The Bike Trip- Lucknow-Ladakh-Kashmir
Things started falling into place around May. Payal got a MDS seat in Bangalore, Daya’s bike was supposed to be on the verge of completion and Ash’s exam dates had come. Everyone who we told about the trip seemed incredulous about the whole thing, as if we were talking about a childish dream. I had to ask my brother for loaning his bike which he magnanimously agreed to send by GATI. Finally things started falling into place. The departure dates had to be postponed by two weeks due to the non-availability of D’s bike. So at last the departure dates were announced and the wheels were set in motion. Surprisingly my parents were totally into the idea. The technician in my department personally came and reminded me about my responsibilities vis-à-vis my family and futility of the whole trip. Iram and Nadia could not believe such a trip was possible. Khalid wanted to come, I think, but the logistics of the whole trip didn’t suit him. Parul thought this all was some kind of a joke and we all were too old to try such tricks! H & D had their own personal set of detractors and disbelievers.
Blueprint of the trip was laid out. D got his and the bike’s train reservation done from Bangalore to Ambala. He would be borrowing a bullet from the bike mechanic as his bike was still not ready. H bought the necessary literature from Landmark. A book on Ladakh, most aptly titled “Ladakh”, that he bought acted as our trusty guide on the trip and enlightened us about must-see points on the way, both natural and man made, which we would have otherwise overlooked. There was a disagreement about whether we both should start the ride from Lucknow itself or take the train till Dehradun and proceed from there. I felt that if I was doing something might as well do the whole hog. And that is what we eventually did. H went ahead by train, taking his bike along with him, while I started on my own from Lucknow to Dehradun two days later.
Day 1:
10th of July, 2007
Got up early in the morning with a slight apprehension about the whole trip. Had packed most of my things the night before so only had to load it all up on the bike. Charged up both cell phones so that the battery doesn’t run out midway. Brought the luggage- one black bag and a back pack outside. Looked up and was pleased to see the overcast sky. Took out the two collars of Suzana from the letter box to tie up the bag. Thought that they’ll act as my good luck charm. Took out the strap from the black bag and put it across as reinforcers on the bike. Tried to tie the blue nylon rope but Mahinder turned out to be more competent in that. Finally shut the house, made the mandatory calls to Ash, amma and mausi. Hoped that the bike would start without any hiccups and it did after 3-4 kicks.
So lo and behold I was on my way!
First went to ABN-Amro bank to drop my credit card cheque. Had to have some credit backing in case of any emergency. Gave the cheque to the guard to put in the drop box rather then getting of myself as didn’t want to struggle with kick starting the bike all over again. Saw the guard drop the cheque, thanked him and was on my way.
Took the route through Mahanagar to reach Sitapur bypass. Made a detour to Nana-Nani’s place at B-721, said a silent prayer. As it was still pretty early the traffic was minimal and made good progress towards the Kukrail circle at the bypass. Just before the circle a tempo suddenly stopped in front of me and I also braked. As I came to a stop I heard a crash just behind me. Due to the helmet and the backpack in front I wasn’t able to turn around completely so was unable to make out the source of the noise. As I slowly started to move I saw a bike with its rider sprawled on the road just behind me. Hardly 9kms into the journey and I almost had an accident!
Got on the bypass and was soon cruising on my way to Dehradun.
70kms per hour was the ideal speed for the bike and that road. Overcast sky, relatively empty road- what more could I ask for?
Around 40kms from Lucknow, near Vinayka mission, theres this farmer standing on the side of the road who looks towards me and raises both his hands as if to bless someone. I looked around but couldn’t see anyone or any vehicle so I automatically assumed it was for me. All alone on the road, on a bike which I had just learnt how to ride, I could make do with all blessings, real or make believe, coming my way.
Crossed Sitapur and finally made my first stop after riding non-stop for around 100kms. The pan shop owner was pretty awe stuck and asked all kind of questions and he had readymade answers: where was I coming from? Kerala? (he assumed KA in the bike’s registration stood for that), where was I going to? Delhi? (Ladakh wasn’t the answer he was expecting), why am I doing this? I’m a foreigner. And he was very impressed with my hindi! Took 4 packets of Glucose biscuits, mineral water, toothpaste, soap and 10-15 bubble gums to chew on the way. Had a chilled pepsi to ward of the heat and foolishly rolled over the sleeves of my shirt so that I feel a bit cooler while riding. It was already around 9am and was getting warm by the minute.
Started off once again and was back to cruising speed pretty soon. Around Shahjahanpur two guys on a brand new 100cc bike suddenly got a bit threatened by my Thunderbird. And the one sided race started. They first examined the bike from all sides- imagine two bhaiya looking guys, 25-30 of age, scrawny, with mercury glasses trying to look menacing. I pretended not to notice but kept on my pace of 70ks. They vroomed ahead but due to the traffic conditions had to slow down when I just thumped past them. This really threatened their masculinity and they were almost on the point of hysteria. They would overtake me and soon I would catch up with them and cruise ahead. This went on for a good 15-20kms till the time they went of to their village on the side of the road. Good riddance cause they did appear shady.
My reliance cell started ringing and it rang 2-3 times before I made a stop to check who was so persistent. It turns out that the calls were coming from the college. Didn’t have a choice so I called back with irritation to know what was so bloody urgent. Vandana forwarded the call to the Principal who wanted me to send Ayush that very instance to get her NOC signed. And I was are you for real? Here I’m standing in the middle of nowhere and he wants the dumb NOC. Told him Ayush was out of station and wouldn’t be able to make it back so soon. He wasn’t pleased, but then who gives a damn! Called up Ayush and told her to get in touch with the college.
Reached Bareilly around 2:30pm and stopped at the Reliance’s A1 café for lunch. Made the mandatory calls and soon was stuffing myself with chicken biryani. Delicious! Had a coffee to refresh myself and got back on the bike.
Thought of taking the route through Pilhibit to Dehradun via Bareilly. Turned out to be a bad idea cause after the first 20kms the road turned out for the worst and I had to turn around. Wasted an hour and rode an extra 50 odd kms. Took the road to Moradabad.
After the bike chase near Shahjahanpur, came across a black Safari with real mafia looking crowd inside. I had no intention of racing them but as I had to make up for the lost time I was going at a speed of 80-90ks and they somehow took this up as a challenge. In the crowded, badly maintained Bareilly-Moradabad road it’s rather difficult to outrace a bike on a four wheel drive. They would zoom past and I would cross them easily at railway crossings and traffic jams. After Rampur all the good humour drained out of them and they started coming menacingly close while overtaking me. Thankfully near Moradabad I had to enter the city while they were continuing on the by-pass. They moved away after giving me the dirtiest of glares.
I was still remising about the car chase when this 65-70 year old sardar on a black Honda Activa scooter got into the racing mood, and I’m thinking is everyone in this part of the country an idiot? Now a speed of 80-90ks on a straight, smooth road is nothing great for a Thunderbird, but I could see the uneven wavering such speeds were causing that numbskull on his scooter. Eventually I had to slow down so that grandfather could reach home alive and boast to his grandchildren on how he outraced a 300cc bike on his crummy, two bit scooter.
