Greetings from Pokhara, Nepal where both Jamie and Garryck are continuing our adventure sports fix. Before we get into the newsletter, WHO DO YOU KNOW IN INDIA? We’ll be in India from November to at least January from North to South. We’d love to visit any friends and family you have and share the love…Thanks!

Every year gobs of tourist make the epic journey from Lhasa, Tibet to Kathmandu Nepal. The way that they do it is varied, the majority doing it with their faces hidden behind doctor's masks, handkerchiefs or bandanas in dust filled Land Cruisers that they booked in Lhasa. But more and more people, for varied personal or political reasons, are unwilling to pay for the permit and be limited by Chinese tour guides thus opting for independent travel with alternative methods. Some people opt to don hiking boot and a pack and walk the near 1000 km, and others try to take local transport, which can entail either hitching rides with locals or attempting to take local buses. In most circumstances local drivers are unwilling to take foreigners out of fear of loosing their license if they are caught. The stories abound about the creative ways people get to the border. A popular one is of a Japanese tourist who shaved his head and bought orange robes to disguise himself as a Buddhist monk, and took local buses the whole way. Another equally amusing and unverified story is of the tourist who bought a horse and rode it to the border. There were also plenty of people who freely offered up advice on how to get around checkpoints. One guy we met, who had obviously watched far too many Vietnam war movies, told us that we should get ourselves a pair of binoculars and some sleeping to feed to the dogs so they wouldn't wake the guards when we passed through the checkpoints in the dead of the night. He went on to further discredit himself when he told us the checkpoints were made from bamboo - bamboo of all things. The ways around buying a permit are only limited by one's imagination.

For us, two Americans, Jamie Bianchini and myself, Garryck Hampton, the Peace Pedalers (www.peacepedalers.com), and an Australian, Jane Hopcraft, a past guest rider on the back of Jamie's tandem and now out on her bike, we chose to do it on bicycles. Not only would we do it on bicycles, but also Jamie would be riding a tandem bicycle (with 2 seats for two riders) to pick up new Tibetan and Nepalese friends we meet along the 1,000 KM journey. Both Jamie and Garryck ride a tandem bike, and have done so since Japan, Korea, China and now Tibet and have taken dozens of guest riders from around the world riding with a unique mission to spread peace and love between cultures via a tandem bike.

Originally we tried to play it by the book and were promised by the travel agent in Kunming, China that we would be given individual travel permits upon reaching Lhasa. But, as we suspected, we were merely given a three day permit that was only valid for Lhasa city. In Lhasa we did our best to get the required permit, but in the end we were forced to ride permitless out of Lhasa at dawn, before the checkpoint at the edge of town became manned.

We timed out tour perfectly for glorious weather! The monsoons were over and only a few white puffy clouds drifted about in the high deep blue skies. Fall was coming to the region around Lhasa, the air was crisp and clean, and the trees that lined both sides of the road, nourished by the river that it paralleled, were golden yellow.

The first day out of Lhasa is an easy one as the road is nearly flat. For cyclist who fly directly from their countries to Lhasa, it makes for a nice warm-up day to get them used to cycling at high altitude. For us, having spent nearly two months going over 4,000 and 5,000 meters passes in the northwestern Sichuan province of China. It was a pleasant cruise filled with a river-side picnic and a couple of Tibetan farmers who hoped on Jamie's bike for a lift down the road. It was always great to see the sparkle of appreciation in the guest rider's eyes when they experience riding with a strange American in their little villages. The Tibetans are far more open and adventurous than the Chinese so this day we picked up 3 riders. Picking up a guest is as simple as slowing down, smiling big, and pointing at the seat and the road ahead. Some folks deny the offer, but today we picked up a short chubby lady heading to another village with a bag of barley, an old man taking a walk somewhere, and a long ride with a strong teenager whose smile was bigger than any we’ve seen in a while going several villages down the road. Not only do we experience Tibet in all it’s glory, but we get to experience the people and allow them to meet some genuinely friendly Americans. Each person who rides on the bike with us is lifted to a new level of openness and appreciation for foreigners and tourists. It’s an unforgettable site!

We knew the second day was going to be a rough one as we would be crossing the 4794 Khamba pass from a starting elevation of approximately 3,500 meters, so we rode to the base of the pass, roughly 20 KM further than where the map suggested to camp.

