Its been three months that i haven't ridden that giant , my brothers muse , his royal en field , but every time i hear any dug dug pass through all i see is glimpses of those lofty mountains and could still breathe the same thin air..
June 2015 is the month when a long wish out of my bucket list seemed possible. My fathers bike was sold when i was in 8th grade, and i have missed it every now and then as a part of my life. i dreamt of riding it , riding fast and woke up with the fear of not being able to stop it.
After years it had a comeback in our lives , a brand new standard royal en-field , bottle green and so powerful , a 500 cc horse! all my wishes of solo travels seemed possible . I always fantasized being on my own in the mountains. Since childhood i had been traveling in Himalayas with family, and the bug had bitten big time.As said "Once a man has found a road in the Himalayas he cant keep away for long "
June 2015 is the month when a long wish out of my bucket list seemed possible. My fathers bike was sold when i was in 8th grade, and i have missed it every now and then as a part of my life. i dreamt of riding it , riding fast and woke up with the fear of not being able to stop it.
After years it had a comeback in our lives , a brand new standard royal en-field , bottle green and so powerful , a 500 cc horse! all my wishes of solo travels seemed possible . I always fantasized being on my own in the mountains. Since childhood i had been traveling in Himalayas with family, and the bug had bitten big time.As said "Once a man has found a road in the Himalayas he cant keep away for long "
My brother was away for a trek, and iron was red hot to strike a hammer , i asked dad to teach me , it was time to high jack big brothers toys . And dad being one of his own kind , he eagerly agreed to both the idea of teaching riding and suggested to participate in one of the toughest Motorcycle rides of the country , called Himalayan odyssey which was to happen right after one month!
One month, that's all i had ! it thrilled me at the same time scared me to death, cause i knew that terrain was not for beginners, amateurs to be precise. so it was time to loaf around on bullet as much as i could, out of choice in fact. From highway we started to colonies in the outskirts of the town to the more sorted and straight roads inside and finally to main markets. Gradually i entered the difficult areas. I was so scared of the crowds initially that i feared i would bump into some one someday for sure. That never happened , but the funnier part was some did collide in each other watching a girl ride . Every day i got back home , i got back with so many stories which my mother almost fainted hearing and my dad funnily relished. I must mention this, if life seems to come to a halt , learn something which you always thought of pursuing. One cannot be the best at it ,but one can enjoy it in the best way possible , its never too late to start something new which you dream t of.
Every single day in thedusty , demented roads around the town turned out to be an exciting opportunity to learn some off roading which was much expected in the ride i had signed up for. That one month i was a traveler exploring my own birthplace . I dared to ride highways too and that to be very often . It is said non learned person is easier to teach then a half learned. It was very much correct in my situation. i had been riding a gear less scooter, activa for ages which has no clutch , both brakes in hand and most importantly was not as fatal in case of a fall as this one was. So in this one month i had to learn to respect this bike, keep myself alert for the new functions and in return get the safety hands first !
At the same time also get acquainted with mud ,slush and off roads provided there was some rainfall in this part of Rajasthan. Learning how to ride on the curvaceous mountains was not possible only in our plain terrain. In this period i made a solo trip to bikaner and explored all the possible roads in a radius of 40-50 km.
At the same time also get acquainted with mud ,slush and off roads provided there was some rainfall in this part of Rajasthan. Learning how to ride on the curvaceous mountains was not possible only in our plain terrain. In this period i made a solo trip to bikaner and explored all the possible roads in a radius of 40-50 km.
Finally the big day arrived . 11th of july 2015 was the flag off date from India gate New Delhi. And it was raining cats and dogs.I had a borrowed gear which was must for such long rides , a proper Armour which could save me from fracturing bones , helmet and the long riding boots. It felt like we were at war, and it was some proud moment with a lot of mixed feelings since i wasnt sure of finishing it ! I chose my rider no as 13 :D .all i thought was to not give up in the middle of it.
