FW: Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 8

A few birds chirp outside my tent and as I come out, I see butterflies all around, red one's, green one's, the customary yellow with black patches,small one's, big one's ....ahhhh jannat....(aahhh heaven)....
We plan to go to pangong tso today ...the famous lake with its pristine blue waters. The map on Lonely Planet book says we have to cross khardungla and go towards Leh and then head towards changla and to pangong tso but a trekking map says there is an alternate route via Agam and Wari la, which will save us 100 kms. Upon enquiring from army we get to know that the road was built but has been washed away by river shyok. We ask army if they would help us in crossing it and are informed of dire consequences.

Anyways, determined as we were, we plan to take that route no matter what. We are six and can handle anything. Thanks to the indian mentality,'fati bhi hogi to friends ke beech mein nahi dikhatey hain ki fati hai'.

As soon as we start towards Agam we realise what we have decided to get into, no roads and no habitation for kilometers together. nobody, including vultures would know if we died here. There are no signs of roads at many patches and there are free flowing water streams everywhere, some of them are easy to cross like potholes and some are so huge and furious we all have to hold one bike at a time with full strength and cross while keeping ourself stable and forgetting about suffering hypothermia or severe cold feet.
Crossing these water streams, finding our way just by maps and crossing another horrfying high altitude pass Wari la where even the army has abandoned it's post due to the weather and less oxygen we reach a village Shakti from where we are told pangong tso is about 85 kms. After the gruelling and almost killing ride (or call suicide attempt) we reach Tangste about 40 kilometers from pangone tso.
We spend the night here as the sun has set.
Reflecting on the day I realize I should be thankful for being safe and a major thank shall go to Chavi(my bike) for sustaining through.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 7

Recovering from the altitude sickness but suffering from flu now, today we leave for khardungla and nubra valley.
Eating a quick breakfast we started towards khardungla which is the highest motorable road in the world, its at 18700 feet above sea level. At this level the oxygen is so scarce the motorcycle like a bullet has difficulty negotiating the steep climb in first gear. I fiddle with the carburator to let in more air in the engine. With full throttle and quarter clutch, burning the clutch plates we somehow manage to touch. khardungla and congratulate ourself for the torture finally being over. But was it??? Downhill was even more torture.
Sitting behind Abhishek and falling twice, once in water and once on rubble, we reach at the bottom hill of khardung la.
Surviving solely on paracetamols we continue riding through amazingly beautiful and slowly changing landscape. From snow clad mountains we descend towards river bed plains and get into giant red colour canyons and again into river bed greenery and as if out of 'aliice in wonderland' enter desert, desert like real rajasthan desert in the mid of himalayas, from yaks, the traditional animal changes to double humped black camels.
By night 8 we are at Khalsar in the Nubra valley. One bike has gone missing but we are able to find it after a little effort.
We stay at tirith camp, the most beautiful camping site I have ever seen in my life. A little expensive but right out of heaven, our tent is surrounded by exotic wild flowers of the himalayas and the camp is surrounded by snow clad mountains which shimmer gold at sunrise. The area where we dine is a small canopy of trees and apricots and apples fall from the trees. So many of them that people here don't bother to pick them, I pick plenty of them and eat till I am satisfied.
At night we all jumble up and share jokes and I take my last paracetamol for the day and am off to sleep.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 6

Reaching Leh we meet the 6th member of the group, Goldy, who has taken a flight to Leh due to the social pressure from his family considerate of the dangers involved in a motorcycling trip.
Goldy is an amazing guy with great sense of humour, you just love his company and his wit comes alongwith his caring nature. Just looking at this guy makes you smile, dressed in a green pullover and a denim jeans, he is a slightly plump, red cheeked guy similar to Vinay Pathak (a little more plump) from the movie 'khosla ka ghosla', a shy smile, hairstyle of Amir Khan (a little more hairy) from taarey zameen par and torso like Abhishek Bacchan(a little more in inches).

We plan to get the bikes serviced today for the days ahead. Sadly there is a strike due to hike in petrol prices and we have to push the trip to the mechanic to evening. With time in hand now we take a leisure walk to the shanti stupa, a time capsule with sealed scriptures for the future generations.
Back from stupa we head to the mechanic back on the road towards manali, I became extra carefull while overtakiing busses, I didn't want someones lunch over me as I had seen happening with a fellow rider.
With the bikes fixed, we head back to the hotel room and sleep.
Today was just a laid back day.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 5

