We broke camp at first light, expecting to be quickly discovered by curious locals. But they never showed. Just as we started loading the bikes we discovered Joan had a flat tire. That initiated and hour-long bike repair session in the middle of the sandy flats.

Then we rode just a few km before stopping at a rock out cropping near a stream for breakfast (muesli w/ hot milk). We washed our clothes and our hair in the stream (first bathing of any kind in a week, and last bathing of any kind for another week). I used the pan to scoop up water and pour it over my head. By the time I finished rinsing, my head was numb. Literally. I didn't know that could happen. I ran around with my hands on my head yelling, "My head's numb! My head's numb!"

That first 3km was the best of the day. After that things went downhill. Actually they went uphill. Continuously. The road was very rocky and the tire pump wasn't working very well so Joan's rear tire didn't feel as hard as usual. She said it felt like every rock banged the rim.

This road was cruel in a different way than most. It looked easy because the grade was shallow but all day long the it got steeper and rockier but only just gradually. To make us feel worse, Andy had said it would be very easy and he'd actually ridden it. We felt constantly frustrated that we couldn't go faster. We crept up the road. The bikes felt like they were made of lead. It was one of the only times we were irritable with each other all day long. And it was a long day. We walked much of the last 10km.

In the end we had climbed 850m (2,800ft) to an elevation of 4900m (16,000ft). So we had had no need to be discouraged about our pace. We had done the equivalent of climbing a pass but it started so gradually we didn't think of it as a pass.

We stopped at a monastery called Rongbuk, about 8km short of Everest Base Camp. We thought we would just stop for a meal then continue but a couple factors changed our minds. First heavy clouds came in and it got cold and second, the food was good. Which is important when your stove is acting iffy, like ours was.

Rongbuk is reportedly the highest monastery in the world. It's kind of a compound of several buildings located on a sloped shelf at the base of a craggy cliff on one side and falling steeply into a ravine on the other side. The buildings are typical Tibetan construction - simple rectangular structures made of brick or rock and mud, painted white with black trim around the deep windows. Most of the buildings were one or two stories high.

We concerned ourselves with the simplest of all the buildings: the kitchen and outhouse. Like most Tibetan kitchen/restaurants they liked it dark. It just had a couple windows, one with some stuff piled in front of it. A couple jeeps were parked out front so we worried the place might be full. By the time our eyes adjusted to the dim light and distinguished the clutter of pots and pans from the furniture, we could see two benches along the far wall and one bench along the near wall. Low tables sat in front of them. A couple other tourists and some Tibetans sat at the benches.

The stove was right in the middle of the room with a stove pipe sticking out the center of the ceiling - very sensible for a cold place. Everything the cook did we saw and he made the most of his "stage" amongst his customers. He could flip pancakes way in the air and always caught them perfectly.

The cook was an unusual guy. He was probably about 30, rotund especially for a Tibetan, and had a long ponytail. He looked like an overweight, out of style, aging hippie, though he probably doesn't know what a hippie is. He sang a lot while he worked. He seemed to like cooking and it showed in the food. We had great fried veggies with rice and later excellent chapati omelets. Some of the best food in Tibet.

I couldn't tell if he liked tourists. Joan described him as a "born smart-ass, but generally friendly." When we asked for something he never forgot, even if he was in the middle of someone else's order. But he wouldn't smile and so "okay" or anything to confirm he heard and understood us. Other times he joked around in his minimal English. "looky-looky" he said about the tourists coming to see Everest. Then he sang a song with the lyrics "looky-looky."

We paid one day with a 100 Yuan note. Even though a meal for two could run 45 Yuan (US$5.50), it could be hard to break 100's. He tried hard to get us to pay exact change but we simply didn't have it. Then he didn't want our 100 Yuan note because it had a very small tear in it (we got the 100 straight from the bank). Then he brought the change but didn't want to give it all to us because we had given him "bad money." Finally he did give us all the change but then he asked if we had a pen to give him!

We camped that night in a yak pasture next to the monastery. A couple times it sounded like the yaks were grazing perilously close. Late at nights some dogs fought loudly just outside. In the morning we discovered one had slept partly under the fly on the lee side of the tent.

There's suppose to be a great view of Everest from Rongbuk, but we never saw it.

Next: Tibet Chapter 16 - Everest Base Camp

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