About the first half of the ride from Gyantse to Shigatse the Everest cyclist wrote, "I hate this road." About the second half he wrote, "I still hate this road!"

We'll add, "This road is hell!"

What's to hate about 90km of absolutely flat road in Tibet? Mainly two things: soft gravel and obnoxious children. These kids behaved worse than just about any others we ran across in Tibet.

The first 30km or so the kids weren't so bad, so we thought the Everest cyclist overstated. Several kids came out to block our way, but we managed to pass by untouched. We headed straight towards them and looked unconcerned, as if we didn't really notice they were there so they jumped aside. Sometimes we slowed down and looked them in the eye then sprinted past. The kids wouldn't do anything to you while you looked them in the eye. When you pass them and can't see them they try their stunts.

Then at lunch the bad luck started, but not with children problems. The stove started misbehaving instead. I was just barely able to boil enough water for ramen noodles. I had to keep pumping the stove or it would go out. I figured the Chinese gas was clogging the fuel line somehow. We both were really bummed. We did not want to do this ride without a stove. I felt pretty certain we could fix it in Shigatse but it was one more nagging thing to worry about that makes Tibet so hard.

One km later we stopped to filter some water. Joan walked down to the river with the pump while I watched the bikes. [Joan: As I pumped I thought about how my Shiatsu massage group had given us the gift certificate to buy the pump, and that I should email them a note to say how 18 months later it was still working great. Then, just as I was topping off the last bottle, the pump broke. I felt like crying.]

A local came by to stare at me and the bikes. I looked down at Joan and she gave me the finger across the throat sign. I wasn't sure what she meant, but she was upset. I went down to see what it was. The pump didn't work at all. It seems like such a simple device I couldn't understand what went wrong. But it didn't work.

We got back on the road feeling really bad. No filter or stove. And we hadn't even reached Shigatse, Day one in Ben's Notes. Kathmandu was still a long, long way off. We had that sense that fate had it in for us. What would break next?

The Everest Cyclist managed without a stove by riding long days and staying in villages. We could have done it like that but didn't want to. We preferred to travel at our own rate and camp privately, staying in villages only now and then. We didn't want to do the ride at all if it had to be villages every night.

The road, bad before, got even worse. The gravel was just too soft. We couldn't get going. We trudged. Ben's Notes referred to a later road as a "sand-covered nightmare" and a "bit soul destroying." Even though he had never been on this stretch, his words kept entering our thoughts.

Then the kids. They kept charging us. We yelled them off. As we went past I turned my head to maintain eye contact as long as possible. That discouraged most of them from throwing rocks or chasing us. Then around 70km out, we saw a bunch of boys on the side of the road. They stooped to pick up rocks. Premeditation.

Nothing happened as we passed except yelling and hands held out to take whatever it was they expected from us. Then just after we passed, a rock whizzed past me. It was a serious throw.

[Joan: I heard Eric yell, "DON'T THROW ROCKS!" and then a big one hit me in the butt. I was furious. I dumped my bike and picked up rocks and threw them after the kids, who ran back the way we had come. Eric yelled at me not to throw rocks but I was lost in a rage. I chased after them and caught up with a two year old who had given up running. He faced me. I ran up, held him by the shoulders and said, "WHY?!! WHY?!!!" He fell apart and cried in total fear. He had snot all over his nose. I realized I was talking to a tot who didn't speak English and was probably just hanging out with the other kids. I calmed my voice and he calmed too, but I was still asking why. Then he got upset and I realized I was terrifying him so I let him run after his buddies. Eric wanted me to calm down. I looked down the road and took two steps after the staring kids and they ran. Then I thought how pissed I was and picked up my bike and rode after them. Eric tried to stop me, saying I'd already punished them. I was beyond reason. I rode after them. I didn't notice when four hid in the bushes. I kept chasing the ones who didn't hide.]

ERIC again: I've rarely seen Joan in such a rage. When she jumped on her bike I thought she was ready to continue our ride. Instead she turned around and chased them. I worried that she might actually hurt some kid then we'd be in real trouble.

[Joan: I chased them one km across a hayfield to their village. Of course I couldn't keep up with them so I walked. I knew they were going to the village. I arrived and a toothless old lady greeted me. I mimed, "where are the brats?" and the smiled and shook her head. She didn't know where. I mimed that they stoned me and I gave her stones from my pocket. She clucked her tongue. I was pissed. I looked around a corner to see if they were there. A younger woman yelled - I bet she just wanted me to leave. A little girl pointed into the village, indicating their escape route.

I figured the best I could do was let the elders know what the brats were up to. So I pointed to the little old lady and then mimed that she should spank the little ones. Who knows if they will be punished? Hopefully the village will realize I didn't sprint a kilometer across a field unprovoked.]

Eric again: Joan disappeared for a long time. I couldn't go anywhere without leaving both bikes alone so I waited and waited, no kids around anymore. I was really getting worried that something bad had happened. If we did anything that could be construed as hurting a kid, I figured we might get lynched. Tibetans don't get much respect from Chinese police so they probably take justice into their own hands. I was very happy to see Joan return unescorted by an angry mob.

I asked her what happened. She said she had set one of the little bastards on fire and pushed two others off a cliff - and I believed her! (Joan: of course I was totally kidding. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. I spent most of the rest of the ride fantasizing about catching the biggest kid and hanging him upside down from a tree with a note in Tibetan about what a little rot he is. I was so mad.]

Eric again: To make sure we didn't have any more trouble, I spent the rest of the ride disarming kids. I got ahead of Joan and when I saw kids along the road I cycled up to them very slowly gave them a very mean, threatening look. I looked straight through them, inspecting them like one inspects livestock or something. I looked them in the eye for malevolence and in the hands for rocks. Of course as I did this they yelled and grabbed and begged.

Joan's technique was simple. When we got near children she screamed, "BACK OFF!!" and they were terrified.

This worked rather well. We had no more rock throwing incidents.

Tibet can beat you in a lot of ways. When the kid problems slacked off a bit, it was probably as a result of the mean, New Zealand-strength winds and light rain. Joan drafted behind me for several slow and difficult kilometers. We occasionally found ourselves in the middle of small dust storms.

Finally the road made a slight turn north and we went around a hill then suddenly the wind was behind us! For the last 10km the rain got heavier and the winds got lighter.

Next: Cyclist Circus in Shigatse

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