outside the wall

The Count of Monte Cristo

2011-07-18T15:33:00.003+05:30

Just got done with the Dumas classic " The Count of Monte Cristo". Never has any novel been more haunting and spellbinding for me. Right from the "school version" we were introduced to more than 10 years back.

Edmond Dantes - the name haunts me till date.

One immortal tale of love, betrayal, greed, loathe , vengeance and providence.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T20:33:00.003+05:30

The wait was long was patient

There was a forlorn lament

For not being on the roads for a while

But there was a reason now to smile

The destination was decided

And after mails debated

It was set over beer and yeast

To head for the east

Into the land of the rising sun

And the land of endless fun....

**From the Bhutanchal Buccaneers**

April 10 - April 22, 2011

It has been quite some time since I posted about my rides; And for good reason too. I had been missing out on many rides for reasons that can be simply put unfortunate or untimely. I don’t usually write about the weekend trips or the short getaways in my car. I try to keep this blog dedicated to only the annual long sojourns out of this mundane life. The moment I was out of projects and posted to the north eastern city of Guwahati, my mind went on an overdrive trying to plan a trip and get down on the roads as soon as possible, make up for lost tarmac or lost trips!

After debates over mails on the destination for our annual getaway, Kenny and I zeroed in on the North-East. The North- East presented another dilemma - places to explore. You see, the North East presents to you a plethora of places that you can just lose yourself into. Sikkim, Bhutan, Arunachal, Meghalaya, Assam – all these places have their own USP, their own enigma, their own charisma that is left only upon travelers to unravel to whatever extent possible. We were particularly keen on Sikkim, Bhutan and Arunachal since we keep hearing about these fabled places so often. We also knew that this trip would require a different squad of riders, people with very very similar riding dynamics and temperament and of course a sense of extreme comradeship. Keeping this in mind we kept the mail chain limited to a few recipients: Nishant Jha, Kenny, Gyan, Mrinal, Mrinaljeet, Vihans and later added Payeng Da.

So started the discussions over email on the probable destinations in a span of two weeks, the draft itineraries, the plan B’s and Plan C’s. After a few takes and retakes it was evident that clubbing Bhutan, Sikkim and Arunachal together would be nigh impossible in a span of 15 days. And after a lot of iterations we settled on Bhutan plus Arunachal. We would be starting from Guwahati, head towards Phuentsholing-the western most entry point of Bhutan, traverse from down below to Thimpu, then ride on to central Bhutan and finally exit from the point nearest to Assam – Samdhrup Jhonkar. After the exit from Bhutan, we were to proceed directly to Tezpur in Assam and head to Bhalukpong, the entry point of Arunachal from near Tezpur and then take it from there to Tawang. It was a well laid out plan, although we were a bit apprehensive about the terrain in Bhutan. I had feedback on the roads of Arunachal, so it was easy on us to estimate the travel time on bikes from point A to point B, but none of us had any first hand feedback on Bhutan. So we kept the daily distance to be traversed quite modest for the Bhutan leg of the trip, not exceeding more than 200 kms a day.

A trip without any hiccups is a trip truly blessed they say. Very true! The first issue we faced was with the railway ticket bookings. The Rajdhani bookings were showing no signs of getting confirmed even after a 15 day wait and it didn’t seem to fare any better after a month since it was Bihu time in Assam. So we decided to book flight tickets to Guwahati and not to rely on the train tickets alone. Well, it was done and it presented another dilemma – how to get the bikes to Guwahati. The reliable surface transporter GATI declined to ship the bikes to Guwahati. A problem faced by Payeng Da in Pune too. Oh, by the way, Payeng Da is based out of Pune and he was getting his bike from Pune all the way down to Guwahati. I suggested booking sleeper class tickets in the North East Express and have the bikes shipped in the luggage. This is what I had done when I got my bike to Guwahati last December and it had worked fine for me. So it was decided to take this route and proceed with the bikes to the railway station to get the bikes loaded. Payeng Da, in the meantime had taken the help of GATI to ship his bike till Kolkata and then load the bike onto a train for the remainder of the distance. The second shock came when the guy arrived at the railway station and found out that unconfirmed tickets did not warrant luggage to be booked! The guys, Mrinal Doley, Mrinajit Dutta and Kenny came back dejected from the railway station at near midnight. With no options left to explore and with little time to spare, it was time the bikes were dispatched through surface transport. The third hurdle was when almost all transporters refused to ship to Guwahati and even if they did, the charges were exorbitant. Even Jha’s acquaintances in Delhi were of no help.

Finally, Kenny stumbled upon one India Packers and Movers. Almost on the verge of desperation now, the bikes were hastily ferried off with the mover. Even that wasn’t all hunky dory. Many comic incidences happened even while the bikes were being loaded onto the truck! Some very alert neighbor of Doley thought the bikes were being stolen and shipped off to someplace!! Never knew Delhi people cared about what’s going on around them!! Well, this was an eye-opener for the guys in Delhi!

After what seemed to be a never ending ordeal, the four bikes (Gyan had also come down to Delhifrom Panipat to ship his bike together with the others from Delhi) were finally handed over to the Movers and Packers on the 31^st of March. The spokesperson for India Packers and Movers gave us continued reassurances that we’d have the bikes in Guwahati well before we were to venture out. I still curse that guy. Payeng Da had , in the meantime, shipped his bike to Kolkata through GATI and had one relative arranged to take delivery of the bike and parcel it on the train from Kolkata to Guwahati. All we had to do was wait. And we did, very very patiently. Till it was the 7^th of April, just 3 days shy of the start of our trip and with no signs or news of the bikes as yet, we were getting impatient. Turned out that India Packers and Movers, the bastards they are, had offloaded our bikes with Om Logistics and Om Logistics on their part took their own sweet time and had dispatched the bikes only on the 3^rd of April! Their online tracking showed that the expected date of arrival at Guwahati was 11^th of April, which sent us scurrying back to our excel sheets and online maps to try to readjust the itinerary to account for this shift in the timeline. Starting on the 12^th would mean having to cut short part of Central Bhutan and make an exit earlier than Samdhrup Jhonkar or giving a major city a miss. I had kept passes and hotel bookings made for the Arunachal leg of the trip, which meant we could only try permutations on the Bhutan leg of the trip. Alternate itineraries were kept ready till we called on Om Logistics and found out that the bikes would be here only around 13^th. This lent us a severe blow as our well laid out plans were in shambles and we were reckoning on how to go about it.

