Steve, the group tour leader, suggested that each day a different tour member should write a personalized  description of how they saw the day in a group journal. This would be read by the author at breakfast the next morning. The journal  would then be passed on to a different person.

Day One. Friday, 16 September (Steve)

Well, it really wasn’t day one, rather day one started as more of a blend of days. Packing up, getting to the airport, waiting in line to get on the plane, watching movies, waiting in line to get off the plane, was how the day started. Hoping for your baggage to be there, and then when it’s not, hoping for it to show up soon.

Kathmandu whirlwind tour. Four places of such amazement you could spend many days visiting, perhaps a lifetime. Then to the streets, drugs, food and bandannas.

The day one (Kathmandu to Lhasa) I am supposed to write about started at 05:45 with a wake up call, and a nice breakfast. The airport was nice, I know, I was there for a while. I met many other people who like I was wondering when the plane would land, and why there was no toilet located in the boarding lounge. Some of our group are ambitious travellers and one felt just wetting himself on the plane would be fine. It will be good to take Peter out of this civilization so he need not feel he needs a toilet, he can then let it go whenever.

The amusing part of Peter’s "wetting" story I find is his comfort in telling the group. I wonder if this will make it difficult for him to find a tent mate, if it were me I think I would be subtle, but then the best part of travelling is getting to know one another’s idiosyncrasies.

The true story of Peter. Peter, carrying a water bottle on his waist belt was seated beside Nipper on the China South West Airlines flight from Kathmandu to Lhasa. Shortly before arrival in Lhasa, Nipper had commented on the strong smell of urine on board. Peter agreed and added that he had also noticed it, and with that decided to adjust his waist belt. He then noticed that his shorts had a wet crotch, which had resulted from the internal pressure of the water bottle (not his bladder) being greater than cabin pressure. This then resulted in an overflow of water (not urine).

Day Two. Saturday, 17 September, (Peter)

It began in Lhasa with a hearty breakfast in the hotel Kechu and with keen anticipation of opening our bicycle boxes and the assembling of our "sturdy steeds".

Fortunately, all our bikes had travelled well, and what an audience we drew as we assembled our bikes on the sidewalk in front of our hotel. All of the onlookers were friendly and curious about the new bicycle technologies. The smiles, the greetings, the desire to communicate by the people of Tibet will be one of the great memories we will have.

With the bikes assembled and stored, it was off to the austere looking Bank of China for some currency exchange in slow time. With that complete we were off for a visit to the grounds of the Dalai Lama’s palaces. The most recent palace completed in 1954, some five years before the Chinese invasion had been preserved virtually in its state of occupancy, even to the linen on the Dalai Lama’s bed. Everywhere there was exhibited, not opulent, but painstakingly detailed decoration of walls and ceilings. One mural depicted the entire history of Tibetan Bhuddism.

After lunch we visited the Johhang, the most revered religious edifice in Tibet. Although the interior was of some interest, perhaps of greater interest was the central part it plays in the lives of the majority of Tibetans. Observing the devotions, the prostration and the mass of pilgrims and faithful in varied and colorful dress, fascinated all of us. Perhaps this is how it was in Christendom, before the reformation.

It was time for dinner and the sharing of our sense of wonder at this world that was so very different from our own, so challenged materially, so enriched culturally.

Day Three. Sunday, 18 September, (David)

I thought I had forgotten my adventurous spirit, as the trial of a lost luggage, dizzy from time changes, shortness of breath, these images crept into disastrous consequences of my mind. But lo! While lying in bed restlessly, I decided to venture forth early and ride the streets of Lhasa letting my instincts guide me. With the near full moon breaking through the clouds with the street light fading away, I crossed the river with a hushed whisper of current below me, stars above, I am realizing that one of my dreams is coming true. I’m finding myself in a most wonderful region on the planet, the world’s tallest mountains. Riding my bike on the roof of the world, amongst the spirits that reside in the sacredness of such places. My being is filled with the energy that I don’t understand. A true high fills my soul. As the dusk turned dawn, the sunrise lifted the heaviness from my heart and in the realm of earthly light my spirited soared. A truly simple pleasure filed me with delight. On and on I could go. The richness of the human spirit in Tibet has truly touched me, and this is only the beginning of a journey into heart of mystery.

