From steep hike-a-bikes to snowy passes, the race has unlimited challenges.
The 10-day stage race crosses remote paths through the world’s tallest mountains
By Sonya Looney
The Himalaya are the mightiest mountains in the world and last year I had the opportunity to go to Nepal, home of Mount Everest, to compete in the highest mountain bike race on the planet, the Yak Attack. The 10-day stage race spans Nepal’s Annapurna region, a vast remote area in the silhouette of peaks that stand more than 22,000 feet high. It was the most amazing experience I’ve had in my life.
By finishing the race I became the first woman to complete the full route on a mountain bike. But it wasn’t easy. There were challenges and setbacks. At first, I felt out of my element, bewildered like a deer caught in headlights, and struggled up many of the three-hour-long hike-a-bike sections, including one over Thorong La Pass, which reaches 17, 769 feet high. There were mechanicals, too. After one crippling malfunction, I had to walk 10 miles to the finish down a path that would have been a ripping 9,000-vertical-foot descent had I been able to ride. And the elevation slowly starts to kill you—there’s a reason few people live at these heights.
But I’m going back. I’m sitting on a plane, traveling alone to the other side of the world. Last year I was nervous, and my goal was simply to finish the race. This year, I have loftier expectations. I want to best my time last year by a wide margin, and I’m hoping to finish in less than 30 hours. I’m more confident now and I’m looking forward to the adventure. I know what to expect.
The seemingly endless climbs are made bearable by the stunning views.
There will still be challenges, however. I’m dreading the cold. The villages we’ll pass through are not accessible by car. During one stage last year we passed sherpas who carried boxes of Snickers and sheets of corrugated metal to the next town. Some wore only sandals on their feet. Along the route we’ll stay in primitive tea houses with limited access to electricity and running water. The only source of heat is the kitchen oven. We’ll poop in holes, the infamous squat toilet. Our race bags can be filled to a maximum of 20 pounds, which includes cycling shoes, sleeping bags, clothing and nutrition products. To save weight, we will wear dirty chamois and shower with baby wipes.
The race starts March 2 in Kathmandu, a sweltering, chaotic, colorful, smoggy city. The crazy thing is, you can’t see the mountains from town. But 40 of us will ride into the hills. It’s a test of tenacity as much as endurance. I know I will experience emotions that I can’t put into words. I know I’m strong enough to finish, I just hope I’m fortunate enough to avoid mechanicals or illness. With no follow cars, even abandoning the race is difficult. Riders must either backtrack to the stage’s start village, or, if they’re lucky, catch a ride on the back of a passing yak. Last year, that’s how one of my teammates finished the race. If all goes well, I’ll descend from the mountains on March 12 with great stories and a fresh perspective. Maybe even a new record.
For regular race updates, go to facebook.com/yakattack or facebook.com/looneysonya
One of the best aspects of mountain bike racing is experiencing new cultures.