Before we knew it, it was 8^th and the guys had to fly out on the 9^th. The early morning spicejet flight flew the guys to Guwahati on the wee hours of the 9^th and I was fashionably late in picking them up from the airport. Well, I am to blame partially. I had thought the flight would land only around 8:30 AM and it would take another 15 minutes for the guys to collect the baggage and come out of the arrivals. The only hitch – I woke up late. It was Gyan who woke me up at 8 AM and reminded I had to go pick up the guys. Well, I rushed, and I would have made it in time had it not been for the flight landing a bit early and had it not been for a diversion on the highway to the Airport.

Anyway, I got the guys back home and while they went about getting fresh, Gyan dropped in at my place and before I knew it, they had taken out beers I had stocked the fridge with for their arrival. I had to go to office and so I left them to rest telling them I would come for lunch and we would have lunch together with Payeng Da.

Lunch was a start-off party at Café Hendrix where the beer was flowing freely and pork dishes going on the fly. It was going to be dry days for the next two days owing to the elections on the 11^th and we took good measures to ensure we were well-stocked up.

Post lunch we went about discussing what we were going to do about the bikes. With the bikes still in transit it meant we were to just sit and wait and waste precious trip days. All of a sudden, almost all of us decided we go to Bhutan by car and not waste any of our hard-earned, hard-to-get leaves and leave off, as planned originally, the next morning i.e. on the 10^th. We took votes and except for Payeng Da and Gyan’s Uncle, all of us were game. I already had my car tanked up and was raring to go. So it was decided we would drive all the way to Madarihat where we have an Indian Oil Guest House and then hire a cab to Thimpu. I went to make calls to arrange for the guest house and it was done in a jiffy.

It might be a good time now to introduce the trippers that were part of the line-up and their steel horses. The Bhutanchal Buccaneers are:

1. Gyan Moshahari, aka Fukku, on his red Karizma

2. Mrinal Doley, aka The Monk, on his awesome RE Classic 500

3. Mrinaljit Dutta, aka John Abraham, on his “plastic/pseudo metal” Avenger 200

4. Satadal Payeng aka “the biker next door” on his P220 dts-fi and later the 150 pulsar classic

5. Diptinder Chhabra ,aka Kenny on his Bullet Electra 4 speed

6. Gyan’s Uncle, not aka but AKB (Ajit Kumar Brahma) on his fiery R15

7. And I, the “tour operator” on my P200 dtsi

But the trip to Bhutan included only five people on board, Payeng Da and Gyan’s Uncle preferring not to take the car. And so it was decided, the rest of us would start off the very next morning and head towards the border town of Madarihat and flag off the trip! To mark this, we opened up a bottle of single malt – The Famous Grouse and had the evening dedicated to it!!

Here we go then....

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T20:27:00.003+05:30

Day 1: April 10^th

Guwahati to Madarihat:

John was the “dependable” guy who woke all of us up at 5 in the morning and got us ready. We had packed the evening before and we had to just take our baths and hop on to the car and get going. We started off at around 0730 hours after collecting cash from the ATMs. You see, although Indian currency is legal tender in Bhutan, notes above INR 500 are not. So we were trying to coax 100 rupee notes from the ATMs. After that we took off on the road leading us to the Airport and took the amazingly green and smooth roads towards the border of Assam. I wasted no opportunity in stretching my fiesta’s legs and was doing good pace till I noticed a white polo/vento in my rearview mirror. It was closing up on me and I didn’t know whether it was the polo or the vento. Judging by the way it was able to keep up with the 120 kmph I was doing on my fiesta, I deduced it had to be the 1.6 Vento. Only when did it furiously overtake me that we found out it was a 1.6 polo – the hot hatch of the country as of now. Cracking car it is!!

Now, I had breakfast arranged at my cousin’s friend’s place somewhere 110 odd kilometers from Guwahati. We were there at around 0830 hours and were greeted warmly by my cousin and her friend. They had an array of delicacies ready for breakfast, not to mention some heavy stuff like pooris and pork and rice beer even!! The guys were all game for the rice beer. I wasn’t too keen because I had to drive and I shook my head in a “no” motion when asked for second helpings, only to find everyone around me was nodding their heads in a “yes” motion!!

The guys probably felt comfy at that place because they even lapped up the idea of having some pork and rice beer packed for the rest of the trip. This might have to do with the fact that they thought they were my relatives. Only after the trip did they realize that I didn’t know them at all and it was my first visit to their place as well!! But nevertheless they did load a full tiffin box of pork and a full 3 litres of rice beer in a milk container in my car – much to my disdain. I knew the beer would be finished well before we had covered 100 kms, and I would be left out cause I was the one doing the driving.

After a heavy breakfast, or rather brunch, we set forth again at around 0945 hours, fully laden with Bihu gifts, pork and rice beer and headed towards Alipurduar.

I was right about the rice beer. We had hardly done 30 kms when the guys decided to crack open the milk container. Kenny was the designated bar tender and I heard the order from behind “ Drive steady, we are making pegs”. I did get a few sips from Gyan’s cup though, so not much of complaints from the driver.

