INTO THE ANNAPURNA
A STORM surge, whipped up in The Bay of Bengal a week earlier, empties its deadly contents on the Himalayan region in central Nepal. When Cyclone Hudud had done its work, 40 people hiking over Thorung La Pass, one of the world’s highest, will never go home again.
Exactly one month later, I’m pushing a bike and a backpack full of camera gear over the same pass. Still heavily packed with snow and ice, it’s hard work. Really hard work. Too hard, in fact. I can easily see how such a tragedy unfolded up here in this thin, frigid air.
On November 15, I leave the tea house at Thorung Phedi. I could have spent the night 500m higher but fearing altitude sickness I stay lower and decide to push over the whole lot in one hit. This is a strategy employed by many.
I rise at 4.30am. There’s not much to pack as I’m wearing everything I’ve got. It’s minus seven degrees C and conditions are un-perfectly perfect, as they should be this time of year. A quick breakfast of pancakes and jam, and my head torch becomes one of many in a snaking dot-to-dot that is my route up this cliff.
The trail is steep; actually too steep to be taking a bike with packs over it. I’m a determined bugger who has learned to suffer, though. I know I can push through hurt but something tells me this is going to be a long day…
Escaping the city
Eight days earlier, I loaded my bike into the back of a cab in Pokhara, Nepal’s second biggest city, bound for Besi Shahar, the trailhead for my around-Annapurna adventure. It’s
