Flight Day 2
In the morning we’re well-rested, and after a small (but expensive) breakfast we wait impatiently at the gate. On the plane we order our tried-and-true in-flight menu (chicken, rice, and a glass of white wine each), and we immediately feel better.
In Kathmandu (KTM) we go through the airport procedures and head to the hotel. We watch the celebrations of the Diwali festival—music blasting everywhere, people dancing and rejoicing.
We’re here after a long time and soaking up the atmosphere again. Dodo after ten years, and me after eleven. KTM feels different. Wider roads, no smog, no rickshaws, but instead lots of noise, cars, and tourists. At least that’s how it seems to us.
At the hotel, we don’t even go to our room—we leave the bikes downstairs at reception and go to the hotel restaurant to meet our friends Michal from Trekfellows and Sonam from the agency. We haven’t seen each other for a long time and there’s a lot to talk about… Luckily, the waiters knew when to close. They could have done it sooner…
Transit Day 1
Breakfast at six was basically a very late dinner, but we’re at the car on time.
Ahead of us are 200 km to the village of Salleri–Phaplu.
After navigating out of KTM, we continue through the Rosi Khola valley. The driver didn’t say a single word the entire trip. At one point he pointed to his mouth and pulled over by some restaurant. We understood.
After our first dal bhat (rice + lentils with vegetables) and getting back in the car, he remained silent even during the two hours we spent standing in a traffic jam. The road moved slowly—most of it had been washed away by the last monsoon, so detours led through the riverbed.
We covered the 200 kilometers in a beautiful thirteen hours, and after dark the young driver stopped in front of a small hotel. He pointed, unloaded our luggage, smiled, and walked toward a celebrating crowd dancing around a small JBL speaker.
We assembled our bikes, prepared our things, and after a while fell asleep to the sound of Indian-Nepali techno music.
Everesting, Day 1 – Phaplu – Bhupsa (Solokhumbu)
A short breakfast (eggs + toast + tea), a silent packing session, and around eight o’clock we’re ready. We both quietly switch on our Garmins.
Respect and anticipation mix in our heads, and so we start pedaling.
Right away we face the climb to Taksindu La, 3,071 m a.s.l. We manage it almost without pushing, euphorically, with occasional encouragement from tourists and Buddhist monks riding by in 4x4s.
Our 2+2 (two wheels and two legs) keep climbing, and sometimes a hand lifts off the bar to wave back. Around us is jungle—hot, humid. We’re drenched, our eyebrows can’t keep up, and water constantly disappears somehow.
The descent of more than 1,500 vertical meters separates the wheat from the chaff. Dodo’s specialized carbon full-suspension smooths out the water-carved road covered with head-sized rocks. I lower my seatpost, but my aluminum hardtail Cube transfers every bump straight into my body.
As one little boy once said: “I don’t break pleceky.” I know that if I don’t crash, we’ll meet somewhere at the bottom.
I enjoy the descent right at the edge of my abilities.
Soon we are together again, and the first swinging bridge over the Dudh Kosi River awaits us. A suspended steel bridge with metal plates under the wheels and mesh instead of railing. Easy for pedestrians.
What we didn’t realize (it didn’t occur to us) was that the metal plates would be covered with condensation. So we hit our top speed on a slippery, swaying bridge because we’re afraid to brake. In the second half the bridge slopes upward and we slow down, but even so, endorphins are spraying from under our helmets.
Riding 30 km/h (not our age) on a 1.5-meter-wide wet bridge—both of us experience it loudly and, above all, in “proper” language.
We planned to have lunch here, but we settle for brown bananas and Coke.
We’re at 1,500 m a.s.l., and only another 800 meters of climbing remain. It goes (walks) slowly. We push the bikes and dusk approaches. Headlamps are ready, but after more than eight hours we reach Bhupsa. No overthinking—the first lodge is ours.
First food and drink. Then check-in, bike hygiene, then ours.
Dodo found a toothbrush somewhere in a ditch, so we both use it—
for cleaning the bikes, of course. The room is small, some insect ran across the blanket, but we don’t care. Hat pulled low (so nothing crawls into our hair or ears), sleeping bag zipped, and good night.
