I know re. The actual chapter is longer. I'm just doing it in parts so I have some sense of accomplishment. Bit unwell (make that very unwell), so SLOW SLOW thought process. Which is why I'm doing it in parts to make it easier on myself. Still writing. Long night ahead ;-)

What happened to you man? I hope you get well soon.

and yes, very short write-up (but no less than Awesome) of the big fun We had

As they say, "Expectations are high."

Section 3: The Journey > Chapter 32: Road to Chang La (part II)

June 10, 2010

Our options lay bare, our glasses half full. For one path to Nubra goes via Khardung La - a path we dare not re-scale. The other lies disconnected from our destination - uncertain in its resolve to re-establish ties. We devour an unending stream of golden omlettes, guzzle coke and tea, discuss options - of which there seem to be none at the present moment. But the hangover of the bravado from the night prior propels us to create alternatives. It would appear that the logical choice is to inject a healthy dose of certainty into our plans and the only certainty we know off now is that Khardung La lies open for scaling. To do so, we must leave swiftly and begin the climb early, for we have already experienced its wrath as the sun sets. We will have to undo our progress for the day and redo that which came close to wiping us out a few days prior. Spiderweb seems ill at ease with the option, but given the lack of choices in our present situation, yields to its demands.

We begin winding up. Drifter heads out for a stroll intending to scour our options one last time. He will return in all of five minutes to the clock, impassively proclaiming that the bridge has been fixed, the road to Chang La lies open. His callous demeanor throws me off; I do not believe him. But as we exit the eatery, we witness vehicles kicking up dust, huddling towards the check post. Drifter's words ring true. Chang La lies open to scaling.

We remount our steeds throttle up and melt into the madness. The first four of our steeds blaze on through. We, RomeoMike and I, are waved down by an jawan who needs to see our permission slips. As RomeoMike begins to slow down, I notice the jawan is distracted by larger vehicles. I gesture "Keep riding". RomeoMike nods. We blaze on through and catch up with the others.

The road glistens, it's alloyed content reflecting sun beams like tiny diamond studs. It's a bizarre sight. I take a closer look at the tar. All I see is my ignorance for I do not understand its contents.

I'm tempted to panic today. For we have been warned of Chang La, purported to be the third highest motorable vehicle pass in the world, Khardung La, being the highest. We've heard tales of its notoriety. We've been assured of spills and then some. The Khardung La chapter has further exacerbated my prophecy of doom. We ride huddled together as a gigantic mass of men and metal. Our fear is palpable. We don't have to ride long before we begin the ascend to Chang La.

As we begin our ascend, I wait for Chang La's wrath. At every twist, I fear the worst. But the worst never comes. The puddles seem disinterested, the potholes, indifferent, the snow, uninspired, all beautiful and serene.








I notice one other band of boys yielding two wheelers approaching us from the twists below; a medley of Pulsars, lead by a Comet. They gain on us and ride alongside. Spiderweb is notoriously competitive in all matters biking. He will not let them gain on him. I see the throttle levels rise. Motorbreath follows close. It would appear that Vishal's progress has dwindled down to a drizzle. There's little chance of our matching strides with Spiderweb and Motorbreath. Romeo Mike signals me to move on ahead; he will tail he gestures. Relieved of my responsibilities, I throttle up and blend in with Motorbreath and Spiderweb. As throttles run high, we struggle to keep our steeds in balance. In the moments to follow, we put a lot of distance between ourselves and the three, with Comet & Co. close on our heels. Occasionally the Comet will pass us, only to drop back to rejoin its troupe.



And without event, Spiderweb, Motorbreath, I, alongwith Comet & Co arrive at what we presume is our destination. A gate of rock and stone, Lung Ta prayer flags strewn across. We question the absence of boards announcing our arrival at Chang La, but Comet & Co inform us of their belief that no such board exists. We are skeptical of this claim, but take a few photographs just to be safe. With introductions made and cameras reinstated into their protective jackets, we resume our ride. Chang La was easy - and lackluster, I think to myself.