1 Fri 10th July Briefing- Delhi
2 Sat 11th July Delhi Parwanoo 276
3 Sun 12th July Parwanoo Narkanda 158
4 Mon 13th July Narkanda Kalpa 213
5 Tue 14th July Kalpa tabo 210
6 Wed 15th July tabo Kaza-Rest Day
7 Thu 16th July Kaza khoksar 141
8 Fri 17th July
9 Sat 18th July Jispa debring
10 Sun 19th July debring Rumtse
11 Mon 20th July Rumtse leh 401
2 Sat 11th July Delhi Parwanoo 276
3 Sun 12th July Parwanoo Narkanda 158
4 Mon 13th July Narkanda Kalpa 213
5 Tue 14th July Kalpa tabo 210
6 Wed 15th July tabo Kaza-Rest Day
7 Thu 16th July Kaza khoksar 141
8 Fri 17th July
9 Sat 18th July Jispa debring
10 Sun 19th July debring Rumtse
11 Mon 20th July Rumtse leh 401
12 Tue 21st July leh Leh via K'Top 80
13 Wed 22nd July Leh
14 Thu 23rd July Leh
15 Fri 24th July leh to jispa
16 Sat 25th July jispa to manali
17 sun 26th july Manali to Chandigarh 1010
Chandigarh to sri ganagangar 350
total 2900 kms approx
13 Wed 22nd July Leh
14 Thu 23rd July Leh
15 Fri 24th July leh to jispa
16 Sat 25th July jispa to manali
17 sun 26th july Manali to Chandigarh 1010
Chandigarh to sri ganagangar 350
total 2900 kms approx
From the very first day onwards my test began . thats what i came for . First ride on NH1 went all soaked under the skin and straight road with raking rainfall. Coming from a dry region i had never faced downpour like this and to add to the pain my riding gear had no liner inside .it was much of an endurance test to bear those showers for continuous 6 long hours . My very first buddy turned out to be rains . The moment we reached NH 22 , and landed on Himalayan express way it was so much relief , for the rain had stopped and the roads welcoming with splendid view .hallelujah!
Next day and days from then on were never easy . Forget straight roads . So my evolving process of a mountain rider had begun. To begin with , in traffic HMV were a task to over take on those curves, those smoky monsters would successfully turn me blind on every single curve . It was time to make a riding buddy, a co rider who could drag me along like a mother holding that little finger. And i could make it to the destination of the day safe though drenched again for the second day . The experienced guys enjoyed however i almost saw myself fall on every turn cursing own self for this heinous folly i d committed putting myself into such a challenge . Was i stupid , or just insane was my self dilemma . Anyhow my breadth got normal in next two days, in which time the topography grandly diversified .
I made sure i bowed every single mountain god, all rocks painted red , green or just name it ! By this time when we were headed to kaaza in the cold desert of spiti valley via narkanda and kalpa i had started riding solo at a constant pace. The only way to be at par with others was to take less halts and just keep riding and riding . No photo halts , no gossip breaks but just maintaining that same slow thrust. I missed my camera every moment i stopped , not carrying it on the bike for all the valid reasons . I could bear a broken bone , but not a broken lens. it was time to see and absorb with my naked eyes . This ride was to put myself together and get focused on the so called Life.I had been beginning with new things not being able to execute them till the end. So this ride was moreover to put an end to the habit of not pushing through till the finish lines. It is so strange that while moving on a motorcycle on empty roads , long stretches, it often felt finding some space in head and heart . it could be too early to say , but it was also a dig into finding the purpose of ones own life.
The uncertain and ever changing climate of this region makes room for unexpected halts and its own designed and destined route . We stayed in night some 41 kms ahead of Kaaza. While we were still struggling for accommodation in packed monastery campus and it was pitch dark, i noticed the sky was awashed with stars. quiet an electrified night ..