I recap the day. Almost 8.5 hours, 1,950 meters of elevation, average speed 7.0 km/h. “LET’S GO RIDE” is a great idea—but only up to a point…
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Everesting, Day 2 – Bhupsa – Phakding
In the morning we pour tea into ourselves. The forecast promises light rain, so the waterproof layer goes on top. We begin with a climb that smoothly turns into pushing.
We can’t manage sections steeper than 20%. Since I’ve never pushed this much while wearing cycling shoes, I gain some new experiences.
For example, that a small hole in the heel of a sock quickly becomes a big one. I change socks and leave the ruined one to the residents of a small hut. From time to time I feel the plastic cleat covers bending. And it’s only day two. And I already have just 5 pairs of socks left and chewed-up shoes. It is what it is, and I keep going.
The road is wide, just after the first phase of construction and after monsoon season. A skilled digger operator had simply pushed the large rocks into the valley. The small and medium ones are scattered all over the road.
A Mahindra (4x4) zigzags through; we push or carry the bikes. At 2,800 m a.s.l. we see an excavator below the road and it’s clear rock’n’roll will begin soon.
And we’re not wrong—the road immediately narrows to a singletrack with hike-a-bike sections over fallen trees. But after the first bend it’s clear: the road has collapsed into the valley for about 100 meters, and in the middle of a 60° gravel-and-dust chute there’s a piece of rope tied as a “help.”
Several porters manage it, but we don’t want to. After all, they get reincarnated. But us? A kind porter tells us about a trail over the Khari La pass. Half a kilometer back and 200 vertical meters up on an animal path through the jungle. Namaste.
We have no other option—we don’t want to risk descending the chute with bikes on our backs. Even so, the bikes end up on our backs anyway as we wind between trees, wander around, but eventually reach the pass. A short rest and we head down.
No descent—fingers on the brakes as we lower the bikes down steep rock gardens, walking beside them. Coming the other way are caravans of loaded mules and horses. So we avoid them—for obvious reasons. Rock gardens alternate with shit gardens. The bikes are covered up to the chain and wheels, and we’re covered almost up to our knees. Nothing sticks like ruminant poop. “Shit happens,” as Forrest Gump would say.
After 200 meters of “vertical down” we finally rejoin the original road beyond the landslide. I drop the saddle and we roll down. Well, Dodo rolls. I use my “Carpathian skills” and play it safe.
More than a kilometer of descending on an unmarked trail. No way to get lost.
Dodo uses the waiting time to clean his bike in a stream below the village of Surke. He found some cloth somewhere, so we clean. Six hundred more vertical meters await us.
We pedal some, push some, carry some. Stone steps are not our friend. Another short food break—during which a donkey dragged my bike away. My mistake: just because a trail is empty now doesn’t mean it will be in a moment. Luckily, only the handlebars twisted relative to the fork.
Phakding is a nice village, but we care only about food and sleep.
Today nearly 30 km and 1,600 meters up.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 3 – Phakding – Namche Bazaar
We start today straight with stairs. It doesn’t bother us too much, since tomorrow is a rest day. Past the village the stairs end and we make decent progress in the saddle.
Locals take photos with us, and sometimes we let kids sit on the bike.
Short sections we “scooter” along—we can’t be bothered to mount and dismount for just a few meters. We cross several bridges, where we’re always an attraction.
At the gate of Sagarmatha National Park we spend quite some time: various permits and permissions. Luckily, the most important one—the bike permit—we already have.
But on the way to Hillary Bridge we once again carry our bikes on our backs. We even managed to time it so that no one else was on the bridge and people were waiting for us. I think if we’d fallen, they’d have been disappointed not to catch it on camera. But as in mountain climbing: you don’t fall here.
From the bridge to Namche it’s pure porter-style hauling—3 km and 600 vertical meters. Today I chose trekking shoes, so it’s easier. But even so, I feel like in these three days I’ve had the bike on my back more than MVdP does in an entire season.
Today we leave Solu Khumbu. A shower, hair wash, and laundry await us.
Today: 11 km and 1,100 vertical meters. We feel that rest and a day off will help us.