Day Four. Monday, 19 September, (Barry)

I didn’t have to use the dog stick once today, so it was already an improvement over yesterday. We’re finally on our way, and out of Lhasa, with many miles ahead to Kathmandu. I’m kind of two minds about leaving Lhasa. The Kechu hotel was nice and the waiters and staff were really friendly. The women especially stand out. They insisted on carrying all our luggage — no matter how heavy. Even though they were bent double by the weight, they laughed and smiled as they carried the bags.

On the other hand I liked the monastery, but was a little undone?? by the scene at the Potala Palace. With all the tourists and the intimate look at the rooms of the 14th Dalai Llama I felt less like I was in a cultural and religious center and more like I was at an amusement park. They might as well call it "Dalaiwood" or something like that.

The ride was fairly easy today — relatively flat. What stood out to me more than the spectacular scenery was the friendliness and enthusiasm of the Tibetan people. It seemed as if everyone I passed called out hello or Tashidely, or waved energetically. That was my experience at least. Some folks reported having rocks thrown at them, children playing games or blocking their way, or having slingshot missiles fall nearby. I guess that was the advantage of being the first or one of the first to pass by. By the last rider they’re a little bored of the "hello".

I had a singular experience though that I think summed up the general attitude toward foreigners. I had gotten ahead of the main group, so I decide to stop and wait for the others. The place I picked was a sandy rock strewn expanse, and rather bleak. A Tibetan driving an oversized truck stopped, leaned out and offered me bottled water. He thought I was without and thirsty or maybe he was trying to lure me closer so as to be more in slingshot range. But I think not.

And no journal entry would be complete on this day if I did not remark on the spectacular job the sherpas are doing in setting up our camp, fixing our lunches and filling our water bottles and making our dinner. Dinner tonight was excellent. I especially enjoyed the soup, the mushrooms and the custard. I had thought that this trip with such a strenuous itinerary, would result in some weight loss. But with meals like that, I’ll have to go an a diet when I get back home.

Tomorrow we are in for a strenuous climb to a pass at almost 16,000 feet. I’m really looking forward to the walk to the top.

Day 5. Tuesday, 20 September, (John)

It began with tea served to our tent doors — a nice touch. After breakfast on the patio, day two of biking began.

Our goal was to climb about 1,000 meters (according to David’s altimeter, I think it was 1,100 to 1,200 meters) over 22 km to Kambala Pass to an elevation of 4, 794 meters or 15,724 feet.

Someone in Lhasa had said that this would be hardest day, unfortunate that it’s only our second day on bikes but good to get it over with.

The heavy breathing began almost as soon as I left our campsite. The gradual ascent never seemed to end and between gulps of air — I remember — a brilliantly clear blue sky with lots of great vistas — switch backs on switch backs — endless steams of buses; 4 x 4s filled with smiling tourists — lots of rough road, and in strange places, people doing repairs — our first yaks.

At the top there were loads of prayer flags and Tibetans offering rides on their yaks. Nipper became a star celebrity, with the tourists, for riding all the way to the top.

After lunch overlooking Lake Yamdrok we descended and camped on the shore (elevation 4,482m or 14,700 feet). A tough day but one that each of us will remember for a long time.

Day 6. Wednesday, 21 September, (Nipper)

"Issue 6 of the Dalai Yak & Cycle News"

There was frost on the pumpkin in this ??

The midnight pee contingent were treated to a fine show of stars in the clear sky, despite the moonlight that sparkled on pee streams to add to the show. Morning broke with clear sky to add to the beauty of Lake Yamdrok. Our 51 km ride was a peaceful spin along the lake shore with many spectacular vistas of lake and snow capped mountains. The last part of today’s ride was up a gentle grade beside a clear river again against a spectacular mountain peaks.

Traffic was much lighter than yesterday. The slight breeze today was generally across the road which diminished the dust nuisance effect. We had several challenging mud holes to negotiate and a stream at day’s end.

Our camp is at the confluence of two streams which will provide music for our slumbers tonight. There was light snow for an hour or two. Is this a sign of things to come? Our gossip columnist reports that Peter has been dry for five days and we understand his companions are very proud of him.

Day 7. Thursday, 22 September, (Derek)

Had a temporary start at approximately 3 a.m. with a brief trip to check the great outdoors. It was amazing but the snow covered mountains and surroundings were visible in the night light.

