Kora around Kathmandu...almost

Last week Save the Children organized a charity bike ride called the Kathmandu Kora Cycling Challenge to raise money for much needed birth centers in Nepal. The coordinators made it sound incredibly intriguing in their invitation: "In Buddhism and Hinduism a ‘Kora’ is a circumbulation, done clockwise, usually around a religious structure. It is said that a single Kora around Mt. Kailash in Tibet for example is enough for one lifetime. Kathmandu, with its myriad religious structures, is a perfect location to do a circumbulation. It boasts two of the most revered Buddhist Stupas of Boudhha & Swoyambhu, and one of the top eight temples for Hindus worldwide, Pashupatinath." In other words, they were going to ride 50 kilometers around the city and see some amazing sights. Sounded like a brutal but memorable adventure and all for a good cause. So I signed up.

I'm not really a mountain biker. Or any other type of biker. Since coming to Kathmandu, however, I've been hitting the valley hills with some extreme cyclists. Because of the lack of green space, infrastructure, and clean air in the city, we all look for ways to get out of the pollution and in to nature. The surrounding green valley, with its hilly terrain and endless trails, fits the bill and is perfect for mountain biking. But, in case you were unaware of this fact, mountain biking is difficult. Especially for a skinny legged rock climber. Turns out mountain biking doesn't require much in the way of forearm or finger strength. In order to enhance what little leg strength I have, I decided to invest in clipless shoes and pedals. For the uninitiated these "clipless" shoes, counterintuitively, connect you to your pedals, which is great for power, speed, and oneness with the bike. It is decidedly not great when you need to put a foot on the ground, which in rocky terrain is a lot. At least for an inexperienced rider like me. Consequently, I fall over frequently. I'm sure this is funny for my fellow riders or the constantly gawking local residents. It's even kind of funny for me if I'm just coming to a stop for a chat, rest, or water. Though it's decidedly not funny when I'm flying down hill, or trying to power through a rough patch. With that foreshadowing...back to the Kora ride.

An estimated 300 riders participated in the event. We gathered in Patan Durbar Square, the ancient seat of power for one of the valley's three former kingdoms and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. After some uncoordinated coordination, we were off like a glacier. Apparently 300+ bikes don't move quickly through narrow back alleys and single track mountain trails. For a novice like me, this was actually fine, at least for a bit. The ride in the southern valley was beautiful. The slow pace allowed for sightseeing and conversation. The group occasionally stopped to get the massive pack back together again. But then, about 1 hour in, a deep mud puddle caused by the on-going monsoon buried my front tire. Unable to quickly extricate my foot thanks to my very clipped-in clipless shoes, I fell hard, right onto a degraded and rusty barbed wire fence beside the trail. Fortunately, I like scars, because this should be a good one.

After a thorough iodine irrigation and some slap dash bandaging, which one friend accurately described as looking like a used diaper, we were off again. The rest of the ride was decent, but not quite as fun as I'd hoped. There was a lot of stopping for bottle necks due to sheer numbers. And, unsurprisingly, with no course markers, large groups inevitably got separated and lost. We did manage to find Swayambunath, aka The Monkey Temple. Not every bike ride passes by a giant golden Buddha. So I've got that going for me, which is nice. Another few hours later, I was done. And by done, I don't mean 'completed the ride.' I mean, wiped out. Fried. Kaput. After more than four hours of riding, and the realization that we were only half way around the city, it was time for this injured, cramping, pinkening redhead to make for home. Still, all in all I managed to ride exactly half way around the Kathmandu valley, about 25 kilometers. I'm pretty proud that I had made it that far. And I'm happy to report that once I decided to call it a day, on the short 10 minute road-ride home, I made it without a single spill.

A buddy in front of Buddha at "the Monkey Temple"

One of several stops to reunite the long line of bikers