We spend the rest day in Namche acclimatizing on the surrounding hills, doing minor bike maintenance, and checking the route that awaits us tomorrow.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 4 – Namche – Pangboche
Packing has become automatic. It takes a while to weave our way out of Namche, but we quickly get on the bikes. Sometimes we push, sometimes there’s a step or two, but most of our time is spent taking photos. The terrain is gently rolling, and we gradually descend to the Dudh Kosi river.
As always, laughter is followed by pain.
The stairs begin—each different, but all of them high.
We constantly stop because of yak caravans, which at least gives us time to rest. In Tengboche we take a break. The monastery gives the place a magical feel, and the views are spectacular. Ama Dablam accompanies us, watching over us the entire time.
Ahead of us we see Lhotse Shar; naturally, I immediately send a photo to Jaryk in the Yaksteam. We even find the line of the 1984 ascent to the summit.
Plastic parts of my shoe soles continue to fall off, and knowing what awaits us, I strap the shoes to my pack. I can ride and hike in trekking shoes just fine.
After six hours and 1,100 vertical meters we reach Pangboche. After the initial meal and tea, we go for a short walk a few hundred vertical meters above the Pangboche gompa. We’re just under four thousand meters, and acclimatization shouldn’t be underestimated.
In the evening we sit by the stove. Cow dung is the polite word, so here the stove burns yak dung. In the small room upstairs we sleep with the bikes, without a stove, and the temperature drops to five degrees. Our down jackets and hats have already become part of us.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 5 – Pangboche – Thukla
Today awaits us with a full day of climbing in the valley of the Imja Khola river.
We meet plenty of trekkers, and with some of them we even manage to chat in our native language. In Dingboche we evaluate that it would make for too short a day, so we continue onward.
While pushing the bike, my foot slips and I smash my knee spectacularly against the rear quick release. I definitely don’t stay silent, but nobody hears me. And the mountains don’t care.
We cross a high ridge into the valley of the Lobuche river. We’re high above the river (and the main trail). We don’t want to lose elevation, and there’s a rideable path here, so of course we continue.
I listen to Dodo’s local geography lessons, look at the lines on the mountains, and admire the beautiful peaks around us—Taboche, Cholatse, Lobuche… Dodo points out who climbed what and when. We take photos and videos.
Finally, we cross the wide riverbed of the Lobuche river and before long we’re sitting on the terrace of a small lodge in Thukla.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 6 – Thukla – Kala Patthar – Gorak Shep
We start once again by pushing the bikes up to the Thokla Pass (4,830 m). At the pass there is a symbolic cemetery dedicated to Sherpas. I’m there alone for a while. I watch a porter arrive, set down his load, and go pay his respects at the memorials. I quietly observe him, pretending I’m not there. He picks up his load and continues on.
After a moment we move on above the Khumbu Glacier. The most unpleasant part is crossing the Changri Shar glacier, which flows into Khumbu. A slip on the ice would mean a fall into a crevasse—something that wouldn’t end well.
In Gorak Shep we take a break and check in. The room is more like a basement cell—cold, with a small window. We don’t mind; we leave a few things there and head up toward Kala Patthar. First across a small plain, then straight up. We each find our own path, but we both know we’ll be walking this section on the way back too.
Along the way I look for places where it might be possible to descend safely. We leave the bikes about 150 meters below the summit. Up top there are plenty of people waiting for the sunset over Everest. We don’t feel like waiting, so we run down to the bikes and start descending. The terrain is grassy, but full of big, solid tussocks and rocks. I don’t dare let the bike roll freely—my wrists are already feeling it.
Dodo looks like he’s actually enjoying it. In the dusk, pretty chilled, we reach the lodge. A thermos of tea, dinner, and sitting by the stove. We both agree that on the first day of the trip, at 2,200 m, we deflated the tires too much. At this altitude they’re hard as stone, and the air fork is stiff with almost no suspension.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 7 – Gorak Shep – EBC – Pheriche
After breakfast, Dodo borrows an oximeter to measure his blood oxygen saturation. He already complained about a headache yesterday. A value below 70 speaks for itself. quick discussion and we split up. I head toward EBC, Dodo goes down. We agree to meet in Pheriche.
