Tuesday, April 22, 2025

A Texan in Tibet - Connectivity is Restricted

 "Communication breakdown
  It's always the same
  I'm having a nervous breakdown
  Drive me insane"
- Led Zeppelin

I knew it might be tough getting to this page and I planned accordingly before I departed. But I've been outfoxed (doesn't take much) at nearly every turn by the CCP. There's nothing in this blog that could be considered remotely controversial, but many U.S.-based services (Google, Yahoo, and YouTube in particular) are blocked. Essentially, services from any provider where unauthorized opinions can be shared are forbidden. I've tried multiple VPNs and global relays, some of which I can connect through, but the connection is severed within a minute, with a message in Chinese that I can't read. Included in the (what I assume to be a) warning messages are GPS coordinates that I ignored the first few times until I realized that the coordinates were my position. I've been given ten minutes to write this update, but I can't say how or from whom.

I expect to be back in Kathmandu on the 27th and will update as much as possible before my evening flight on the 28th. Lots of great riding and some good stories to tell.

Itinerary change:  Should be at Base Camp on the 24th or 25th. I assume I'll be squelched from here on out, so follow my GPS tracks if you want to see where I am.

First Glimpse of Everest from the Bike

 

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

A Texan in Tibet - Going Dark?

"Radio silence allows us to disconnect from the world and reconnect with ourselves."
-Anonymous

Today I leave Kathmandu and Nepal to ride to the Tibetan border. This is truly the beginning of an adventure I've dreamed about for years. For all the planning and preparation I've done over the last months since resurrecting this trip, there are still unforeseen roadblocks and red tape that could derail me. The bottom line is I don't know what I don't know, but I'm a quick learner.

Our normally upbeat and joking team (we call ourselves The Sensational Six) was conspicuously demure at dinner last night. We are six individuals who share a dream and have jumped through hoops to realize it, yet each of us are keenly aware that none of us could have accomplished it alone and that one clerical error, misinterpretation of a comment, or mechanical error could derail any one or all of us. We've entrusted the realization of our dream with each other and as such, have built a bond.

Apologies for the demure tone here, but I've built this experience up in my head so much over the years that I'm quietly terrified that it won't measure up. We don't know what we'll face at the border, but we are as prepared as we can be and are all cautiously optimistic about the outcome.

If I go silent for a day or two, rest assured that I will be working to remove the obstacle(s) and get back on the air by any means possible and in that pursuit, I will activate tracking on my Garmin when we roll.

Wish me luck!

A Texan in Tibet - Kathmandu Canines

 “If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die, I want to go where they went.”
- Will Rogers

Dogs. Dogs everywhere here.

I can't take 50 steps around here without walking by, around, or over a dog. And being a dog lover, I have to resist an overwhelming urge to reach down and pet them as I walk by. If I did, I would have to make the first move because all of the dogs here are completely aloof to the chaos happening around them. They don't approach people, are never aggressive, rarely bark, and they rarely even make eye contact. In fact, most of them are sleeping. I wish I could sleep as soundly as Kathmandu dogs do. Oftentimes, I have to step over a dog sleeping in the middle of the busy sidewalk. The locals do the same thing. No one kicks them off the sidewalk or runs them off from their storefronts. The dogs and Kathmandu populations seem to just peacefully coexist.

 

Strangely, all the dogs here are about the same size; roughly the height of the average pit bull in the States. There are no clear cut breeds though. Every one is a mutt...floppy ears, pointy ears, straight tails, curly tails, short hair, long hair, plain coat, spotted coat, long nose, short snout; you name it, it's here. What I found striking is that none of them are mangy or emaciated. Every single one appears to be well-fed and reasonably cared for. 

No one here appears to have dogs as pets, so who is feeding them? When it hit me that they weren't skinny, I started to notice containers of water on the ground near the entrances to many shops along the streets. Now, I have noticed a few with a sore or something that appears to be healing, but their fur is cleanly shaved around the spot. There is clearly more canine/human interaction than one can see from casual strolls up and down the streets and in the temples.

I was walking back to my hotel this morning and saw a German shepherd-like puppy running towards me that Oddly enough, had a bright red collar on, which to me meant he might be someone's pet. I had a good feeling about this one, so I reached down, grabbed his collar, and held him for the two grateful women who, by this time were panting as much as he was. Figuring these two would know, I saw this as an opportunity to inquire about all the dogs I've seen. They were part of an group that volunteers to tackle the seemingly impossible task of feeding and caring for the strays of Kathmandu. One woman explained that this particular dog was on his way to get neutered (hence the red collar) and he somehow broke free and bolted. It occurred to me that these two women were well-known by the local stray population because all the other nearby dogs turned and ran when they saw them.



In stark contrary to that scene, a third woman up the block was being followed by a small group of dogs that were excited to see her and matched her every step. My curiosity was peaked, so I followed. She and her pack turned into a dead end alley whereupon she doffed her backpack and took out a flat cafeteria style tray and a few cans of dog food. The dogs all sat politely and waited for her to straighten up and step beck before they chowed down. By this point, the word was out and another group of dogs had gathered, so she opened a few more cans and fed them too. My heart warmed. She explained that there were volunteer groups all over Kathmandu who do this very thing several times daily. I asked her who paid for the food, to which she replied "I do". I couldn't help myself. I reached for my wallet and handed her $20USD, asking how much dog food it would buy. Her eyes bugged out and she said that $20 would buy enough dog food to feed her usual crowd for two months. I showed her the photos I captured on my phone of the Kathmandu dogs since I've been here and a picture of my dogs at home, thanked her for her efforts, and asked if I could take her picture to which the graciously agreed.