As we packed up in the morning we watched as a chain of Land Cruisers passed. We returned their waves, thankful that the roles were not reversed. After stopping in a village just up from our campsite for water, we began our slow climb up to the pass. For about 5KM Jamie found a few young Tibetans with huge smiles on their faces cranking away on the pedals with all their might waving to their friends in the villages. The road wound its way skyward, the exact location of the summit unclear, and we kept on pedaling. The hours ticked by and we kept on climbing. The only real break we took was a short one about two-thirds of the way up the mountain for a lunch of rice snacks and peanuts. Reaching the pass was well worth the effort. We had a clear view of Mt. Jangsang Thamo and the shimmering crystal blue waters of the lake below. Adding to the optical ecstasy were the Tibetans who had decorated their shaggy yaks in colorful traditional festive saddles. For a few Chinese yuan, depending on one's bargaining skills, tourists could sit on one and have their picture taken. We chose to save our money and just stood next to them with our bikes. The only visible habitation was a small building a few kilometers down from the pass. We stopped in there for a meal and decided, due to the time and lack of motivation to ride further to stay the night. While we waited for dinner we sat around and blissfully watched time pass and the unreal sunset over the first sights of the famous Himalayas. After dinner we returned outside, but not for long, with the sun down the temperature had dropped significantly at 4700 meters, to watch the sky fill with millions of stars and a nearly full moon rise up over the mountains.

The climb had taken longer than we had thought, so we woke up early, at five o'clock, to make up some ground. We took a quick descent to the lake where the road skirted around its edge. Aside from the blaring horns from the Land Cruisers and their ensuing clouds of dust, it was a very peaceful and enjoyable ride. That is, until I felt a wobble coming from the back of my bike and realized upon inspection that my rear rack had broken. We all looked at each other with the same questioning look of disappointment. Only three days out of Lhasa and it looked as if my ride was over and I was going to have to try and hitch a ride. But luckily I had some copper wire with me that I used to wire, under the ever watchful and curious eye of a Tibetan guy who had been walking down the road trying to hitch a ride, the two pieces together to create "Franken-Rack". We were unsure if the repair was going to endure the bouncing around from the rocky road, so we slowed down the pace.

In Nakartse, having been told to stay out of towns, we took a risk and grabbed some dinner. It was Jane's birthday that day, and being unable to find a bakery as we rode out of town, we settled on a box of moon pies and Dove chocolate. We made our camp off the road in a harvested barley field in a wide valley. While Jane got ready for bed, Jamie and I put a big white candle that we just happened for some odd reason to have with us in one of the moon pies and sang her "Happy Birthday" under a full moon that completely lit up the white, snowy peaks that surrounded us in almost every direction.

Headwinds and rough roads kept our pace down the next day, but we were spurned on by spectacular scenery, like none any of us had ever seen. As we climbed towards the 5015 meter Karo pass, the surrounding 6000 plus meter peaks didn't look so difficult to reach - they were only some 1,500 to 2000 meters higher - but the nearer we got to the pass, and the thinner the air got, and the more we had to push to keep our bikes going. We realized that it was the increase in elevation from sea level, not the increase in elevation from where we were, that made them so foreboding.

The next morning, as we were packing up our camp and watching farmers head off to their fields in horse drawn wagons, a small group of cyclist who were part of a totally catered tour came rolling into our camp. They had camped a couple of kilometers up the road from us. The three of us were envious, seeing them with their full suspension bikes and no baggage, but at the same time, we were proud of ourselves for being self-sufficient.

As we rode along we stopped alongside anyone who looked like they might need or would want a lift. The young were easy, and jumped at the opportunity, laughing throughout the entire ride. More often than not, offering a ride to one child meant giving rides to all the children in the immediate area. That often slowed us down, but the smiles on the children’s faces and those of the parents watching us, were worth the slower pace. Older people often took a bit of prodding before they'd hop on, but after they were in the saddle and got the hang of having their pedals connected to Jamie's, they were nothing but huge smiles of appreciation.

