Now
our trip to the Himalayas would never be truly complete if we didn’t take a
picture of all of us bowing down in front of our machines, a pose that has
become synonymous with Indian biking in recent times but one that marked the
respect that we had for our partners in crime over the last week and a half. It
was ironic in so many ways because the Bullet stood for everything that I never
understood, a supposedly nostalgic approach to biking that covered the fact
that the bikes were too big and suffered from insufficient braking and used
technology that was contemporary when my dad was my age. And yet there I was,
knowing that despite the fact that my modern small capacity Japanese motorbike with
its razor sharp cornering abilities and stop on a dime braking would remain the
bike for me, I would leave the mountains with a new found respect for the grand
old lady.
Distance
wise we didn’t really have to cover that much but the imposing Baralachala pass
needed to be crossed and we would also encounter the beautiful Suraj Vishal
taal (roughly translating to the Lake of
the Sun God) on the way. Now that we had mastered long distance riding, the
initial riding effort for the day seemed to be fairly non strenuous and just as
we were starting to enjoy the riding we pulled up for a break at the same blue
tarpaulined place that had offered so much relief to us when we had started our
trip.
Bear
in mind this was the same place where my eyeballs took a massive beating with
the revelation of the strangely coloured socks earlier so I was careful to keep
my line of sight strictly above everybody’s knees this time. To add to the problems,
I had to occasionally resort to lip reading because my ears were ringing from
the continuous drone of the loud exhaust and hence I used to miss half the
things people would say but trust me, lip reading isn’t easy when your poor
eyes keep seeing strange colours at odd times.
“Take It easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
don't even try to understand
Just find a place to make your stand
and take it easy”
Take It Easy – The Eagles
What a difference the span
of a week made. The last time we were here, most of us were suffering from
exhaustion and altitude sickness and many just curled up and slept for a while.
Today though we were itching to ride, not wanting to spend too much time
sipping hot tea and twiddling out thumbs. With minimal traffic, the pass as
such didn’t have any surprises for us this time around and we enjoyed riding
through it and stopping at the lake for a quick round of pictures.
Once again what a difference the span of a week made. The first time we were here we just couldn’t take enough photographs. Now it seemed as though nobody wanted to click any pictures as we had already seen this and so much more and were seemingly tired of clicking endless pictures of mountains and streams and lakes and snow and traffic and bikes and gorges (or were they canyons? I will never know, will I?).
We
came across Anu and a big group of foreign riders that he was now leading at
the lovely pool we had encountered on day 3. Despite having ridden with and
interacted with the man for just a handful of days, all of us were genuinely
happy to see him once again and we just had to take a bunch of photos with him
before we parted ways again. Our trusty mechanic would now be going along with
this new group and we bid farewell to him as well. We had a marvelous time
riding at the back with him and the driver from Tso Moriri and all the stops to
fix the bike had meant that we shared a connection that was difficult to
describe.
On the other hand, given
the seemingly super human capabilities of my pillion (who obviously feigned ignorance on the whole matter) I was hoping
that nothing else would fall off though to be fair they did have another mechanic
for the return leg. On second thoughts there wasn’t much left to fall off the
bike, I was now left with only the seats, the engine and the tyres while the Lady who could single handedly break down a Bullet walked around with a halo above her head. We also noticed that some of the
foreign riders had taken the opportunity to take a dip in the pool which was thought
provoking given that we hadn’t had showers for the last two and a half days since
there was no hot water at any of the tents but here they were jumping in at the
sight of clean (and might I add bitterly
cold) water. This is what it looks like when one group of riders is going one way and another group is going the other on a mountain road.
The
riding wasn’t without it’s fair share of drama though as we had to cross
numerous streams that were quite deceptively devious in sections and it took a bit of
faith to ride through with no idea of the actual depth and presence or absence of
stones, pebbles and jagged rocks under the innocuous dirty water. Back in
Bangalore I used to shudder at the very sight of a small puddle of water on the
roads and took so many precautions to go around the tiny water body
that passersby would have been forgiven if they thought that there was a small crocodile
lurking somewhere in it. Here’s us riding through the first of many streams,
notice my pillion’s bright yellow helmet and orange waterproof cover for her
bag, another thing which probably caused some of my temporary blindness!
Well
the streams just kept getting deeper and more difficult to cross, this one in
particular even managed to get our seasoned guide Boney to fall off his bike in
front of us. If you have been patient enough to read all my posts so far (well hats off to you, even I fell asleep
reading my travelogue last night but that had more to do with exhaustion that
lack of quality content, I swear!) you should check this video of the
second half of our group barreling their way across the stream. I also just
noticed that all the riders in our group got the women pillions across without
a hitch while the lady on the left of the video who belonged to another group preferred
to walk than leave it in the hands of the biker in question.
We
stopped for lunch soon and I led the group as we trooped into the small
restaurant to find astonished stares from all the ladies and girls inside, each
and every single one having stopped their eating to drop their jaws and look at
us as though we had just landed from another planet. Well I hadn’t removed any
of my gear so they could’ve been forgiven for their reactions and I even said
out aloud, “Greetings, we come in peace”
but not one single person even broke into a smile. Not wanting to give them
perpetual nightmares we walked out and had our lunch at the tables outside where
we got strange stares from the women folk as they left the restaurant. True
story. The tarmac that we were treated to after lunch was fantastic but we reached
out hotel within ten minutes or so and after lazying around on the swings for a
while we were glad to hit the showers as we tried to the get the cumulative mountain
dirt of the last few days off ourselves.
After
freshening up we waited for tea to be served and were treated to another round
of snacks by My favourite couple of all
time that had ferried it all the way from Bangalore and across the mountains.
How could you not love a couple that travels with their favourite food items? With
just one more day of riding, it was time to collect all the photos and did the
total number of photos exceed my wildest expectations or what? With over 9400
pictures, I dreaded coming back to Bangalore and going through all of them
before I would start writing about the trip. I was sure my fingers would fall
off just from clicking the Next button to view each of the photos.
We
decided to try some games, this time mercifully of the non-physical kind and
first up was a game of verbal volleyball that involved name calling instead of knocking
an actual ball around. Despite knowing everyone so well, we ended up struggling
with names when it came down to passing control within the team and sending it
across with the limited time and soon we learnt the art of looking at one person
but calling the other’s name and other little nifty tricks to confuse the
opposition. A simple enough game that was surprisingly truckloads of fun.
Next
was a game of police and killer that had the group sit around in a circle
facing each other and while they all bent over and closed their eyes, the game
organizer would walk around and tap the designated police guy once and the
killer twice while the rest of the group would be untouched. With this done,
the group would sit normally and it was left to the killer to knock off the
group by winking at them one by one (which
they would then announce) while the police would have to try to guess who
the killer was. It’s a great game for large groups and since nobody knows who
the cop or the killer was, you could thrash talk your way through the game to
throw everyone off your scent and / or just for kicks. Once again massively entertaining and we even
had instances where people wrongly claimed to have been killed only so that
they could leave the game and go grab a jacket from their room because it
was too cold outside!
After
dinner we all gathered around in one of the rooms to share our experiences and
to borrow a corporate term, key takeaways, from the last ten days and it was a
cauldron of thought provoking moments, hilarious incidents, personal challenges
and raw emotion that had us in everything from contemplative moods to rolling
on our sides while trying to stop the laughter from hurting. Honestly, though I
didn’t know it earlier, this sit down session was the final piece of the puzzle
that we needed to make our pilgrimage to the Himalayas complete before we
returned to the real world.
Click here for Day 11 - Jispa to Manali
Click here for Day 11 - Jispa to Manali
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