With severe headache I get up and start the bike and move on. Again at this place we ran out of money and begged from a fellow group a 1000 rupees to pay for the accomodation.
The day has been most easy compared to the journey so far. Just a easy ride and by afternoon we were at Leh.
The road was good and the scenary just out of heaven. The scenary changes slowly from plains to hills to canyons around, the sky looks pure blue with pure white clouds scattered around. The land is barren but the soil has so many colours in it, from dark red it changes to shiny silver hinting the presence of mica in it, to purple like brinjal to brown to black to sometimes greenish....amazing work by god.... No amount of words can describe the beauty here. It can only be felt by one, specially by those who have for some time left behind the frantic hankering for wealth, fame, status and all other adman's fantasies and are unabashed in their love for life, travel and nature.
Occasionally one comes across villages, small old houses with slopy roofs, trees encircling the boundry, the courtyard shining bright orange with corn kept to dry outside, chinese looking faces, yaks, cows, shepherds, women carrying firewood on their backs, children with sunburnt cheeks playing alongside the roads, wheat fields, such laid back life, they have nothing to do with the outside world, they are self 'content', they have nothing but still everything...they are so different than us, we the up-market crowd in our Levis t-shirts, Woodland shoes, Wrangler jeans, Jockey briefcases.

I am especially touched by the Gaddis, the local shepherds. Their nomadism bemuses me. These short, colourfully dressed, benign-looking shepherds are on their way to home and just 4-5 months, they will be out again, winters in the valley, summers in the high passes and this has been their routine for centuries, embodying an old forgotten idea of content. Leading a simple and 'Happy' life.

Leh on the contrary is like any other hill station in India. It has nothing to be written about and I am definately not hurting my thumb punching details about this place on my cell phone writing this blog. No wonder almost every traveller uses this place just as a transit point to the places nearby.
Oh yes... I haven't told you... all this while I wasn't riding the bike but sitting behind a lunatic speedster named Akarsh(I hope he is reading this)....I have reached Leh in one piece and no amount of self congratulation seems enough for this.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 4

The mechanic took a grueling 6 hours yesterday...no,no...not on the bikes, but to wait for the turn. Eventually I had to fix half the bike myself. I realized, The route is a killer and almost 10 bikes at the mechanic shop had only 2 problems, worn out clutch plates and disc brake pads.

Thanks to the mechanic and the weather(it's cold and one doesn't feel thirsty), I get up with a hangover sort of headache. I drink a lot of water and take a tablet to avoid altitude sickness as we will be gaining a lot of altitude today.
Looking at the sky brings some relief and a smile, it's sunny.

A fly hovers around my cup of tea, a begger begs next to me, with one hand I shove away the fly and with other hand make a roll of my parantha and push it down my throat. My rubber gum boot bites me at 2 places and I imagine my feet having blisters like Karishma's on the saurkundi trek.

We are informed that the bridge has collapsed but the BRO (border roads organization) has repaired the road somehow to allow traffic to pass. There is a stream of water about 2 feet high to be crossed to continue towards Leh.

For next few hours it's only nice roads, dry weather and the thud-thud of bullet.
There are many bad patches of roads that we cross, mainly the pain is water crossing where you cross water streams of high speed flowing water about 2 feet high and 10 to 20 meters wide.

We are joined by another british couple who occasionally need our help at the water crossings.

Our target for today is Pang and by 8 pm we are just about 10 kilometers away from it when we see there is a patch of road about 20 meters wide washed away by water. There is a whole river flowing where a few hours ago used to be a road. I try to step in to see how deep the water is and am almost swallowed by the river. The water is only knee deep but the flow is so fast I can't stand there for a second. The water is super super super cold and terrible fast flowing and if this was not all, we are at 15000 feet and oxygen is scarce. Ever blown at an ant sitting on your hand and itching you???? We felt like that....We have just 2 options, cross it risking life or die here of hypothermia.
We park our bikes on this side and form a human chain and one step at a time cross the stream heavily panting and thanking ourself we are alive.
Now all 5 of us grab 1 bike with full force at a time and with slow and firm feet cross the river stream, come back, take the second bike(which almost fell off), come back take the third bike (and everytime my gum boots get filled with ice cold water and I empty them again and again and cry with pain from cold) and this whole process takes half an hour and my feet are numb. They are so numb I can't feel them(those who did saurkundi trek with me will understand) and request my t-shirt to be burnt with petrol to get some heat, unfortunately the match box is wet and the lighter doesn't work due to lack of oxygen...ggrrrhhhh.....I scream out at god for few minutes....
Half dead I reach Pang and like god was listening to my painful groan, there is a stove lit outside the tent we plan to live in. I warm my feet and since I can't feell them, I actually end up burning them a little....
Dinner and sleep, forget about them ..the lack of oxygen is working on us, almost all of us feel all the symptoms of altitude sickness.....including the bikes.... The combustion inside the bikes is half done and this has reduced the bullets to a mere hero-puch at this altitude.
I sleep but with cold feet and difficulty in breathing.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 3

Naggar is a small silent town, I have loved my stay here. It's a little off the map for Indian tourists and one finds mostly foreigners here. Thankfully there are no honeymoon couples, no mall road, no fast food joints, no beggers, no roadside stalls selling shiny trinkets, no glass boxes marked STD-ISD-PCO, no raunchy posters of third grade movies.