We were making good time and were coming across amazingly good roads, mildly hilly terrain and subtle twisties. At one particular stretch I suddenly felt the power drop in my car. I turned to see the console if there was anything wrong, and I could see a yellow light on the cluster that usually is off during drives. Still driving I asked Gyan on the passenger seat to go through the manual and try to find out what the light meant. We found out it indicated a problem with the “powertrain”, and all of us went on trying to find out what could it mean. Engine fault, oil pressure, coolant temperature etc all had their own warning lights and so we were totally miffed at what “powertrain” problem could actually mean. I wasn’t able to do more than 90 kmph and pick up was coming dead slow. So to cool it off I stopped the car on the roadside to let the engine rest for a while. This was also utilized by the guys for the suttas and the milk container was taken out and Kenny went about serving the beer to others – right by the road!

In the meantime I had called up Ford and explained of the problem to which I was answered that the car had to be analyzed to pinpoint the problem. They suggested I disconnect the battery terminals for 15 minutes and try again. We limped to the next town and bought a spanner of suitable size. By that time I had turned off the A/C to lower the load on the engine and to do a few more kilometers to the hour. Fortunately when we gave the engine some rest, the light went off and we got back full power for a while, but I didn’t try to push it and kept making a modest 80 kmph.

Soon we were approaching Bauxirhat, the Assam- West Bengal border and we were caught in a vicious jam of endless trucks and trailers trying to make their way into and out of Assam. I took the car off road, trying to pass as many trucks as possible till time and again we had to stop because we ran out of even off-road space. We lost a good couple of hours in that log jam. We were literally inching our way forward, till some good truck driver showed a tiny village road that bypassed the entire border. As luck would have it, my car was bang next to that road and we were thinking that had we had passed that road, it wasn’t even possible to back up and take the exit. Truly thanking our stars, we took that off road yet again till we came upon some paved village road and then we joined the highway after the border after a 40 minute drive. I forgot to mention that in the traffic jam, the powertrain warning light went off as mysteriously as it had come on and we were soon galloping on 102 horses towards Alipurduar. Since we were back to full power, we decided not to fiddle with the battery and leave it alone.

We did come across some enthusiastic direction givers who kept on showing us directions even after we had thanked them and moved on! We reached a non-descript town called Toofan ganj and took a road less taken , and boy – did we come across some smooth piece of tarmac! I was doing 90 kmph through that narrow road, it was that good. Finally after some more directions we were at Alipurduar, where we stopped again at an ATM and took off promptly after that.

The drive from Alipurduar to Madarihat was also on some good stretches of highway and some particularly nasty potholes. After what seemed to be an unexpectedly long long drive, we finally came across the turn that took us to our guest house. We bought some snacks for the evening and made way to the guest house some 6 kilometers away.

We were shown into our rooms at the guest house and as soon as we got fresh, the evening “mehfil” started with Blender’s Pride and the pork we had from my cousin’s friend’s home. Dinner was also served after a while and in between that time I made arrangements for a taxi to come and pick us up in the morning and take us to Phuentsholing the next morning. Not wasting much time, we hit our beds not too long after dinner.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T20:24:00.003+05:30

Day 2: April 11^th

Madarihat-Phuentsholing-Thimpu

Off to the land of the thunder dragon:

The morning of April 11^th saw us getting up at an early 0500 hours. The taxi that would take us to Phuentsholing had been called in to report at 0730 hours. So we had our breakfast and waited for the taxi. While we waited, Gyan found a volleyball at the community centre and immediately started playing football with it. Kenny and Doley joined in too while Dutta chose to play the photographer.

The taxi arrived after a while and we all piled in. The guys made wisecracks at me since the taxi was a Maruti Omni and I had told these guys that the Prado was the default vehicle in Bhutan and ever other vehicle in Bhutan is either that or a Hyudai SUV. Having to be content with that we sped off towards Phuentsholing, making another stop at an ATM on the way. We made entry at the border town of Phuentsholing and were officially in Bhutan!

The driver directed us to the immigration office from where we had to obtain our Inner Line Permits. Immediately after taking our stuff from the taxi, I pointed out to the guys a wine shop where I had brought my first whiskey from Bhutan from my previous trip to Phuentsholing! We entered the Immigration office and were immediately accosted by a guard who handed us blank forms to be filled up. When he saw that only two of us carried passports, he informed us that in the case of the others without passports or voter id cards, the ILPs will have to be obtained from the Indian Consulate Office. Still he asked us to try our luck with the officials. So we filled up the forms and queued up to the window where the applications were being received. In the meantime Gyan and Doley had come across and taxi driver willing to take us to Thimpu and also take care of the local trips in Phuentsholing.

Our fears came true when we were told by the Bhutanese official that for people without passport or voter id card, a mandate has to be issued from the Indian Consulate. Off we went to the Indian Consulate and came across a serious looking person at the window. Doley and I surmised we weren’t in for a totally smooth transaction and we were proved true. Out came a list of government orders or whatever when Gyan mentioned working for a PSU along with the proclamation that my passport was fake and so on and so forth. After lots of coaxing and cajoling, the man finally gave in and reluctantly signed on the documents. We rushed back to the Immigration office and resubmitted the forms and were asked to come back after an hour to collect the permits. It was almost noon by that time and we decided to get our currencies changed to Ngultrum and have our lunch. The taxi driver, a friendly Druk citizen by the name of Kinley, took us to a departmental store where a nice (and nice looking too!) girl exchanged our 11k into Ngultrum. We wandered into a nearby restaurant “Zen” for our lunch and before we could finalize on the main menu, beers and the veritable accompaniment pork were ordered for the bunch! We cautioned each other however that we still had to get our permits and we shouldn’t get drunk or carry the smell of beer into the Government office.