Gyantse was our first major town since we left Lhasa. We had heard rumors that there was a checkpoint there so we kept our eyes scanning the road up ahead as we neared the town. We didn't see any signs of any checkpoint, and the police seemed totally unconcerned with our presence there. Even so, we played it safe and had dinner in a restaurant that wasn't on the main street entering town - having our fully loaded bikes parked outside would have been a dead giveaway. After our meal we stocked up on snacks and made camp on a dirt road outside of town next to the river. The road didn't appear to have any traffic on it at that time of day, but, to be safe, we put our tents as close to the edge of the road as we could and made sure the reflector strips on or Sierra Designs tents would be visible to passing vehicles.

The road from Gyantse to Shingatse was a total blessing, freshly paved and nearly flat the whole way. Our backsides needed the break from the rough bumpy dirt roads. Our enjoyment was furthered by the lack of traffic and a slight tailwind that helped us keep an average cruising speed of 27 kilometers per hour. We enjoyed every moment as we sailed along the beautiful countryside watching the Tibetan farmers, men, women, and children, working out in their fields along with their cows and yaks. We made numerous stops to take photos and offer rides.

The same rumor of checkpoints we heard about Gyanste was echoed about Shingatse, so as we neared the city we turned off on a dirt road that paralleled the main road and took it into the city. We had an older edition of the Tibet Lonely Planet guide book, and all of the hotels that it recommended were closed, but after a couple of laps around the city we found some reasonably priced accommodations at the Muslim Hotel, which from the outside looked more like a low-class brothel, but had clean spacious rooms inside.

The Shingatse PSB, the Chinese government organization in charge of issuing permits, was, according to guide books, more hospitable and would grant individual travel permits. It was true, they would issue them, but at a cost of 200 yuan (roughly twenty-five U.S. dollars), 140 of which went to the travel agent in town who would do little more than give the piece of paper that needed to be taken to the PSB for a stamp. Seeing that we had technically already paid for one in Kunming, we opted not to dish out the cash for another one. We did manage to liberate a blank one from the travel agent's desk, and thought about filling it our ourselves, but seeing that we are the Peace Pedalers, it probably wouldn't have looked too good to be caught with it. Our conviction not to buy a permit was strengthened when we met up with two Germans cyclists who had cycled nearly the entire length of Tibet without any permit, and had no plans to buy one to get them the last few hundred kilometers to the border.

The high passes and cold nights caught up with Jane in Shingatse in the form of a cold. We spent two days there to let her heal, but it was deep in her lungs, so we made plans to meet her in Latse, two days down the road - she would attempt to catch a bus or hitch a ride with the locals.

Unfortunately for her, she missed two great days of touring, and a spectacularly beautiful camping spot. We made our camp 81 KM from Shigatse, in a nice flat green pasture separated from a wide rocky river bed, with only a few channels of water running through it, by a piled stone fence. Mountains of ascending height rose on all sides. Before we could make camp we patiently waited for the sheep and goat herders to drive their flocks through the pasture and back to town for the night. We were rewarded that night by a sunset that filled the sky with every hue of red, yellow and orange. As the sky darkened and the day turned into night, Jamie and I looked at each other, and without words our smiles told our shared feelings: we were truly blessed, we were living our dream of using tandem bicycles to meet and share our lives with millions of people while experiencing and seeing some of the world's most spectacular places.

We met up with Jane in Latse, and decided to take a rest day there. Latse had little to offer a traveler, but the Tibetan Farmer's Hotel had a very laid back atmosphere, hot showers - sort of, a friendly cow we named Betsy in the back courtyard, two lounge areas, a super friendly staff, and six yuan carafes of Tibetan sweet tea that Jamie and I couldn't drink enough of.

On the second day we met up with four other cyclists we had met in Lhasa. Jeff, Keyna, and Craig were from Australia, and Katerina was from Alaska - and rightfully proud of it. They had hired a truck to follow them with their gear, and had been kind enough to carry the extra parts of my tandem, part of which was in the U.S. being repaired.

They had run into the same problem we had and were not given the promised permit in Lhasa, but had somehow managed to forge one. It was confirmed by some other tourist who had come from Kathmandu that there was indeed a checkpoint six kilometers out of town, so Jamie, Jane and I woke up very early and headed out of town under the night. The stars were out in full, and we didn't really need our headlamps, but, being in the lead, I kept mine on to spot out any large potholes. We hadn't picked up any sleeping pills, and the dogs barked, but no lights came on as we passed the checkpoint.

