DAY EIGHT: A Rescue and a Brush With Culinary Fame

Nepal to Viet Nam

I didn't wake up even once last night, though I shouldn't have been surprised. Mountain climbing--especially climbing in the low-oxygen air above 30,000 ft.--is hard work. It's no wonder that I slept so soundly in my cozy little igloo. Heck, I didn't even notice there was a . . . BLOODY STINKING BLIZZARD HOWLING LIKE A FREIGHT TRAIN OUT THERE!

As soon as I saw that, I sprang into action faster than my gear sprang out of my overloaded pannier. I ran outside, dug The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong's frozen body out of a snow drift, and wrapped my sleeping bag around both of us in an effort to warm him up with my body heat. When I felt his temperature was slightly above freezing, I packed up the sleeping bag, crammed all my stuff back into that undersized pannier, and hooked the bag on to the bike.

The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong refused to move. "Just let me die up here," he said.

"No way, buddy," I replied as I lifted his ice cold frame onto my shoulder. "We're going to get off this mountain one way or another, cuz you ain't heavy, you're my brother." Inside, I chuckled when I realized I unconsciously made up a little poem.

I didn't tell him this, but he actually was kind of heavy.

My shoulder and legs were about to give out from exhaustion after we descended a few thousand feet. Thank goodness, the Reckless Mr. Bing Bong regained some of his functions.

"I think I can make it on my own from here," he bravely proclaimed.

"Okay, if you're sure, I'll put you down. But I'm still not going to hop on your saddle. I'll walk down by your side."

"I'm sure," he said.

"Are you sure you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure I'm sure."

"Are you sure you're sure that you're sure?"

"Yes, dammit, I'm sure I'm sure that I'm sure."

"Okay, but I just want to be sure that you're sure that you're sure about being sure of your sureness."

"Shut the #@(% up about me being sure."

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you . . ."

"JUST STOP!"

"Fine. You don't have to be so rude about it."

************

I've got to give The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong credit; he put forth a great effort. Unfortunately, he took a dreadful fall on the steep Sir Edmund Hilarious Slope.

"Don't worry, I'll come back to get you," I yelled.

Once again, I threw him onto my shoulder and carried him down to the shore of Loch Nasty where I figured I could pound through the ice for fresh water to clean The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong's wounds.

A Nepalese black bear caught the scent of blood oozing from my bike. Amazingly, I fended the killer bear off with a little deception. I faked like I had a cannister of bear spray, and I aimed it at him. He ran away like a whimpering puppy.

It was weird. I haven't read every account of every bike trip in history, but I've read quite a few. I don't ever remember anybody else enduring two bear attacks in the first two weeks of their tours.

Finally, we made it back to the lowlands. The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong regained his senses enough that it was safe to ride him out of Nepal and all the way through most of southeast Asia.

Just my luck, it snowed almost all the way. I really expected to get warmer weather as I pedaled south. Unfortunately for me, a massive winter storm swept into the region. Other than in the mountainous areas, nothing like it had ever been seen before in some of these countries. When I crossed the border into Viet Nam, it was STILL snowing.

There is no need for you to go to Weather.com to verify this incredible weather phenomenon. The following video should be all the proof you need.

************

The kindness of strangers has consistently amazed me throughout this tour. From the hobos in the Montana motel to the Inuits in Alaska to the dude who referred to himself as "Lennon," they've all been so kind and welcoming.

But I think I ran into a level of peaceful human harmony that never seemed possible until today. A Buddhist monk ran out to the road to greet me. He clearly saw how tired I was, and he offered me shelter in his temple. I could not have been more grateful. In fact, if I hadn't invented my own religion of "The Church of the Great Outdoors," I probably would have joined this temple right then and there.

If that wasn't enough, the monk invited me into their dining room for a meal. It was about to be served by their new chef-in-residence--none other than the famous celebrity chef and blogger, CHEF G. I couldn't believe it. He's been an idol of mine for years. Chef G., in my estimation, is lightyears above such celebrity chefs as Rachel Ray, Guy Fieri, Wolfgang Puck, Bobby Flay, Paula Dean, Emirile Legasse, Jacques Pepin, Gordon Ramsay and all those other clowns.

Chef G. prepared a delicious batch of traditional Vietnamese soup called "Pho." Man, that guy can cook and it was a privilege to meet him and to sample his excellent food.

Here is Chef G. Over the years, a lot of people have told me I look a lot like the great Chef G. I appreciate the compliments but, well, I just don't see the resemblance.

Here is the story about how Chef G.'s Pho came to be. Chef G. was kind enough to share this link to his world famous cooking blog.

THE CHEF G. COOKING CHANNEL (chefgcooks.blogspot.com)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	9
Comment on this entry	Comment	1

Rachael AndersonYou out did yourself on this post!
Reply to this comment
1 year ago