Packing up and heading home
Normally I like to spend a few days after a long cycle trying to absorb the experience and generally ease out of the touring mindset. On this occasion, almost immediately after unpacking my things and settling back into my hotel room, I start to feel restless. I take a long walk through town but it’s just not the same, the hooting, the incessant sales pitches, constant jostling of the crowds and threat of been knocked down in the traffic.
The façade of this trekking tourism area crumbles down around me and for the first time I see that its all an illusion, the traditional buildings, local dress, friendly conversations, colorful merchandise, fake, fake, fake. I know its an overreaction, a symptom of been exposed to the real Nepal for too long, but I can’t stay.
I go online and change all my flight bookings so that I can leave the following day. Later that evening I dismantle my bike but can’t remove one of the pedals, so it’s a really tight fit in the already slightly too small bike bag. The next day, we take off in the late afternoon and fly all along the Himalayan mountain range. I am on the wrong side of the plane, craning my neck to get a glimpse of the mountains when a couple on the correct side see me and offer to change seats for a while. I refuse politely for the required period then accept, jamming my camera up against the window.
There before me, rising above the clouds like a giant crocodile’s tail are the Nepalese Himalayan mountain chain, glistening white and spectacular in the diffused light of a late afternoon. After a brief spell, I go back to my seat and promise to send them a set of photos taken from the plane.
The sun sets, and dinner trolleys are rolling down each of the two isle.
In the final analysis
So now, after some time has gone by, I need to find the answer to two very important questions;
Did I chicken out over the pass?
Does it matter?
To take the first question first.
By the time I got up in the morning before the final push towards the pass, my headache had gone, so probably I would have been ok to have carried on. The weather was clear and expected to be good for the next few days, so chances were that although it would still have been extremely cold, it was unlikely to have turned critically bad. There were many groups of trekkers, guides and porters on the trail by this stage, so I wouldn’t have been completely alone over the pass if I did get into difficulty.
The shortness of breath during that night was definitely a problem related to gaining altitude too fast, but I could have gone back down to Manang and spent another day or two acclimatizing. So taking all that into account, I think I probably could have carried on and safely negotiated the pass, it could have been really cool. So, did I chicken out over the pass?
“Hell yes!”
On the second question;
Although I had heard about the pass before, it had never been a goal of mine to try to cross it on this trip. My intention was to get up close to the mountains just to see for myself what they would look like It was only after I spoke to people in Nepal that I considered it as a possibility and even on the trail when people would ask if I was going to do the pass, my answer was always along the lines of, “I’m just going to keep cycling until I stop, and if that’s the other side of the pass then fine, if not, then also fine” While the landscape and scenery on the Annapurna circuit was breathtaking and the riding just amazing, from a cultural aspect it was all but destroyed. Most of the villages have converted over to tourist towns, menus have been standardized at ALL the tea rooms and there is really very little left that could be called authentic. There are tourist check points, medical aid posts, purified water outlets, shops, movie houses and literally 1,000’s of trekkers, guides, porters, pack mules and now Boleros in an endless procession along the trail.
It was only while travelling in the areas outside of the trail, which was the larger part of the trip, that I was able to experience Nepal for what it really is, and appreciate the subtle changes in its culture and people as I moved between the highlands, midlands and low lying regions. There were no tourists on my route, no standardized accommodation or menu’s written in English, no route markers or check points. That’s what I really wanted to experience, that’s what Dylan and I had experienced during our Bhutan to Kathmandu cycle in 2015. So did it really matter that I didn’t go over the pass?
“Hell no!”
Bike, luggage and equipment
Bike.
GIANT XTC 3 SLX 27’5-inch hard tail mountain bike (2015) with MAXXIS CROSSMARK tires.
After a comprehensive service at Himalayan single track in Kathmandu, I suffered no mechanical or any other problems on the ride, only replacing the rear disc pads in Pokhara as a precaution. I had a single puncture, and the tires held air for the entire trip without even the need for topping up, which seemed a little silly really.
Luggage
30lt Deuter Trans alpine 30lt backpack.
Thule pack and pedal rear rack.
10lt dry bag.
As is my custom for this level of bike touring, I stuck with a 30lt backpack, but because the possibility of extreme cold existed, added the rear carrier to accommodate a dry bag full of bulkier clothing.
The quality of the Deuter pack is excellent and it was well balanced and comfortable on my back. There was plenty of versatility in terms of compartments to organize all my kit. I packed everything in separate dry bags or zip lock bags for added protection, but mainly because it makes organizing kit so much easier.
I had heard mixed reports about the Thule rack, mainly that the bolts worked loose and need tightening a few times a day. This was not my experience, although I checked each morning, everything remained secure.
I also had a small bar bag for my cellphone and daily cash, but a tear in the side pouch caused me to loose a camera battery and my lovely penknife given to me by my son Dylan after our Bhutan cycle in 2015. I replaced this in Kathmandu before returning home.
Camera equipment:
Olympus - OM-D M-E1 Micro 4/3 digital camera
GOPRO Session
M-ZUIKO lens - Standard zoom 12-40mm f2.8 (24-80mm f5,6 FF equivalent)
M-ZUIKO lens - 17mm f1.8 (34mm f3.6 FF equivalent)
M-ZUIKO lens - 25 mm f1.8 (50mm f3,6 FF equivalent)
M-ZUIKO lens - 75 mm f1.8 (150mm f3,6 FF equivalent)
SLIK Mini pro - table top tri pod
I struggled terribly with taking a decision as to which camera set up to bring on the trip and on the morning I flew out from Lao, I still had both my Canon 5D and the Olympus micro 4/3 sets lined up next to each other. My final decision to go with the Olympus was based on the rationale that due to weight considerations, I would not be able to take the range of lenses needed to justify taking a full frame camera in the first place. With the Olympus, I was able to take 3 prime lenses and a good quality zoom at half the weight and bulk of the Canon with only one decent prime lens.
In retrospect, I never really missed having a full frame camera with me and I honestly cannot complain about the quality of the images I brought back. It was the right decision.
The other stuff
For me personally, there is something special about travelling on a bike that’s free of luggage. Somehow the set up maintains within my psyche a “Hey, I think I’ll just go for a quick ride on my bike” frame of mind. for me, I have this style of touring down to an art form, with plenty of luxury items included in the mix, loads of camera equipment and separate clothing for the evenings. In fact, looking at the list of items I took with, its difficult to imagine how I fitted it all in, but it was completely manageable, even comfortable. There was nothing I didn’t use, other than the “insurance items” such as spares, first aid and contingency stuff.
In particular, the electronics section appears to be over the top, but every item was used on a daily basis and made it possible for me to keep in contact with my family and friends, check my routes and even enjoy nightly entertainment in the worst of conditions. (Black Adder and Flight of the Conchords)