Jeff was the first to catch up with us. The Lakpa pass was grueling. Not only did it climb 1200 meters in eighteen kilometers, but the road was very corrugated and rocky, it was cold, and we had a seriously MEAN headwind the whole way. About halfway up the Aussie-Alsaka truck, named Betty Blue because of its color, came rolling up to where we had stopped for a snack. We were greeted by Katerina's big smile, who had gotten in the truck near the bottom of the pass. Jane still wasn't feeling totally up to par so she hopped in the truck as well. Jamie and I began a strategy of taking a break at every kilometer marker. As we rode, each kilometer seemed to stretch in length. Jeff caught up to us and passed us with eight kilometers to go. For a man in his forties, though he didn't look his age, he could move. The headwind was demoralizing. Near the top the altitude was bad enough at over 5,000 meters, robbing our body of strength, but the headwind pushing against our heavy panniers made every pedal stroke a gargantuan effort. But one pedal stroke at a time we made it to the 5150 or so meter mark and the views were indescribable.

Usually a pass meant an effortless cruise down the other side, but the powerful headwind made it so we had to pedal to go downhill. Being unloaded the Aussie-Alaska group was able make better time, and left us to battle the wind. We caught up to them in a field where they had made camp. They all burst into laughter when we rolled in. Our faces were completely covered in gray dust that had been kicked up by all the passing Land Cruisers. Only the area blocked by our sunglasses was clean.

That night, sleeping at about 4,800 meters, the weather was well below freezing. The three Aussies decided to sleep under the stars. In the morning they were covered in a thick layer of frost. We all eagerly awaited the sun to bring warmth into our camp and dry out the tents and sleeping bags. With the ability to just toss everything into the back of their truck they got off before us.

Twenty kilometers down from where we made camp we got our first glimpse of the queen of all mountains, Mt. Everest. It was a long way off, but still impressive, it's white glimmering surface towering up into a rich blue sky. We had cycled a long way to see it, and were not disappointed with its grandeur. Just before reaching it, Jamie picked up a friendly Tibetan guest rider who spoke no English but pointed out the mountains of Everest, Lhotse and more in Tibetan. He rode several kilometers and both riders were smiling ear to ear on the perfect sunny day with the Himalayas in clear view.

When we reached the gate to enter the Everest National Park there wasn't anyone in the office. We waited for a few minutes for someone to come, but it was getting very late in the day, so we walked our bikes around the gate and rode on. A third of the way up the pass we caught sight of the big truck Betty Blue. Karma was once again with us, and when we asked the Aussie-Alaska riders if we could pay to put all our panniers in their truck for the rest of the road up to Mt. Everest base camp they agreed to let us join on for no charge. All we had to do was pay the driver 30 bucks each for the extra hassle of more bags and we could ride with them all the way to the border of Nepal!

It was great to have more people to ride with. Not only ride, but ride without our the weight of all our gear allowing us to enjoy the high altitude touring we had ahead to Everest Base Camp. Craig got up the Pang La summit first at 5,150 meters as I hung back with Katerina and proudly witnessed and cheered as she pedaled over her first pass (Pang La, at 5150 meters above sea level) of the trip, she had gotten in the truck on the previous two.

Just a short way down the road on the other side we met up with Keyna at the truck. Jamie, with his bike, and Jane had already started hiking up to a short peak to take some photos. Katerina and I followed. After the pictures were taken we had a wild ride down to the road, and even a wilder 1000 plus meter descent down a twisty road with fabulous views of Everest in the background. Being unloaded and having our knobby tires back on, Jamie's and my first reaction was to bomb down, but the allure of the Himalayas kept our eyes dancing from the road to the mountains, and back to the road.

When we made camp that night, four of the dirtiest kids that any of us had ever laid our eyes on came wandering into our camp. Their faces and closes looked as if they had wallowed in a pile of gray dust. Of course, Jamie had to give them rides.

The next day we reached Rongbuk, eight kilometers from base camp, where there is a monastery and a hotel. We all eagerly gobbled down big bowls of either vegetable or yak meat and veggie noodles. As we were finishing our meal a large group of Dutch riders came rolling in. A few of them joined us for our ride to base camp.

