Shen Kun rode solo from Lhasa to Lijiang
At 1.85 meters tall and 150 pounds, Shen Kun, a young man from Nanjing Medical University, has a fair and gentle appearance—far from wild—but he harbors a “wild” passion: high-intensity outdoor activities. Mountain biking, backpacking, and wild camping are all among his favorites.
Though low-key in character, his “achievements” are startlingly impressive: since his first long-distance trip in 2008 when he biked from Nanjing to Xi'an, he and his “Merida Duke” mountain bike have covered over 10,000 kilometers, including three rides of more than 1,500 kilometers. His cycling routes stretch from Lianyungang in the east to Lhasa in the west, from the capital Beijing in the north to Hainan Island in the south. He has ranked in the top five in the individual category of the Nanjing Longwangshan Nanda Cycling Invitational three times and was the champion of the 8-hour endurance race relay (university division) hosted by Nanjing Giant.
Shen Kun once pedaled 463 kilometers non-stop in a single day; he’s biked 243 kilometers in one day at an altitude of over 4,000 meters, conquered the 5,010-meter-high Mila Mountain in Tibet, and survived a nerve-wracking 60-kilometer downhill from the Baima Snow Mountain in Deqen, Yunnan. Last July, after half a month of trekking in Medog, Tibet, Shen Kun set off from Lhasa along the Sichuan-Tibet Highway, cycling 1,800 kilometers all the way to Lijiang.
The Most Crushing: Just Kilometers from the 5,000-Meter Summit
Over 10,000 kilometers, Shen Kun pedaled his bicycle, measuring every kilometer of national highways, provincial roads, and mountain passes... He never gave up—except for that short stretch during his reverse ride along the Sichuan-Tibet route. That was when he was just a few kilometers away from the 5,000.10-meter-high Mila Mountain peak in Songduo Township, Tibet. Around 4 or 5 PM, utterly exhausted, Shen Kun had biked 150 kilometers that day at high altitude, carrying over 10 kilograms of luggage. His physical reserves were drained, and he was cold, hungry, thirsty, and tired. The area was desolate, and despair set in.
“Cycling requires good stamina, especially for climbing and managing your breathing and rest rhythm. When climbing, maintain a steady pace and breathe deeply and slowly. You can take a 5–10 minute break every 5 kilometers,” Shen Kun told reporters. “That day, I wanted to push on, but my legs just wouldn’t cooperate. My breathing became extremely labored, and stopping too often to rest and drink water eventually did me in.” Even with his strong will, Shen Kun could only gaze at the summit in resignation. Looking around, the over 5,000-meter-high mountain was deserted. He had no choice but to flag down a passing Tibetan truck with a pitiful wave and descend to a halfway lodge.
Shen Kun has ridden through muddy roads, waded through sludge, climbed snow mountains, and once biked for three hours in the rain. He’s stayed in cheap hostels, squatted over makeshift toilets made of wooden planks, and dried his soaked clothes and shoes by the campfire. He’s endured a week without a shower and tolerated the scorching sun while biking. Due to rain riding, he also developed knee strain, which flares up whenever it rains.
The Most Terrifying: Running Through a 20-Square-Kilometer Leech-Infested Zone
Trekking through the Medog region of Tibet, one must pass through a 20–40-square-kilometer expanse of virgin forest, half of which is densely populated with blood-sucking land leeches. These engorged leeches can be as thick as a little finger. “Every leaf on the trees is teeming with leeches. One end clings to the leaf, while the other sucks in the air. The moment they touch any part of your body, backpack, or gear, they latch on immediately,” Shen Kun described the scene, which even horrified the reporter.
“In this 20-kilometer stretch, my teammates and I had to move quickly. You can’t afford to dawdle, let alone rest or put your pack down, or more leeches will swarm you.” Everyone wore gloves and cinched their clothing tightly. When retrieving items from their packs, they had to keep them on their backs and ask the person behind to help. “Every few minutes, I had to check my head, neck, and face. The leeches are slippery and soft, latching on tightly. If you feel one, you can’t just yank it off—you have to remove your gloves and slowly pry open the edges of its sucker with your fingers.” Every time they crossed a bridge, Shen Kun and his teammates would meticulously inspect themselves inside and out. “It was truly horrifying—there were so many big and small leeches, absolutely disgusting.”
The Most Dangerous: A Path Only a Foot Wide with a Raging River Below
Shen Kun claims he didn’t encounter too many dangers while biking, but the trek through Medog was fraught with peril. Located in southern Tibet, near the China-India border, Medog is known as a “trekker’s paradise.” There are no roads—only endless virgin forests and persistent rain. “As soon as you step out, your feet get soaked—it’s not a place for humans,” he said. The path led through areas recently hit by landslides and mudflows. “But it wasn’t as terrifying as the internet made it out to be.” When reaching Tiger’s Mouth, carrying a heavy backpack weighing dozens of pounds, Shen Kun had to hug the mountain wall with both arms and walk tightly against it. The narrowest part of the path was only a foot wide, with the roaring waters of the Yarlung Tsangpo River raging below. “When it rains, try not to wear a plastic raincoat if you can avoid it. In such terrain, if the raincoat snags on the cliff or you lose your balance, it’s extremely dangerous.”
There’s a bridge over the Yarlung Tsangpo River known as the “Bridge of Death.” It’s held up by iron chains on both sides with wooden planks laid across. Due to the region’s abundant rainfall and constant humidity, many of the wooden planks have rotted. You shouldn’t carry too heavy a load, and every step must be taken with extreme caution. A Tibetan friend of one of Shen Kun’s teammates previously fell through the rotten planks and died in the river. Hearing about such life-threatening risks, Shen Kun admitted he’d imagined such scenarios himself. In his travel diary on July 2, 2011, he wrote, “I felt quite uncertain and hesitant, worried about trekking through Medog. If something really happened, the consequences would be unimaginable. What’s meant to come will come—just go with the flow!” “But I just wanted to go, to complete this unique experience,” Shen Kun said. That simple motivation kept him going. “But you must be fully prepared and think things through beforehand.”
Shen Kun was born in Suqian, Jiangsu, a place that gave birth to the legendary King Xiang Yu of the Western Chu over a thousand years ago. Seemingly influenced by his ancestors and local spirit, Shen Kun describes himself as “stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat. Once I’ve decided to do something, I’ll do it—no matter what my parents say.” Shen Kun’s parents only know he loves to bike around—they have no idea about his extraordinary experiences.