(The Longest Uphill Ride in the World - Days four to nine)

from Zhangmu to Tsomo

Refreshed after a nights sleep we were able once again to tackle our biggest challenge. We left the Pema Guest House in Zhangmu and began the climb up towards the support vehicle where we would finally be able to unburden ourselves with the food, cooker and other various items that we had seen fit to bring along once the support vehicle had been confirmed. First though, we encountered yet another break in the road, and a huge gang of Tibetan workers picking at the rubble by hand and screaming out to us - more greetings of Tashi Dele, and Dally Lama - they are desperate for pictures of their exiled leader. Such material is highly illegal in the People's Republic and so we sadly can't oblige.

Our vehicle is a Dong Feng Chinese clunker of a lorry - and is to be Dean's make shift home for the next 2-3 weeks. We pedal safely through the checkpost just north of the town and we're away - free to roam into Tibet by bicycle. This is a truly magical moment - and I feel like asking someone to pinch me - can it be real?

The road is smooth packed sand and makes for easy riding, and at first even the gradient seems quite gentle - we make hay in the mid morning sunshine. The gradient becomes more serious as we proceed and its not too long before our wheels are crunching through slush, and then ice and snow. The valley is still steep sided and the road is cut into the hill from time to time - we ride inside and surrounded by rock sometimes. We meet the truck once along the route and then arrange to continue to our end point. Just half an hour before the end of play the clouds come across and the wind picks up and from being a magical and enchanting warm scene, the landscape becomes altogether more serious and grey looking. By the time we hit Chusang by the river (our camp for the night), white flakes are tumbling, and we are shivering.

The tents go up in a flash - no bivvy bags any more - we're now on to Terra Nova Solar 2 tents - and we pile our gear inside out of the snow. We meanwhile don as much of our cold weather clothing as we can and huddle together in the back of the truck. The truck has an ingenious 'straight through' design that allows for icy blasts and fat snow flakes to join us as we try to make a sensible dinner. Tomato Soup, pasta and chunks of Dak Ham from a tin seems like a good feed to hungry and cold cyclists, and we laugh at the scene. We warm hands on cup after cup of Tang and Black tea, and we wonder inside how we shall cope with this for the nights above Nyalam - at elevations of 4000 and 4400m (we're only at 3200m here!). By the time we retreat to the tents the snow has fully covered the tops of the tents, and the temperature is dropping like a stone - well below freezing and its not even dark.

The light of day is a welcome relief from this night - but we wait for the sun to come lower into the valley before we struggle out of our bags. Freezing hands from filling water cans and washing mugs in the snow are warmed through using hands on hot Nalgene bottle of powdered milk, and we stoke our metabolisms with muesli, tea and cornflakes.

Its welcoming to ride - we warm through properly and soon the sun has actually risen high enough that we can see it. The ride is memorable stuff - the snow is all around us and in places has drifted spectacularly. Nick remarks that he has always wanted to ride through a snow cutting - and behold the road passes through a drift higher than the lorry. We snowball and laugh, excited by the pure adventure of where we are. We pass Tibetan villagers pulling a cart by hand and marvel at their resilience - just natural traditional clothes for them. A few more switchbacks and we ride on through pure snow - its all around on the hillside and the road is barely passable for a single line of traffic. One last bend around the hill and we ride beneath a fluttering string of prayer flags signifying the beginning of Nyalam. As we look back on where we have come from we can see high Himalayan peaks commanding in the back ground - we're getting there!

We all have minor symptoms from the altitude - shortness of breath and slight headaches overnight, and so we stick with our original plan of a rest day here in Nyalam at 3750m. Its not a particularly inspiring or Tibetan place but we find good food and thermos after thermos of hot water to help us stay hydrated and to help us clean up. It’s a humbling experience as we sit in the warmth of the Amdo restaurant in the evening time and see peering faces of Tibetan locals both young and old - noses pressed hard to the glass to catch a glimpse of the Western folk on bikes.

Overnight the cold again is biting - but with the extra blankets provided we keep warm. Dean also makes use of a previous recommendation when we fill the Ortlieb water sacks with the contents of one of the Thermos's to make a beautiful hot water bottle. This has the added advantage that in the morning with a rasping thirst on - I am able to drink freely of clean water.

To our dismay as we prepare to leave Nyalam - the snow and wind combine to produce a fantastic blizzard. We retreat for more green tea and to see if we will be given a respite - but we only find a redoubling of the snowfall - and so we clad ourselves in our Lowe Adrenaline gear, gloves, mitts and ride on. We shan't be able to put up with this all day, but to begin the day, we are all up for the challenge - facing the blizzard head on (metaphorically that is - gladly the wind is actually from behind!). We meet Tibetans on foot and on horseback descending the road ice encrusted and clearly beaten up by the cold and they warn us to turn back - but we are of determined mood - and we storm on - climbing higher and becoming less concerned by the snow. The snow gusts and drifts - spectacularly at times a moving mist of snow drifts across the road, around the wheels and over our feet. As we round a corner it blows up in to cloud and Nick Rich and Andrew disappear momentarily - this is incredible cycling.

The snow eventually relents and we are treated to a view of our valley - now flattened out somewhat - and we are riding alongside the river. We pass herds of Yak and their farmers - spritely running around the fields - but not keen for a photo - impossible to get close!

We cross the Po Chu Bridge and soon arrive at our stop for the night - a road building camp - its freezing already and its only mid afternoon. I for one don't feel mad about camping and we speak to the inhabitants of the camp and they oblige us with an empty concrete room. We are all overjoyed - somewhere to shelter from the snow and the cold. We cook and feed that afternoon and try to keep the door as tightly shut as possible - to stop drafts of snow flying in.

