Day 15.. Sound of the himalayas

 

Day 15... Song of the Himalayas

Once again... I was late out of the hotel. Manang, and the Tilicho hotel in particular offer some comforts, good food, warmth. It was hard to leave, which is why I had to. I had previously been considering another rest day, mainly because my cold hasn’t got any better. But it hasn’t got any worse and there is a risk that if I stayed in Manang another night, the impetus to go over the pass would quickly wane. 

The word on the street was that the first bit out of Manang would be the worst and indeed I could see it stretching up and up. The sun was out and it was still warm enough for my shorts (yup they are still going!) I packed up as soon as I could, settled the not insubstantial bill, packed my bike and readied myself for the hard slog. The aim. For the day was Yak Kharka... only 5 miles away but a good 1500 ft higher

5 Tmiles! Easy day you say! Not around here. I was 11600ft when I left and breathing when exerting yourself at that altitude is not easy.  And then there was the trail which switchbacked up from Manang in ever harder gradients. I saw my first yaks of the trip, set against a background of white capped mountains... a quintessential scene. 

The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful and I could appreciate on my frequent stops to catch my breath. Other than that it was all muscles to the helm to drag both myself and the bike up the neverending incline. 

Then came the steps... 100’s... nay thousands of the buggers. Each one its own particular torture. It took a lot of effort to push, pull, cajole the bike up and over those. The cycling gods were having their fun after my rest day and this was ceuel and unusual punishment. After the steps was the point that no motorised vehicles are allowed and the track became thinner as it wound its way up. There was no real respite from the incline and although once or twice I flung my leg over my bike in the hope I could ride, after a few hundred yards came upon an incline that would kill my legs and leace me completely breathless and in a bit of a coughing fit. So I resigned myself to hike a bile and just tried to enjoy the view and the fresh air and the fact I was here. 

The trekkers had begun to overtake me, we were all now on the same path to Thorung La pass and inevitably they were quicker. I did have some envy of them strolling along with their day sacks, altgough there were a few seemingly carrying their own kit. Sometimes I wish I had been born without the craZy gene as it means I inevitably make life harder for myself sometimes, this point in time being one of them! 

At one point I could see a train of either yaks or horses, wasn’t sure which at that distance, coming up fast behind me and I looked for a place to pull in and let them past. Having identified this spot a bit up ahead, I heard bells and the thundering of hooves coming from above me. A herd of Yaks was charging towards me down the path and they didn’t look like they would stop for anything. I used the last of my effort and breath to throw ny bike up to a safe place and dived for the side of the path. 

I then scrambled for my phone to video this sight. They charged passed me clearly wanting their rest day in Manang too. Their herder followed after trying to gain a modicum of control but Im not sure he did. Once they were passed, I sat and waited for the other train to cone from behind me and past ne as it was pointless to go on until they had.

The horses as they came past, for the most part looked well cared for. They were carrying reasonable loads and they stepped on unerringly with their herder bringing up the rear.

Once they were past, I could continue on up without feeling chased by a train.

As I went further up, the high mountains felt closer and revealed more of themselves. Glaciers tumbled down their sides towards the river below, which was now a thin stream of rushing whirling water.

It was a case of foot after foot after foot. Keep plodding on, a battle of wills, me versus this path, which seemed to have no intention of giving me any respite. I was trying to keep drinking plenty of water and pondering about stopping for some food as was about halfway. In the end I stopped for a cup of tea, which refreshed and fortified me.

Then the path miraculously levelled out a bit and even had a small bit of descent. I was over 13500ft and I would say that this was deserved for my day of labour. The downhill, flat bit was on a narrow somewhat technical path which was ok to ride and a bit of fun, though there were one or 2 places where it was quite close to the edge and made my stomach clench a little. Still the miles, or at least the 0.1 of miles were going quicker and I was getting closer to my destination for today.

Of course it didn’t last and once again went uphill with several steep and muscle breaking climbs bu t then more downhill, short but satisfying. I even went past a few trekkers, catching up on ground I had lost on the uphill.

At several points on the path, I heard a song being played, a haunting noise. I realised it was actually the wind whistling through the pylons that was making the noise but it was a beautiful sound, the song of the himalayas being played to an ear willing to listen. 

I crossed another suspension bridge which swayed badly and then pushed up the other side. In the distance I could see Yak Kharka. To my left, trekkers who had come from Tilicho lake were merging with this path, all aiming for this tiny windswept villagge that had so much significance to us, yet was a few hotels and houses only. It didn’t take long to reach it, a bit of flat rideable path aiding my progress. 

Despite the altitude and the exertions, it was still early and as I rested next to a hotel in Yak Kharka, watching some of the other trekkers eating and drinking ahving reached their stopping ace for the night, I looked up. There perched atop another rise was another hotel. About a mile up the road. I felt good and new that if I stopped to eat at Yak Kharka, I would just stop, so I kept on putting one foot in front of the other and made my way to the hotel further up. Ot was a good decision. When I got there, the food cooking smelt good. The rooms, whilst very basic, with a drop toilet (yup back to that) seemed cosy and had 2 blankets in. There was wifi, though not in the rooms and I was now higher up and a mile further down the road than I would have been, giving me less to do tomorrow. 

I sorted myself out, bundled on some warm clothes and then ordered some pasta with cheese and chips, both of which I managed to polish off nicely. There were a few other trekkers here and one insane guy who had stopped for food but announced his intention to go straight up to high camp today. A massive increase in altitude for one day. Not the most sensible of plans for sure. 

I was so tired. Breathing here took a lot of effort and every now and again I would dissolve into a coughing fit. Whilst I still think ny cough is still mainly a cold, clearly it is exacerbated by the altitude. My sats at 13500ft are 91% which is ok and generally breathing is not too laboured. My Heart rate is unsurprisingly higher than normal but these things are all to be expected and there was nothing unduly worrying about any of this. 

It got cold quick. And even with a fire in the dining room, I was chilly. I hauled myself off to my room and dived under the 2 blankets fully clothed, waiting to warm up. It took an absolute age and I did consider taking out my sleeping bag. I watched the stars in the night sky through my window and eventually dropped into what turned out to be a restless sleep. 

One more night like this then up and over the pass and the hard bit is done. Its just as well because my body is starting to rebel against working conditions. 

LHS