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Day 3: Zinging, Swinging and Humbling
A Fauji is expected to be on time. Not our Negi. The holiday mood ensured that he dragged himself out of bed only at 7:30. A quick conference followed.
Destination for the day: Pang. Or Sarchu at a bare minimum.
Needless to say, doing the morning chores with freezing
water was an experience best not shared. Met up with a few bulleteers who said that they had been stuck there for two days. It was drizzling again and they were in no mood to leave the warm comfort of the blanket. Bah! we
were not to be stopped. We had a pass to cross, Baralach la.
When half of your luggage is wet and the other half soiled, dressing up isn't much of a problem. The choice is between wet and dirty or damp and dirty.
Inadvertantly, we ended up packing a nail cutter which belonged to the land lady(we came to know that only in Leh) So guys, if you ever end up in Koksar, do gift that lady a nail cutter and send our regards. Keep her rants to yourself.
We started at 0830 hrs and the damp and dirty part of our luggage became wet and dirty pretty quickly. There, everything was even and wet. The roads were nice with some little rocks strewn about. Pagal Nallah was on my mind. We came across this little muddy stream and some slush here and there. Was that it! A crazy thought came and went by, lets wait till it gets difficult
A photo was in order. Ok! make that two.
Our pilot was far away, out of sight. Tandi petrol pump was our
next stop. Saw the board below and reflected.
For many years i had dreamt of filling up petrol here and here i finally was, being ripped off for Rs 70 a liter. Nah! bless the guy, we didn't need to carry any additional fuel. Still, we took a liter as precaution.
The karizma was having its clutch plate issues again. Sometimes, it would come to a dead stop. Mentally, i was already strangling the mechanic who had boasted that the plates were as good as new. Keylong was a long way off. When the going got tough, the clutch got going and Mr Pilot was zooming ahead again.
Ramkys map had pointed out that a mechanic was available in Keylong and he was our only hope.
"karijma kaa clutchplate nahi hai... Ek hai hero hondaa kaa.. woh chalegaa kyaa"-- said the disinterested Mr keylong mechanic. No thankyou, can you please just tighten the chains and oil it. (nah! i wasn't that courteous)
An Airtel PCO seemed to beckon "Har ek parent (and in laws) zaruri hota hai" I sent wifey to do the dirty work and explain to the worried set that we would be out of network for a few more days
Beyond Keylong, the landscape was extremely pretty.
A mish mash of brown, green, white and water. We negotiated this particularly dangerous patch of road(almost 3 km) where the nallah was flowing on the road. We were tired after the extreme adventure the day before and didn't enjoy this fresh challenge much. But then why miss a good photograph.
Jispa was beautiful. Next time, this was definitely gonna be my night
stop. We stopped for tea at Darcha. This little police inspector thoroughly scanned our luggage, our gear and our helmets. A few toffees changed hands and we were let off. So much for LokPal :-P
The Darcha to Baralachla section is a riders delight. Nice roads with only a few bad patches, stunning landscapes and a pitter patter of rivulets and streams to keep you busy.
Met a few riders who were coming from the other side. Turns out that baralachla had been opened just that morning(another benefit of ignoring the locals who said that it was closed) and was doable though snowing. This warmed our hearts even though my left hand fingers were getting a bit cold. Halfway into the baralachla climb we regrouped and decided on a halt at zing zing bar. The rain was beating down heavily when we finally got to this lovely tent.
Ah! awesome. Tea was served and the lunch menu was too good to resist. Mutton and rice or rajma and rice. Just wow! The cooker and its steam was used for drying our gloves and balaclava.
The beds around and the blankets looked enticing and comfy. A lazy thought came up, lets stop there only.
"Sir bathroom toh nahi hai.. open hi hai sab" said the guy. Nah! lets just stick to mutton and rice. The meal in itself was awesome and the best we had over the course of the ten days on the move.
Moving ahead, baralachla was just awesome.
Soon, the familiar snow on the road situation came up and we had to carefully negotiate and stick to following tyre marks. The drizzle had turned into a storm. Loose rocks were falling down from the mountain side and onto the road. A few small ones hit the bike but no damage done. Visibility was down just to a few meters. Somewhere we could make out a pond kind of thing. Trust me, when you face this kind of situation, you just make a run for it. Photography is the last thing on your mind. My left hand finger tips had gone completely numb and i wasn't even able to move them properly. A few kilometers like this and we observed that the road gradient changed. We were descending and had crossed the top!
Visibility was so low that we couldn't see any stone marking or prayer flags. I was a bit disheartened at a missed photographic opportunity but was more concerned about my fingers.
At the base of the pass, we got to this lovely dhaba.
A fleeting blue patch
The stove and the tea are lifesavers in this part of the world. Some officials who were in a gypsy told us of a bus that had fallen off somewhere near keylong. 15 people dead. Beyond sheer beauty of this place, real danger lurked at every turn.