We don't ride long before we realize our folly. A large board announces our arrival into Chang La, the real Chang La - not the "smaller pass we assumed incorrectly to be Chang La" Chang La. The view is stupefying. Tents, bathrooms, signboards, prayer flags, a slew of jawans and tourist vehicles - this place was buzzing with activity. Spiderweb and Motorbreath get down to business, pixellating every nook and crany.








I will spend only moments with them before heading in the direction of the lavatory. The omlettes did not sit well with me. I reek and must relieve myself of the unmentionables. I search wildly for my stock of toilet paper but to no avail. Somewhere, in the twisties of Chang La, a lone stream of toilet paper awaits its destiny. The door marked "Gents" is soldered shut by snow. From the "Ladies" arrives my angel in disguise for she will gladly lend me toilet paper. After much trepidation, I relieve myself. Trepidation for I have forgotten to take off my knee guards. Sitting there, with my jeans pulled half way down, squatting over an Indian style shit pot, my bionic knee guards shoved deep into my chin, I can't help but laugh at the state of affairs.

I exit the lavatory much to the amusement of others waiting in line. It would appear that the Universe still fuc ks with me from time to time, for as descend into the snow to readjust my knee guards, a micro avalanche behind me pushes snow deep into my posterior crevices. The snow melts on impact and I'm left with a soaking wet underwear. I don't have spares no more. I'll need to get new ones before my hind skin peels off.

I've returned just in time it would seem, for the trailing three have joined us several moments ago and reunited, they prepare to begin the descend. An information board educates us on the do's and dont's on high altitude. One of them suggests No Smoking. RomeoMike and Motorbreath will light up cigarettes just a few feet away from it, read it and laugh their heads off. As they put out their buts and mount their steeds, I run in for a shot of herbal tea provided free of cost to all patrons, courtesy, the Indian Army. I thank them with all my heart and rush out to join the others.

The descend is as uneventful as the ascend. Except for a few scares from a dense doze of mist, we suffer no harm. Motorbreath, Spiderweb and I that is. For as always, the three trail at a significant distance and unknown to us, Romeo Mike hits black ice resulting in his steed losing precious ground. Vishal and Drifter will rush to his rescue and they will continue the journey without any further event. Romeo Mike will escape unhurt; his steed will bruise around the foot peg as it dangles for relevance.

We halt at an army outpost at the foot of Chang La looking for warmth and tea. They do one better, a tent to ourselves and chicken clear soup. I down two bowl fulls. Our host is an army canteen boy in his late 50's. A keen listener, he chimes in with helpful advice every now and then. It is he who suggests we spend the night at Tangtse and head to Pangong Tso on the day next. He warns us; the freeze in Tangtse will be more brutal than anything we've experienced so far. I laugh at the thought. If only he knew what Khardung La did to us.

With bellies full and some semblance of sanity, we hasten to make our exit. We thank our host for his hospitality - he thanks us for our company. As we begin to remount the machines, little pellets of snow come hailing down. The clank of their impact with the machine makes me nervous. Engines begin to roar all around me. We're en route once more...

You know what...
i used your log to convince two friends of mine to join me on ride to leh...
thanks for working your magic

Ha ha ha ha wonderful! Glad its serving a practical purpose! All the best with the preps and do keep blogging (in whatever format youre comfortable with) so that I, along with the rest of the guys here, can live your experience as well!

Will blog for sure...
but now that we have started penning down the actual ride i am gripped by a sense of fear and restlessness....
As you might know that while planning for a ride we often ponder over things that could go wrong and some scenarios discussed sure have unsettled me...
anyways i gotta do it and i will....
just hope that i survive to tell the tale

@Alankar.. you always remember not to do away with your knee-guards, dont you?

I know maaaaaan!

Section 3: The Journey > Chapter 33: Of marriages and moments

June 10, 2010

I'm at home with the terrain now. It shows me no malice - its diversity, an opium to my oxygen starved brain.




































An endless sky, wrapped in blue and gold witnesses our advance. We will ride long; without consequence, without a care.

We halt briefly for tea. Our hostess takes to me like a bee to honey. For she will ask me why I sport no wedding ring. "Isn't it obvious?", I quip. She asks me of my woman. I inform her that I have none. She remarks that perhaps I should take home with me a Ladhaki girl. I state that I'm prepared to but haven't met any one of interest. Perhaps I lie, for my heart remains within the confines Leh, in a little place called Dolphin.