Base camp, at 5,200 meters, which was little more than a parking lot with a few large tents set up for tourists to spend the night in, and a bathroom, was a disappointment for most, but the view of Mt. Everest was breathtaking. We all took turns passing around cameras and taking shots, the preferred picture was of the rider holding their bike high above their head in triumph with Everest as the backdrop. Craig, his heritage being Scottish, pulled out a bottle of fine scotch that we all took a nip or two from.

There was only one place for dinner, and it quickly became packed. The menu was basic, either fried rice or noodles, but nobody cared. We had all came great distances and were exceedingly fortunate to have perfectly clear skies that day. Everyone there beamed, sharing the in the excitement. Beer bottles and cans opened in succession, and small bottles of cheap Chinese brandy made their way from table to table. The room was electric of people from varied countries shared their feelings and thoughts on the great mountain and the day. For us, and the rest of the cyclist, there was a special bond since we all had made it under our own power to the base of the largest mountain in the world!

The next morning, though it was a rest day, we all woke early to watch the sun rise. It was glorious to watch the sun's rays slowly make their way down the flanks of the mountain. The rest of the day was spent washing clothes and our bodies, and soaking up the view.

We, the Dutch and our group, decided to take a different way back to the Friendship Highway. The map showed that there was a dirt road, and a few tourists who had hiked in to base camp on the road confirmed that we could ride it and the trucks could make it was well. Dave, another American, who had hitched a ride in Betty Blue, ended up jumping on the back of Jamie's bike after we had to pile the bikes in the back of the trucks in order to forge a major river 20 km. down from Rongbuk. It was the right choice. The views along the road were of the grandest scale, everyone made frequent stops to take photos. We still had to go over one pass, but the ride down the other side to Tingri was a mountain biker's dream. We had a slight tailwind that ushered us along twisty singletrack with astounding views of the surrounding mountains the whole way. Halfway to Tingri the singletrack let us out into a wide valley. By that time it was early evening and everything glowed in the soft golden-yellow light. None of us were in a rush to get to Tingri, we were enjoying the moment, the shared jubilation, the perfect ride.

Tingri, at 4340 meters, would be considered a high city, but for us, having spent two nights at 5,200 meters, it seemed low, and the increase in oxygen allowed us to catch up on sleep - most of us had tossed and turned throughout the previous two nights and hadn't sleep well.

Ten kilometers outside of Tingri was a hotspring that we stopped at. Like the guide books reported, the pools had films of slime on them, so none was eager to get in, and we all decided to keep on riding. It was a long day in the saddle, but an enjoyable one. The road had a few rolls to it, but it was mostly flat as it made it way down the valley that was littered with ruins, some more preserved that others. The ruins were yet another depressing reminder of the Chinese destruction of just about all Tibet stood for in the 1950’s.

That night we filled all the rooms of a small guest house. The owner and his wife were exceedingly happy to have us. She served up some fantastic soup, and terrific sweet tea. The night was climaxed when Jamie pulled out his PDA and small speakers, and put on Golden Earing's song, "Radar Love". Little did we know it was a Dutch band. Every member of the Dutch group began to groove and sing, and a few jammed away on air guitars.

The next day was a double pass. The first one, Lalung La was 5015 meters, and the second, Thang La, was at 5170 meters, with a drop of 500 or so meters between them. It was when we came over the first pass that we realized why Tibet is often described as "the roof of the world". On every side, the barren land spread out to meet gigantic white peaks that jutted skyward. Thank La was our last 5,000 meter pass, and we rightfully took our time at the top to take in the views and enjoy of feelings of success and victory; we had all worked hard and put out tremendous effort to reach that point.

The map that we were all using described it as "the longest descent in the world", and it started out steep, but momentum was soon slowed to a snails pace as the road flattened out and the headwinds became insanely strong. From there it was every man and woman for him or herself. We became a long strungout line of single riders and small groups. It wasn't till the final ten kilometer descent into Nyalam that we all, except Craig, regrouped. For some, like myself, who had been out front and were waiting, the trucks and the rest of the riders came along just in time. The black clouds that we had seen in the distance from the top of the pass had quickly rolled in, and it was starting to snow. It was a fast charge to Nyalam where we quickly found a hotel and warmed our hands and insides with multiple cups of coffee and tea.