Moradabad finally! It was already 6pm and I was very tired. Stopped after crossing the city at a juice shop and had a tough time getting off the bike. My legs were frozen and my ass was sore. Had a glass of that shops “special” juice- large glass please! Called up Sreedhar but as expected he didn’t pick up the phone. Just wanted to know of a good place to crash in the city but knowing him I’m sure he expected that I’ll want to stay with him in his staff flat at the dental college. Remembered that Nitin too had some relatives in Moradabad so called him instead. Nitin guided me pretty well and reached a pretty decent hotel by 7pm. Parked the bike outside. Told them to give me the best room. 1200 bucks inclusive of dinner was a good deal seeing how pooped I was. Answered the usual question of where I’m coming and where I’m off to. Got the standard incredulous look when I said Ladakh. The room was a heaven sent. Put A/C at full blast and went for a shower. Got the shock of my life to see my charred forearms and Rudolph the reindeer red nose! My ass was burning and my legs were cramped. Took a long, long shower. Came back and flopped on the bed. Just lay still for quite sometime. Couldn’t even lie down on my back thanks to my sore, aching backside. Called up everyone to tell them I’m alive. Papa wasn’t amused that I was all alone in the first leg of my trip- a fact I had “forgotten” to tell him. Again had biryani- mutton this time for dinner. High protein diet are supposed tom be good for such trips, or so I believe.
Watched a bit of TV after the early dinner and didn’t even realize when I went off to sleep. Got up after sometime, switched off the lights and TV and went back to a coma like sleep.
End of day one and a pretty tiring one at that.
Day 2:
Had told the hotel lobby to wake me at 7am but was up before that. Ordered some coffee and sandwiches from the room service. Took a bath and was almost fit enough to ride once again. Made the guards at the entrance get the bike own from the steep ramp at the entrance of the hotel. Took directions for Dehradun from the guy at the reception, paid the bill and got on the way.
There was no traffic and the road was pretty decent. Had a hard time the last time on the wavy road I had went this way on my trusted maruti around 5 years back. The countryside was pretty and the fields lush. Was surprised to the see the predominance of muslim villages in this side of the country. As the distance to cover was not great (as compared to yesterday) so thought of taking it easy today with plenty of breaks and at a slower pace. Had to go off the road at one place as the bridge over the small nullah was under repair, and as I was trudging through the dirt path I saw a big, rusted bolt jutting out of the ground. Just managed to miss it by an inch. Would have had a puncture on my hand if I had gone over it for sure. That was lucky escape number one for that day.
Took a break at Muzzafarnagar. Stopped over at a relatively decent looking restaurant for refreshments. Saw that Shalini had called a couple of times, so thought of calling her back from there. Turned out to be bad news as aunty (her mom) was diagnosed with a tumor like growth in her back. Felt pretty bad for her and her mom. Talked to her for sometime and told her to go for a biopsy for confirmative diagnosis and not to rely solely on FNAC.
After trudging through the plains of Uttar Pardesh for ages finally entered Uttrakhand. The roads were better, the weather was better and the scenery was better. Just at the beginning of the winding road I failed to realize that the bike was going too fast and could see that I was going to crash. The turn was came up abruptly and was sharp. Everything started happening in slow motion. I knew that the bike was going too fast to make the turn and despite decelerating, applying brakes, the momentum would drag me off the road. So there I went off the road, on the dirt track, bouncing on the stones, not knowing what was in store for me on the other side of the curve. Thankfully the dirt track was pretty wide and continued parallel to the curve throughout. Managed to get a control on the bike and put it back on the road. This was lucky escape number two.
I was still thanking my lucky stars for the providential escape when I entered a swarm of lemon yellow butterflies. It was as if a yellow cloud had descended from nowhere. Millions of them! All over the road, on the sides, crashing into the bike and passing vehicles. Had to pull down the visor of my helmet and slowed down as much as possible as to minimize the fatalities from my bike. This phenomenon went on for a good 10-15 kms and could not help but marvel at this amazing sight.
Finally reached Haridwar around noon and thought of chilling out at the bank of Ganga for sometime. Parked my bike on the side and went, sat at the steps of the ghats, took off my shoes and put my feet in the cold, refreshing water. Got a call from my father-in-law who was pretty peeved that I had not taken “permission” from him for the trip. Furthermore he dropped a bombshell by stating that he also wants to go on the trip and would be joining me. I was zapped! I tried to dissuade him but he became all the more resolute about coming. It took a long time to make him understand the precariousness of the whole trip and he eventually decided not to go rather reluctantly.
Sat admiring the sights and sounds of Haridwar for some more time. Checked my Airtel (conference cell) and saw 4-5 missed calls from an unknown number. Generally I tend to ignore calls from unknown numbers but for some reason I called back this time around. It turned out to be from some post grad Oral Path student, Hemani from Chennai. She had some queries about the paper presentation. Somewhere in the midst of that conversation I mentioned that I was in Haridwar right now and she should call up someone in Lucknow for further assistance. Turned out that she too was from this side of the country and was working in Oral Path dept as a lecturer when I had come there as an examiner. One topic led to another and I found out that she was supposed to join p.g. (Oral path) in ’99 along with me in Dharwad but was unable to do so due to some personal reasons. This is a small world indeed!
Rishikesh came up rather quickly after starting from Haridwar. Daya had told about this guy Lucky who arranged trips to Leh from Kullu. Finally located his garage but came to know that he wasn’t working there anymore.
Came on the final stretch before Dehradun with dark, threatening clouds overhead. Zipped through the wildlife reserve so that I could make it to Payal’s place before it started raining. Could see the rain ganging up on me at a few places but managed to beat it eventually.
This was my lucky break number three.
Called up Harish once I reached Dehradun and it turned out that I was just a few hundred meters from their place. Landed up at Payal’s place finally and parked the bike in the shed. It started pouring a short while after I landed.
So with this I came to an end of day two.
Day three & four:
After the tiring two days of riding, had the much required R & R. Payal’s place was a God sent. Had good food and the much required rest. It rained and rained the whole day, making us wonder if we would be able to go on with the trip. Uncle took us to the sadar bazaar for the purchases. Bought high ankle, water proof, black shoes. Tent, sleeping bag, polythene sheets, gloves etc. Took H’s bike for servicing. Had lunch at Barista and bought a few books for the journey. Got tyre tubes, puncture kit, elastic net to tie the luggage. Went out in the evening to buy medicines, sunscreen lotion (though I was already burnt and scorched) and other nick nacks. Rain was still relentless and was coming down in buckets. Filled up the bikes and got it serviced from the authorized service center. Took extra clutch and brake wire from the agency.