The meal was sumptuous to mention the least. One of the best fried rice I have had in many years I must add. We could actually munch on pieces of meat unlike having to search for microscopic chunks in conventional restaurants. Having finished lunch we headed for the office yet again only to find out that it was closed for lunch. With a little over an hour to kill, Kenny and I decided to head to a nearby park while the rest walked over to the Indian side to have a smoke. Smoking is banned in Bhutan and can attract severe punishments including a six year jail term. We gathered together after a while and headed for the office and wait there instead. We waited patiently, a little too patiently. Kenny, Dutta and Doley had happily fallen asleep in a bench, lulled into serenity by the calm office, the heavy lunch and the potent Druk beer. The office was officially open at 1400 hours and Gyan and Doley went about making pleading faces at the nice (again, very nice looking!) lady at the counter and were assured of the permits within a few minutes. One thing we noticed in the office is that the people of Bhutan, ladies included, like to chew on bubblegums a lot.

We received the permits shortly after and expressed our sincerest gratitude to the officials. The officials there are fast, friendly, computer savvy and some of them are even funny. There are no unnecessary delays on their part and no dilly-dallying. This became more evident when we had gone to the Indian Consulate office and the difference in the working culture became acutely apparent. We headed to our patiently waiting Kinley, not forgetting to thank the guard of the office on our way out.

Dutta’s tryst with the never-ending butt jokes started when all of our birthdays were printed the same on the permits. You see, technically Dutta is the wisest of all of us. That’s read as he was the eldest among us. With the permits making us even-aged, it was like Dutta had been given a shave-off from his age advantage and he was young again! The wise one among us was young again! Hallelujah!

Once armed with the permits, we hopped into our taxi – a Maruti Versa, and set off towards Thimpu. It was only after we sped off on the hills that I truly heaved a sigh of relief – we had our permits. I was really wary of the Indian Consulate Office. I did use the toilet of that office though and thanked the officer profusely. His disposition had changed dramatically, surprisingly. Don’t know why but he was quite cheery as he waved me off bidding a happy journey!

The journey presented us with stunning roads, twisters and coasters, tarmac and hills couple that up with Nat Geo stuff panorama and it had us gawking at each other. All of us had the same thoughts running like crazy on our minds – if only we were on our bikes, or even if we were in my fiesta. These thoughts made us curse Tiwari from India Packers and Movers all the more. The more we went into dragon territory the more I was enchanted with this place. I was sitting in the front and chatted up with Kinley, squeezing info from him on what is this land called Bhutan. A few bits gathered from Kinley: “Hello” goes by the word “Kuzumbo”, “ Good Luck” is “ Tashi Delek” and more importantly “Boy” is “Boo” (yes, you’ve read it right) and even more importantly “Girl” is “Boom”. Some more tid bits: Pema is the most common name for Girls in Bhutan, while for the boys its Tashi, the indigenous language is “Zonkha” and people have a happy-go-lucky outlook on life. The people tend to be simplistic too, with very simplistic marriage rituals – boy/girl falling in love-girl going to stay at the boy’s place-parents accepting girl-priest marrying them off….. I really wish life were as simple elsewhere.

People also have this affinity towards alcohol. The government has issued an order that bars and pubs should remain open till 2300 hours, up from the 2200 hours earlier and any defaulter attracted penalty and foreclosures!! But they are well-behaved; never saw a drunkard in our entire trip. Must have to do with the strict law and the law enforcers. I was more and more keen on learning more, so I went about asking about jobs in Bhutan and if “Booms” were hard to find in Bhutan, to settle down, to lead a life there. This lead to intense leg-pulling from the rear passengers and we had one of the most merry rides-make that drives.

We took ample shots at Dutta, who has a very remarkable affinity for sleep and the feline pussy cat. Every now and then someone would pop the question-“Is Dutta awake?” Gyan and Dutta were the sleepyheads for this leg of the trip and the butt of almost all jokes. I wasn’t too far behind in the stakes though.

We also took small breaks in between to relieve ourselves and the guys puffed some drags at cigarettes furtively, always on the lookout for people on the road. Nobody wanted any trouble with the cops, especially since we knew they were honest and they drove Toyota Hiluxes. Come on , nobody messes with that kind of cops…..except maybe when they are on Nissan Patrols or Jeep Cherokees or Dodge Chargers!!

We kept resuming our journey after one or two stops and the only time we didn’t call for a stop and we did stop was when Kinley showed us the highest point on the Phuenthsoling- Thimpu road at 8350 feet above MSL. We alighted from the taxi, stretched our legs, posed for some few photos and Gyan wasted no time in lighting up another fag. Jayanti, please take note. The official usherer is Gyan, and not us “innocent” guys!!! We are the good guys and we take the blame on behalf of Gyan!!

Kinley led a spirited drive for the remainder of the journey. It was dusk and lights were turned on. The solar powered prayer wheel mounted on the dash of the versa was slowly losing steam and so was the solar powered “sun flower” that we see with vendors on Delhi traffic junctions. Finally we came across this red and golden gate that boldly said “Welcome to Thimpu City”, the gate made even more glorious by the headlights shining on it. We took a couple of shots and then moved on. As soon as we did the narrow road suddenly turned into a smooth four lane highway. We were hard pressed to actually take in the fact that this hill station could actually have four lane roads. The bright city lights beckoned us and we were squirming with childish delight. Gyan had painted a rosy picture of Bhutan’s night life and night clubs and we were raring to go wild! More sights were to follow that baffled us no end. Thimpu had flyovers!! Oh man oh!

It was almost 2000 hours and it was totally dark and we reached one of the lanes dotted with hotels. We had to look for a place to shack up for two days and Kinley took us to one of the few hotels. Luckily for us, the first one we hit off seemed to be a nice cosy place with nice friendly staff and nice (yet again nice looking ) Boom staff!!! Kinley seemed to be familiar with the place- one Hotel Choephal Norkye, but one thing I liked about him was the fact that he didn’t expect us to like the rooms but still was ready to take us around the place till we found something we liked. We hastily unloaded our stuff from the taxi and dumped them in the rooms, paid off Kinley and thanked him, and yet again he gave us his number and asked us to call him if we ever needed something. It suddenly stuck us that the next day being a Tuesday was a dry day observed in Bhutan and we didn’t want to go dry. So we asked him to take us to a wine shop so that we could stock up. The streak of dry days wasn’t letting go of us, be it in Guwahati or be it in Bhutan. Funny .