Tea was served by our faithful support staff and consumed in the comfort of a warm sleeping bag, A pleasant start to the day.

Once up and packed, a good breakfast was served. Across the river was a hydro electric (transmission line) construction camp. It was interesting to consider their conditions to ours. We were born in the right place.

The day’s ride started with a tough 9.8 km ride to the 16,500 foot summit of Kara La Pass. This is the highest point to date. Fortunately it was not as the Kamba La Pass. The hot lemon served a the pass eased the pain. The setting was amazing, snow covered mountains, with sheep and yaks grazing just below the pass.

The balance of the ride, 35 km, consisted of a good downhill, then through a wide valley, and along a narrow river valley. The initial kilometers were cold, with everyone bundling up, with their warmest gear. An interesting spectacle, was the sight of 100 people pulling hydro transmission cable over the hills between transmission towers. One disconcerting view is the apparent amount of erosion.

The evening’s campsite is the most interesting yet giving a 360 degree view to rivers, distant villages and people working the fields. The site is fairly small and at one point the scene was horses, carts, a small mud hut, tents and bicycles. Apparently we are camped in someone’s yard.

Day 8. Friday, 23 September, (Sonam)

Before we had a beautiful valley. Barley, people working, but today we didn’t have these because of a dam. A big lake was there instead, and a not so nice military town.

It was a good day riding, everyone was strong. Afternoon was a really bumpy and dusty road. Watching Nipper, he hasn’t yet left the seat, but did see his wheel slip out on the rocks a couple of times.

We visited Bongharo? chorten? (Poor woman chorten?). The story goes that an old woman went to Tsonsen? Gompo? (a being?) and asked for some land to build a chorten.

Tsonsen Gompo’s secretaries? ask you are a poor woman, how are you going to build a chorten? They gave her a piece of land and said you have enough land as the size of a cow skin. She unravelled the cow skin and made a rope, and stretched it out. Then she went and built the chorten.

Weather was warm and sunny, windy in the afternoon. The evening was clear sky and cool.

Day 9. Saturday, 23 September, (Peter)

A day like no other so far. The labour movement would have been proud of us, five days shalt thou cycle and on the sixth thou wilt enjoy the jeep. This day our destination was Shigatse, a Chines garrison town and the second largest town in Tibet, some 90 km to the west.

It was a beautiful day the temperature must have been close to 27C (80F). In some of our minds it’s difficult to associate like these with the Himalayas.

Our travel took us through a very broad, very flat and evidently very fertile valley, where barley was being harvested; some by hand and some by mechanization. While one can deplore the invasion by China, perhaps it’s not so different than the settlement of the Americas. A new dominant culture replacing traditional culture with hopefully at least an improved material life. Perhaps..

Some off road travel was necessary to avoid a collapsed bridge. A little collision avoidance was also a part of the package, when a light agricultural vehicle decide on a U-turn as we were overtaking. But all in all a very relaxing, a relatively dust free pastoral drive to Shigatse.

Shigatse hotel which was to be our lodging, appeared to be very upscale at the foyer and as it turned out the rooms were also very good. It had an international three star rating.

The afternoon was spent in the marketplaces, bargaining and fighting off some of the more aggressive vendors and mendicants.

In the evening we were treated to an excellent smorgasbord at the hotel, and finished the evening observing Saturday night life in Shigatse and quaffing a beer before retiring.

Day 10. Sunday, 24 September, (Steve)

The day began for myself and the majority of the crew at 8:30 for breakfast. A short walk away and we were at the Tenzin restaurant. Seeing as we needed to meet Pasang at 10:00 we picked the quickest one burner restaurant in Shigatse, omelettes, banana pancakes, toast, tea and lassis flew out of the kitchen to the tunes of the West. It was a chance to laugh a little at our surroundings, but really I think the laughter was at how different our lives are at home.

Meeting Pasang at 11:00 we packed into the Land Cruiser and headed for the monastery.

Unfortunately our tour was delayed by the sight of a street fight. Two women yelling clutching hair, kicking and generally showing signs of (mutual) dislike. Peter was quick to do something and soon the U.N. peacekeeping identity came out in all of us. The fight separated but probably resumed. We left it to the locals to keep them apart. Perhaps, but unlikely some of the spectating monks might act as peace keepers, rather than as an audience.

The most disturbing thing for me was that the police were more interested in our group visa than the fight.