Mild headaches in the night - I think mainly brought about by dehydration. The air is so cold and dry that as you sleep you can feel the moisture being sucked from you - its an odd sensation! Glad again for the morning - and we set off as the sun reaches over the hill. The snow has covered the road fully and Sony our guide is not convinced that we shall be able to ride. I think this is daft and we pedal off - but it is indeed hard toil - keeping the bike upright and moving forward in anything more than a couple of inches of unpacked snow is virtually impossible and we resort to pushing most of the way for our first stretch. We push for 10k's and are bewildered, out of breath and not enchanted at the thought of 10 more like that - and so we opt to walk - leaving the bikes in the vehicle. The walk is out of this world - with the snow continuing to fall and drift - the temperature is low but we are in our full complement of cold weather gear and so we're up to the conditions. I think to myself as I walk - how could the adventure be any more complete - porters, snow, high Himalayas, walking, biking, camping beneath snow laden tents - and all this in a country that really we might not have been able to visit at all!

The road surface improves, and the snow is less heavy on the ground and after 5 k's of easy walking we meet the truck again and opt to pull the bikes back off again and ride once more. The air is getting thinner by the minute and Andrew and Dean have quite severe headaches by the time we reach Dulung Village our stop for the night. Its hardly surprising now that we have reached some 4600m and are readying ourselves for the big push over the high passes tomorrow. We rest again in another roadcamp, and are treated to a royal welcome by the locals. Dean is offered cups of hot black tea and sits next to the fire - smiling and offering thanks in return 'Tuchee Che', in her newly learned Tibetan. Unfortunately after an initial improvement in her headache Dean has a rapid relapse and both her and Andrew end up hiding inside their sleeping bags, complaining of splitting heads. Dean's primary concern apart from her head was - "What would my Dad say if he could see me now - What am I doing here?" Its a fair question - and as I look around the concrete box of a room to see shivering faces and two altitude debilitated team members I wonder what on earth will happen tomorrow as we continue to climb higher.

Its our 'Cup Final' day! I try to encourage everyone in spite of their headaches and weary bodies. This really is the pinnacle of an adventure cycling career - to be on the verge of the first 5000m pass on the Friendship Highway Tibet. We set off pedalling in our smallest gears but Andrew soon opts for the walking and pushing strategy - the exertion he feels is not worth the small extra increase in speed and so we all follow his pace. Its only 13km to the top of the Tong La Pass - and a climb of about 600m, but it’s a slow slow journey. The snow returns to the ground and although it is rideable, its not long until we reach a section of foot deep soft fresh snow. At this point the support vehicle is forced to retrace its steps, whilst we carry and push our bikes through - heavy legs feel like they are wading through treacle. The road consists of quite shallow gradient switchbacks - but with the substantial covering of snow we opt to pull away and walk direct across the rough ground up to the next swoop of the road. This indeed saves us kilometres but it is lung bursting work - pushing and carrying our bikes up the steeper gradient. We pause regularly - Nick's words describing our condition perfectly - 'aw shambles, I'm pretty Twisted m'self!'. The last kilometre marker comes into sight and we have firmer packed snow by the 4 wheel drives who have used the short cut up the side of the hill, and so some of us are able to pedal. Although I have a headache I feel that pedalling is easier somehow - it feels as if my legs require less oxygen to propel me up the hill than when I walk and so when its possible I use this option.

Around the last corner and we see the fluttering prayer flags atop the Tong La - signifying the pass and the end of our uphill slog. Its an emotional moment, the fatigue, the team's effort, the endless time invested by everyone in reaching this point, to see Dean waiting at the top for us, and the pure spiritual feeling of this special place for us - I can't help but get a lump in my throat and the tears flood to my eyes - its really an unbelievable moment. Its not long though and my thoughts turn to the pounding headache that bangs away in my skull - every moment sees our pain increasing and so after a few quick snaps and Nick hanging his own prayer flag amongst the fluttering kaleidoscope of colours - we're off - down the other side into the saddle between the Tong La and the Lalung La passes.

Frustratingly although it feels that we have done the hard work we now have to drop by 250m and then to once again climb by another 200m. The descent is exhilarating and we fly down the rough road - melted frozen mud, ice and water splattering up over us and our Saracen steeds, but we care not. That is until we reach the next climb when we realise that once again our gear shifting systems have frozen solid - and its impossible to find a gear small enough to carry us up the next climb. We are all confined to 'Shank's Pony' once again - and a painful labourious slog begins - taking well over an hour to walk up to the Lalung La. Rich Scrivens by this point is running on rock bottom empty - knackered as a knackered thing - and he drags behind the group. I walk with him and try to chat - but inspired conversation is rather hard to come by just now - especially when I know that Andrew really needs to get down from this altitude quickly his head is worsening and I don't think it will be that long before he's sick. I bark at everyone when we reach Lalung La to get a move on - barely time for a picture - we sling Richy's bike on board the lorry, stuff down a quick cake and some fluids and we plunge over the precipice into our first Tibetan descent.

We catch our first glimpse of the real Tibetan Plateau - and we scream with delight - as much as headaches will allow. The descent is mixed between smooth sandy drops - where we fly at breakneck speed, and corrugations - uncomfortably closely spaced bumps that shake the biceps and shoulders uncontrollably as we judder overhead. Each bump shakes my head and my dehydrated brain seems to rattle around inside - a curious sensation - and very painful. As we drop though our condition improves and at the bottom of the hill we find ourselves in some kind of Tibetan dream world - at around 4500m its sunny and warm, and the people that we pass seem to be at ease and happy in the evening sunshine. Tsomo village arrives quickly and 4 knackered but satisfied cyclists pull in to the truckstop to enjoy well earned bowls of Thugpa (Thick Noodle Soup), and lashings of Jasmine Tea.
WOW! - We made it to the plateau!