And Kinley did get us whiskey, only thing it wasn’t from a wine shop. It was from a grocery store! Oh yes, grocery stores stock whiskey right next to essential commodities like cerelac! We bought one of the most expensive ones – K5 and a more modest Courier Special at INR 730 and 380 respectively and headed back to our rooms

Gyan had us all charged up with his “knowledge” on the night life of Bhutan and we were all charged up for a night on the town. Kinley had also shown us the way to some pubs. But our very own guide fell sick and wanted to retire for the night. Seems he felt nauseous and wanted to sleep it off. So it left the four of us to wander about the streets and enjoy the views Thimpu provided us with. The first thing I noticed or rather tried to notice was the Booms. They are cute I tell you. Fair, no blemish anywhere, long straight hair, petite and there you have it. The perfect “homely” girl that you’d want to settle down with. We wandered down the street for a while, enjoying the chill in the wind, gawking at the vehicles, at the Booms and went about looking for a pub to chill out at. Bhutan is predominantly SUV country. The default SUVs being the Land Cruiser Prado and the awesome Hilux with a fair bit of Santa Fe’s and the all new Tucson thrown in fair measure. Needless to say, Toyotas, Hyundais and Marutis rule the roost there with some Renaults and the odd Fords seen here and there. We also came across the all new Sonata which looks and sounds smashing! Pity that in India we have to be content with the elsewhere-discontinued Sonata Embera.

Unfortunately our hotel street did not present us with much pubs and having left with little choice to wander about more or to head into a nearby pub, we went in for the latter. It was called Tiger Pub, named after the famed Singaporean beer. Dutta has a special affinity for Tiger Beer as we found out in due time. I think Dutta has an affinity for anything that’s related to the feline kind! It was a karaoke bar and was somehow not too crowded. We were disappointed cause we were on the lookout for people to mingle with. More disappointment came in the way of the pub not having anything but Tiger beer and that too in 330 ml cans. With no options left to explore we ordered for four and asked for the snacks menu to cater to our growling bellies but the lady serving us drinks informed us politely that there were no snacks. Confused at first we asked again for something to eat to which we were told the pub did not serve any eatables! Well, that was a culture shock for us guys who are used to loads and loads of chaknas with our whiskies! Dejected, we decided to finish off our cans and head back to our good old hotel which had a bar of its own. Well, hardly any surprise since all the restaurants we came across in Bhutan served alcohol. Once seated in the confines of the hotel restaurant at a table we ordered beers and luckily the bar had more choices to offer. We all homed in on a new beer to us called HIT, and it was a hit all right; a bit sweet but nice, real nice. Kenny was all for the spicy concoction called Ima Datschi – a combi of red hot red chilies and cheese. But the serving girl suggested otherwise and Kenny was content with a milder version Iwa Datschi – cheese and potatoes. Needless to say , Doley, Dutta and I went in for anything in pork they had to offer. The restaurant guy was a real friendly guy who paid good attention to all we wanted and got them for us and the serving was done by girls, some demure looking girls, two of which entered my room right after we checked in. I intended to include them as bragging rights!!

We had made a plan of visiting Paro, the land of the Tiger’s Nest the next day and decided we’d better hit the bed after a couple of round of beers. Dinner was served without much ado and with a satisfied stomach and bladder, we made it to our rooms. Gyan was fast asleep by then and we also wasted no time in getting cosy in our beds. The room where I and Kenny stayed overlooked the street below and I spent some time peeking out the window to finally let the feeling sink into me that we were finally in Bhutan. Though not on bikes, we definitely were in a fabled land.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T19:56:00.007+05:30

Day 3: April 12^th

Thimpu-Paro-Tiger’s Nest- Thimpu

The sun rises pretty early in Thimpu or so we found out. I was awake by the time it was 0630 hours. Kenny, in his usual flair, was up and awake before that and went about his duties of waking the others up. Gyan by now was feeling dandy too. For some reason we decided to have breakfast at some other restaurant and by 0730 hours we were out of the hotel and looking for some avenues to have our breakfast. I was particularly keen on a café that served conventional coffees and also offered free wi-fi. Dutta wisely suggested that the amount we spent on the coffee would easily cover breakfast at another restaurant plus surfing charges at an internet café.I sheepishly grinned letting him know he was right but I was still keen on trying that place out. To our dismay almost all restaurants were still yet to open and we went about looking in vain for quite a few cafes. But all of them seemed to open at 0900 hours and we still had a lot of time to kill before that.

Sense prevailed over us and we headed into a small snack shop and to our relief saw some buns and noodles and found out they were serving tea. Doley was immediately mistaken for a Monk and the “ elderly woman behind the counter in a small town” started talking to him in Zonkha and a bewildered Doley even started nodding his head in response, adding to the confusion!!

Tea and sweet buns were ordered for all of us and then Gyan ventured over to the counter to check out what seemed like pork. Very eagerly Gyan and Doley ordered for a dish and it was then that the elderly lady’s daughter informed us it was beef. Still raring to go, we ordered for one plate and then the finer details of the dish came up. It wasn’t just beef, it was lungs of the animal. Not to be put off, Dutta eagerly ordered for one and the guys digged in. I wasn’t particularly in the mood for beef early morning, so I gave it a pass. Not Dutta though – he was hell bent on finishing the stuff even though his side of the table looked like a battle ground! Coming to Dutta – we all realized through this trip that Dutta has an affinity for the feline species of the animal kingdom. So much so that he even called a Dalmatian Pussy in the small café!!

