With the mountain bike from Kathmandu (Nepal) via "Friendship"-Highway, over the main Himalayan ridge to Tibet and to Mount Everest Base Camp (5400 m above sea level).
In the morning we're finally off
And off we go. After just 50 meters when crossing our first obstacle, a stream, Thomas' front wheel sinks into a deep hole right up to the head tube. He climbed forwards, one hand torn open, the other crushed. Nonetheless, we all get on our bikes and 45 km lie ahead of us up the valley to the back of the Himalayas. The path winds endlessly up the beautiful valley along the steep mountain flanks, which plunge steeply into the gorge from five thousand meter peaks.
An impressive natural spectacle is the leisurely transition from the subtropical green Nepal side, up to the increasingly barren and alpine Tibetan plateau.
The mighty waterfalls, which initially plunged deep into the gorge from all sides, become increasingly sparse and the vegetation drier. Here and there, a few higher snow-covered peaks can already be seen.
The next day, we continue along the plateau to the Pang la Pass. There are no significant climbs, but we struggle with the headwind and a little with our inner bastard. The roads are endlessly long and anyone who knows such roads knows how the kilometers can drag on.
Now that we have adapted quite well to the altitude, we finally continue on, passing individual mountain villages in a very barren and dry environment, completely different to the one we had just experienced in Nepal.
The mountains are stony, sandy and loamy and there are a variety of different shades of brown in all hues.
This combination of brown, white mountain domes and deep blue sky is really fascinating here, even if the landscape otherwise looks rather barren. Not a tree, not a blade of grass...!
Tingri
We choose Tingri as our next stop to acclimatize. A small village in the Tibetan plateau at 4350m, where people make a living from doing business with travelers passing through. On the roadside they sell lamb dried in the sun, dusty from the passing trucks. Our cook wants to take one of these dried lambs with him as a supply; we decline with thanks and agree: we'd rather eat vegetarian food...
We camp near a village where people live in very simple conditions that are almost unimaginable for us Western Europeans. They have no mechanical aids and work the fields with hand tools and yaks.
The nearest places with electricity or even a telephone are three days' journey away. Despite all this, they make a happy and contented impression.
The first eight-thousanders
On the way, we see our first eight-thousander. I thought the six- and seven-thousanders we'd seen before were huge, but the scale and mightiness of this mountain gave us all the shivers. A white colossus with huge glaciers stands before us, framed by the blue of the sky. We cycle on with renewed vigor. The path is littered with boulders and potholes and is also dotted with short bumps caused by the trucks' drives. We quickly realize the advantages of our suspension forks.
Butter tea
A family invites us for tea and we have the opportunity to see one of the mud houses from the inside. The main room is heated by a stove, which is also used for cooking. The room serves as a kitchen, dining room and bedroom for the whole family. We are served butter tea: Hot water with rancid butter and salt.
I try to choke down the butter tea as quickly as possible, but this turns out to be a bad tactic. The friendly Tibetan host always pours more after every sip. The glass always stays full and the butter tea really isn't a treat.
Pang la Pass
The next morning, it's off towards Pang la Pass, which means the end of the fun and some real pedalling. I and the others still remember the last few days with headaches rather than a nice bike tour. We have to get up to 5150m by bike and as we have no other choice anyway, we start full of energy and perhaps with a little too much power at an altitude of 4100m. 1050 meters of altitude to overcome! Sounds quite harmless really. But at these altitudes it is somehow different. I fill my Camelbak with 3 liters of isotonic drink, attach the strap of my heart rate monitor and set off at a leisurely pace with a heart rate of 120-130 p/m. Although I take my time and keep drinking, the ride is extremely strenuous. After every hairpin bend and every metre of elevation gain, it gets harder and harder and I have to concentrate on every step.
My altimeter slowly spirals upwards and there seems to be no end to it. Bend after bend. From 4800m, I can no longer drink during the ride and have to take more and more short breaks. The thin air is really getting to me. At 5000m, the oxygen content is only 50%.
I keep an eye on my heart rate monitor and see the others struggling with the same problems. Once we reach the top, we are not even rewarded with a panoramic view of the world's largest mountains: for the first time since we have been in Tibet, it is cloudy.
At the foot of Mt Everest
A reward of a different kind, however, is the subsequent ride into the valley of Mt Everest. It turns out to be a classic downhill and we are rewarded for all the effort and exertion of the climb. Even though we are shaken to the core despite the Fully's and Biogrip's.
Very steep with many hairpin bends and rocky passages, the path still leads through scree slopes in the upper section and then winds its way into a beautiful, completely remote valley with small settlements that lie like oases in the barren landscape.
All our eyes are focused on this cloud front in the south, behind which the "mountain of mountains" is hiding. It seems to be constantly appearing, but a new cloud front keeps pushing in front of it. We wait patiently and with anticipation.
Suddenly the clouds lighten. First we can only see the west ridge, then the east ridge.
Only the summit remains obscured. But finally the last wisps of cloud disperse and Mt. Everest stands before us in all its splendor and grandeur, towering, even majestic. We are overwhelmed and can hardly believe our luck.