The monastery was wonderful. The atmosphere here? rich, and I could feel a real calming, walking in those buildings. I especially enjoyed having two of the Sherpas along. Their kind hearts share in this day(?) and I hope all their kind hated(???) prayers bring them all they seek.

Afternoon of e-mail and wandering the streets and markets of Shigatse. Always a smile , a "hello", a "nice to meet you" or "what is your name" I love this friendly thing.

Dinner buffet was again great. Following packing(?) a case(?), but brought on by Pa Sang. An awesome experience, yet if you described it to me beforehand it would be a tough sale. It would go something like this.

"OK, we’re going to a Karaoke, but it’s not really Karaoke, it’s traditional singing and dancing. We’ll sit for a while and drink Sprites before the singing starts. Pretty Tibetan ladies will come by to fill our shot glasses with the Sprite and hand it to us. We will then feel obliged to drink and then they will refill the glass. When we finish a can of Sprite we will ceremoniously flip it upside down on the table". (Can for can we will out(?) drink the guys in the front row with their case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.) "People in nicely coloured traditional costumes will sing . The volume will be loud. We will smile at ourselves and how different we are. After ordering and finishing another round of Sprites we will leave" .

Hopefully the caffeine and sugar doesn’t keep us up too late. If dogs do bark tonight we won’t hear them.

The evening wasn’t what I expected but then whoever goes travelling to learn what they already know. I know I smiled a lot and why I smiled I don’t care. Another great day.

Day 11. Monday, 25 September, (John)

Some of us were suffering from Sprite withdrawal as our day began. We went t a nearby restaurant for breakfast to avoid the rip off price of 50 Yuan at the hotel.

As we got organized in the parking lot a group of 17 Swiss bikers left at exactly 9 a.m. and my guess is that they reached their camp site at 3:30 p.m. (not 3;32 nor 3:25). We followed a long flat valley, the road gently rolling and with the best gravel surface yet. It was hot and very dry with lots of dust from passing vehicles and some of us had our new masks which seemed to work well.

We crossed a sizeable river (the Rhe ?) and entered another wide and arid valley as the road quality deteriorated.

Highlights for the day

Peter’s bike suffered a blow out, luckily on a flat section

Bonus # 1 to discover pavement for a few km around the 55 km mark

Bonus #2 to find our tents set up at the 75 km mark, 10 km sooner than expected

The daily constants are all the Tice Delags, hellos, and waves from the Tibetans, whether we are in the city or the middle of nowhere. Today was no exception and I was reminded that human contact is a universal need.

P.S. For the first time I saw

(i) a hoopoo - a medium sized bird with a huge exotic crown

(ii) a shepherd using his sling shot to shoot stones at the sheep

Day 12. Tuesday 26 September, (Nipper)

The next day name and number uncertain.

We wake to a perfect blue sky morning the perfection of which is broken as a convoy of about ten trucks rounds the bend filling the air with dust to remind us of real life on the Tibetan road.

We are favoured by a 22 km stretch of black top plus two bonus 5 km sections this day.

The route is up a nondescript valley to a short climb over a pass and to a good downhill to go down a nondescript valley.

Today our journey is enlivened by minor incidents:

Peter engages in a spitting exchange with no damage to either party

I am pelted by a couple of children, only one small missile strikes the mark

"Thunder thighs Jackson" breaks his chain in a display of power

The day gets quite hot and most of us are pooped as we climb to our campsite, in view of the Swiss who have usurped the camp spot Sonam had planned for us.

David gave us some tips on energy input versus energy output.

There was a brilliant show of stars by bed time, the brightest I have ever seen. The usually Cassiopeia was barely discernible among surrounding stars usually only seen with binoculars.

Major incident not to be overlooked was an accident (to Steve) which injured his knee and shoulder. He is listed as a "walking wounded" and is expected to carry on.
 
 

Day 13. Wednesday, 27 September, (Derek)

A long day, rewarding, but one our most challenging yet. The day began with breakfast and the ever present watchful eyes of Tibetan children. It was a tad chilly and we impatiently watched the sunlight creep down the rocky cliffs toward us.