The dog was actually called Russo by the elderly lady, but our icon decided to add glamour to that name and rechristened it Pussy!!

We paid up, offered our thank yous and headed towards the taxi stand for a ride to Paro. We were told by Kinley that it would take 150 bucks each to get us there from Thimpu to Paro. We arrived at the taxi stand not too far from our hotel to find out that if we wanted to go on a shared basis we’d have to wait till the taxi filled up completely and that meant waiting for another 2 persons to turn up. It was getting trifle impatient for us and then suddenly out of nowhere one taxi fellow offered to take us around for 2k to Paro, the nearby places and back. We would have spent 1500 bucks anyway and having a guaranteed means of coming back to Thimpu didn’t seem like a bad offer. So we went off about it, but then some other driver offered the same and turned out to be a friend of the present driver. So we hopped cars and off we went for the hour long drive to Paro.

The roads were inviting to say the least. The driver also turned out to be friendly. Heck, everyone is friendly in Bhutan. Its one of the very very few countries where Indians are actually liked. The people there like to think of India and Bhutan as siblings. A fact evident with the presence of Indian Army, Indian Oil and our very own Border Roads Organisation. We picked up on Bhutan from where we had left off with Kinley, gathering more info on this place were roaming in now. I went about asking about jobs in Bhutan and the car prices. I even tried to find out how much would a second hand pajero cost in Thimpu, what it takes to patafy a Boom and get married, the house rentals, the works. Bhutan is primarily a monarchy but they do have elections for governmental posts, but it is the King who calls the shots and we were told

the King is a very young and pro-people person, something very evident from numerous photos of him at almost every shop and corner. There are no import duties on cars there, so one gets a Prado for a measly 17 lacs and so on. There was once taxes levied upon the cars, but it turned out to be so unpopular it had to be withdrawn. The King is also very approachable it seems – any one with a genuine grievance can make an appeal and meet the King. Our very own taxi driver had been to the Royal Palace with a consortium of taxi drivers and had high tea at the Palace and came back with a gift of the traditional dress right from His Majesty himself.

The road to Tiger’s nest took us through the Paro airport and we could see an Airbus coming is for a landing. It was pretty wild to see the airplane making those banks among the mountains and line up for the relatively short runway at the Paro International Airport.

We were soon in Paro and we crossed the town taking in the amazing views that the town provided us with. I was particularly amazed by the girls and it was frustratingly difficult to figure out whether the girls were cuter or whether it was the babies!! It seemed one was beautiful by default – just get born in Bhutan and you are one beauty without blemish. All these girls have this innocent look on their faces that tend to melt you right away. Stay for a longer time and I bet you’ll be in for it – hook, line and sinker.

Soon we were at the base of the trek towards Tiger’s nest and it was evident from the plethora of cars and vans parked there that Tiger’s Nest received its fair share of visitors any given day. Our driver parked the taxi and said he’d wait for us till we finished our trek, which he assumed would take 90 minutes one way. We corrected him saying that we will take more than that. Sometimes our premonitions turn out dead right you see. There were some beverage stands right at the base, and each of us stocked up with a small bottle of litchi juice and 500 ml of good old water.

I was apprehensive right away when we saw the monastery from far away. It was perched on a sheer cliff and it gave you the shudders just to think about living in it. Well then, we started on our journey to the much much revered Tiger’s Nest aka Taktsang Monastery. Ten steps into the incline and I blurted out I was dead beat, much to the guffaws of the guys. We did have to soldier on, so we toiled on. The trek was torturous to put it in mild words. Well, guys of “normal” health might find the trek a bit steep but nevertheless very much doable. With us it was a different story altogether. I can’t say much about Kenny but he seems to have some extra juice in him with those titanium re-enforcements. The surgeon might have put in some terminator kind of battery thingee inside him I guess. But Gyan and I were struggling to scale the narrow mountain trek. We were out of breath and no sooner had we covered some teeny weenie distance, our bottles were broken open and we started sipping on the juice to gather some sugary energy. It was like nature was telling us on the face to either shape up or ship out. Respect. Respect.

The trek is full of prayer flags stretched from one end to the other, the ends seeming to start off anywhere and everywhere. Buddhist people believe the wind carries the prayers on the flags. They burn the prayer flags when they get dirty. I had got some prayer flags from Spiti valley. Still haven’t hung them anywhere – too scared they will get dirty and I’ll have to burn them off!! They are beautiful, things of peace and calm and the sight of those prayer flags fluttering in the wind carries a sense of tranquil on its own. There are prayer flags even on tree-tops , right at the apex and the branches are too thin to be supporting any man’s or child’s weight. So we were left wondering how the flags could have been masted on the tree-tops. Gyan, the knowledgeable guy, came to the rescue. He announced that when the tree was small, say 20 years back, the flags were tied onto the top and as it grew, carried the flags with it. Feasible, very feasible we told him – in outright mockery! In the end sense prevailed and it was deduced that Doley, the long lost monk, had tied this flag on top of the tree and now he was back to his roots or rather tree tops!!

The trek seemed never ending to us. In this while I would be stopping for quite some time, taking my own sweet time to click pics and just stare into the distance and get lost in thoughts. I also had found a way to get some respite from the climb. I would climb some 20-25 steps and then take a breather for about 10 seconds and would start off again. This seemed to be working on me and was able to gain some lost ground but lost it all again when I stopped for some more time off on my own.