It has been raining non stop for last 24 hours, Harish, our local friend says it has never rained so much here, I blame it on the global warming.
It's about 4 in the morning and we have to leave now to reach the desired destination by sunset.
We are now 5 people on 3 bikes.
With sleep deprived and rum rich red eyes we start our bikes and start riding through rain, fog, slush and wind and to add to the irony, Bryan Adams is singing in my ears ''the summer of 69''. There are apple trees like weed here, Almost every 30 seconds I see an apple fallen on the road and want to pick it but nobody else stops.

We plan to reach Sarchu today.

Driving at this time is a pain and like 'cream on my cappuchino', I have 'water inside my jacket'. I have only heard from people about the road to rohtang pass and it sure sounds scary, I will experience it first hand today.

Riding through rain and fog and bad roads we reach a little before Rohtang pass and see trafic piled up. Guess what!!!! There is a land slide and we see a whole hill slowly sliding down in parts on the road ahead. naaahh...if you thought we would stop here.... You are wrong. Like idea out of emptied bottle of whisky, 2 of us decide to stand on either side of the landslide and signal the bike riders to cross in a jiffy to avoid falling rocks. This done, we start again but the road is pure hell now. Imagine this, get one truck load each of water, loose gravel, mud, large rocks, cow dung and some sharp stones and you are asked to ride through this and not just this, on one side you have a deep gorge waiting for you. This was the sort of road we got.
Abhishek has had some 4 falls in just 3 hours of riding. The road is bad and the bikes are taking a toll because of the altitude and the roads or better say 'no roads'.
Ruchir had no idea before starting from Delhi that the trip will be like this and he is extremly unhappy but haa to stick-on with us now. He says .... ''kamino, tumney merey holiday ka adventure banwa diya'' he doesn't know this is just the tip of iceberg.

The exuberant melodious thumping of a royal enfield bullet trudging up the steep roads is the best sound you can hear in the hills.
Slowly but continously and agonizingly riding we reach Keylong and decide to get the bikes fixed upon knowing there is a mechanic here. As we park our bikes, a group of people standing on a corner of the hill facing the road to Leh scream out ...''beh gaya...oye beh gaya'' ...washed away oye washed away ..we ask them ...''what???'' and are told, the bridge has been washed away by a landslide. Awestruck, we look at each other's face not knowing what to say ... We would have been crossing that bridge had we not decided to stop at the mechanic. What did we just do??? Escaped death once again.
Now that the road is closed we stay at night at Keylong in a hotel. This is when we realise we are short of cash because nobody remembered to withdraw cash at Manali. We beg money from fellow riders and promise them to pay at Leh.

Escaped danger at rohtang pass landslide, keylong bridge collapse, begged money from passing by motorcyclists and sweetheart, this is just the begining.
Oh man....what a day!!! I am off to bed like a dead body and later have a dream of being hit by a truck and thrown off the hill into the river ...the whole night I see eagles and vultures hovering over my head.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 1 & 2

Tring tring ... It's my phone. It's 4 in the morning. It's still dark outside, only a faint light of a street lamp enters the room through the tinted glass of the window. It's silent except the noise of the ceiling fan, a dog barks outside, the laptop's blue light blinks every 2 second telling me it's in sleep mode. The room is still scatterred from the packing last night. The bag looks very small for going to ladakh but it has all the things I need. I take the bag and move out silently leaving the door unlocked, they would understand I have left.
I meet Akarsh at 5 in Delhi and start off with a target to reach Manali by evening.
My joblessness doesn't allow me to ride the bike. I am giving the bike on sort of rent for the trip to avoid the petrol and bike's expenses, however this means I get a chance to see the beauty of the valley without worrying about the driving, not a good tradeoff though if you are a motorcyclist.
I meet Akarsh, Abhi, Ruchir and start riding. We have the Indian tricolor on our bikes and seem to be attracting lot of attention.
The roads are good and after a long exhausting ride we reach Naggar (near Manali, where we stop at a friend's place) by night 8. We eat some dinner and are off to sleep.
The next day is also spent in Naggar relishing some local food and a small trip to Manali in the afternoon to buy some essentials for the trip.
Manali has a general purposelesness hung heavy in it's atmosphere. It's crammed, new and ugly.
I am under impression this is going to be a cake walk, only to have a face off with reality later.