We got the info that the sarchu to pang section was in a bad condition. Just the day before, it had been cleared and would take a long time to cross over.
So, Sarchu was going to be our stop for the day. The ride to Sarchu was leisurely.
Crossed many 9 tonner bridges like this
But there was nothing leisurely about Sarchu. It is one of those places which makes a believer out of an atheist. No amount of science can ever explain the incredible topography and the sheer beauty of that place. It had to be Gods' hand.
Some pics
Riding on the Sarchu plains was a deeply immersing experience. Checked out one of the many tents dotting the plain. 4k for two tents, Non negotiable! There were hardly any people around there and yet the guy refused to budge.
I knew that across the bridge, cheaper accomodation was available. So we moved ahead. At the police checkpost, wifey registered our names. The police
man on duty, realizing that it was a girl inside the helmet and the riding gear, asked "Shauk hai yaa craziness hai" Wifey just smiled.
The tents at the small settlement had 8 beds each and the owner asked us to pay for all 8 if we wanted some privacy. NAh! no can do. Can do with a tin shed contraption with lots of holes and 8 beds for 1200 bucks! Good
for putting our gear away, i reasoned. Toilets please!. "Sir ji.. poora sarchu toilet hai" Duh! He pointed out at a few rusted tin sheets, just 4 feet high on three sides and two feet on the fourth side and said, "Woh rahaa toilet" No shed, barely any privacy. Also, the small matter of the fourth vital side having an awesome view of the valley. Anyway, it wasn't as if we had
much options.
As the night set in, we popped in a diamox each.
The headstrong fauji wasn't playing along. No diamox for him. Great! the last thing you need in a war is a panting, headstrong, light headed fauji. But then this wasn't war, just Sarchu at 15000 feet.
The tent that wasn't our accomodation
A chain smoking trucker regaled us with his tales, half gibberish for sure. Also that time when he was slipping into unconsciousness while driving and then with a herculean effort popped in three diamox pills. Instant relief, is what he said. I did notice that my breathing was faster. Also, any extra physical exertion was taking a toll on us. No electricity for us, just candle lit dinners. Finally, at ten at night, we lay down in bed. My breathing was getting faster and i was shaking in the cold.
Eleven at night: The rain picked up, and so did the wind. The multiple gaps in the tin shed invited the cold mountain air in while the rain seeped in too and started wetting a few beds. I was shaking violently and breathing very heavily now. The pitter patter of rain on our shed had turned into a deafening roar now.
We were in for a long night.
A Fauji is expected to be on time. Not our Negi. The holiday mood ensured that he dragged himself out of bed only at 7:30. A quick conference followed.
Destination for the day: Pang. Or Sarchu at a bare minimum.
Needless to say, doing the morning chores with freezing
water was an experience best not shared. Met up with a few bulleteers who said that they had been stuck there for two days. It was drizzling again and they were in no mood to leave the warm comfort of the blanket. Bah! we
were not to be stopped. We had a pass to cross, Baralach la.
When half of your luggage is wet and the other half soiled, dressing up isn't much of a problem. The choice is between wet and dirty or damp and dirty.
Inadvertantly, we ended up packing a nail cutter which belonged to the land lady(we came to know that only in Leh) So guys, if you ever end up in Koksar, do gift that lady a nail cutter and send our regards. Keep her rants to yourself.
We started at 0830 hrs and the damp and dirty part of our luggage became wet and dirty pretty quickly. There, everything was even and wet. The roads were nice with some little rocks strewn about. Pagal Nallah was on my mind. We came across this little muddy stream and some slush here and there. Was that it! A crazy thought came and went by, lets wait till it gets difficult
A photo was in order. Ok! make that two.
Our pilot was far away, out of sight. Tandi petrol pump was our
next stop. Saw the board below and reflected.
For many years i had dreamt of filling up petrol here and here i finally was, being ripped off for Rs 70 a liter. Nah! bless the guy, we didn't need to carry any additional fuel. Still, we took a liter as precaution.
The karizma was having its clutch plate issues again. Sometimes, it would come to a dead stop. Mentally, i was already strangling the mechanic who had boasted that the plates were as good as new. Keylong was a long way off. When the going got tough, the clutch got going and Mr Pilot was zooming ahead again.
Ramkys map had pointed out that a mechanic was available in Keylong and he was our only hope.
"karijma kaa clutchplate nahi hai... Ek hai hero hondaa kaa.. woh chalegaa kyaa"-- said the disinterested Mr keylong mechanic. No thankyou, can you please just tighten the chains and oil it. (nah! i wasn't that courteous)
An Airtel PCO seemed to beckon "Har ek parent (and in laws) zaruri hota hai" I sent wifey to do the dirty work and explain to the worried set that we would be out of network for a few more days
Beyond Keylong, the landscape was extremely pretty.