Soon after breakfast we were on our bikes. And what a ride it was . From the beginning the road had one thought in mind for us....up. Just as Eskimos have many variations of (and words for) snow, the Tibetan roads have many variations of incline, steep, gradual, slight, sandy, rocky, the list is lengthy. But one thing is for sure, we experienced everyone of them today. The climb was unrelenting for 22 km. In that time we climbed over 4,000 vertical feet (1,200 m). But if the climb was challenging the wind was brutal. It seemed intent on blocking us from our summit. Kicking up dust, blowing sideways, whistling through our helmets , it was our adversary until the end.

But we made it to the top. Special mention goes to John who kicked it into 4-wheel drive for the ascent. At the top a virtual kaleidoscope of multicoloured prayer flags were snapping in the wind while a new range of mountains with snow covered peaks greeted us. It is believed that we caught our first glimpse of the Himalayas.

The only disappointed person at the summit was Nipper whose fan club was absent to take pictures of that now Tibetan-wide famous visage.

After a short stay at the top we began our descent to camp. The road was a four lane blacktop and it was smooth sailing all the way. OK, maybe before the monsoons there was some blacktop. Now, the only black was from mud holes. But who come to Tibet to bike on pavement anyway? We gritted our teeth (which wasn’t hard with all the grit already in there) and finally made it into camp in late afternoon. A tough day, but exactly why we came on this tour in the first place.

Day 14. Thursday, September 28, (David)

Arising from a poor night’s sleep, probably due to the elevation of around 16,000 feet and the exhilaration from yesterday’s ride. Clear and the coldest yet, frost inside the tent and a frozen water line from my camel back. Hot cocoa was gratefully received at an early hour, I did not venture outside of my tent until the sun was actually warming my face. Beautiful on the patio, sun up already cheering the day with prospects of the longest downhill. I look forward to the descent down he valley. Ice formed at the streams edge upon leaving camp. My blood in my body feels the same, slow to thaw us again the bone and butt bouncing bumps batter our weary body. On and on I gracefully fall into the pattern of the day, warmer and friendlier. Greetings of hello continue as before but I am growing more uneasy as the kids line the roadway, asking for things I do not have, or wish to give with a possibility of hostility of denial with nothing to please their desires or wants. But I cheerily say good-bye and weave through the gaps between the more courageous kids. I feel sad that this is here and wonder how this is so. But alas nothing really happens.

Always wondering what’s coming around the corner. Ever winding down stream that turns into a river, Mount Everest perhaps, and there it was but only for a brief moment as the cloud swirled around. But it was captured on film because it was there.

Checkpoint Zulu loomed ahead after having lunch. No hitches, as our team have taken good care of us. Thanks Pasan and drivers.

Rolling down the highway ever closer to the big mountain., we turn off , a climb of 200 meters and 5 km later, camp. It was a great one, views and quiet. I enjoyed a nap and a restful afternoon. a great dinner and early to bed, knowing that I had enjoyed biking up and over the third highest pass with confidence and accomplishment.

Day 15. Friday, 29 September, (Derek)

We woke to a cold day as evidenced by the small frozen stream that passes through the campsite. However the transition to the cold morning was eased with the delivery of hot tea to be consumed prior to emerging from the warm sleeping bag. Emerging from the tent, dressed in many layers, one was rewarded with almost a perfectly situated campsite, expansive views of distant hills and mountains, a river below and in the distance what appears to be a picturesque Tibetan village.

The cycling breakfast group presented an interesting sight of individuals huddled together, some eating with gloves, talking about how cold it was. Fortunately there was warming sun by the time breakfast finished.

Once camp was packed we were driven to the top of a 5,000 meter pass for our first real dramatic view of Mount Everest and surrounding mountains. Unfortunately they were

partially covered in clouds, but awe inspiring nonetheless. The drive up to the pass over what were some of the worst roads to date , impressed us with the skill of our driver and the durability of the land Cruiser.

The bikes were unloaded for the ride down from the pass. As we started, Husin told us to be careful. His concern seemed to be consistent with his gentle thoughtful character. Earlier he had given us two Barley seed blessed by the Dalai Lama as a token of good luck.

Concentration was the word for the ride down. The road was very rough for the ride down requiring constant attention and lots of hand numbing braking. At least four separate spills occurred, but fortunately none were serious. Enjoying the magnificent views required stopping for when cycling all attention was directed to the road ahead.

It was amazing but for a ride of 30 km downhill and level, an average speed of only 12 kph was achieved.