Spiti valley is considered not an easy road route. Its a smart thing to start early and cross all the numerous water crossings in that month of July before the day gets hot, else they boil up to not just crossings but almost turn into streams which covers the road in kilometers. I always got chills down the spine thinking of these, and the day ahead was dedicated to many such. It is all in the mind ,that we can overcome a situation or not. My first crossing and i was surrounded by some 50 co riders all on either sides of the nullah to shout instructions which were some loud music to my ears , with numb head. The fear of falling inside a stream with a 500 cc was way too heavy on my thoughts that the moment i entered i lost control and pushed the most deadly combination of both front brakes and clutch together that the tail swished like that of a shark and the next second bike was over me, however the riding gear saved. I got up and decided to ride through it instead of giving it to an experienced rider. If not now then never was the exact feeling. Thats what my father taught , face your fears as soon as possible. I crossed it with an applause ,since most of them knew i was an amateur and it was quiet a step as a rider in given terrain.
That was one moment which made me feel much lighter. I knew what falling was now and dint fear the known enemy as much as i did it as a stranger. The crossing followed many such small and big nullahs and by noon we had crossed the mighty kunjum pass and Baatal mod and entered the worst crossing of them all . As big as a massive runnel running ferociously from the top of the mountain meeting spiti river down below. No sign of roads but only one clue ,no turning back, keep rowing ahead and cross this sea of hurdles! This one was impossible even for the most experienced cause this crossing needed a lot of push along with the rider ride through out its length with ample throttle. One by one all the bikes were pushed through in the similar fashion and the group got scattered. I was lucky to have moved out in time and reached civilization where it was possible to change wet clothes and get food! I would like to mention , in the mountains one should take ones own call wrt personal experience. its better to avoid becoming a liability on others for any reason. A calculation of remaining light, distance and possible available help helped me reach Khoksar with the army guys in time .And from then on i always rememeber there advise to refill fuel tank and stomach where ever it was available.
One week on road , the day ahead was short and pretty much comfortable reason being, the group leading ( of which i was a part )had to wait for those left behind for regrouping. It gave me some time for bike checkup , refueling (tandi being the last fueling station till leh)and also drying clothes! dry gear was a luxury now. Jispa was the night halt with most comfortable hotel room unlike parachute tents and bunker beds. We began next morning together , all geared up for a smoother ride to continue with the same itinerary, but guess gods were still angry. From Jispa all we could reach was Debring , amid-st vast open plains called Morey, more famous for straight 40 km drive and huge mountains flanked on either sides. To reach here one had to cross Baralacha la,Sarchu plains , Gata loops Naki la and Pang ( all the" la " suffixes mean a high mountain pass ).
Pang ,a high altitude army transit camp where people get sick, very sick of high altitude sickness is also a compulsory halt for re-hydrating . Chilling winds , low oxygen levels and narrow deep valley. We were to move ahead but a very dark storm was building up right over our heads. In all confusion whether to keep moving or to stop here for night we started to move and it also started to rain.After almost 2-3 kms i realized i had made such a big mistake of having started at all.I started early so as to maintain pace with the fellow riders. However to my deepest fears i realized i could see no shadow in my rear view and the fast ones were much ahead of me. Going back was equally dangerous as there were landslides on the way which would have by now aggravated because of the rain,it was suicidal to go back i decided to continue..
I knew the 40 km stretch was good road , and little rains could be managed, by now i was riding through a storm , ALONE. The moment the plains started i encountered the most unexpected view of this region . The entire valley was white and opaque . Far off somewhere could i see a light blinking from a bike. I knew i had to just follow that. For a split second i thought if i would collapse here no one would even get to know what happened and the rain looked unstoppable for long. Those spiky droplets were striking my head numb and i could feel dizziness overpowering my senses. I saw an abandoned road roller and thought of finding some cover under it . But still , head functioned and kept moving in the hope of finding riders on the road who could take care of me, could feel my finger tips shrieking with pain.Now my eyes started dipping too. And faintly could i see some bikes parked near a tent. All the riders looked out curiously to see who the hell was riding behind them in such weather and got shocked to see it was a girl. They got me off the bike and since they were X army, rescued me and took control of my poor situation. heil Indian army !