A mish mash of brown, green, white and water. We negotiated this particularly dangerous patch of road(almost 3 km) where the nallah was flowing on the road. We were tired after the extreme adventure the day before and didn't enjoy this fresh challenge much. But then why miss a good photograph.
Jispa was beautiful. Next time, this was definitely gonna be my night
stop. We stopped for tea at Darcha. This little police inspector thoroughly scanned our luggage, our gear and our helmets. A few toffees changed hands and we were let off. So much for LokPal :-P
The Darcha to Baralachla section is a riders delight. Nice roads with only a few bad patches, stunning landscapes and a pitter patter of rivulets and streams to keep you busy.
Met a few riders who were coming from the other side. Turns out that baralachla had been opened just that morning(another benefit of ignoring the locals who said that it was closed) and was doable though snowing. This warmed our hearts even though my left hand fingers were getting a bit cold. Halfway into the baralachla climb we regrouped and decided on a halt at zing zing bar. The rain was beating down heavily when we finally got to this lovely tent.
Ah! awesome. Tea was served and the lunch menu was too good to resist. Mutton and rice or rajma and rice. Just wow! The cooker and its steam was used for drying our gloves and balaclava.
The beds around and the blankets looked enticing and comfy. A lazy thought came up, lets stop there only.
"Sir bathroom toh nahi hai.. open hi hai sab" said the guy. Nah! lets just stick to mutton and rice. The meal in itself was awesome and the best we had over the course of the ten days on the move.
Moving ahead, baralachla was just awesome.
Soon, the familiar snow on the road situation came up and we had to carefully negotiate and stick to following tyre marks. The drizzle had turned into a storm. Loose rocks were falling down from the mountain side and onto the road. A few small ones hit the bike but no damage done. Visibility was down just to a few meters. Somewhere we could make out a pond kind of thing. Trust me, when you face this kind of situation, you just make a run for it. Photography is the last thing on your mind. My left hand finger tips had gone completely numb and i wasn't even able to move them properly. A few kilometers like this and we observed that the road gradient changed. We were descending and had crossed the top!
Visibility was so low that we couldn't see any stone marking or prayer flags. I was a bit disheartened at a missed photographic opportunity but was more concerned about my fingers.
At the base of the pass, we got to this lovely dhaba.
A fleeting blue patch
The stove and the tea are lifesavers in this part of the world. Some officials who were in a gypsy told us of a bus that had fallen off somewhere near keylong. 15 people dead. Beyond sheer beauty of this place, real danger lurked at every turn.
We got the info that the sarchu to pang section was in a bad condition. Just the day before, it had been cleared and would take a long time to cross over.
So, Sarchu was going to be our stop for the day. The ride to Sarchu was leisurely.
Crossed many 9 tonner bridges like this
But there was nothing leisurely about Sarchu. It is one of those places which makes a believer out of an atheist. No amount of science can ever explain the incredible topography and the sheer beauty of that place. It had to be Gods' hand.
Some pics
Riding on the Sarchu plains was a deeply immersing experience. Checked out one of the many tents dotting the plain. 4k for two tents, Non negotiable! There were hardly any people around there and yet the guy refused to budge.
I knew that across the bridge, cheaper accomodation was available. So we moved ahead. At the police checkpost, wifey registered our names. The police
man on duty, realizing that it was a girl inside the helmet and the riding gear, asked "Shauk hai yaa craziness hai" Wifey just smiled.
The tents at the small settlement had 8 beds each and the owner asked us to pay for all 8 if we wanted some privacy. NAh! no can do. Can do with a tin shed contraption with lots of holes and 8 beds for 1200 bucks! Good
for putting our gear away, i reasoned. Toilets please!. "Sir ji.. poora sarchu toilet hai" Duh! He pointed out at a few rusted tin sheets, just 4 feet high on three sides and two feet on the fourth side and said, "Woh rahaa toilet" No shed, barely any privacy. Also, the small matter of the fourth vital side having an awesome view of the valley. Anyway, it wasn't as if we had
much options.
As the night set in, we popped in a diamox each.
The headstrong fauji wasn't playing along. No diamox for him. Great! the last thing you need in a war is a panting, headstrong, light headed fauji. But then this wasn't war, just Sarchu at 15000 feet.
The tent that wasn't our accomodation
A chain smoking trucker regaled us with his tales, half gibberish for sure. Also that time when he was slipping into unconsciousness while driving and then with a herculean effort popped in three diamox pills. Instant relief, is what he said. I did notice that my breathing was faster. Also, any extra physical exertion was taking a toll on us. No electricity for us, just candle lit dinners. Finally, at ten at night, we lay down in bed. My breathing was getting faster and i was shaking in the cold.
Eleven at night: The rain picked up, and so did the wind. The multiple gaps in the tin shed invited the cold mountain air in while the rain seeped in too and started wetting a few beds. I was shaking violently and breathing very heavily now. The pitter patter of rain on our shed had turned into a deafening roar now.
We were in for a long night.
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