I never said goodbye - merely left a big tip and a hope that I will someday return.

Or perhaps I do not lie. Perhaps I would have done more had I had any real interest. Or perhaps... the hostess breaks my reverie, recommending that I take one from her own village for they consider me worthwhile. I realize she jests, for my wives-to-be are in their early sixties. Much too ripe for a man of thirty-three. The conversation continues without direction.




She reminisces her time spent working in a Delhi call-center. When asked why she left, she raises her child into my viewport. "I got married.", she says. "I love city boys.", she adds, her eyes repressing a hitherto forgotten memory, her lips uttering nothing more. I notice one other belle looking over a makeshift barrier, smiling bashfully in my direction. I'm flattered by the attention, but mostly cynical of their intent.








Inside, the boys are sipping the last of their tea. I tell her I better hurry in. She nods. I glance at my would-be-lovelies one last time. They seem to be weaving carpets. I ask my hostess one last question - "How much do these carpets go for?". "Marry them and you'll get it for free", she replies. "I'm sorry I asked.", I think to myself. I see more bikes turning into the compound. Spiderweb exclaims that they belong to 60kph. I find one of them exclaiming to the other that our bikes were xbhp.

We make no introductions for want of time, remount our steeds and resume the journey. We must reach Tangtse before dark. As meters melt into kilometers, I zone into a careless throttle. The Universe speaks to me no more, the terrain challenges me no more, the tarmac wobbles me no more, the open sky... shows trouble. There's a sand storm brewing in the distance. Wisps of particle combine with violent intent. From our vantage, its pretty clear we'll have to navigate right through it. We decide to pick up the pace. Experience suggests, the longer we mull around, the worse it usually gets. Of course Vishal will do everything but pick up the pace and so the group splits once more with Spiderweb cranking up the throttle to insane levels while a cautious Vishal moving to the other end of the spectrum. Drifter and RomeoMike will stick to their mate, and I will glue in to mine.


The storm pushes us around good. The R15 shivers like a new born in Alaska. We keep our heads low, our visors down and our throttles up. The pelting sand destroys my view frame. I see nothing, only the dim glow of Motorbreath's tail lamp a few feet from me. My lone rear view struggles to reveal the background; it fails every time. Fortunately, it only takes us a few, though long minutes - perhaps more than twenty, to exit the eye of the storm. We've lost the three once more.

We find ourselves close to Tangtse - 2kms if the stone is to be believed. Spiderweb suggests we keep moving and look for accommodation. It will be dark soon. At 0 kms from Tangtse, we find ourselves at a crossroad, one leading into the township, the other, by-passing it to arrive at Pangong Tso. We are incapable of deciphering one from the other for the board seems to suggest nothing of consequence. Spiderweb decrees we take the right - we follow blindly. Turns out, his guess was right. We land at the doors of Tangtse.

Tangtse, a micro settlement, the equivalent of a short street. A few buildings on either side of the road sums up the town. We find two options for accommodation - an Inn and a comparatively modest guest house. We chose modesty over luxury - although luxury in these parts is often misleading. We get permission to park our steeds within the premises. We unsaddle as we wait for the three to arrive. When they do not, I worry that perhaps they turned towards the wrong leg of the fork. I head back see if I can get a visual on them. Luck favours not me; I head back worried.

It won't be long before I hear the rumble of three heading into town. I signal them into the house. As I do so, I see Spiderweb exiting the bathroom. He's happy with the facility. Happy enough to praise it with a Kodak smile. I decide to give it a go. Which reminds me... I need new underwear.

By the time I exit the facility, not more than 5 minutes I pretend, the family three have slipped into deep slumber. I am famished as are my two. We stroll down, have a late lunch, speak of inconsequential things and return to rest. RomeoMike will awaken many moments later and we will head out once more, him for food, I for underwear. We find two stores - selling everything from pencils, to hooch, to underwear. The one we hit seems to be selling male thongs for that is precisely what they look like - little strings with an air of a trifle bit of masculinity. We will have no such thing under our belts.