Day five:
Finally the day to move came. Fortunately we got a window of opening in the relentless rain and made our move. H led from the front as he knew the way out of Dehradun.
Around the Indian Forest Academy I lost him. He just disappeared from my line of vision. Now I stood there
wondering what to do. Tried calling him on his mobile but he didn’t pick it up. After around 10 mins he mysteriously reappeared from behind. Had stopped to buy something and I must have missed him while over taking a bus. After the initial confusion moved on towards the border of UK. Had our first photo-op at Aasan reservoir on the border. Crossed over to Himachal with rain right on our back.Pontasahib was the first town across the border. Clicked a few snaps of the famous Gurudwara. Rain finally caught up with us and forced us to stop at a road side tea stall. Had our first argument thanks to the rain- I obviously wanted to go on in the rain while H wanted to stop. There was hardly any place to stand under the polythene sheet at the tea stall and I could feel the rain drop sliding down my back. H got a place to park his bike in a tenthouse shop nearby and we shifted there till the rain passed over. After over 30-40 mins we got a break and moved on. Hit the hills soon after starting. Cheer forest welcomed us to the mountains.
Daya was supposed to start from Ambala and meet us mid-way to Shimla. Missed the point where we were to meet and hence stopped at a tea shop a bit further ahead. H started with his Paul Colecho’s “Like a flowing river” while I tried to search for signal and sent some smss. After a long wait Daya turned up. After a joyous reunion and a meal of tea and biscuits, we moved on. Stopped after sometime near Nahan for a photo break and smoke. The view of the valley below was beautiful. Saw a couple of eagles soaring in the valley below but before H could capture it on his camcorder they flew away much to his dismay. Jai was down with fever so that thing was troubling me a lot. Called Ayush and came to know that he was fine. Moved on towards Solan and finally hit the Chandigarh-Shimla highway. Stopped at a restaurant and had late lunch of omelets, chips and tea. Made the final ascent towards Shimla and it was already getting dark. Driving at night with chill increasing and in the glare of approaching vehicles was not a pleasant experience at all. H & D had stopped around 9kms from Shimla to buy some cigs while I pushed on ahead on the winding, steep road as to be there by the time the sun set.
Shimla was surprisingly cold. Stopped near the railway station and pulled out my sweater and jacket. Met the station master (some Punjabi guy) while waiting for the duo. He was waiting for the water tanker to come and fill up the tank at his place. The guy seemed pretty knowledgeable about the route to Kullu, Rohtang, Keylong etc. and the neighboring places to stay and visit around Shimla.
Finally after what seemed ages they turned up and we went scouting for a place to stay on the other side of the hill after crossing over through the tunnel. We were soon surrounded by kashmiri porters who apparently doubled as hotel touts at night. Managed to get a relatively decent room in a hotel placed on a rather stiff slope. After unpacking and unwinding in the room went in search of food. Had butter chicken and rotis like there’s no tomorrow in a dhaba near the hotel. Trekked back to the hotel and flopped on the bed. Was feeling a bit feverish so took a paracetamol before logging off for the night.
So this was the end of day five.
Day Six:
Woke up early and was pleasantly surprised to see the scenic view from the balcony of our room. There was a huge deodar forest on the slopes and the whole of Shimla and surrounding hilltops could be seen from here. Took a long leisurely bath and ordered breakfast from room service. Trudged down to the parking and tied up our stuff on the bikes. Had to take D’s help to kick start the bike due to the chill. Went down the slope and filled up the tank and air in the bikes. Started on our way to Manali via Sundernagar and Mandi. The road from Shimla was mostly downhill so it was an easy ride on a well maintained road. There was a threat from dark ominous clouds looming over hence we were in a hurry to cover up as much distance as possible before the rain started. Stopped for tea in a dhaba, near a stream. There were three foreign females with a driver/guide having breakfast traveling by a dilapidated white maruti van. It all seemed so mysterious, there presence in the middle of nowhere with a dubious looking driver, in a semi broken down vehicle. Moved on down towards Sundernagar and as we progressed down the temperature kept on creeping up.
Saw villagers carrying “chadhi” i.e. villagers carrying a deity (usually the local devi) on a palanquin for a considerable distance to some temple. This time they were carrying her to a temple near Mandi, a distance of around 150kms, with the local band in toe. It reminded me of the Dusshera festival in Manali, where I had gone to around three decades back and where all the deities from the neighbouring hills came down to assemble in one place for the maha puja. That was a spectacle worth seeing with different deities, the hill people in ceremonial wear and the local bands going on at full blast!y
Trudged along in the insipid landscape and dirty, squalid towns of plains. Stopped over at a restaurant around 7-8kms before Sundernagar for lunch. Had a nice, full meal of chicken and mutton. Was entrapped between two trucks while over taking and had a providential escape. Got over the silly notion of looking for upcoming traffic by looking for the shadow of vehicles coming from the opposite side on turns.
Mandi is supposed to be the main storehouse for edibles and wood in this part of the country. It turned out to be a dirty, dusty town. Got on the Delhi-Manali highway near it and our pace increased on the broad, well laid road. Beas river appeared on the right and would be with us till Kullu. The current, quantity & colour of water and the surrounding valley reminded me of the similarities between Beas and Chenab. Especially the Chenab we see in the mountains of J & K. Crossed the village of Pandoh which must have been the ancestral village of my colleague in Jammu, Dr. Daljeet Pandoh.
Rain which had been threatening us throughout was just on the verge of overtaking us, but despite that had to make a brief stop over on the huge barrage that had been built on the river Beas. The view of the valley below was great and the quantity of water frothing out of the gates was awesome thanks to the rainy season. Our desi tourists were busy clicking snaps on the barrage ignoring the huge board put up by the authorities proclaiming “Photography strictly prohibited. Anyone caught photographing would be prosecuted”
H & D were someone behind but I was in a hurry to cover as much as ground before the torrential downpour engulfed the hillside. I could see the advancing rain from the vantage point on top. Waited for them to reappear for sometime but after ten minutes pushed on.
Moved from the right bank to the left bank of Beas but soon after that had to stop because of the rain. Stopped at a mini market and parked the bike inside a tea shop. The shop owner couple was from a village placed on a hillock on top of the road. Chatted up with them while sipping tea and eating glucose biscuits. Heard the thump of D’s bullet and ran out to wave him down but he simply kept on going in the pouring rain. He had momentarily slowed down when I shouted but then after a brief pause accelerated once again. I am sure he had heard me but preferred to ignore.
After around waiting at the shop for 25-30 mins H passed by but thankfully he spotted my bike and stopped. He had been waiting for the rain to stop at a place a few kms away and D had passed him too while he stood shouting in the rain. H had his smoke while waited for the weather to clear. Eventually the rain gods relented and we were washed by brilliant sunshine. Got on the roof of the shop and clicked some snaps of the sun drenched hill on the opposite, as well as a picturesque suspended bridge on the river. Thanked the shop owners, paid the bill plus some tip and moved on towards Manali while H tried to capture the view in his handycam.
