Bad decisions make good stories: Mid-Hill Highway?

July 4, 2025 to July 6, 2025

Overcast weather greeted the morning I was trying to cycle on..

After a day’s rest in Kanyam, recovering from heat exhaustion and the steep climb, I had nine days to reach Kathmandu and spend time with my friend. I longed to take the Madhya Pahaadi Lok Marg—the Mid-Hill Highway to Kathmandu. That was a route with 650 km, 13,000 meters of climbing and loss to Kathmandu. It would need two weeks at best, if no landslides had created road closures. Locals and mountain bikers swore it was contiguous, while Google showed a disconnect up in the mountains.

Time forced my hand, and I rerouted to an “easier” 470 km, with 4,500 meters of elevation gain and loss.

The world's most unique flag and country, I've fallen in love with...

That morning, my body still ached and rain hammered down. Friends in Kanyam said the rain was a bad sign. Still, I packed up, pedaled the wrong way back to Kanyam’s center. Then the sky cracked open—clouds drifted off, blue poured in. A good day, I knew. So I turned my wheels towards Ilam and Kathmandu.

Riding from Kanyam to Fikkal was a pleasure

Past Fikkal, I stopped at a roadside stall for cucumbers and directions. They pointed to a mountain trail just a kilometer away, warned it wasn’t paved. That’s why I ride Motacycle, I laughed.

A stop for organic cucumbers changed my life..

Up I went, happily pushing Motacycle when I couldn't, loving my wandering life. In the beginning I was a bit apprehensive because it was 3pm and it was too late too be going off "main" route. Bad decision?

Mud waited—deep, sticky hilo patches. Villagers, seeing me lost in the bog, called out in English: Take the right side! I grinned, thanked them, pushed through. Another bog waited a few minutes later and more..

I kept counting blessings, rolling along a ridge with ravines on either side, tiny homes perched on this ridge. The sun dipped west and I paused to watch. Ahead lay the plains, wide and hot—miles my legs could eat but my heart dreaded.

This empedrado route reminded me of Colombia..

I wished for a place to stop, someone to ask for a patch of grass. The world answered—a man waved me over like he’d spotted a stray dog. I hesitated—drunk?—but asked if I could pitch my tent on his property?

Folks who invited me into their heaven of a place..

It turned out to be Horizon Bardu Valley Tea Estate. The man spoke to the owner, Buddha Bhushan Tamang, who's a Giant Cycles dealer and a fellow cyclist. He invited me to stay for a few days with him. His ancestral house was a mansion in the hills.

Buddha Bhushan Tamang in front of his ancestral home.

I call myself a lucky son of a gun. I’d ridden only sixteen miles but stopped early, unsure how long I’d stay in that hidden heaven. I stayed three nights, working on a cardamom and coffee farm with his cousin, hiking down thirty minutes, toiling, then climbing back—something they do daily.

View from Buddha’s Tea Estate. The yellow lights are in India; the white ones are in Nepal.

Today's ride: 26 km (16 miles)
Total: 3,120 km (1,938 miles)

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