The ride finished through a narrow valley, passing through a few villages to end at another campsite with magnificent vistas of mountains.

Day 16. Saturday, 30 September, (Peter)

Another cold morning, signs of frost all about. Ablutions were performed, visits to the biffy were made, some I understand in duplicate. Breakfast was again held on the terrace, with the porridge again being used as much for a hand warmer as a for a source of nutrition.

This day was to be an exciting day; within a few hours we were hopeful that we would be catching sight of the world’s highest mountain, the stuff of legend, Mt. Everest. The mountain that captures the imagination of all.

The leg this day was to be but 32 km with an approximately 800 meter ascent to a campsite at Rombak monastery. We had understood that within 5 km of our departure we would encounter something akin to the "yellow brick road" .It was not to be. What we encountered were some of the roughest road conditions to date. Two of our "illustrious" few opted for the Land Cruiser after 75% of the leg. Their names will go without mention at the request of those who conquered the path to Everest.

Our new campsite was ideally sited, virtually in the grounds of the monastery (nunnery also), beside a tea/beer house and with tent openings all aligned for viewing of the mighty mountain, thanks to our ever sensitive support staff.

An hour or so was spent in the teahouse waiting for bigger breaks in the clouds to reveal the imposing magnificence of Everest. By 7:00 p.m. we were rewarded, and our cameras recorded our individual memories.

A new feature today in our camp life, a pressurized hot shower which allowed the purification of those parts of our body which had spent the better part the past few days in contact with our saddles.

The evening concluded with the ever welcome hot soup, a main course including pizza, and finally planning for tomorrow’s visit to base camp. Then off to our tents and preparation for a cold night.

Day 17. Sunday, October 1, (John)

A cool morning to say the least. Our rugged Sherpas weathered the cold to bring us tea and hot water. I wish I could say I was as rugged as our Sherpas. By the time I stuck my weary face out of the tent my wash water was cool.

At least I was alive. There were several instances in the night when I awoke fighting to breathe. I understand that I am not the only one who had breathing difficulties.

After breakfast we waited eagerly for the sun to cross the valley. The silhouette of the mountains behind us showed us their shapes on the other side of the valley. Once the sun hit the camp new vitality found our group. People getting ready for riding up to base camp. Some chose more comfortable forms of riding to the bas camp.

I bounced along on my bike for I don’t know how long. Road was OK but not something I would want too much time on.

Base camp looked a lot like it did from camp only closer. After being photographed with some travellers from Shanghai, myself David and Barry joined the rest of the group atop a great lookout hill with prayer flags and memorial stones to climbers who had died in pursuit of Chodangmas summit. We sunned for a while, then returned for lunch. David and Barry climbed to about 6,000 m trekking peak to get better views of Everest.

I returned the more comfortable way back to camp. And while David and Barry worked their way to the "summit", I lounged around camp. I even took a shower. The shower contraption consists of a big container of heated water from the kitchen, with a pump handle and a shower head. The pump pressures the water and you squeeze the trigger. Warm water comes out of the shower head. The sherpas around the kitchen had a good laugh at my silhouette created by the sun on the shower tent wall.

Development is big in China. Our campsite proved to be no different. Tents sprang up everywhere. We are not so sure why they are so close. Only one things springs to mind. Peter (the "mark") Bailey had made pleasant conversation with a nice German girl. Talk was of what each other wears to bed, uncertainty of where she was going to sleep that night, all the good stuff. Perhaps she wanted to have her tent close to Peter’s and Nipper’s and maybe sneak into the tent while Nipper was adding to the crystal clear waters of Tibet.

Changing topics. There was a sliver of the moon out and wow did it ever light up Everest. The snow glowed down the valley. And as I write this I am excited about my first jaunt out of my tent for a pee to see it aglow. I only hope it doesn’t distract me so as to walk over, trip or pee on any of the newcomers’ tents.

Day 18. Monday, 2 October, (Nipper)

Another cool camp, around 20F according to Barry’s thermometer.

Everest in full view minus the silver patina from the partial moonlight which? made it magic last night.

We eat breakfast wearing gloves as usual on this unusual tour.

Our side of the valley floods with warmer sunshine and other more civilized tourists begin to rise. We look alive and get the vehicles loaded, bikes and all as we plan to motor back the way we came to the Lhasa to Kathmandu highway and beyond. To maintain our schedule we will drive some 220-245 km depending on the authority chosen.