Kept on going up the road and after a few kms, from where I had stopped, I made a sharp left turn and came across a tunnel. The traffic had trickled down due to the rain and I was there all alone in that cavernous tunnel. And what a tunnel it was! Running for a few kilometers, lighted by yellow halogen lights (which gave it an eerie glow) and it even had a right turn encompassed within it. After what seemed like eternity of exhilaration and trepidation (no one had told me about this tunnel) I exited on the other side of the mountain. As the other side was drenched in rain this side of the tunnel was drenched in brilliant sunshine with not even a trace of cloud in the sky. The view of mountains was amazing with conifer forests, jagged peaks and snow covered mountain tops. Finally caught up D on a crossroad and we waited for H to catch up. Moved on together towards Manali. As evening was setting in we decided to stop at a nice place in Manali rather then proceeding towards Kullu as after the Shimla experience I was in no mood to ride in the mountains during night time. We wanted to stay in a nice hotel cause after this we had no idea what kind of places we would be forced to stop in before reaching Leh.
Came across a fancy place called “Apple Valley Resort” located on the banks of Beas. Thought of enquiring though it looked a bit on the expensive side. I went in and had a chat at the reception. Came out had a mini meeting and reached to a conclusion that the rates were within our budget. Got a lovely room with ivy covered balcony and an authentic fireplace. Freshened up a bit and went straight to the restaurant placed on a stone jetty projecting into the river. We could see the lights of Kullu coming on with the approaching darkness and our frayed nerves were relaxed by the soothing sound of the rapids. Had a few drinks and snacks while sitting there. Interrogated D about the speeding off but he denied it obviously. Watched a masaledar hindi movie on Zee cinema much to H’s irritation. Somehow I feel there is nothing more relaxing then watching a brainless hindi flick while traveling and specially in hotel rooms, a sentiment which I felt was shared by D. Slept off peacefully surrounded by the sound of the rushing river and scent of pine trees.
A much awaited ending to day six.
Day 7:
Started the day at a leisurely pace. D & H had left early in the morning for a ride and would be coming back by afternoon. Got up aaraam se and had a full breakfast. Lolled around the room, took a long bath, packed up the stuff yet again. Went out and got the bike tuned up from a guy just next door to the resort. Actually the mechanic was in a Hero Honda service center and I had just asked him for directions but it turned out that he had worked as a bullet mechanic for around 10 yrs before. I was a bit skeptical about his capabilities but when he got his entire diploma and experience certificates out I had to believe him. Sat with him while he changed the oils and clutch wire. Finally left him with the instructions to get the bike washed. Went to the hotel and sat at the pier, admiring the view of the valley and the flowing river. All this reminded me of Pehalgam resort in Kashmir and the river Lidder flowing through it. Went back to collect the bike but it turned out that it being a Sunday all the washing centers were closed. Came back to the resort at around 1pm, cleared the bills and packed my bike. Put D & H’s stuff in the lobby as they were still at large.
Kullu was a place I had missed once before as a child cause at that time I had come down with high fever and diarrhea leaving my parents no choice but to return back to Jammu from Manali. So we had an unfinished business at hand. The road to Kullu was beautiful with Beas river running along on the right side. The clouds were omnipresent as before and living in the mountains had taught me one thing and that is it usually rains around late afternoon. Hence I wanted to be there by the time it poured. Saw a very different kind of plant, around 5 feet in height with flowers present on it’s stalk, which I thought I’ll capture on film and will ask my mom later on for it’s name. As I was turning the bike around to click it I failed to appreciate the slope of the road. Before I could do anything the bike started falling down in slow motion. I just stood with my feet apart trying to control the fall of the bike. It eventually came to rest on its right side and I had a tough time getting it up again what with the entire luggage, the slope and the weight of the bike itself. Thankfully there was no traffic on the road at that time. So this was my first “fall”. Statistically speaking they say that a person will fall at least thrice on the way to Leh. One down, two to go!
Reached Kullu just as the rains started coming down. Parked the bike on the main road and left the luggage on after making sure that the black polythene sheet covering it was secured with the elastic net and water tight. Went across the road to a restaurant on the first floor. Took the table next to the window overlooking my bike. This place would also help me to locate H & D whenever they turned up. Finally got in touch with H, D’s Tata Indicom as it is was of no use in these parts as it was perpetually out of reach. They had just got back to the hotel and would be late in coming to Kullu. As the rains had started I didn’t expect them to be here anytime soon. Thought of passing time with a slow, full course lunch. Started with coffee followed by dosa, puri bhaji and gulab jamun. As they still hadn’t turned up ordered another cup of coffee.
Sat on the window which was opposite a park called “city forest”. Punjus of all shape and sizes, talking loudly, some with music systems blaring the latest punjabi or movie numbers were there in the park. They were swarming in and out of the measly park with a few sickly pine trees, rusted rides and a cemented path with hardly any place to walk. Reminded me of the poem “Pied piper of Hamelin” for some reason.
Three Israeli girls were playing cards on the next table and smoking away to glory. They must have sat there for almost three hours without ordering anything, just playing cards. Must have been regulars in that joint. Finally spotted D or to be more precise he spotted my bike and parked his alongside. Waved to him from the window of restaurant and told him to come up. H who was riding along with D was now missing. It seems that D forgot to tell him that he would be stopping while he continued to ride till the end of the town. D suddenly realized his folly and went down to find him. After some confusion we three were together once again. After they both had their lunch we got on with the final opportunity of shopping. Bought a sleeping bag, a woolen cap and leather gloves from a ladakhi guy who seemed around 100yrs old but was mentally as sharp as a fox. It was getting dark fast so had to arrange for a place to crash for the night. Went ahead from Kullu by a few kilometer and took a place from where we would have less distance to travel for Rohtang pass the next morning. The hotel was nice and new but the only hiccup was they had no parking hence we had to unload all the luggage and drag it to the hotel room. Went out to fill up the tanks. The next pump was around 180kms away. Parul’s sms informed us that the Chairman of our college was not well, so this was another food for thought while we ventured into the cell free zone tomorrow. We would be out of touch from civilization for the next three days atleast. Ordered an early dinner as we had to move early the next day to beat the local tourists on their way to the pass.
Had a relatively easy day and the seventh day came to an end.
