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While this disaster played out a few miles east, we knew wed be in base camp for days. It would be madness to leave the teahouse. By 3pm the snow was a meter thick, and the local Nepalese couldnt believe their eyes. Because of the loose glacial substrate, the steep scree and the fact that the snow was all new - fluffy and soft, tilicho becomes avalanche central - the weight of snow pushing itself and the rock beneath down into the valleys. A group of European hikers attempted to leave, but 200 meters from base camp they were halted by a small avalanche that sent them running back to level ground. Weirdly, this hiccup probably saved their lives. One backpack was lost but later recovered.
By 9am visibility had dropped to 40/50 meters and we were stuck - all 80 of us, and it was cold. A teahouse is a basic stone barrack with uninsulated rooms and a communal kitchen/eating area. At this altitude galstenen there are no trees, so there is little to burn for warmth. Food is prepared on fires fuelled by burning yak shit, and there isnt niet that much yak shit around either. But the teahouse did afford protection - we were by no means fully exposed.
We had cold weather gear and down sleeping bags, and we spent most of the day wrapped in everything we had. We considered leaving right then and there - back to manang, but its a good thing we didnt. Over at Thorung Pedi, the base camp for the Thorung la pass, a group of hikers were coaxed out of the teahouse by their host, in return for money. He was to guide them back down in return for 1000 Rupees each. As we lay in our bags on tuesday morning, they had lost the trail, became disorientated; hypothermia had set in and some were already dead by midday.
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It was 2pm, and we were ready for the next day - our big one where wed summit to the lake and cross Mesokanto, dropping 3000m down to jomson in one hit. We needed perfect weather, but as it turned out, we werent going to get. By 5pm Monday it was snowing at base camp. Nothing dramatic, just snow - innocent and moody in the dimming evening light. Throughout the night it continued - building in volume and intensity, and by midnight we knew our attempt on the pass was under threat.
Since we had no guide, and no backup, we needed unobstructed views of the landscape and trail above. This was not the well-trodden highway of Thorung la, it was a path, worn a little thin by far fewer feet. Tuesday morning brought a shock. Half a meter of snow shrouded base camp, and it was dumping from the sky. Nowhere at any point on our trip up the Annapurnas did we see any warning for bad weather. Wed stopped at every acap checkpoint, met many policemen and rangers on the way - no information.
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Speed was key, it carried the bike forward when the back wheel washed into the edge of the narrow trail, and hometrainer kept things on the straight and narrow. After 3 hours of riding, we passed a metal sign that said Landslide Area. A little late and a somewhat obvious statement, but this little sign was to serve as a pivotal point in both our trip, and our lives. As we ripped down the last piece of track to the low building of Tilicho base camp, i remember looking up, and noticing that Kangsar Kang, the imposing, black, angry-looking peak, was shrouded in a dense white mist. It was snowing above us, the first blemish in our stunning conditions. Cuan, dean and myself secured the last room at base camp. We were among 80 odd others, but the only cyclists. We drew strange looks both on the incoming trail and in base camp.
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Among them, only revealed in photos, was Matt Adams, a big Canadian on a lone mission on the trail. Our paths would cross in a big way. We had no idea how this trip would change in the coming days. Unlike the masses that plod up towards Thorung la pass at 5400m, we decided, in true vigilante fashion, to tackle a lesser used pass - mesokanto la, which lies a few miles North West, around Tilicho lake, one of the highest tarns on earth. It was looking good for us, no snow up at 5500m, and we were feeling strong. It was Monday, and we left Manang for Tilicho base camp, a rough stone tea house at 4700m above sea level. The pass to tilicho is treacherous. Not just for need of drama, but the last 2/3rds of the way involves traversing steep scree slopes left by glacial deposits - a 45-degree wall eter of loose rock and dust with a one-foot bevel on which to walk, or ride. We could ride most of it, but steep switchbacks involved tiptoeing along rock ledges that plunged 200m into the river valley below.
Dean Burscough, the wiry accountant with a deceptively youthful energy and a cape Epic under his belt, and myself, a documentary cinematographer and director on leave. We were fit, wed done our altitude training and the ride was going well. We were unsupported - no porters and no guides. We entered the manang valley at 3600m above sea level - feeling strong and blasting the single-track reward of pushing up to Ngawal village. The track was firm and dusty, the weather was perfect October - the odd tree starting to turn and the air crisp at this altitude. The scenery was totally breath-taking. The only snow was on the high peaks above 6000m - annapurna iii and iv loomed above. Just before Ngawal we took petersburg a tea stop at Upper Pisang, prayer flags ripping in the wind, with plenty of tourists milling around the gompa.
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I had a sinking feeling that if we tried to sleep under this tree; wed never get up in the kilo morning. Certainly a grave thought, but one that signalled the flip from a bike expedition in Nepal to an unexpected fight for survival in the himalayas most lethal autumn snowstorm in living memory. Wed started the Annapurna circuit by bike three days previously, in crusty besisahar. After a lost bike had set us back a few hours at the airport, wed managed to climb.1 vertical kilometers over the course of 93 kms, and found ourselves approaching Manang - gateway to the high Annapurna passes, or Las as theyre locally known. But as it turned out, that was the easy part. Our party was 3 strong. Cuan Cronje, a tough-nut, ex rock-climber, adventurer and Nepal veteran.