December 2 – 10, 2016

Nepal. I keep waiting for you to let me down. To betray me. We all have our ups and downs. I’m fully expecting that old Lucy and Charlie Brown football trick. Yet, every day, I fall more in love you and this beautiful country. The people. The smiles. The kindness. And of course the raw, inspiring, (and sometimes unforgiving) landscape. Like a pair of old slippers, at first they were a bit stiff, but the more you wear them, the more comfortable they become. They begin to mold to the contour of your feet and you wonder how you ever got by without them. This has been my Nepal experience. Every day, I get more comfortable here and I wonder why I didn’t arrive sooner.

I had been mostly off the bike for three weeks when I returned from a week on a Thailand beach. This is not a ploy for sympathy, but I was definitely itching to ride. My new friend Laxmi Magar, whom I met at the Kathmandu Mountain Bike Festival, reached out to me and asked if I wanted to ride with her at 630 a.m. the next day. When the #1 ranked female mountain bike racer in Nepal invites you out for a local tour of the valley, is there an answer other than “yes”?  Laxmi has an infectious laugh that makes me laugh just being around her.  She truly cares more about inspiring and promoting female cycling in Nepal than her own achievements or accolades.

On a crisp morning, with the sun cresting the peaks and burning off the morning haze, we met up with 6 local guys from the Trek store and joined them…and the girl was still the fastest one on the dirt. It was a giggle inspired 2 hour tour of foot paths, drainage ditches, and dirt roads that linked several of the surrounding villages together and gave me yet another glimpse into the beauty of this country.

After a few more days in Kathmandu of going to dinner parties and spending time with new friends, I decided I either needed to rent an apartment and continue living this “normal” lifestyle with my old slippers, or I needed to get back on the bike and start moving.

On Friday morning I set out through more local foot paths and arrived in Bhaktapur. Bhaktapur is the largest of the three Newar kingdoms of the Kathmandu Valley, and was the capital of Nepal during the great ‘Malla Kingdom’ until the second half of the 15th century. Today it is the third largest city in the Kathmandu Valley with a population of more than 80,000. Bhaktapur is listed as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO for its rich culture, temples, and wood and clay artworks. The city is also famous for special type of curd (yogurt) called Ju Ju(king) dhau(curd), which is made from buffalo milk. It is the crack of yogurt.

Walking through Bhaktapur is like going back in time. There are millions of bricks that make up all the streets and buildings. Ok, I have no idea how many bricks, but literally, everything here is made of brick. Even the bricks are made of bricks. As a result, it was a place that had been unchanged for nearly 1000 years, save for an earthquake in 2015. Now, there is no overlooking the devastation. The Magnitude 7.8 quake that struck on April 25, damaged 116 heritages in the city. Of them, 67 were completely destroyed while 49 suffered partial damage. It is tragic to see a city that has survived for nearly 1,000 years, change almost in an instant. The spirit, will, and perseverance of the people here is unrelenting and nothing short of inspiring as they battle to rebuild their city.

Saturday is market day in Bhaktapur. All streets in the main square are lined with locals selling beautiful fruits and vegetables and delicious fried things. The ladies are huddled under blankets until the sun comes over the roof tops and hits their spot on the street.

Its easy to get lost in the modern conveniences of a place like Kathmandu that is geared toward western tourists, even though by comparison it is far behind Bangkok with regards to modern. (I did after all see a Lamborghini dealership there.) It is only when I leave a comfortable area like this that I am reminded and transported back to a place that is more real, where people are struggling, just trying to get by. My mind is more open and my senses more aware of life’s hardships. I am once again swimming in perspective and gratitude for all that gifts that I have. It is clear that I am too comfortable in my slippers. Tomorrow, I’m getting back on my bike, going east.