Day 8:
Got up early or to tell you the tru
th was woken up by my apprehensions. Went to the window to see the weather conditions. There were clouds in the sky but they didn’t look as ominous as before. The sun was just coming up from behind the mountain peaks and lit up the snow topped peaks on the opposite side of Kullu valley- a breathtaking view! Clicked snaps of these peaks from every possible angel to get one which could justify this glorious sight. Had a quick breakfast, tied up the luggage on the bikes and were on our way before the traffic of tourists from Kullu & Manali could clog up the road up to Rohtang pass. The road had been washed off in a cloudburst for a few hundred meters. Took a detour through the bank of Beas and were soon on the steep road up. The mountain sides were lush green and there were small and high waterfalls at almost every turn. Sun finally broke through by the time we were around half way up and covered us in resplenden
t sunshine. H & D stopped a lot for clicking snaps/ smoke while I continued on my way up. Got stuck behind a sardar in a white Innova who just refused to give way. He seemed terrified by the height and the absence of parapets on the side of the road. Finally I managed to squeeze ahead on a turn and wanted to give him a piece of my mind but just one look at his face I could see the sheer terror he was going through. Came across walls of snow which being on the leeward side of the mountain had not melted. Some enterprising people had put tea kiosks just next to them seeing how they attracted the tourists. Reached the top of the road and stopped at a point from where I could see the road below. Waited for the two of them to come up but could not make them out anywhere. 
Moved on towards Rohtang pass. Parked the bike at the pass to admire the view. There was Kullu valley on one side and Spiti valley on the opposite side. The mountains on Kullu side were tame, green, with waterfalls and covered with conifer forests while those on the Spiti side were taller, with jagged edges, snow covered, barren and angry looking. H & D finally caught up and we had a pro photo session with D’s SLR camera and tripod stand. This was the end of civilization or so we thought and the other side was a territory where very few people had ventured to- Lahaul & Spiti. A place cut off from the rest of the world for a minimum of six months every year.
Started on our way down, which is a more difficult task then riding uphill. The road condition deteriorated almost immediately after crossing the pass. There was some sprinkle from the clouds above and getting stuck on a 
high mountain pass in a cloudburst was not something which I fancied. Had heard too many stories of cloudbursts and there immediate after effects from my relatives and in the papers. Thankfully the rain stopped after sometime. Streams were spilling on to the road at some places, crossing which at that time seemed to be an imposing task but would become a matter of routine later on in the journey. Came down the pass and stopped at the first tea stall. There were a few other bikers on their way to Leh.
Two boys (19-21yrs old) stopped while I was having tea. Those two were on a 100cc bike (a Hero Honda I think) with a single backpack between the two of them and cheap roadside jackets on their back and that to for a place where night temperatures can fall down to minus ten degrees at the passes. The first thing they asked was that whether this was the road to Leh? They both had started a day before from Delhi and were traveling almost non stop. I was amazed at their nonchalance and bravado. The driver claimed to have participated in rallies in and around Delhi while the pillion rider seemed to be his lackey. While he was boasting about his adventures his bike fell down from the stand! They were planning to ride through the night and reach Leh by tomorrow evening. A three day trip at the least on a single hand driven, stronger bike which the two of them planned to undertake on that puny bike in 24hrs! As they had to cover quite a distance they left off on a hurry. We didn’t come across them further down on the road, there was one vehicle every 3-4 kms so and only one road so they were impossible to miss, enquired about them at the only petrol pump on that 500km road nor did we see them anywhere in Ladakh. Are they resting at the bottom of some crevice on the side of the road or in a watery grave? I still wonder at times what had become of them eventually.
Saw a flock of babblers while sitting at the tea shop and was amazed at the amount of din they were creating and type of acrobats they performed while playing. Tried to capture them on H’s camcorder but I don’t think such scenes can be captured. You can at the most capture the bird in flight, but the ambience of that scene, their shrieks echoing and being carried away by the wind would obviously be left out.
We passed the road splitting for Spiti valley on the right and carried on riding towards Lahoul. The terrain was as raw as I had ever seen. The mountain peaks looked angry with jagged peaks, huge glaciers, towering waterfalls and boulders hanging out as if ready to come down at the slightest touch. Road conditions were deplorable. There was no tar to speak of and the road was basically made of pebbles and rocks of various sizes. Thankfully with a bike, as you only require a single track, we could move on without any major difficulty, though our speed had come down considerably. To compound the problem of bad road there were mountain streams running, in some places for 100-200 feet, on the road. We not only had to keep the bike from skidding in these icy waters but also prevent the water from seeping into our shoes. Parapets were no where to be seen and any error of judgment or a skidding bike in the water could end up in a straight drop of a few hundred feet into the rapid, freezing waters of Chenab river below.
This same Chenab river would go on and enter my state. Chandra and Bhaga rivers would be meeting further up the road to form this river which forms the lifeline of J & K. Throughout my life I’ve seen it in various moods and forms. Rapid, angry and frothing near Kishthwar. Sluggish and wide near sluggish at Ramban. Brownish grey in spring and summers, emerald green in autumn and winters.
Gobbling men and machines from time to time. Anything which would fall down from the road above either due to an accident or a landslide. Including a couple of my relatives. Like an alligator waiting for the next prey. Nothing ever came up or survived the fall. A river, a lifeline, a myth and a monster.
We only had heavy truck traffic for company. Most of them were carrying edible stuff from Mandi to Keylong and Leh. What I really appreciate in mountain drivers is their road sense, a feature sadly missing in their compatriots in the plains. They would give us a pass at the first given opportunity and maintained strict road discipline.
Keylong, the capital of the kingdom of Lahaul & Spiti in ancient times and the district headquarters in the present day was our target for the day. On the way we took another break at a small hamlet and had tea and glucose biscuits at a roadside shop. We had entered the land of the lamas and monasteries. I washed my face to get rid of the dirt
and grime of the road. Clothes were coated by dust and were far beyond salvaging.
We had to come down to cross the bridge on Chenab river so as to pass on to the other side and ascend for Keylong. While coming down we could see that there had been land slides at a few places which had been cleared by bulldozers recently. While crossing at one such clearing I looked up the rocky slope and saw a few stones tumbling down. I first thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but once the stones started tumbling on the road I realized the gravity of the situation and sped off! What added to my worry was the fact that in case of a land slide there were no parapets to stop the slide and any vehicle would be simply pushed into the river below. And of course my childhood awe of Chenab was always there reminding me of the fateful accidents and tragedies of the past.
Indian Oil pump at Tandi- the last refueling point for the next 365kms! The next one being in Leh, Ladakh. Filled up our tanks and took a few more liters in the 2-3 water bottles we had with us. Saw a BSNL tower, the first sign of civilization, after Rohtang. Keylong town could be seen in the distance and overlooking the town was a humongous snow covered mountain. Silhouette of a female holding a stick in her right hand, more then hundred feet tall, made up of the rocky terrain and surrounded by snow, could be made out from where we stood admiring the view. This was the “Lady of Keylong”. The guardian angel overlooking and protecting the town from any calamity.
Lunch break was taken in Keylong. A small town made up of around 15-20 shops on either side of the road. My mobile had stopped working so called up Ash and amma from STD phone booth. Had rice, momos and a mutton dish for lunch. H told us about a place too stay around 20-30 kms down the road, which was supposed to be pretty hospitable.