When my riding group was with our local tour guide yesterday, I asked him about all the stray dogs that seemed to be not just tolerated, but reasonably cared for. He explained that it was a duty to them because their faith dictates that even the lowest of creatures deserve compassion. I felt fortunate to get to witness just such a compassionate act firsthand today. While I felt better when I came upon more dogs on the rest of my walk, I couldn't help but wonder if these dogs missed the human companionship that many dogs in the States receive. Perhaps they don't because they've never experienced it; I don't know. I do know that the people in Kathmandu are missing out on unquestionable loyalty and companionship, which is somewhat sad to me.

Below are a few photos of Kathmandu's canine community. Notice how many are comfortably sleeping among the bustling crowds.































This is the only cat I saw during my entire time in Kathmandu


 


Tuesday, April 15, 2025

A Texan in Tibet - Stranger in a Strange Land Part II - Even Stranger

"Not all those who wander are lost"
- J.R.R. Tolkien

The Sensational Six piled into a van hired by our fixer and hit the town. Our guide is a life-long local with a Master's Degree in Nepalese culture. His sincere and sometimes humorous commentary was insightful and added real context to what could otherwise be viewed as just another temple, statue, or building.

Kathmandu is a 2,000 year old city and the birthplace of Buddah. Everywhere you look, there are visual references to the life of Buddha, as well as the various Hindu Gods. Deities in Hinduism are as diverse as its traditions, and a Hindu can choose to be polytheistic, pantheistic, monotheistic, and monistic. They can even be agnostic, atheistic, or humanist. The enormous populations of Hindi and Buddhists appear to coexist peacefully in Kathmandu. It occurred to me that the rest of the world could learn from the Nepalis.

One of the sites we visited was the Pashupatinath Temple, a revered Hindu pilgrimage site where life and death are uniquely intertwined. The temple straddles the "sacred" Bagmati River over which there are several narrow walking bridges traversing the riverbanks. As we approached the river, I noticed an increasing number of visitors and monks wearing masks. Masks are very common here and were long before COVID. The air quality index alarm on my phone is a constant reminder of why. The number of masks worn by people along the riverbanks was strikingly higher than the rest of the temple, and the rest of Kathmandu for that matter. Vendors were even selling masks, but I was sporting my RBF, so they didn't give me a second look.

As our group crested the arch-shaped bridge before us, I had a clear view of both banks. The bank to the left of me was adorned with angled concrete slabs that extended into the river and resembled narrow residential driveways we have in the States. To the right were similarly shaped concrete slabs, but these were parallel with the river; not angled like a driveway. We crossed to the other side of the river and walked to the left to get a clearer view of the activities. Laid out on the driveways were deceased bodies that were covered in what appeared to be white gauze-like sheets. Surrounding each body were family members who took turns uncovering and washing the deceased's feet, hands, and head before tightly wrapping them with a bright orange ceremonial satin-like cover. I opted to not take photos or videos out of respect for the families.


The deceased was then placed on a stretcher made from two bamboo sticks and cloth and carried by family members along the riverbank under the bridge in a solemn procession before being placed atop a wood pile that was precisely-stacked on one of the flat concrete slabs. Prayers were spoken after which the deceased was set ablaze and cremated - in the open air for all to see. After the deceased was reduced to calcium deposits by the fire, the human and wood ashes were unceremoniously swept into the river by an old woman with an even older broom. I witnessed at least three cremations being carried out simultaneously while I stood there, and I was told that these ceremonies are conducted all day long and deep into the night. 

Once the ashes hit the "sacred" river, it was as if all ceremonial respect for the temple was forgotten as the mourners who touched the body casually threw their clothes and cleaning body rags into the water. I scanned the river and was creeped out by the stagnant mush of ashes, clothing, and general garbage that may have been tossed in upstream from the temple. There was very little flow, so the masses of filth and ashes just gathered itself into numerous piles extending upward out of the water. Litter is tossed everywhere Kathmandu with seemingly no regard for ecological impact. There are no trashcans along sidewalks or streets and people casually toss their garbage at will. But I digress.

After the spectacle of what had just transpired before me was over, my mind shifted to the smell and the presence of ashes floating in the air. Suddenly, all the mask wearers made sense and it occurred to me that I could have been unknowingly inhaling dead people for the last hour. Nobody spoke as we departed the temple, heading someplace for lunch. Yeah, lunch. Breaking the silence, I asked our guide about the airborne ashes and he said there had been several studies conducted about the potential health impacts of the open cremation practice. He added that it was determined that the calcified human ashes are far too heavy to get airborne and that the ashes we saw floating (and that we ingested) were only from the burned wood. I decided to allow myself to believe that in hopes that my appetite might return and I could sleep at night. It took two days and three showers to finally shake that smell.

After the human BBQ, we decided it was time for lunch. We had walked several miles and some Momo and a beer sounded pretty good, phantosmia.notwithstanding. Lunch was followed by more sites before returning to the hotel.  I found myself fighting the urge to nap after we returned. At this point, I still haven't fully adjusted to the time zone and have been consistently waking up at 3:00am. Combining lack of sleep, walking for miles, and the altitude here has me  worn out pretty early. I'm getting better though. I slept till 6:00am this morning.