We have the opportunity to watch the driver mechanics at work. They replace an outer rear wheel, they dispense with a jack and run the vehicle over a deep rut and pull it off. Air supplied from an engine driven compressor without benefit of an air hose to a valve stem connection. Just quick fingers and a long valve core/cone assembly. Other brief mechanical services were undertaken along the way.

Land Cruiser travel involves cramped quarters for two of our number, and all volunteer to share the burden.

We are heading up a broad valley with occasional views of the big guys from time to time. As the valley narrows we climb a bit to save some cycle climbing tomorrow. We have a couple of high passes ahead of us before nightfall tomorrow. The dust will be a bitch. Camp tonight is on a bank above a pleasant small river.

Day 19. Tuesday, 3 October, (David) David, I had some difficulty with your writing in this next passage, hopefully when you get back you can straighten me out, Peter.

Morning routine was as usual. However the sun did not touch our faces before we started out, so a cold start. With two passes to cross, the next? of the Himalayan backbone and then the descent into Nepal. This I consider the heart of our trip. The first high broad pass brought the mountains closer to view and they were breathtaking, for it really took my breath away. Soon a sxxxx? and fast descent down to lunch. Soon up again we were off, the sun shone briskly with few clouds and little wind yet. A spectacular experience was my experience as we rode toward the ever looming mountains. Unbelievable as I rode up xx? sheer dexxx? of the rexxx? of a truly remarkable and sacred space. I was so happy being up there in a very special place Rea? the top ? I’m ? on the sheer beauty of the 360 degrees of normally? powerful? forces? of the earth. A group photo signalled our anticipation of a truly remarkable decent. On and on our wheels spun. Mountain tops made way into canyon walls. A stream, then river as we dropped in elevation. A river turned to a torrent as it cut steep sided xxx? on its way to the ocean. Out of Nepal and into India. As we cut into the heart of the Himalayas? A strong wind was up the canyon very xx?

I sensed a change in weather pattern and topography on we went against the wind. We were gathered up in the truck xx? xx? xx? as we were short of our camping destination. Dinner at a village I can’t remember but the food was good. Low clouds gave me an ominous feeling, but that changed and the yak shit fire, our first, warmed me. The night’s celebration wore on. With a realization of a trip near its completion, our last camping and we must say good-bye to our cultural guide Pasan and the drivers as we enter Nepal in 33 km the following day. Good stories were read? by the ?light and heat of the fire which gave me warmth of friendship that I experienced these last ten days. New friends made and memories ? to keep, this day will be remembered as one of my best. Thanks everybody, this was a truly remarkable time for me and journey I will never forget.

Day 20. Wednesday, 4 October, (Barry)

Our second to last day of cycling, and our last day of camping. Today was a day changes, change of country — we left Tibet and crossed into Nepal, changes in altitude — we coasted downhill almost 3,000 meters — changes in the land, we rolled from rocky landscape to grasses, to bushes, to trees, to forests — from snow covered peaks to lush terraced hills, from bare slopes to countless waterfalls which appeared seamless from mountain top to river bottom.

The river dropped far below the road in places and we travelled at times on the edge of a precipitous gorge. At one bridge crossing we saw the twisted and mangled remains of one truck which failed to stay on the safe side of the gorge. Some of us were hopeful that our Tibetan truck driver would learn a lesson from that sight — but then we realized that he would have to slow down in order to see it. Maybe Nipper can send him the photo.

After riding through the countryside, the border town sprang into sight suddenly after we rounded a turn. An ungainly sight of modern buildings and satellite dishes mixed with ramshackle dwellings and sheer drop-offs, it was surely a work in progress.

At the border we said good-bye to our cultural guide Pasan. He seemed especially emotional about the separation. It turned out that he was dreading the long ride back to Lhasa without Nipper’s company in the front seat. After the parting we thought we would smoothly ride into Nepal, but this turned out to be wishful thinking. Our truck and bikes were abruptly stopped by a sign which read "Blowup — Danger" .At first we thought that Peter must be up ahead, but then realized that blasting must be taking place. (Very easy to confuse the two).