Riding after a heavy lunch was not a very ideal proposition but had no choice in this respect. Felt drowsy and tired but still continued moving down the road. We had almost given up all hope when suddenly in the middle of nowhere we came across a huge, four storied structure with Jispa painted across its tin roof standing in a distance. Our sagging spirits soared and with a renewed spirit we raced towards our haven- Hotel Ibex in Jispa. Parked the bikes and trudged up the 15-20 steps to the hotel lobby. The effort we had to undertake to climb up the stairs, first to the lobby and then to our room on the third floor, made me realize that oxygen scarcity had started. The view from our room was truly beautiful. We were placed on the plain formed by a river flowing at a distance and walled by steep, rocky mountains on both sides. Evening sun was falling on the mountain front on the opposite bank giving a golden glow to the valley. I flopped on the bed while H & D went on to explore the river and its surrounding. D tried out his photographic skills and some of the snaps came out pretty good. Relaxed and reminisced about the events of the day with each one coming up with a few personal anecdotes. Went down to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner. There were a few more people surprisingly. Surprising as we were practically in middle of nowhere. An American couple with a satellite phone and two daughters in tow. A few Europeans who were being entertained by the hotel owner, a Buddhist. And of course us. We had ordered the food in advance so it did not take long to appear. Rice was a luxury in these places and took forever to cook so we had to make do with chapattis and chicken. Had coffee as a night cap. Climbed back to the room after the meal and flopped on the bed for a good nights sleep. Tried out my sleeping bag but had to chuck it in the middle of the night as it became too hot in it. Took the Chinese blanket provided by the hotel and slept off bringing an end to the eighth day of the trip.
Day 9:
Woke up with the sound of Bhaga river in the distance. Had a nice warm bath. Such luxuries would not be available in the place where we would be camping tonight. Went down for breakfast which took forever to come. D had arranged for our bikes to be washed so they were gleaming by the time we came down to move on. Had our first big pass- Bara Lacha La at around 15,000 feet, to cross after the relatively shorter Rohtang at 13,100 feet. Went down to the bank of river while waiting for H to turn up which had formed a kind of peninsula with multiple streams criss crossing on the flat, gravel bed. A few streams were running across the road, and as these were deeper then the one previously faced, it took some maneuvering to save my shoes and feet from getting wet.
Reached a picturesque small emerald lake Deepak Tal. The waters were pristine clear and we could see right to the bottom of the lake. Clicked some snaps and pushed on. As we moved on the road reached another lake, Vishal Tal, which as the same suggests was larger in size. Bhaga river had it’s origin from this lake. Two bikers were busy taking a bath at a mini water fall on the road side. With the water being just above freezing point that feat really required some guts.
Crossed a signboard proclaiming the name of place as Zing Zing Bar. Really loved the name and if I ever open a bar I know what am I going to call it! Stopped at a tea tent at the base before the steep incline for Bara Lacha La started. The lady operating the shop had a small white lamb and it was so warm and cuddly to hold. Just like a living breathing stuffed toy. D met some fellow bikers from Karnataka and they had mini kanada reunion.
Bara Lacha La was a sight to behold. Miles and miles of rolling plains with the mountains of the pass at one end. A mule train led by Gujjars could be seen slowly making its way in a distance looking as small as ants from where we stood ants. Never in my life had I come across such a vast, empty place with not a tree in sight. Gave full vent to our photography skills while waiting for H to turn up. Had a mini movie shooting after he turned up as he was the carrying the camcorder.
Chandra and Bhaga have their origin from Bara Lacha La (or the Big Pass) and they later on unite to form Chenab. They rolling plains of the moved down to form Sarchu plains.
Sarchu plains, miles and miles of straight road through flat grass plains. You could ride on the road or move to the grassy plains to break the monotony. Passed four-five resorts made up of row of tents and looking very tempting for a stay. Aamir Khan had stayed here a few years back on his way to Ladakh. As we had to cover a lot of distance till Leh and D had rationed day for the trip we moved on. Came across minarets of mud on the sloping bank of the river cutting through the plains. They appeared in rows running parallel to the river, like guardians protecting the banks.
Stopped for lunch at a road side restaurant located inside a large round tent. The owner had put wooden beds, instead of chairs or tables, covered by mattresses and bed sheets. Slept for sometime till the time our order of omelets and noodles came through. H complained of feeling a bit unwell so had to decide whether to go back to Sarchu and waste a day or move on to Pang. We had two more passes to cover- Nakee La and Lachung La before the end of the day. I wanted to move on and reach Leh before anything goes wrong with us or the machines in these Godforsaken places and H obviously wanted to go back around 30-40kms to Sarchu and wait for a day till we get acclimatised to the surroundings. The veto was now with D who as it seems to hate situations where he is called to take a stand. After much deliberations D said that we should move on. H took a few medicines and after having the watery noodles, uncooked rajma and burnt omelet we all slept in the tent for sometime.
Woke up with a mild head ache, most probably due to oxygen deprivation at such heights, but had miles to go before we sleep! H said that he was feeling a bit better. Moved on towards the multiple hair pins bends of Nakee La pass. Staying in J&K hair pin bends are part and parcel of traveling anywhere within the state by road. So they were not as a big an issue with me as was being made out in most of the guide books and online sites on Ladakh. Most of the larger bends had a rough track leading up as short cut. These most probably had been taken by SUVs as we could see by the tyre tracks. H, who was trailing, tried his hand at one of them, expecting most probably to surprise us by reappearing all of a sudden in front of us. Turned out that he was in for a surprise. Half way up his bike started skidding on the dirt track. As the ascent was too great the tyres started failed to get a proper grip and hence the bike lost the momentum. He had to get of the bike and push it while giving the acceleration. I had stuck to the road and had reached the point where the track would emerge and D was halfway through up the road. We stood there and waited for him to emerge and discussed whether we should go down and push or will he make it on his own. He was making progress though struggling a bit. Thought of having a photo session by the time he came up. The whole of Sarchu valley and the river running through it could be seen from here. H finally reached. They had a smoke while we stood there admiring the magnificent view from the top. As we moved on with H leading the group, D suddenly disappeared from my sight in the rear view mirror. Waited for him to turn up and he came around the bend after sometime. His gears were getting stuck and that gave us a mini scare. Gear box trouble in the middle of nowhere is not a pleasant thought. We were going down hill so thankfully the bike was still moving. After a few more attempts the gears clicked back and we were on our way once again. Now they just had to behave for the next two days, till the time we reached Leh.
Nakee La pass at 16,250 feet. Wind was howling at this height and the relatively flat top was covered by mini stupas formed of 7-8 flat stones by travelers. Hundresds of such small stupas, a foot or so in height could be seen all over. They most probably had been erected by travelers over ages for safe passage over the pass. I also added a mini stupa for our safe journey.
Lachung La pass at 16,616 feet was relatively closer as compared to the distance between other passes. It also was the last pass before we would be entering my home state- J&K.
Pang finally! The entry into J&K was totally unceremonious. No sign informing us that we are there or a measly signboard proclaiming “Welcome to Jammu and Kashmir” or even “Welcome to Ladakh”. It was as if we were entering the state through a back door or something. I think the only sign was that the road condition improved marginally.
