The hut turned out to be a quiet haven for the night and I was not disturbed by mice, men or bears.  I had more porridge for breakfast and was on the road by 10am.  Still unsure of exactly where i was and what lay ahead of me.  I started with some good progress on the sandy gravel road, lost in my own little world surrounded by silence that reverberated around my ears with a high pitch ring.  After a few hours a car passed but did not stop, i was brought out of my slow plodding stupor and reminded myself that i really should stop the next vehicle that came along, just to confirm that i was on the right track.  The road had become increasingly difficult, the patchy ice was now covering the whole road for sections of up to 100m at a time.  It was very much trial and error but I was fortunate enough to find just enough grip on the ice to slowly, and I mean very slowly, push the bike an inch at a time up the hill.  I had just made it across a long stretch when i heard the distant sound of a motorbike engine.  Excited, i waited until the bike had managed to cross the ice and asked the two guys about the road ahead.  A few minutes later they were on their way and I was beaming, grinning from ear to ear.  I was on the right road and although i had not got to the first pass yet they were sure that this was the way to go.

The rest of the day continued in the same fashion, cycle a little, stop, push the bike over an icy section then cycle again.  At times though i could only cycle about 10mtrs before collapsing over the handlebars, gasping for breath; at nearly 4000m the lack of traction on the road and the heavy load on the bike was taking it out of me.  I discovered eventually that if I could control my breathing enough to get about 100m cycling done i could then keep this pace up for a few kms.  It took all my willpower to tell my body not to stop, just keep going and it will get easier soon.  The above combination worked and I made progress but at a agonisingly slow rate. 

Mid afternoon I passed one section of road where some animal prints had been preserved in the frozen ground.  I looked at the prints for a while, one was quite easy to identify, a horse for sure.  The other I was not so sure about, after some deliberation i decided it was either a really big dog, a wolf or a bear.  This was the first real evidence that i had that bears might be here.  It could have been there for ages, and the bear was now tucked away, hibernating for winter, or the bear could have just visited his mate on the other side of the road and had just returned home to Mrs bear and the cubs.  Either way it was not that reassuring and I knew that my difficulty getting to sleep was not going to be eased by this.

About 4pm two motorbikes carrying three people came down the hill.  They pulled over and we all sat down, they confirmed that i was going the right way and started pulling food off their motorbikes.  A big hunk of meat, some flat bread and a bottle of spirit was now in front of me.  They men expertly carved chunks of meat off and then passed the hunk to me.  I was useless at cutting the meat, it seemed to be raw and was difficult to cut.  I passed the meat and the knife back to one of the guys and he started cutting out chunks off meat for me.  It tasted so good.  Then the bottle of sprits was passed around, it certainly gave a kick and I was mindful to not drink too much, given the altitude and overnight temperatures.  The first small bottle was finished and another one was produced from inside a jacket pocket.  I motioned that I could not drink any more or i would fall off my bike.  The guys smiled and opened it up and said just a little.  Thankfully it was just a little but by now I had almost drunk 3/4 of a 52% proof bottle to myself, as only two of us appeared to be drinking.  Our conversation started to dry up after my Chinese was exhausted and it was getting late in the day.  They wished me luck and said goodbye and set off back down the hill.

I tried to cycle but the patchy ice and alcohol were too much, I was now giggling to myself as I pushed up the hill.  This was all a bit silly, getting drunk at altitude on my own, but hey the threat of the bears now seemed like a joke and I was smiling.  After about half and hour of pushing and giggling I decided it was probably time to camp, it would be dark soon and I was unlikely to make it to the top tonight. A small clearing had appeared to the right of the road.  In my mild drunk state it seemed to take ages to push the bike up the grassy verge, find a flat spot and put the tent up, but eventually it was done and dinner was simmering away on the stove.  By 7.30 I was tucked up in bed with a full belly and feeling a lot less giddy, the food had obviously helped.  The thought of the bears crept into my head again but i worked hard to push them out, trying to draw on the remaining drops of alcohol in my blood stream.  I listen to a few episodes of an audio book on the iPod before drifting off to sleep.  It had been frustrating day with only 13km covered, but so long as i could keep my morale up I would make it.

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