Fortunately, there were watering holes en-route and they were gushing with cool spring water straight from the mountains- clean and clear as day. The water also tasted extremely good, a fact pointed out by Kenny. We filled up our depleting bottles and continued on. Came across some other trekkers on the way and would wait to chat up for a while before we caught our breath and resumed the ordeal. Finally, we came across a clearing that was just about halfway to the monastery. There was a cafeteria and everyone we had met on our way had suggested we take in some refreshments before embarking on the trek once again. We weren’t about to argue with that or rather we had no strength to veto the suggestions and we headed for the Taktsang Café – a restaurant run by the Bhutan Tourism Corporation. A very neat and well laid out café, looking straight out into the Taktsang monastery. We pulled up chairs and ordered for tea and biscuits since there was only a veg buffet lined up and were on a full non –veg diet through the entire trip! Everyone took their time to soak in the views, to take photos of the unending subjects the environ provided us with, to just sit on the chair and reflect on whatever came into your thoughts. I hi-jacked Dutta’s iPod touch and sat up nice and easy on a chair overlooking the monastery at the distance, set the iPod on “don’t panic” by Coldplay and had one of the most badly needed calm moments in recent times.

It was around noon and we had started an hour back and we weren’t even halfway there. So we decided not to linger our asses and limbs there and walk on, as one would say “keep walking”! Funny, I swear at that time everyone had taken up a resolution to either cut down radically on alcohol or abhor from cigarettes. Resolutions at tiring times are quickly forsaken as we did ourselves that very evening!!The monastery would look near at some point and again far away from another, but always looked formidable and inaccessible, something achievable only with the grittiest of determination. It worked like a pep talk and did wonders to hasten the pace.

We carried on nevertheless, the vegetation growing dense and the light growing low. There were clouds closing in and at some points of time it had actually drizzled. We finally arrived at a vantage point where we could see the monastery in all its glory. We chatted with a guide who happened to be providing his services for some far-eastern tourists. We could finally have a group shot taken with the tiger’s nest at the backdrop and we didn’t miss that chance at all. It was lunch time for the monastery and it was closed for an hour, but there were some other places on the way to explore like the friendly guide informed us. From that vantage point it was a steep flight of seemingly never ending stone steps, sometimes frighteningly dizzy and always dead tiring! There was a waterfall on the way that seemed to be falling from a cliff side that was nearly 90 degrees vertical – I’m not fibbing here because when you look up to see the fall of water all you see is the clear blue sky.

I lingered on to take snaps of the place while the guys climbed atop one of the rocks near the fall and just sat about enjoying the cool air that was in the vicinity of the waterfall. I too wanted to join them and tried to circumnavigate some rocks and get onto the same rock. Even through my pair of woodlands I could make out that the rocks were stone cold. Icy.

There was another temple situated right in a crevice between the two towering mountains and at a place only the Buddhists could have thought of building a temple. Same goes for the monastery. The very fact that there are cracks in the face of the cliff that the monastery is built on top of makes your Goosebumps perk up and your hair prickle. Some of us went to check out the cave temple, while I decided to cool my heels. We all regrouped after a while and proceeded towards the entrance of the Tiger’s Nest. The entry gate was a modest door. It had to be. There was absolutely no space to build a grand one. We went further up the steps till we came upon the entrance….finally, after a 2 hour arduous and ass-whipping trek, make that a mountain scaling. There was a large board with some rules noted down and the ones that mattered to us were that we wouldn’t be able to carry our cameras or camcorders. The monastery had just opened up and there were three guards to put our belongings in safe custody over the counter. We deposited our bottles, cameras, mobiles, everything except our wallets and got ourselves frisked by one of the guards. The guard that stashed away our stuff felt generous and friendly and decided to take us on a guided tour of the monastery. We weren’t complaining and we followed him like puppies, asking questions whenever we found it a bit difficult to understand his very very druk accented Hindi. We were taken everywhere of the monastery, every nook and corner, every stupa, every crevice, every temple, every holy water hole – thanks to the guard’s enthusiasm. The guard also didn’t lose the chance to make wisecracks at Dutta asking him time and again whether he was ok cause he looked tired and disheveled thanks to his unkempt hair and unshaven face! This started one of the major chains of the great leg pulling of the awesome Dutta aka John throughout the entire trip.

We went to the main temple and there we had to take our shoes off. We were allowed to keep our socks on though. The floor of the entire monastery must have been clocking something like 5-6 degrees and I had a hard time keeping my feet at the same place for more than 10 seconds, always looking for a warmer spot to place my feet on. We offered our prayers in all earnest. That place brings a sense of reverie, a deep sense of respect and our minds automatically tune into a no-nonsense mode. We were also taken to the cliff side of the monastery where tales of old mythology were narrated by the guard. Looking down the cliff side presents an immensely awe-inspiring view in itself. The monastery is perched right upto the farthest inch of the flat space on the edge of the cliff and it looked fragile, yet boldly making its presence felt. A culmination of opposites.

We wondered with awe as to what could have inspired someone to build such a formidable temple at such a formidable height and through trials and tribulations that we can only hope to conjure up in our wildest imaginations. As if that was not enough, the guard pointed upwards towards the very peak of the adjoining mountain and there was another small temple dedicated to a goddess. It was called temple of heaven and very rightly so. One had to look at it to really gauge the sheer spirit of the human devotion that led to the building of such a temple. No amount of space-tech photography will be able to capture the essence of the sight. The temple itself is formidable and we were left wondering how frightening the path to it might be when the guard informed us that there is a narrow ledge-way that led to the temple. There has also been death of a priest when he had fallen off a scaffolding perched on iron stakes driven into the rock. One gets shaken at the very thought.

With a sweep of the entire temple, we came across the place that is actually called Tiger’s Nest. It’s a narrow crevice that leads into some hard-to-squeeze-into caves and which also opens onto the sheer face of the cliff. One misstep and you are on a 9.81 m2/sec free fall to your death. The guard egged us on to explore but one look at the sky from the inside of the crevice killed whatever adventurous thoughts I had in my mind. We found out that these caves were where tiger’s had made homes in early days and hence the name. Kinley had also offered a different version of the story, will have to look up on some texts before we decide to zero in one theory.