Police check post at Pang was manned by two local idiots. Their only job was noting down the name and registration number of vehicles entering the state from that point. Those two made a mess of such a simple task. Despite my repeating the name and registration number thrice they wrote it all wrong. I gave up on them and went to the the tents put up on the opposite of the road. Around ten tents were put in a line which acted both as restaurant as well as a night stop. Went towards the end and saw an old ladakhi female standing outside “Saajan” tent. There was one large circular tent attached to a similar one behind it. The front tent was the restaurant and the one behind was the one where the beds were placed in a row. There were around 12 beds put along with bedding. I asked how much she would charge if we took the only tent. She said it would be expensive. I asked her how much? After thinking for sometime she said 600 bucks for the whole tent. And I said deal!
We were situated basically on a river bed with barren brown coloured hills on both sides. There was an outhouse around 50 meters from the tent. Bath was out of question because of the sparse living conditions, absence of running water or any water except the river and the sub zero temperature at night. Once the sun went behind the mountains the temperature plummeted at a rapid pace. We were sitting outside on the molded plastic chairs having tea and discussing the events of the day but I moved in once it started becoming cold. H & D went for a smoke while I settled down, all tucked up in my sleeping bag. Had a meager dinner of eggs and magi. The wind was howling outside and the tent flaps were moving in and out like the masts of a ship. Despite the tent being sealed from all side I am sure some wind might definitely be creeping in and adding to our misery. Could not sleep at all, first I thought because of the bitter cold but then I realized that I was not able to breathe. I became severely hypoxic and could breathe only while sitting. Spent the whole night alternating between sitting and lying down. D also seemed to be in the same boat and went out of the tent once or twice but H slept like a baby. And to think he was the one not feeling well in the morning. Threw off the sleeping bag as it was making me feel claustrophobic. Pulled on two thick rajais on top and lay there awake waiting for daybreak.
A miserable end to the ninth day.
Day 10:
The dawn broke ending a night of misery and ill health. Came out of the tent and sat on the chairs outside. The wind was still blowing adding on the wind chill factor but I could not care less. Felt nauseous and dizzy. D also joined me soon after looking all pale and dazed. Went to the outhouse and puked on the way back. Now I knew that I was suffering from AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness). Took an anti-emetic, a paracetamol and hoped for the best. It was much later that I realized that Pang was situated at a height of almost 16,000 feet! An ideal height for mountain sickness. If I would have known that before I could have atleast braced myself mentally for it rather then being caught unawares.
H awoke all fresh and perky! Had a few biscuits and a strong coffee for breakfast as I did not think that I could keep anything else down. Here we were lamenting our fate and there was this solitary cyclist (!) on his mountain bike starting for Ladakh. One had to admire his physical fitness, faith, determination and bravery. There was quite a hustle bustle in the camp as almost everyone was getting ready to be on their way for either Leh or Keylong. A black guy with his white girlfriend was having trouble starting his bullet and our D descended like an angel from heaven. He managed to start the bike and gained their eternal gratitude. All this happened with the minimal of words being spoken. It was as if we were watching a silent movie.
Started for the Mori plains. Our tent owner came out and bade us farewell and a safe journey. Kept on thinking that sooner or later I would regain my composure and everything would become fine. Opened the visor of the helmet so that the wind would reduce my drowsiness to some extent. Was feeling very drowsy and dizzy. Every kilometer was an effort and the uphill road to the Mori plain was not helping matters as the oxygen levels kept on dipping, adding on to my already hypoxic state. The first sight of the plains was like witnessing the opening scene of a mega block buster, sci-fi film from Hollywood. The plains were flat like a table top and ran as far as eyes could see! There was a road circumventing it and running along the mountainside but everyone just ran their vehicles straight through. Imagine five-six trucks running side by side and rushing at full speed. It must have ran around 30-40 kms like this. Bang right in the middle of this straight stretch there was a local person along with his luggage and a small boy asking for a lift! I wondered how anyone could land up there, where you did not see any house or settlement for miles around. Our own Good Samaritan H gave lift to them as we found out later.
As the plain was coming to an end I could see the tarred road in a distance. Just before the plain met the road there was a stretch of sand. I foolishly thought that the bike would go through easily looking at all the trucks rushing through. Initially the bike managed to cover quite some distance with my feet suspended on the sides for balance and support but midway it suddenly started sinking into the sand. Everything happened in slow motion now, or so it felt, the bike which was initially sinking started tilting towards the right. Here I was feeling dizzy, as if I had taken four large pegs of neat vodka, my legs felt as if they were made of rubber and those two were nowhere in sight for miles around. I finally managed to stop the bike from tilting but did not have the strength to pull it back up. I do not know for how long I stood like that, maybe for five minutes or for fifteen but slowly I got my resolve back. Thankfully the engine was still thumping and I just had to pull it up straight. It took sometime but I did it finally- slowly and steadily! Stood rooted at the spot after the bike was straightened, just could not believe that I managed to do it by myself. Crept ahead in the sand, making sure that such a thing would not happen again. So this was the third time that I was in a precarious place in this trip and hopefully the last!
Hit the road and moved on. The road was broken at many places and was replaced by sand stretches. Was very careful while going through these patches. D finally caught up with me a bit ahead of Mori planes. Parked the bikes to wait for H, who had disappeared to drop those two hitch hikers, but we did not know this at that time. Getting off the bike and putting it on the stand was by itself a Herculean task under those circumstances. Walked a bit on the slope and just flopped down on the ground. What is the point of all this? Why am I doing this to me? When will this end? These were some of the questions bombarding me. I just wanted to lump it all and go home. But to go home I would have to get out from there in the first place. And if I would take a lift from a passing truck or bus who would fetch the bike? So again it all came back to getting on the bike. D looked dazed and was complaining of double vision. H finally came and our caravan moved on.
Tanglang La pass at 17,500 feet. The last and the most formidable of all passes stood guarding the ancient kingdom of Ladakh. That is all I wanted in my present condition. It was at a greater height, had snow on the top and the oxygen was scarcer. I was really feeling dizzy and was not even sure if I would be able to keep the bike straight. Every milestone was an achievement and every breath an effort. To add on to my misery H overtook on the way up and waved me to stop. He came parallel and told me that something looked wrong with my bike from behind. I realized that the side carrier on the left side of the bike had almost come out. No wonder I was having difficulty balancing the bike. Under any other circumstance I would have tried to repair it or to tie it with ropes but with my deteriorating condition I just wanted to get rid of it and move on while I still had the strength. H looked horrified when I emptied its stuff, pulled it out and dumped it on the side of the road. H told me to take his i-pod as that might help me concentrate but I refused fearing that the music might make me feel sleepy. Moved on to scale the pass standing up like a wall which I had to cross to regain my health and sanity. I opened the visor and started shouting numbers from one onwards to keep my concentration and to keep my mind from wandering. Anyone coming across me at that point would be amazed to see this guy on a black bike, covered in dust and mud, face red due to the freezing wind, shouting numbers at the top of his voice. Kept an eye on the odometer and every kilometer took me closer to the pass. The fact that it was all downhill from the top till Leh kept me going. I knew that as I move down from Tangla La the oxygen levels would go up and Leh being at around 12,000 feet would be like heaven, as far as oxygen level was concerned, and as compared to the places I had been since the last two days.