We got our decent the next day. There was still snow on the ground from the day before, but sun was out and there were only a few white puffy clouds floating about. Riders leap-frogged each other on their way down, everyone going at different speeds and stopping at different points to take photos. It was a descent of over 2,000 meters by the time we reached the Friendship Bridge, the border between Tibet and Nepal. We had started in snow and rock, passed though pine trees, and reached a rich lush green tropical wonderland. The contrast was difficult to grasp.

At the border we bid or Dutch friends farewell. It had been a real pleasure to meet and ride with them. Jamie and I look forward to catching up with them a few years down the road when we reach Europe. The rest of us made our way to The Last Resort. It is called The Last Resort because it is the last of it's kind on the road north to Tibet. Beautifully landscaped in a very lush green tropical setting, the multi-colored flowers add contrast to the gray rock and dark stained wood framed tiki style buildings that are set apart on various terraces. It is gotten to by crossing a long suspension bridge that spans a gorge with a drop of 160 meters to the bottom where the river rushes white with water that is fed by numerous waterfalls that cascade down from both sides. For a traveler coming from Tibet, like us, it is paradise, offering tranquility and luxuries like massage, hot showers, a sauna and plunge pool, and delectable gourmet meals and drinks that can be enjoyed at various outdoor tables, or in the beautiful decor of the restaurant/bar that has both regular tables and chairs and low tables and cushions set at different levels. Also, for the more adventurous inclined, most likely those travelers who are heading north or only visiting Nepal, those who haven't exhausted themselves crossing 4,000 and 5,000 meters passes for the past couple of weeks on bikes or endured the long dusty days inside a Landcruiser, the resort offers one of the highest bungy jumps in the world (from the suspension bridge), kayaking, canyoning, rafting, and rock climbing. It has all the great features of a high-end resort at a very reasonable prices. The staff is also very courteous and happy to help or offer a friendly smile.

Jeff, Craig and Keyna left the next morning, and Katerina the day after them. It was sad to see them leave, we had shared some epic times together, but like the Dutch, we're sure we'll be seeing and riding with them again. On the second day, we were very happy to meet up again with a Canadian, Kathy, who we had previously met at Everest base camp. The four of us hung out together, enjoying the luxury of doling very little. Jamie and I did eventually rally to send adrenaline rushing though our bodies as we plunged 525 feet off the bridge on the bungy. The experience was electrifying, our bodies tingled for hours after the jump. Jane and Kathy left a day before Jamie and I. David, the super outgoing Kiwi owner, arrived that day and easily talked us into spending another day.

We made the right choice by staying one more day, later in the day the clouds rolled in and it started to rain. The sun was out the day we left, and Nicholas, the canyoning guide, decided to catch a ride with Jamie down to Kathmandu. We now had an Argentinean guest rider to share this amazing cycling experience on a perfect day!

It felt great to be back on the road, and it was such a pleasure to be riding at lower elevations where there is plenty of oxygen and beautiful views of terraced rice paddies, and waterfalls cascading down the densely vegetated mountains on all sides.

We rolled into Kathmandu as it was getting dark, and immediately ran into Jane and Kathy who were having tea with some other travelers. After Jamie and I got hotel rooms, we all met up and headed to the Everest Steak House, where, for about four dollars each, we savored every bite of perfectly cooked steaks, and every sip of red wine. We toasted to long distances traveled, good friends and good food.

We made it to Kathmandu, and we didn't need no stinkin' permits. From here we'll continue to enjoy the Nepalese hospitality, offering rides to all as we make our way west, and on to India.

Here in Nepal we now have the luxury of many folks that speak English. So already we have taken an overnight guest rider with Jamie from Katmandu towards Pokhara and many others. Not only do we get to ride with folks now, but we can get to know them. I’m sure Nepal and India will offer amazing stories to come!

So as of today now Garryck is trekking the Annapernas Himalayas and Jamie is doing a 4 day kayak course down the Seti river tomorrow. Yeah, we know, life is tough for us folks pedaling for peace, but we need a break from that once in a while too ?

Stay tuned…more to come ?

Remember, WHO DO YOU KNOW IN INDIA?