The next morning we gradually ascended to the town of Chay in mist and fog. A rounded grassy mountain above us was topped with snow. That was the direction of the day's big obstacle, the pass called Pang La.

Half a dozen children swarmed Joan while she waited with the bikes and I went into the police building to pay the Everest Entry fee (about US$8 each). They inspected our travel permits here so I was glad we had gotten the PSB to include base camp on our list of destinations.

The real climb up Pang La started right at Chay. Also at the same time the relatively nice gravel road turns into a coarse rock road. We started trying to ride it but just 300 meters out of Chay we started pushing the bikes. The road ascended in switchbacks on essentially a pile of rocks that had slid down from the hills above. We didn't see much in the way of dirt that morning.

We occasionally rode one switchback back here or there but mostly just pushed. It didn't take long at that rate for a gang of children to find us. As usual the children just sort of appeared out of nowhere with nothing to do.

Fortunately these were nicer sorts of kids. We acted cautiously friendly. We discouraged them from helping because we didn't want to have company all day long. But it was very hard work and the kids were persistent. They had no Nintendo or even TV urging them home. Eventually Joan let them take off up the hill with her bike. I asked if she was supervising. She said she couldn't even do that.

Some of the kids asked for pens and money but when we didn't cough anything up, they hung around anyway. The oldest kid never asked for anything. When the rest of the kids left, he remained. He ended up pushing Joan's bike (usually from behind with Joan also pushing and steering, but sometimes all by himself) a couple km up the rocks. After that Joan felt like we should give him something for his help even though we had never asked for any. So she gave him one Yuan (about 12 cents). I thought that was a bit extravagant.

We figured after we paid him he would leave, but he didn't. He continued to help. Joan liked the help so we didn't mind. At some point we learned his name was Tenzing Tsirup.

The other kids came and went. When they came back Tenzing yelled things at them, I don't know what. But once he and a little boy were pushing Joan's bike together and it fell over. Tenzing chewed out the little boy in a big way. The smaller boy was crying. Then Tenzing apologized over and over again. He felt very bad about the bike falling over.

We stopped several times to boil water for tea or noodles or just for drinking water. After the first time, Tenzing knew our system. He spoke no English but the next time we started boiling water he fetched the right bottles and equipment at the right time without us asking. His observation, intelligence and diligence impressed me. We wondered if his parent's were mountain guides. Perhaps even Sherpa. A Sherpa named Tenzing climbed Everest with Hillary (but could Tenzing be Sherpa? most Sherpas come from the Nepal side of Everest).

We shared our tea and noodles with Tenzing. He carried a small metal bowl that he ate and drank from. He made his own lunch too. He had a one-liter plastic mineral bottle filled with milk and some flour. He mixed the milk and the flour in the bowl until he had a pasty dough. That, and a bit of our noodles, comprised his lunch. Our lunch was just ramen noodles. For a snack we also shared a Snickers bar with him.

All day long we wondered about Tenzing's gender. He wore earrings and necklaces. We even gave him a necklace (one I bought in Lhasa but Joan hated). His 13-year-old face could have been either. We remained in doubt all day long until we saw him slipped off to take a standing whiz.

The fog had lifted during the day but around 4pm some dark clouds started floating across the pass above us. The temperature dropped and it started to look pretty ugly. A jeep coming from the other direction stopped so the passengers could talk to us. The windshield was wet and they said "bad weather" lay ahead.

We still had 6km to the pass and didn't want to be at the top when the bad weather reached us. Also we were already at 4900m above sea level, slightly higher than we wanted to sleep.

We found a great rock walled corral to camp in. We set everything up leisurely and Tenzing continued to help. We asked where he would sleep that night and he said in Chay, though his family was from the other side of the mountain.

I started walking towards the deepest part of the ravine, figuring I could find a stream there. But Tenzing stopped me and pointed to a place nearby. We walked just about 30 meters and found a spring flowing with wonderful clear water. I would not have found it if Tenzing hadn't showed it to me.

Before dinner we gave Tenzing a few more Yuan and a medallion key chain we got free from China Yunnan Airlines. I thought he might take the hint to take his leave but he stayed around. It wasn't that we wanted rid of him, but we were worried about him getting home before dark and before the rain or snow came.

We shared our dinner with him (macaroni and cream corn with milk) and talked to him a little using the phrase book. I spent quite awhile trying to teach him out to play my French Horn, which he mostly just sang into. Finally, well after six o'clock, he said his good-byes and left. He didn't walk directly north back towards Chay but disappeared around a hill to the east. We thought he said he would come back in the morning, though we never saw him again.

The bad weather never came down to where we were. In the late evening we sat on a mossy mountain side and looked across at snow-capped peaks and clouds that looked like flying saucers. The clouds and the white tops of the mountains were the last thing lit by the sun.

Next: The Mad Trans-Tibetan Cyclist

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