The other store is owned by a member of the opposite sex. It pains me to ask her for underwear. Lack of options is the mother of adventure. I blurt out my desire to clothe myself beneath the exterior padding. I'm too dizzy to remember her response for I now have no memory of acquiring an underwear. I do remember buying me some socks though.

Motorbreath and Spiderweb will pick up some hooch to celebrate the onslaught of darkness. Heck they'll celebrate anything if it involves a good dose of intoxication. They are not alone.

Our canteen boy had it right. Tangtse is a brutal environment. The freeze makes me question my sanity, the thin still air deprives me of it. How do you escape claustrophobia outdoors? Where do you run to? I lay still on the mattress, listening in to familiar tunes, covered in layers of clothing and sheets. I dare not move for I fear my chest will explode. Motorbreath complains of the oxygen levels; Spiderweb waves him off saying its psychological. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps I react not to the weather but to the warnings. But I dare not speculate. I will give dinner a go despite invitations from the family three. I will lay still and sink into oblivion.

I wake up to a full bladder. I try to resist, but resist I cannot. The phone bellows 3:30am - its glare blinding my sleepy eyes. The physical discomfort, in addition to the freeze is too much for my constitution to take lying down. I will have to risk visiting the john. I take two puffs of aerosol to prevent myself from going to an asthmatic shock. I can hear my chest pounding as I rise. I limp to the bathroom. A weak right ankle hurts in the extremities. I relieve myself. Much to my relief, my heart catches up with the Universe. It pounds no more. I walk back lazily. I have no temptation to tempt the Universe. I do not want to be taught another lesson; not tonight. The Universe, it would seem, is as disinterested as I.

I see the dim glow of my phone lying on the bed; searching desperately for relevance in a network. "Should have put it on airplane mode to conserve battery. We won't have any network outside so long as we are out of Leh.", I think to myself. I don't go in, preferring instead to sit on a cane chair outside and stare at the moon. It looks deceptively close. The stars shine through the clear black sky. I sit transfixed for many breathless moments. I don't feel her creep up on me...

"Where've you been?", I ask.
"Around", she says. "You've been busy I see", she adds.
"Apparently not enough", I remark wryly. She giggles and takes a seat besides me. We hold hands, her familiar smell intoxicating my very core. I dare not move, for I'm afraid I'll lose sight of her.
"Why here? Why tonight?", I ask.
"Because I felt you needed me", she responds.
"What makes you think that?", I ask.
She brings up her finger, holds it close to my eye and collects a tear. I look away. I did not realize I was crying.
"Wanna step inside?", she asks.
"Do I?", I wink. She laughs, squeezes my hand tight and drags me under the sheets.
"How I've missed you", I whisper.
"But I never left", she murmurs.
We hug close, falling into slumber in each others arms.

We'll cuddle all night, me and her, my loneliness and I...

Nice....hope that throat infection is gone now....keep it coming...

Tangste was the only place where i felt the ladhaki cold it was terrible , I also remember both Raman and Vishal were complaining of fever. I was feeling the cold will kill me finally , par bach gaya yaar main . The cold was not allowing me to sleep, in the morning finally went outside and sat on a chair and soaked the sun felt much better then.
The hosts children were playing in front of me and i was like even there baby was in the open.

Having fun Alankar
Mast likhta hai yaar tu

ps: i loved my intro very much

Glad you liked it! ;-) Our adventures have only just begun!

@Drifter: kyu marne ki baatein karte rehta hai. Ek Old Monk ka pack maar leta toh thand bhi ghanta lagti

@AL'an'kar:

TANGTSE : the BEST CHAPTER TILL DATE, UNBEATABLE writing.

Now you bought me to a point where I came to a conclusion that your writing style matches (not same though) my fav Author J.K.Rowling. HATS OFF...

P.S: Tears!!! Hmmm... I guess alot went unnoticed in those freezing temperatures...
I literally felt the tangtse chill sitting on my bed.

Wonderful write-up once again Alankar.
Hats off!!

Btw, it was Raman complaining bout the Oxygen stuff this time..

red all the post in this thread,,mind blowing(urs) man

i hav a sugg..dont stop it anyways try to make it a mega moviee