Today my guide took me into the Shivapuri–Nagarjun National Park — the northern green wall of the Kathmandu Valley.
A restricted military zone, now also a national park… soldiers, checkpoints, and military structures are still part of it.
We left through Kathmandu’s morning traffic madness.
Cars squeezing from both sides, motos passing by so close you could almost put a hand on someone’s shoulder and start a Greek Zorba.
No lanes — just collective intuition: go wherever there’s space, don’t touch anyone. Horns don’t mean “move aside”; but “keep moving, don’t change direction.”
You’re so focused you hear only this sound, until you stop — suddenly the heat, the smells, and the city noise hits you.
The first ramp of the climb was violent: gradients hitting 15% or more, the kind where my legs are in shock and scream to walk. Later the slope became gentler — still with nasty sections, but also flat where heart slows just enough to gather courage for the next punch.
The silence. After
#Kathmandu, the forest felt unreal: almost fresh air, humid, birds echoing, leaves moving.
The kind of quiet that doesn’t mean “nothing happens,” but “everything is alive". No wonder, this area protects the main water source for Kathmandu.
The semi asphalt road ended, the last houses were below us, we passed the turist check point and entered the forest trail — the kind of
#MTB path that feels made for bikes rather than hikers.
Oak, pine, rhododendron, bamboo tunnels, rocks, a couple of waterfalls.
Almost no one around. Just us and the forest with Kathmandu valley below.
All good rides end too soon.
We dropped into an aspalth road, trees opened, we followed a narrow street — houses on both sides, people sitting on low stools cooking or chatting, kids staring, a couple of dogs sprinting after us just to keep things "interesting".
Then back into the Kathmandu stream, navigating its chaos like a pro, and finally a dal bhat to bring my legs back to life for tomorrow.
#NepalCycling
Monika Twarogowska