Fortunately there were many porters available who were willing to lug our gear from the road down a very steep hill bypassing the dynamiting to a waiting truck on the other side . This allowed them the chance earn some much needed money. It also allowed Steve to achieve additional future scar tissue on his knees, when he took a tumble, while carrying a gas canister. (Again Peter was not involved).

Shortly, we entered Nepal after encountering the congenial and talkative Customs staff at the Nepalese border. Our guest house was a short distance down the road, and we made ready to bathe in a nearby hot spring. All but Derek participated in this event — he preferred instead to enjoy the steamy hot shower of the guest house.

The hot springs were warm and pleasant, and a nice way to relax at the end of a day. It was at this point that David’s socks, apparently irritated at changes in his itinerary, attempted to go rafting without him. (It should also be noted that with his anticipation of his river trip, several of us half way expected to see him fashion a yak skin boat in order to get started on time).

The final major development of the day involved John "I’d walk a mile for my Kit-Kat" Durley, who has decided to write a new suspense novel entitled "The Man Who Never Returned From Gardening"

All that said special mention should go to the sherpas, who leave us Thursday morning. A harder working bunch surely cannot exist; and we will miss their presence greatly. In fact there is some concern that domestic arguments might arise back home — as we have begun to expect "Bed-tea" and washing water in the morning. It was a day of changes and a day of good-byes. So like the river outside the guest house our trip began slowly and now it seems to be racing toward the end. But hopefully, we won’t be swept up in anticipation of the end of the journey or our next trip beyond — but will instead pick up those memories from this trip — whether high mountain passes, dinner by candlelight, friendly Tibetan and Nepalese people, or campfire camaraderie — and take these memories with us wherever else we might go.

Day 21. Thursday, 5 October, (John)

The day began with the tea in the tent tradition modified to tea in the guest house room, and a guest house breakfast. After saying good-bye to the support people who could never do enough for us, we continued down the raging river of yesterday.

As this was our last day of biking we could smell the barn and I felt a conflict between speed and savouring all the sights. Some of them were

kids playing badminton in the road

lots of laundry being done

animals being slaughtered

a huge hydra project still under construction

Sonam chasing a truck when one of its passengers yelled "brother tucker" or similar.

The vegetation became more lush, the terraced hills more extensive and the vistas wider.

We ‘hit’ pavement in the bustling town of Barhabise and this became a great rolling highway. Then a longish ascent (not in Tibetan terms) followed by a great descent into the town of Dolalghat where our bus sat waiting for us.

After some photo-ops to record the end of our bike tour, the bikes were loaded onto the roof of the bus and we drove up to Dhulikhel. The scenery was breathtaking and we finally came to ‘High View’ a resort. The series of bungalows are aptly named, and after a shower with real hot water, I’m savoring the view and an outstanding bike tour.

We later had a meal of Nepalese specialties, followed by a couple of rounds of ‘raksi’ otherwise known as Himalayan water. And then to sleep, perchance to dream of endless asphalt roads to bike.

Day 22. Friday, 6 October, (Steve)

Waking up to a great view of Nepal distant drums and singing of the festival going on. Our crew decided to Dhulikiel. Peter and John found an interest, "oldest son" who gave them a feel for the way things were in Nepal.

The sun was wonderful and its warmth welcome, compared to the cold of a few days before.

A wonderful breakfast with an amazing view. We said good-bye to David on his way to a white water river, drank the last drips of coffee and tea, the last of our trip outside the city.

On the bus we watched terraced hills and countryside slowly turn to homes, then large buildings. Eventually the grass turned to concrete, fresh air becomes not so fresh. Soon horns blast, we dodge a cow or two and we are at the Moonlight Hotel in Kathmandu. After the logistics, idle wandering is the order of the day, then some e-mail.

Our final meal. All the sherpa guides, everyone short of David, who is likely enjoying a riverside campsite now. Our sherpas were a little wide-eyed at Rum Doodle restaurant. First they had difficulty reading the menu. Turns out that Nipper and Peter left the technique of ordering as their legacy. Tensing ordered and Pasang says "same", Tsongpo says "same", and we all laugh.

For me having our sherpas there made my night. They made me comfortable in a foreign place and perhaps I brought them to this restaurant as an oasis of ‘westernism’ .Brought them a little of our world to them. It was Nipper’s final night. Sad when he left the next morning. I believe I detected a slight well-up in his eye as we shook hands as he said good-bye.

I guess this dream has finally come to a close.