I cross the plain and the suffering on the glacier moraine begins. The trail isn’t always clear; sometimes I spot a trekker here and there. I turn onto the glacier, weaving around glacial ponds. At the familiar rock, I drop my gear. There are five of us, so we take pictures of each other.
Base Camp is empty—no expeditions climb from Nepal in autumn. I walk up a small rise to watch the Khumbu Icefall and part of the route to Camp 1. It looks even more dangerous than people say.
I pack up and head back to Gorak Shep. I sit down for a meal and message Dodo. I cross the moraine again, knowing that from here on I’ll only be going downhill today. No speed, just careful, technical riding.
Technical trail riding isn’t really my specialty, but I’m too lazy to keep getting on and off the bike, so I try to stay on it as long as possible. That backfires when I twist my ankle while stepping off. Luckily not too badly, but my reaction was definitely dramatic. I descend all the way to Thokla Pass. From there I just push the bike. It’s only while walking that I truly feel the ankle.
I don’t see Dodo’s bike anywhere, so I continue.
A few days ago we had looked at this trail from a distance and it seemed fine. It proved harder than we expected. In the shade near the river it’s really cold, so I put on my down jacket. At least Dodo will spot me from afar.
Quite tired, I walk into Pheriche, where Dodo is already waiting for me, delighted. He’s feeling better now, which is obvious. He also enjoyed his descent today. We both have our own little wave of euphoria and shared happiness.
You can view the route on Strava or in video form on Relive.
Day 8 – Pheriche – Namche
The morning is below freezing, with a light dusting of snow everywhere.
Right away a bridge awaits us, but we don’t dare ride across it. It would be slippery even without frost. We wait for the sun’s rays to warm us up a bit. Then comes the descent, which we both enjoy.
Each of us chooses our own line, but we stay within sight of each other. Our skill at overcoming obstacles has visibly improved—but maybe it’s just courage and laziness to stop.
Another climb awaits us to Tengboche. Twice I “ring my bell” on the knee while pushing the bike.
My focus wanes as Namche gets closer. The terrain is no longer as demanding (downhill), so fortunately no falls. We both savor the final gentle descent. It’s cold here too, so a down jacket and hat are essential.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
Day 9 – Namche – Lukla
We thought it would be quick and comfortable. Wrong.
Five days of strain are starting to show. We ride a lot of sections without thinking—no falls, but I was close. Fatigue has set in, and another rest day would have been appropriate. After Hillary Bridge the riding goes quite fast. From there, we just drag ourselves along.
On one of the bridges, at the last moment, I notice a missing metal strip.
My rear wheel falls into the hole. Luckily I wasn’t going fast. I can’t believe that nothing blew, nothing broke, and the derailleur is just above the beam. The change in external pressure worked in our favor. I deflate the tube and carefully remove the wheel. We cross the bridge and reinflate the tire.
Everything works perfectly—I can hardly believe it.
We continue more cautiously; after all, we don’t want to deal with a flat or other problems in the last kilometers. After the final stairs, we pass through the gate into Lukla. We shake hands—we’re at the end. Just the paved streets to the hotel remain. In the evening we disassemble the bikes for transport.
You can view the route on Strava or in video format on Relive.
We fly out a day later. There were some bicycle-related hassles at the airport, but we resolved them on the spot. Although the bikes flew on different planes, everything worked out. At Rameshap airport we arrange transport to Kathmandu—by electric car. About six hours of travel, but we don’t mind.
The bikes are in the vehicle, and we enjoy the scenery. In Kathmandu we spend time with friends and acquaintances, visit landmarks, pack, and of course do some shopping.
A few statistics to wrap up:
We covered 197 km and 9,440 vertical meters. It took us 60 hours and 40 minutes, spread over nine days (+ 1 rest day). We managed it thanks to the support of yaksteam.sk, yakrysy.sk, bajky.sk, and slovkolex.sk.
What to say in conclusion? It was harder than we expected.
No day was easy; each day had its own challenges and its own beauty. We both agreed that we had nothing unnecessary and nothing missing. Of course, the weather was on our side, and accidents or technical issues avoided us. The experiences we gained cannot be downloaded or watched—they must be lived.
Branislav Pastor
Photo credits: Jozef Kopold and Branislav Pastor