A bright sunny morning and an open valley with hopes of a comfortable ride was the good news. It was a short run up till Rumstse which was on the other side of Tang lang la. Tang lang la , like many other passes of this region is supposedly one of the most notorious pass, where again harsh winds and altitude often hits travelers. However at every pass the gompas need to be bowed at and prayers offered for a safe journey. the moment the pass was crossed an open highland country welcomes you, appearing much like a black forest pastry with the road going down reaching greener pastures and fields and a double rainbow waiting for us a the camp sight. After a brief period of sunshine it was the same repetitive wet schedule , however it was the coldest night away from the Tibetan parachute tents or hotels out in the open with double occupancy tents. To add to the chilling factor the campsite was surrounded by a stream all through.Longest night of the ride indeed .
Finally we reached our actual destination, The old city of Leh, present Mecca of bike riders . Dotted with monasteries and gompas and as vibrant as a bustling town in the plains. Being a global tourist destination it is multi cultural during the season times. From residential Tibetan Buddhists to shia Muslims , it is packed with tourists from Israel and various other backpackers.
All kinds of continental cuisine is available for a foodie given a chance to explore. it is a huge confluence of travelers and adventurists from all over the world. So the exclusiveness of being a rider ends here as we meet various other packs from elsewhere in the country. The roof top restaurants with lounge music and bonfire is quiet a hit and amazing place to relax after a pilgrimage of this kind on the motorcycle. A well deserved rest
Being in leh, its almost mandatory for anyone self driving to accomplish khardung la pass, highest motor able pass at an altitude of 18,380 ft , and the next day was dedicated to the same. Any expedition be it on a four wheeler , or a two wheeler needs to pay tributes here , so did we. Instructions were given at the last check post called southpullu by army for the dangerous climb accompanied with four wheeler traffic and army convoys.
On theK top , one does feel a sense of accomplishment .The road ahead leads to nubra valley which was tempting however time never permits all the desires and there should be some reason to visit again . And after a quick photo session and green tea at the highest cafe of the world, which also was one of the highest Maggie point of the world we hit back to Leh city.
On theK top , one does feel a sense of accomplishment .The road ahead leads to nubra valley which was tempting however time never permits all the desires and there should be some reason to visit again . And after a quick photo session and green tea at the highest cafe of the world, which also was one of the highest Maggie point of the world we hit back to Leh city.
I never imagined i would be riding my own self on those narrow streets of leh which i had visited lot many times before and often admired women riders who would thump the road for a few seconds and take away all the attention.They looked like some goddesses riding a big fearsome cat or something ! Doing it myself to be honest felt so normal.This little ride from one market to another through the tight streets flanked with antique shops and restaurants and travel company offices , with hawkers on both sides felt like some slow mo scene in a film where the protagonist is comfortably numb and giving the best shot. It was time to pack up and turn back towards pavilion. News of strikes in the city in addition to various landslides on Leh Manali highway were airing through out the city. Very fair chances of getting stuck in the valley for another day , but sadly also locked inside the hotel walls as the strike from the taxi union was turning dirty and serious. To be in a place of your dreams and stuck in a hotel is kind of sad. Caged birds we were under the polarized blue skies . I took a short walk in the city to taste the situation, it was bad and it was smart to stay safe in the hotel. Unfortunately some vehicles were reduced to ashes and some stone pelting too. long day ended and by evening it was over.I took out my bike and went to the famous Shanti-stupa which overlooked the city and was one of the most favored sunset viewing points . it was a rosy end to an uneventful day with the sky turning all shades of mauve and pink faring me well.
After an early start from Leh to Manali all i had been thinking of was turning back and spending a few days more in leh . I was not done at all. However it would not have been a smart move to leave mates with whom i was supposed to finish this ride. Some riders were out of leaves, a few got hurt on the way , so had got their bikes packed from leh, others lost patience will the uncertain and ill schedule we were running on and so they flew by air to their respective havens. The large group of 60 was reduced to 24 , so it had moreover become much more important to stick and travel together. And it was a long day ahead straight from leh to jispa . The road was blocked at various spots with numerous landslides , few of them negotiable and others to be waited upon for getting cleared. There was no traffic this time since it was blocked from the other side too . I crossed the same route which i had done three days back in a completely different weather. It was so clear that it looked like some new place bathing in sunlight , capped with fresh white snow ,and roads more rickety than before.
