The journey to Shigar is supposedly almost as long as the first day’s drive, some 5 or 6 hours. The drive starts off from Shigatse in a normal sort of way; open brown plains with large hills rising out of the valleys. These plains are populated by yaks or the bastard yaks which are half cow and half yak. Our traveler lest this scenery slip by without too much attention. Soon, almost without noticing it, the traveler climbs up and over the very gentle Tso-La pass (14,850 ft.) which does not offer any particularly exciting views.Dropping back into another valley full of farmland, small villages, and yaks (there are also of course a few Tibetans) the scenery once more slips by with liquid speed.He next comes to a marker with a giant “5000” written on it. Apparently this sign proclaims the traveler’s distance from
kilometers. This somewhat odd, since the poor village around the sign doesn’t seem to be particularly aware of the importance of its location. Indeed, living under the shadow of a ruined dzong and monastery, these people seem to be much more aware of the power this sign has over travelers. Although it is a guess, the traveler figures that a goodly portion of the village’s economy revolves around this mysterious black sign (written in languages they do not understand and referring to impossible places). But the sign does not hold our traveler for long, and he is quickly on the road again.They next come to the much higher Tropu-La pass (16,335 ft.) which despite its height lacks any particularly beautiful vistas. Our traveler is disappointed to learn that he cannot yet see the mountain he came to see. Dropping down again through brown hills and brown plains, the cars traveling along the long, straight highway leave clouds of dust behind them as they move along—small dots in the large landscape.
In what seems only a matter of minutes, but what must have been much more, the traveler finds the car climbing again, this time to the steepest and highest pass before Shigar, Gyatso-La (17,226 ft.). As they go up, it begins to snow lightly and the scenery takes on a particularly ominous feel. The ground turns black with light brown and gray stones and boulders studding it as far as the eye can see. The land is desolate, nothing is growing and there are very, very few yaks—less people. At the pass itself a small group of darkly tanned Tibetans beg for food from the cars which stop, knocking on the windows and pointing at whatever exposed food there might be in the car. With the falling snow and the chill wind, the traveler wonders how desperate these people are to be waiting for passing cars in this desolate pass. To judge by the rewards of their begging, it is not an un-lucrative job.
Our traveler had hoped that there would be some views of the great mountains in this area, but heavy clouds sock in the pass and the traveler can see nothing of note. They continue on, descending now, but never so much as they have ascended and are in Shigar by 2 in the afternoon. Shigar is a mostly dead town, with one large street and stupendously ugly buildings ringed by lackluster brown hills. In this dismal environment, our traveler finds himself in a serious argument with deeply important consequences. It being only midday, the group wishes to continue on, but the big question is where to. It would be possible to continue on and make it in to Rongbuk Monastery (A Monastery at the base of Everest) before night, or as some of our traveler's companions wish to do, head further towards Nepal along the highway to Tingri. While the views of Cho-Oyu (one of the world's tallest mountains) are beautiful from this city, it is not the same in our traveler's mind as Everest. Not at all the same. After a discussion which lasts some thirty minutes perhaps, in which our traveler sees some of his worst fears begin to materialize (weaker members of the group chickening out), he finally prevails over cowardice and fear and the group heads off for Rongbuk Monastery and Mount Everest.
