Himalaya 100 Mile Stage Race - Stage 1 Manybejang to Sandahkphu

This was it - the start of my second great adventure in Indialand. I was woken up at 4 by the Half Share who, I have to say, looked a bit worse for wear. Apparently it had taken her until gone midnight to pack my bags for the week's trip - but as I politely pointed out, if she managed her time a bit better she could have had both our bags packed in good time and still managed to grab more than a couple of hours kip. I mean it wasn't as though she had much ironing to do is it?

Anyway we made our way gingerly to the bus - though, it has to be said, not quite as gingerly as my friend from Bracknell who was walking very gingerly indeed. In fact he seemed to be walking the same way and wearing the same pained expression as his new friend Georgio. As we stood there with no sign of dawn breaking, the cool, peaceful mountain air was shattered with the morning greetings from the man from Austria - what a racket. He whispered louder than we all shouted!

After a breakfast in a cardboard box we boarded our buses to take us to the village of Manybejang - and the start of the Himalaya 100 Mile Stage Race. When we arrived the local wigbigs had turned out to greet me and they'd very kindly laid on some musical entertainment which, although I was trying not to be a pre-maradonna, I had to ask them to can it. Frankly it wasn't so much a band as a bunch of locals banging tin cans and I can well understand how the Queen must feel when she visits those backward countries like France and Australia and Canada and has to watch blokes with paint on their faces and spears doing some ancient war dance. To be honest there's no place for it in the modern world - France, I mean.




Anyway, I'm drafting.

I lined up at the start and at 7 am the race got underway to a huge cheer and another bottom noise from my friend from Bracknell and we began the first day's stage. Today was going to be a little difficult. Not only did we have to climb from 6,000 ft to the summit at Sandahkphu - an increase in altitude from 6,000 to 12,000 ft; the distance we'd have to travel was a tad in the region of 24 miles - uphill. Now we're not just talking of any old hill here - it's steeper than Ludley Hill out there.
Within minutes of starting the race and with me comfortably placed to wup the backsides of the field, it was down to a walk. Not quite a stroll but a walk nevertheless. The thin air even at 6,000 ft didn't bode well for the rest of the day but we set about attacking the course with some gusto.

Progress was quite slow as the switchback road varied between steep and bally steep but it wasn't long before we'd made half decent progress and the field became well spread out. I could hear the strained breathing of the Austrian man because he was only 2 miles in front of me and it quickly dawned on me that what was going to win me this race was not a nippy day 1 - but a consistent pace over five days.

That's why I let everybody else stay in front of me.

We passed by lots of nice places on our way up the mountain. The route we were following is the border road between Indialand and Nipall and is guarded by lots of soldier men with guns. I found their presence to be reassuring - especially as there were snakes in the area. The road itself was one built by somebody called the Aga Khan - well he didn't actually build it but his loyal subjects built it for him. He wanted a road built so he could reach the summit at Sandakphu and see four of the five highest mountains in the world. And apparently it took them 16 years to build the road - upon which the bloke said he didn't want to go any more! So he never went up the thing - and some people reckon I'm awkward.
The views as we made our way were quite spectacular with tea plantations, small, humble little mountain settlements and lots of kids who had obviously heard of me. It was such a joy to see them rush to the side of the road and shout my name "Ron" they shouted. "Ron, Ron, faster. Ron". Little cuties, I thought.

As the day progressed the temperatures remained quite warm but as we made our way up towards the summit and as darkness began to set in (yes, I know I set off at 7 o'clock - so what exactly is your point??) it started to get very chilly. More to the point our progress slowed quite considerably as the effort of climbing over such a long distance began to take its toll. It wasn't long before we were in pitch darkness and we were having to make our way up the remaining few hundred yards in pitch black. The muscles in my legs were burning, my lungs were struggling to get enough air and the sheer effort needed to take just a few steps was overwhelming.
Indeed, at around the 18 mile mark I decided to try and set myself distance goals before stopping for a rest. Initially I would try to walk 100 yards or so before stopping for breath but as we climbed ever higher it became impossible to maintain even this slow progress. My target distance dropped down to target numbers of steps - which also decreased considerably until, within just a couple of hundred yards from the finish I was reduced to walking just 10 steps before having to stop. As a result the last kilogram took me well over an hour to complete.

Another hindrance was the road surface which had deteriorated from tarmac through to hard track and then just gave up any attempt at pretending to be a road and merely consisted of loads of rocks laid in a straight line. The locals reckon it was cobbled - but let me tell you this. If the bloke who cobbled this road tried to ply his wares in Accrington he'd have been lynched.

Eventually though I heard the welcome murmur of friendly voices. They sounded excited as they waited in anticipation for the arrival of their hero. And as I turned the last corner there, in my torch light, I picked out their happy cheering faces - all pleased to greet me like the long lost Olympian I nearly was. I threw myself over the line and raised my hand in ... well, whatever the opposite to victory is .. and asked the Half Share to go and put the kettle on.

I'd finished Day 1 of the race in 10 hours 45 minutes - only six or seven hours behind the leaders. But I'd soon make that up through the week! There was time for a quick bit of supper before slumping, exhausted into my little wooden hut. It was so cold and I was so tired - but, hey, I'm an Olympian and it was time to step up to the plate.

Tomorrow would be a stroll in the park compared to today but I could smell victory and I vowed to look for the plate in my rucksack.

Keep on tapering.

Ron