The Roof of the World

Tibet is in one of the most isolated regions in the world, bound to the south by the 2500km long Himalayas and to the west by the immense Karakoram mountain range and for most of our long journey out here, this had been flagged up as the section that separates the men from the boys and wow, was it a tough one.

Our final mountain pass out of China had opened up a vista of peaks stretching off into the distance. No wonder Tibet is dubbed the Roof of the World and we were about to try and ride across it. Our first night had been spent at 4000 metres, an unsettled night for all as the lack of oxygen affects sleep patterns and causes restless dreams. As we got up yawning and breathless, the sobering thought was that we’d just had what would be our lowest altitude night for some time.

We rode off not knowing what to expect, except that it would not be easy… river crossings, precipitous slopes, snow, sand, gravel, bull dust and mud, there was one thing we knew for certain and that was not to expect tarmac. On the plus side there isn’t much in the way of other traffic up here, though where there is, it’s often big lorries creating huge dust clouds. Various roadworks added to our problems, the loose surfaces they were laying combined with the bulldozers and JCBs were extra obstacles. The workers themselves, both Chinese and Tibetan were living in tents huddled together on the wind-swept slopes, we realised some of these tents were housing their families, an incredibly hard existence at these altitudes in such flimsy abodes.

It was an arduous ride, though we were rewarded by views that were breath-taking, Tibet is the land of massive vistas and big sky, wherever we pointed our cameras we were getting great pictures. The lakes are turquoise and the mountains are suitably jagged and snow-clad. Narrow twisty tracks took us around the edges of the lakes, at times we were just inches from the water’s edge.

The toughest day saw us cover more than 200 miles riding at over 5000 metres all day on loose gravel, going through four snowstorms and struggling to find shelter anywhere. One of the bikes was run off the track by a lorry and sustained some damage. Another bike went over on uneven ground and due to the angle and effect of the altitude the rider was unable to right it and had to wait for assistance- this meant almost an hour at temperatures hovering around the freezing mark before a lorry came past, which was flagged down and the driver and his mate got out to help. Each mile was hard fought to achieve, the occasional settlement provided a bit of shelter and, if we were lucky, noodles in a warming soup, and a place where we could cluster around the yak dung fire, counting each rider in. Both the bikes and the riders were starved of oxygen affecting our riding, handling and coordination. Those who had previously conquered the lofty heights of the Andes on their bikes were in awe at the altitudes we were reaching on this expedition. Heated clothing was switched on for all those who had it, the unlucky three without that luxury (actually a necessity at these elevations) were to be found attempting to bribe others to give up their heated items for them to use.

With gritted teeth and a feeling of achieving something that very few other people in the world will do, we rode past stunning panoramas which if the oxygen deprivation hadn’t done it for us already would have taken our breath away. Yaks and the occasional herd of graceful antelope were our only companions.

With no towns, accommodation at night was basic to say the least. No running water, shared rooms and the toilet just a couple of planks to balance on over a pit with an insubstantial shelter around it.

After several days riding, Mount Kailash loomed into sight, a 6714 m peak with religious significance for over a billion people. Some of whom had travelled up here to do a kora (pilgrimage circuit) around it, we were now starting to meet other travellers, many of them Hindu pilgrims from India. These residents from cities as far afield as Bombay and Calcutta were delighted to chat as they shivered from within their layers of Arctic-style clothing. They asked if we were also pilgrims, we answered truthfully that it was a different kind of pilgrimage we were on, one in search of the ultimate riding experience.

Lake Manasarovar also had its pilgrims and a very picturesque monastery overlooking the village. Nearby thermal springs were so hot that yelps were heard from unwary riders as they soothed their aching muscles. We had reached Central Tibet and tarmac was now appearing, speeding up our journey and allowing us to claw back a precious day that we’d lost due to the earthquake near Kashgar. Although we were tired, our spirits picked up as we were nearing the Himalayas’ star attraction, Mount Everest.