Sunny

Day 20 : September 3rd : Leh - Sarchu

Thiksey was the ancient capital of Ladakh with a wonderful monastery perched on top of a rising rock face. Taking quick photographs we proceeded on our long way to Sarchu en route to Himachal, next stage in our GIR exploration.

The relentless rains of the previous day had subsided. The morning was clear, skies blue, and the surrounding mountains were all covered with fresh snow. We breathed in the crisp morning air as rode along the Indus till we crossed and left it some thirty-five kilometers from Leh when we started following roads that left the valley and started climbing the hills, narrow roads, barely with a sprinkling of asphalt just so that we don’t venture off anywhere else on way to climbing the second highest motorable pass in the world, Tanglang La.

I stopped at a village where I saw a family harvesting paddy. The older women folk, who are mostly dressed in the Ladakhi costume, which resembles the flowing monkish robe though with more colours tied around, were cutting the paddy with sickles manually, while the only man that I saw drew horses into the farm and started loading the crop on their backs. The children ran out of the farm towards me asking for toffees.
I continued riding with Sunny. The other two riders had gone ahead with the bike and the backup vehicle. The climb to Tanglang La was pretty steep. Thankfully the roads were really good. And though our vehicles were strained we made good progress. And in the process, once again, my Blaze outperformed Sunny’s Honda and left it behind in its wake.
And once again we came on to snow and ice. I stopped to take photographs. But here the snow was neatly shoveled away from the road and it was clear for vehicles. The winds were strong and the temperature yet again was several points below freezing. I took photographs of pillared icicles formed between a roof of snow on the mountainside and the snow on the roadside.

Almost near the top, I met Ashish, Gasoline, who was hit by a truck and was having difficulty riding. I picked him up and went ahead to go and tell Skyscraper to come and collect his Blaze.

We stopped a short while at the top, braving the winds, seeing some Europeans doing the job on bicycles, trying to warm up a bit and failing and then we moved on. This time we were going downhill. We stopped just a kilometer ahead at a makeshift tent to grab a bite. As we got in, the makeshift tent seemed rather flimsy. It was manned by a Ladakhi who was not too sure of what we wanted. Most of his stuff was well beyond the expiry date. We simply wanted some instant noodles and instant soup. He put a huge saucepan with some water in it to boil.

I looked around the tent. There were some forms which resembled humans covered in thick blankets. I did not venture to ask our host who they were. The wind howled outside and threatened to take the tent away with it. It brought me memories of Tintin in Tibet. Sunny did not have the soup in a bowl like everybody else. He had it straight from the packet, dry, in powder form. I tried it. It tasted disgusting. Once we were through eating, we mounted our bikes and headed down.

As I said before, we were going downhill. The wind was to our backs and the sun on our faces, through the visor of our helmets, it was a pretty gentle feeling after the recent harshness. And in about half an hour we hit what one calls the More Plains of Ladakh. It is like a plateau, about five to ten kilometers broad between two ranges of mountains, and over forty-four kilometers long with the Leh-Himachal road cutting across through these Plains. Anybody monitoring the road from one of the mountains would have spied three red dots and a white pickup speeding across the vast terrain in a hurry leaving behind a slight trail of dust headed towards Himachal. There was nothing here save for an occasional truck every ten kilometers and of course some herds of sheep that speckled the sparse countryside.

Finally we arrived at Pang. Here I lay down on the rocky roadside to take a break. The others got down the cans of petrol to fill the bikes. The long road ahead still lay in front of us. And the roads always beckon to a rider. And in the hills, they don’t need beckoning, they are there for the asking. And so we rolled on.

We had to get to Sarchu before evening. We always have to make it to our destination before evening. And seldom do we make it. But this time we were going to do it. I reached the famous twenty-one hairpin bends of the Gata Loops. Sunny and Skyscraper were way ahead of me. And Gasoline was way behind in the backup vehicle.

Dusk was closing in when I saw the board Welcome to Lahaul Valley, Sarchu, Himachal Pradesh. In the Sarchu Valley, there are several camping settlements. We chose one, bargained hard, got two tents and went to the dinner tent. It was extremely cold. We had hot soups to warm ourselves. Had a hot Indian dinner to kill the chill. Gasoline and Sunny went quickly to their respective tents driven by the cold. Skyscraper went to chase some skirts. I went for a moonlight walk to the gorge at the foothill of the mountain range about a kilometer away. I was all alone in the moonlit night, the wind blowing with gusto, the temperature hovering way below zero. It was a wonderful walk. After a hard day’s riding, some introspecting walking in the plains next to a gushing river in a gorge between mountains 6000 meters high at –10°C close to midnight. Try doing it. It is exhilarating.

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shailendra.malik

Was this trip last year??
Amazing clicks.....
The ice shot with the machine as a distant backdrop is amazing....

Keep sharing the details....

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M@verick @ thought...
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Life's a journey you learn it when u're through... Linking Park
Least I can say I went some place other than office... :P http://picasaweb.google.com/shailendra.malik

ken cool

This was the GIR, the Great Indian Roadtrip!

This was Day20.

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The Wheel was a great invention; Two Wheels with a Motor in between was even better!


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