Looking east I’m not sure this is my best idea ever – what I’d thought were big fluffy clouds are the mountains I’ll be riding through! Yak Attack is the highest mountain bike race in the world, ten days of riding, climbing and scrambling over jeep trails, snowy passes, rocks and boulders, past sweeping forest with the odd bit of ice to focus you. Total distance 350 km, total climb around 10,000m.
Leaving Kathmandu, I pace myself up the first massive hill – until a child of ten pedals past me! Time to dig in! The next few hours are a mixture of sweat stinging my eyes and legs crying for relief.
Into the mountains... the climbs are undulating, the bike and I are flowing, suspension is smooth. Snap! Bang! With boulders on one side and 2000m drop the other, a wooden house appears on the corner, I head in the entrance and judder to a halt. My sub-frame has snapped. I’m gutted. I gaffer tape it and walk 19km to the checkpoint. That evening the race organiser sorts me a bike so I’m still in the race.
Looking across the valley next day, we see guys pushing, dragging and carrying their bikes up the hills. With the ground wet and icy in parts, the day pans out to a walking/ climbing stage, the Páramo kit excelling at keeping the chill off as I put on my windproof and slog on.
I learn not to cross the horrendously dodgy swing bridges if a donkey train is coming. It’s great as you fly across but once the bridge dips in the middle it’s an epic to ride up the other side – with donkeys and yaks trying to push you off. Carrying cargo, they stop for nothing.
Day 6 we’re in the serious arena at 3500+m. Riding is lovely – amazing views of mountains and valleys, it’s as if no-one else has ever been there. Our water bottles start to freeze but I’m still in shorts, just opting for my Fuera Smock and Torres Gilet when we stop.
But as the route snakes up and the sun creeps behind the mountains, it becomes a real struggle. I know the dangers of altitude but push on and eventually finish Day 8 at 4500m – and within a few minutes I’m warm in my Torres Gilet.
0300 on Day 9. Hell, it’s cold and dark! I can’t even see the start. A voice mumbles “Start now”, but no-one tries to ride. Some carry their bikes while others, like me, push, trying to get circulation back to the extremities. But finally, wow, the summit – made it, the highest I’ve ever been by foot and tyre.
Descent time – run, ride, slide and fall. I lose count of how often I fall off. I expected damage to the clothing and pack but they stood up well to the abuse. Descending 1500m, the weather turns tropical again. My Cambia Short Sleeve Ts were worn daily, coming into their own in these hot and humid lower valley sections. Dust ingrains itself in all clothing but the secret to these baselayers is that they’re washed with a quick dip in a water tank, aired and ready for the next day – hey presto!
Avoid the wall! Smack! That’s how my descent starts on Day 10, only 300m in. My back, shoulder, neck and wrist hurt but I’m ok to carry on. Steep downhills, rivers to cross and villages to fly through. And then, the finish of the Yak Attack is in sight. We speed towards the banner and the guys having beers.
Yak Attack is an adventure ride through every type of environment, taking its toll on rider, bike and equipment. Thanks Páramo for your help and support throughout the planning and the race. The clothing excelled, not once through the whole race did I feel sweaty or clammy. I was one of the very few lucky enough not to carry surplus equipment as the layering is so effective. Oh and yes, I’d do it again!
Andy Foers
