PATH OF PRAYERS
The flag-littered flanks of a Tibetan holy mountain hide one of the world's most incredible trails
We embark on an unforgettable journey across the flag-littered flanks of a Tibetan holy mountain, on one of the world’s most incredible trails
The pilgrims’ path around the foot of Khawa Karpo, one of the eight holy mountains of Tibet, is considered one of the most impressive natural trails on earth. No one could tell us if it was accessible by bike, so we embarked on an unforgettable journey to find out.
< LEAVING SHANGRI LA
Our adventure began in Shangri-La – not the mythical valley, but a town in China’s Yunnan province, renamed to lure tourists. We were joined by three members of the Liteville Enduro Team China – Kevin (a German expat),Terryn and Arsenal.A night in the tourist town of Feilaisi helped us acclimatise to the thin mountain air. After stocking up on food in the narrow alleyways of Deqin, we were all set.
< MY PRINT IS MY BOND
Across the Tibetan border, our luggage was loaded onto horses for the seven-day journey along the eastern part of the Kora path. We signed for the animals – not with a pen and signature, but an ink pad and fingerprints – and set off, not knowing what to expect. Or whether our driver would be there on the far side to pick us up.
SURREAL SINGLETRACK >
At 3,200m the gravel road ended.We gave high-fives, stepped into our pedals and dived into another world. The path wound its way down into the forest through a tunnel of colourful prayer flags. Thousands lined the rollercoaster singletrack, making it feel like rushing through a box of paints! If it continued like this, our trip was going to be a lot of fun...
< UPWARDLY MOBILE
After a night around the campfire, the climb began. Flags lined the rocky path and, halfway up, several painted Buddhas were carved into the rock. For Tibetans, the mountain that’s holy for them is a physical manifestation of the spirit of Buddha, and circling it is a ritualistic act that they hope will bring them closer to him.
PUSHING ON >
The next day, breathing became hard and our speed reduced as we approached 4,000m. We were still below the forest line, whereas in the Alps the only things at this altitude are snow and ice. As we got closer to the highest point of our trip – Dhokha La, at 4,500m – the steepness of the pass meant riding was out of the question. Our group pulled apart a little and we each continued at our own pace.
< CARPET OF COLOUR
Garlands and prayer flags began to show us the way far before the highest rise. As we neared the top, we couldn’t see the floor any more because it was covered in so many‘wind horses’– the Tibetan name for the flags. Dragging ourselves across this slippery carpet of colourful cloth, breathing heavily, we finally reached the highest point of our pilgrimage. But our celebrations were cut short by rumbling and black clouds – time to move on.
FOLLOW THE ZIGZAG LINE >
Far below, we could see a green meadow with a creek. A challenging trail led down to it. With over 100 switchbacks, it demanded our full concentration and gnawed at our strength. By the time we reached the bottom, the thunderstorm had passed and the sun was shining. We lay on the grass, exhausted but happy.
< MAKING CAMP
Our journey continued, beside roaring streams and down zigzag descents. The path was hardpacked and fast in places, muddy and rocky elsewhere. Evening accommodation varied, from rundown pilgrims’ barracks – with plastic tarps to keep the rain off and wooden pallets to sleep on – to tents and, on day five, a room in a roadside house. We hadn’t seen a building for days and had only met 20 or so people on the path. Just as many were hustling about in the small dwelling. Outside were decorated motorbikes used to transport goods – and tired pilgrims – over the final pass. This gave us hope of a ridable path.
R ET U R N TO C I V I L I SAT I O N >
After a tough 1,000m of climbing – most of it pushing our bikes, because the track was too steep to ride without a motor – we reached the final pass. We were relieved – it was all downhill from here. The landscape changed completely. It was bone-dry and hot, and dense forest was replaced by sparse pines. As for the trail, it was just as fun as on the first day and brought tired smiles to our faces. Our final day was another highlight, as we swooped down from the mountains, leaving a trail of dust behind us, to the village of Abicun and our waiting driver. Three hours later, we were sat in a restaurant, toasting the success of our trip. The contemplative hush of previous evenings was replaced by a different type of silence as we all stared at our phones. Suddenly, the forced abstinence from home comforts of the previous seven days seemed appealing.