Tangla La pass was covered with snow but I did not the mood or the patience to appreciate it. H was busy filming the pass but I just moved away without a word. I just wanted to move away from it and down the valley as fast as possible. There were banks of snow four-five feet high on the sides and I had to be extra careful not to skid on the water seeping out of them. Heaved a sigh of relief once I had come down around 10kms from the top. I had counted till 3000 (starting the shout of whole numbers from one and ending at two thousand two hundred and ninety nine…..3000) till then and was feeling relatively normal and a bit elated to have made it across. A fact that I doubted a few hours back. Crossed the first tent acting like a tea shop as there were too many bikers hanging out there and chatting was the last thing I wanted to indulge in. Kept on moving down the road and came across another tea shop cum canteen being run in an army outpost. Got off the road and parked the bike. Was happy to have made it. Ordered tea and omelets from the guy running the show. Had a mango drink and glucose biscuits till that arrived. After lunch put my feet on a chair, told the waiter to wake me incase he sees two black bikes passing and went of to sleep.
Sleep was deep, carefree and dreamless. I did not give a damn to the safety of my bike or luggage, the uncomfortable position I was sleeping in or to the fact that due to the blowing wind it had become pretty cold outside. Must have slept for half an hour or so. H & D had not appeared as yet. They must have stopped at the first tent. Was in no mood to go back and look for them. I just hoped that D had not lost his balance or anything due to dizziness. Two bikers who I had seen bathing at Baralacha La pass stopped and told me that H & D were waiting for me at the other tent. Was contemplating what to do next when I saw D rushing past. It was futile calling after him as my previous experience at Manali had taught me. H came down soon and did not look very amused to see me lounging over here. Felt all fresh after the cat nap and was raring to reach Leh.
Road had been cut into huge mountain of stone and a gully surrounded by vertical walls running up to a hundred feet was formed. It was bit eerie and claustrophobic riding through these gullies. Suddenly the road opened up and on the opposite side of the road was this towering structure, a sand dune as huge as a hill! I knew that Ladakh was the only other place besides Thar Desert where you could see sand dune, but to land up at one all of a sudden took me by surprise. To behold that sight with the rays of the setting sun shining upon and making the sand glow made it all the more stunning.
The road condition had improved dramatically as soon as we reached the base of Ladakh valley and we were ripping through the countryside now after creeping and crawling for the last two days. D specially was racing as someone possessed and I could only see him on long stretches riding away in the distance.
Came across a group of foreign cyclists on their 10 speed, fiber frame, mountain bikes and full biking gear of headgear, knee & elbow pads etc. A bit further down the road we saw their luxury bus, parked on the grassy bank of a stream, out of which workers were taking out the tents, chairs and luggage. Stones were being taken out of the stream bed for marking the borders of camp fire. This was high life and the way to travel! One of the cyclist’s tyre got stuck in the stone bed of a stream and H helped him pull it out. The tyre got all twisted in this effort. Moral of this story is that even the cutting edge of foreign technology and innovation is no match for our local conditions and infrastructure!
A truck had got stuck in a stream crossing the road. Another truck had come to try to pull it across. They were planning to close the road till the time it was pulled out but the workers seeing me standing there for sometime let me pass before starting. This respect for the convenience of a fellow driver can only be seen in the hills.
Villages of Ladakh valley with paddy fields were a welcome and assuring sight. Now in case of something going wrong with the rider or his bike help would be at hand. Finally got to see Indus in a distance and catched up with D serenely smoking and taking up the view. H soon catched up after assisting the cyclist. We had reached Ladakh valley and our bad stretch was behind us- for now.
Last stretch of the journey went past in zip. Raced towards Leh on the straight sexy stretch of well laid, wide road. Passed Hemis monastery at a distance, which was secluded in the mountains on the left, across Indus. This was the 800th year of the establishment of this monastery so there were yellows banners and flags proclaiming this all over the valley. Closer to Leh we passed below Shey and Thiksae monasteries.
Leh was a sight for sore eyes! The hustle bustle of the market place, the fragrance arising from the different eateries, the warm weather and lungful of oxygen! Parked our bikes and activated my phone with the local sim I had got with me. Went scouting for a hotel to stay after taking off most of jacket, sweater, gloves etc. I had put on. Leh market turned out to be even smaller then what I remembered from my last visit. In twenty minutes you could easily walk around the square block of market place once. Called up my folks in Srinagar to get a location of the hotel we had stayed in last time. That hotel turned out to be fully booked by a chartered tour from Korea but we got a decent room in the hotel next to it. The good point of the hotel was that it was bang in center of the marketplace and the view of Leh Palace from the window was great. Went back to fetch H & D. Started riding wrong way on a one way street but after two days of hardship I could not care less. And this was MY state and if I feel like going down a one way street I will bloody well do so! But obviously the other two did not share my emotions and were aghast and my blatant breaking of traffic rules. Reached the hotel after a great deal of confusion thanks to my stunt. Got the bellboys to haul the luggage and just went and flopped on the beds. There was no current, a common phenomenon in J&K so just sat in silence for sometime. Ordered coffee, the elixir which kept us all going through this trip. Took a bath and changed clothes after three days! My hair had gelled into one solid shape thanks to the dirt and grime. H started the search for his cell phone and we soon came to the conclusion that it has been left behind in Hotel Ibex in Jispa. So whenever any of us would pass through that route in future, we have one task cut out- to go and enquire about the cell at the reception desk of that hotel. H started feeling a bit feverish, either because of the loss or due to exhaustion, that facts are still not clear. We told him to take a parcetamol and rest while the two of us went out to grab a bite to eat.
The tourist crowd at that time of the year is so different from anywhere else in India. There are hardly any Indians as the schools would have opened everywhere by beginning July. And the foreigners you get inn Ladakh are all young, lean and athletic, with plenty of sunburn. Just by looking at them you could make out that they are adventure sports variety. All over there were handbills posted for people interested in joining a seven days trek, ten days trek covering 20-30kms in a day. At such altitudes a walk of a kilometer makes you pant and wheeze.
Thanks to the influx of foreign tourists you get genuine international cuisine at very affordable rates in restaurants all over Leh. We had some chicken sandwiches and packed a burger for H. Current had come back by then so me and D watched some trashy hindi movie on Zee Cinema. H was not amused.
Went out for dinner later. H was feeling a bit better by then. After a brief discussion about the event of the day went to sleep. Day ten and we were finally in Ladakh!
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