The same Baralacha la and Suraj taal were much more difficult this time as it was late in the evening to cross, it was getting dark and stormy.For me it was very important to keep riding as any minute lost would add to the time when i was to cross the pass which turns fatal during a storm. The entire experience was like that of a film called " 2012" i was almost racing against the advancing dark storm. It was a sigh of relief after reaching the other side of the pass. First time in my life i didn't stop by the prayer flags on a pass.
Reaching the safe route when i looked behind again there was a pair of rainbows still following us on the top . Quiet a contrast it was.Our Ride was nearing its end . Manali was the night halt so a very relaxed start we took. starkly visible difference in temperatures , weather and landscape too. The incline from Khoksar to Rohtang pass is opposite of the tarred road from Manali to Rohtang, reason being tourists generally would halt at Rohtang and go back to manali and only travelers would move ahead from here. After a heavy lunch of rajma chawal at khoksar , the Punjabiyat began from here . it isn't a great idea to eat heavy and ride in the mid day under high sun. Acombination of heavy lunch, very bad road , uphill ride and a dust storm from up above the pass kind of hit me that i fell twice just like that on this road. The regular travelers in SUVs got down only to find out that these funny falls were from a girl intoxicated with food and sleep! Rohtang pass was again a confluence of other many riders who had hired bullets from Manali market and would ride up till here . While getting down with that army of riders somewhere i felt we were way too noisy in that beautiful valley thumping away on the road downhill. As i was nearing the cities all the peace absorbed in the mountains was vanishing away. However the best part was i was still riding , still on the open road, still in a gypsy mode. And home was far away. Unfortunately the worst part of the entire ride was from manali to Chandigarh, the last strech. Bad roads , all transport truck traffic and a big rise in temperature with dust. close to ropar it rained. Monsoons were very much of blessing in this part too. Flat long highways and dark clouds. Had to take a short halt for the rain again. This time i was right next to a huge restaurant called Haveli . i rushed into one of the cafes and removed my helmet. I could sense the coffee sippers were not much comfortable in my presence. I knew i was thirsty with all smoke and dust of the long day and thought it was better to wash my face before and come back again. Wen i looked at myself into the mirror , i swear i could not recognize my own self! water droplets and mud painted a Guerrilla warfare pattern on my face and i looked no less than any combat with all that black gear and long boots.
And then City beuatiful, chandigarh.I keep wondering on the bed in my hotel when would i be able to set out again. And i completely believe if i am so desirous of it i shall do it sooner or later. The best thing that happened to me on this trip was to have my hands of one of the best modes of solo travel , a bike which can be a moving home and a travel buddy. It is rightly said, while you travel in a four wheeler you seem to watch a film, but when you ride through you become a hero of your own film. It does feel so. Its much of a pilgrimage one must take to realize , analyzeones own life if you are a wanderer spirit. It is so important to treat oneself with a trip like this , going out and experiencing it by own self is more important than watching it on tv , social media or hearing stories.
Everyday i see women riding geared motorcycles in my town. Mostly from in and around the villages nearby. Be it out of necessity, but they look much more confident and liberal in their views from the looks on their faces. I must mention that it is a rarity in big cities to see women often riding motorcycles ,so special events are organized and festivals are held for women riders. They are no less than celebrities . I wish a gathering could be held or some communication be made just to at least find out how many are actually doing the unusual act in a very casual way in my small town where its a common sight to see women with covered salwaar suits and head covered and also riding. And there thoughts and stories be heard as riding has been quiet an expression of our freedom and hapiness unlimited!
Everyday i see women riding geared motorcycles in my town. Mostly from in and around the villages nearby. Be it out of necessity, but they look much more confident and liberal in their views from the looks on their faces. I must mention that it is a rarity in big cities to see women often riding motorcycles ,so special events are organized and festivals are held for women riders. They are no less than celebrities . I wish a gathering could be held or some communication be made just to at least find out how many are actually doing the unusual act in a very casual way in my small town where its a common sight to see women with covered salwaar suits and head covered and also riding. And there thoughts and stories be heard as riding has been quiet an expression of our freedom and hapiness unlimited!
