cycling gear knowing it will probably never dry by morning. I reflect on the journey I have had since leaving this same room 9 days ago, the things I have seen, the road I have travelled, the people I have met. Tomorrow I head for Pokhara and a few days’ rest.
DOME TO POKHARA - 70 KM DISTANCE - 704 M CLIMBING - 846 MASL MAX ELEVATION
Long distance cycling is about managing expectations, and most of my expectations over the past few days have been out of sync with reality. My expectation of the ride today is; very hot, very busy, lots of climbing, and this time I am spot on. Hard climbing in sticky humidity, insane, completely insane traffic but I am ready for it, so the km’s slide by in mental and emotional effortlessness. The approach to Pokhara is the normal craziness and all to soon I am booked into a comfortable hotel in the very heart of the tourism area near to the lake.
I can hardly contain my excitement, walking around the room with a huge grin, testing out the air con that works, the wi-fi that actually connects to the internet, the toilet that flushes and the hot water that eventually does flow from the tap with the red button on top. This is just all too much. Immediately on arrival, I pile 22 items of clothing into a laundry bag and haul it off to the hotel reception. I can’t stomach wearing my shoes another hour, so I race down the road and buy a pair of bright lime green flip flops, picking up two large cans of beer on the way home. I have not felt so relaxed in months.
I catch up with my video diary and realize that I still haven’t come to terms with not going over the pass. I need to find a different perspective or I am never going to break out of my negative thought patterns around this. It starts raining just as I set out optimistically for the sign I had seen earlier; “Pizza and Jazz”. No Jazz, but the Pizza and Long Island Ice Tea are amazing.
POKHARA
I’m out on the streets slightly ahead of the sun to take some photos and see what Pokhara is actually all about. There is a large lake surrounded on the south side by a small range of hills. Breakfast is full American with two large cappuccinos. Damn, it’s good. Most of the morning is spent taking care of business, the primary item on the agenda, find a bike shop. it doesn’t need much work, just a proper clean, degrease, and new rear brake pads.
A second item on the agenda is to find a clinic to remove some irritant from my eye which is driving me up the bedroom wall. After finding one and taking a brief look inside, I decide to stick with the wall climbing.
A third task is to buy a memory sick to back up all my photos and video which I do, paying with 5 X 1,000 Rupee notes. The shopkeeper carefully counts the notes and I go on my way. An hour later I step into a currency exchange shop, but I can’t find my $100 note. Its possible I left it in the hotel, although I was sure I had brought it with me. Thinking about it, the 1,000 Rupee and the $100 note are quite similar and realize then that I must have mistaken it for a 1,000 Rupee when buying the memory stick. Fortunately, the shopkeeper is only semi dishonest, and reluctantly hands me back the $100 which I see he has hidden under the cash register draw.
Later in the afternoon I discover the Pokhara waterfront, a small path leading all along the lake lined with local attractions on the one side, and small outdoor bars and restaurants for the tourists on the other. There is a local market and a small fun fair, groups of locals play gambling games. High above me twirling round each other in the late afternoon haze are dozens and dozens of hang-glides. I sit at a small table along the lake drinking Mojito’s and watching the Nepalese world go by. Dinner is amazing, as is my neatly folded pile of clean laundry waiting for me in my room when I get back.
Even after two days, I still don’t really get Pokhara, its not the crazy madness I have come to expect from all the Nepal towns I have visited, nor is it the jumble of tourism and local business that you see in KMD. It’s not rock and its not folk, maybe more like white reggae. Regardless, I have a wonderful rest during the two days and am more than ready to take on the second part of this journey which will include the central and lowland regions, before climbing once again to reach the Kathmandu valley.
