The end of the trip

Ali to Darchen: Back into the wild

A 100km stretch from Ali to Darchen was paved. It was very nice cycling on smooth roads for a change. The remaining portion was in the process of being paved. This section was easy as compared to the previous 4 weeks.

Ferran teaches us how to be bums. We try to sleep under the road in water conducting channels as much as possible. This saves us the trouble of pitching tents so we can have more time for our chai party. Camping is one of the best parts of this trip.

Wide open scenery typifies this region.

Mt. Kailash

Ferran negotiating a difficult river crossing with Mt. Gurla Mandhata in the background.

Mt Kailash Kora: My bad attitude

Darchen is a boom town. Construction all over the place. Tons of tourists arriving by Land Cruiser everyday. Why? Because it's the holiest site for Hindus, Tibetan Buddhists, and Bons (ancient Tibetan religion). A walk around the mountain, known as a "kora", erases the sins of a lifetime. Something like 108 koras takes you instantly to nirvana....blah, blah, blah

Now this is what I don't understand: why is it that once Western tourists (like ourselves) enter Tibet, they instantly believe the mumbo jumbo and do the kora like the pilgrims as if it meant anything to them? I mean it's hard work doing the kora so why put yourself through it? What a bunch of posers!

So I did the kora along with my cycling mates, mainly to keep the team together. Throughout the 2 days of the kora, I kept trying to find the meaning in what I was doing. I couldn't find it, and I was very glad to be back on the bike. Maybe I just don't like walking.

Hardcore pilgrims prostrating themselves around the mountain. It's 52km around the mountain.

The North face of Mt. Kailash.

Darchen to Saga: Winds, sand and pushing....

In Darchen we met a pretty Korean backpacker girl who was very interested in cycletouring. We were starting the Kora and she had just finished. She said she was headed to the hot springs that was were within a day's ride from Darchen. We have stared at each other for over a month, so visions of soaking in a tub with an attractive girl quickly takes over our thoughts. After the kora we cycle like mad to the hot spring.

We get there and the hot springs have been converted to a private bath house, not the communal tub we were hoping for. No Korean girl either. Ferran is very heartbroken. He even brought candles from Darchen for the the possibility of entertaining his guest in his tent.

No, Martin is not heartbroken, at least not in this picture. He is simply damn tired. It was a really bad road leading to our camp near a lake. We had exhausted our water supply to get there, but when we finally get there the lake turns out to be contaminated with chemicals. There was a ring of salt around the lake and the water tasted bitter. Sato and I cycle back to some huts only to find them abandoned and their wells dry. We have to beg for water from the passing trucks and land cruisers.

As we leave May behind, we approach monsoon season and the skies get progressively cloudier.

But cloudy skies make for exceptional sunsets.

I lost my hat before the Aksai Chin. My face is getting fried and I start to develop panda eyes. (Martin's picture)

Saga to Lhasa: Bittersweet nostalgia.

Cycle this road long enough and everything falls apart. Here, we have Sato replacing his front tire and me in the back, trying to straighten a bulge in my front rim. My camera broke so all of the following pictures were taken by Martin.

In front of Tashilunpho monastery in Shigatse. Only 2 more cycling days, 1 more opportunity for camping, before Lhasa.

Done.

The last part of this trip was not what I expected. In February, when I started this trip, I envisioned rolling into Lhasa overjoyed by a sense of accomplishment and relief. But as we approached Lhasa, I began to feel a little sad. This was by far the best trip I've ever taken and it's not because of the scenery, nor the road's reputation as "the hardest road in the world" (whatever that means). It was great because I got the chance to cycle with three other like minded people, and by facing challenges together and supporting each other we became good friends. Lhasa took on a different meaning. It became the place where we would split up. Martin is going to Eastern Tibet and maybe eventually Kabul to start a climbing gym there. Ferran is going to Kathmandu so he can finally return home, where he's become quite a celebrity. Sato is going to Yunnan so that he might finally return to Japan and live a "normal" life after 5 years on the road. As for myself, I know that I will never have an opportunity again to take 5 months away from my future profession.

But hopefully, I will never forget the meaning of:

backpacker girls, Korean girl, pajama girl, chicken paper, rivercrossings, 7% sausages, Goa, army biscuits, chai party, three dishes and a soup, shitting points, crazy Tadeshi, night punctures, and prostitute chocolate

Yecheng to Ali

Yecheng to Mazar: Onto the Tibetan Plateau

Rod decides to head back to Kashgar after the pavement ends. Ferran and I continue into the Kun Lun mountains.

The first pass at 3300m (10,826 ft) was pretty easy.

The second pass at 4900m (16,076 ft) was no joke. We decide to take it easy the day before and camp at 3800m.

The climb begins.

For me, this was physically the hardest part of the trip because I wasn't yet acclimated. I couldn't breath fast enough and I could barely keep myself from passing out. Photo courtesy of Ferran Vila Bonell

The relief at the end of the day was the truck stop town of Mazar. You can pretty much tell what kind of place it is by just looking at it. From here to Lhasa, pathetic places like this become paradises. Martin, a Dutch cyclist joins the team here.

Our first glimpse of the Tibetan plateau.

Mazar to Sumzhi: Across the Aksai Chin and into Tibet

Everyday my diary entries can be summed up as: bad roads, beautiful scenery. Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.
The third pass at 4800m was also hard for me. Once again, I felt like I was going to pass out. I was considerably slower than Martin and Ferran and I didn't like the idea that I was slowing them down. I contemplated cycling solo, but the guys convinced me to stay with the team. It was a decision that certainly benefitted me later on. Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet because I was too busy breathing to be bothered with pictures.

We reach the town of Suget three days after leaving Mazar. Well stocked stores, good food, clean sheets, and a disco. Ferran has a "backpacker" moment interacting with the "locals."

Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet

Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet

Martin

In Dahongliutan, we stock up on food. The Aksai Chin is 300km of high altitude plateau where few provisions are available. Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

Khitai La 5100m (16,732ft) and the entrance to the Aksai Chin. I am now acclimated to the altitude and I feel strong.

The Aksai Chin is cold and beautiful when the weather is good. It's also where we encountered the best roads.

At Tielongtan (5100m), we get a persistent snow storm and we take our first day off. The weather doesn't really improve and we decide to keep on cycling. "Bad" weather is just normal for this altitude. We slip and slide up to a 5250m (17,224ft) pass.

Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

On the descent, our gears and brakes freeze. We try urinating on our bikes, but it doesn't work. A fierce blizzard descends on us and we decide to take a 32km lift to Sumzhi.

There was nowhere to stay at Sumzhi so we pitched our tents. The weather here was just as uncyclable so we took a 100km lift to Domar. Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

Sumzhi to Ali: Escape from the cold

In Domar, we meet Sato, a Japanese cyclist who is at the tail end of a 5 year round-the-world trip. We now have a team of four.

When we get to Ali, all of us are shocked. Electricity, running water, multi-story buildings, internet, and taxis! Photo courtesy of Martin Kwaasteniet.

A new record for me: 22 days without a shower.