From Saga to Raga the road was in pretty good shape, just as well as it had to climb a steep 5000m pass. We were in reasonable shape too until Jane, startled by the appearance of road grooming tractors, fell off her bike. A little bruised and with a little hole to the elbow we dropped down onto loosely raked gravel to the town of Raga (or Raka, our map gave both names).
The town had a couple of hotels, a checkpoint and a semi redundant petrol station - it was now acting as a meeting and sleeping point for a local herd of shaggy goats.
Our bed for the night came with a bucket of yak droppings, perfect for the little stove in our room. Our hostess lit the fire for us then periodically checked we were keeping it going properly.
In the morning the men of the family tried out our bikes cycling around the courtyard of the hotel. The bell on Jane's bike was the star of the show.

Visit border cycling for more information on guided cycle trips.