Thereafter we made our way back to the entrance, had some photographs clicked with the guard and bade goodbye to the guards. We were lucky to have had an entertaining guide with us that day, we really were. And then started the long climb up the steep steps. The huffing and puffing syndrome was back and soon I was back to taking 5 steps at one go, 10 seconds of rest and then at it again.

After we reached the vantage point I had mentioned earlier it was a cake walk. Just at that point Gyan and I saw a young Druk guy carrying a full bag of cement on his back and making his way to a small temple under construction. I was just too dumbfounded to even say anything. I wanted to from the bottom of my heart. I wanted to speak to the young guy. But I had nothing to say. He had carried the bag all the way up to the temple on his back, while we were struggling with just our body weights. A deep sense of shame prevailed over me and I just stared at him. That guy just earned my everlasting respect. I was in such a state that I couldn’t even take a photograph of him and it was only after a long long time that it buzzed into me. I should have talked to him. I should have taken a photo of him. It’s a remorse I will have for a long time.

The way back was nondescript for me, but quite otherwise for Kenny as I found out. Halfway down the trek where we had stopped for refreshments, there were some local vendors who were selling souvenirs and all of them happened to be Booms (nice ones yet again). I don’t know how, but Kenny had managed to strike up a conversation with not one but two of them!! He was stealing my thunder – here I was looking for a staid Boom to settle down with and there he goes crushing my prospects!!

Another 45 minutes and we reached base. The driver must have been tired stiff waiting for us. We had taken a good 5 hours to reach back at point zero. Tea was ordered for some and some decided for litchi juice from the same vendors. It was getting dark and we decided to hit the road towards Thimpu after finishing off the juice and water.

We didn’t have much time to wander around Paro as in the original plan plus it was getting dark. So we went off straight to Thimpu. Kenny dealt another blow when he waved a loud and cheery goodbye to the Booms he had talked to, while I was made to be content with watching the Booms from the back seat of the taxi, which wasn’t too bad either. I was back to staring at the Booms and wondering how the heck they get to be so beautiful.

Anyway, on the return the driver took us through another route that overlooked the Paro airport and the airstrip. I was back to my info-gathering mode and was asking the driver how much moolah the pilots made, whether they were expats or local people and so forth. Gyan commented that I shouldn’t become a pilot or else I would be scraping the flight and scaring the shit out of the passengers! First the bike, then the car and now the plane!!

It was getting to be dark, and we were left wondering if we should visit the golden Buddha the next morning or make it there right then. Keeping the Buddha point for the next morning meant we had to take a bus around noon, which meant we’d be late by the time we reached Madarihat. We wanted to reach Phuentsholing by noon so that we could savour the food of Zen restaurant once again, so we decided to go to the Buddha point then and there even if it meant getting to see it behind closed gates.

It was a steep climb to the point and the driver pointed out to many SUVs and cars parked on the road, saying they were of couples who wanted to be “alone”. Nobody bothered them it seems. I loved the country a bit more! We also learnt more about the country, how it takes care of the medical bills, how education is encouraged through government sponsorships and all the more reasons to like this country.

We reached the Buddha point, a towering Statue of the Buddha, bathed in gold welcomed us, albeit behind closed gates. The place was still under construction, and when it opens to the public I have no doubt it is going to be a place of inspiration for the masses. The Buddha seemed to be overlooking the entire city of Thimpu and even looking at the statue brought about a sense of calm inside. We tried to take whatever photos possible in the disappearing light and decided to head back to the hotel.

We also decided to go souvenir hunting since it was the last evening in Bhutan. Dutta went about buying razors. He was pissed off with the royal guard at the monastery and was a man on a mission. Kenny and I picked up solar powered prayer wheels. This was the start of Gyan’s indomitable antics and self-crucifixions that will provide us with unparalleled laughter for years to come! We do get these solar powered sunflowers there both in Bhutan as well in Delhi. Gyan asked us, miffed faced, why the hell we were buying the solar flower when we could get it back in Delhi. A stare back at him and a pointer to the solar powered prayer wheel had us all in splits – even the salesgirls. Gyan, our “underweight” darling, spreads happiness everywhere, as it was proved time and again.

Once into the hotel, we decided to get fresh and open the absolutely beautiful looking K5 whiskey. Snacks, that’s read pork, were ordered and not to leave behind Kenny, a fair share of chicken was also ordered. It was a Tuesday and we enquired at the reception whether we would be able to drink in our rooms. The sweet chap just smiled and told us we could in a way that can never be described through words. Ok maybe an attempt won’t hurt- so when we just whispered to him if we could get drunk in our room he just made a comment that it’s a dry day so we should just – and then he made an upward swooping motion with his hands and gave us a cute smile!

We all piled into Gyan’s room and started the mehfil for the evening. The pork, 3 plates of it, disappeared within the second pegs. So we ordered for 2 plates more. Strange, I could swear the 2 plates had just about the same servings as the 3 plates. But we didn’t complain, we had begun to love this place too much to complain about anything.

We all piled into the restaurant after the booze ran dry. I collected the fine bottle and packed it. It was going to be holding a proud stand in my growing collection of trophies – empty bottles of exotic and good whiskies and wines. Pork was again ordered and by that time the reception guy was aware of the fact that pork was the staple food for us. We decided I and Doley would run to the bus station early morning to get tickets for us. We decided we would take the bus back to Phuentsholing and give the taxi a miss. The buses there were Toyota Coasters that were equally, if not more, comfortable than the Versas. I didn’t stick around for much and headed back to our room and after packing off my stuff, promptly hit the sack and snoozed off.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T19:43:00.007+05:30

Day 4: April 13^th

Thimpu-Phuentsholing-Madarihat

I woke up several times in the night, looked up at my watch only to find out it was 0300 hours, then 0400 hours and then finally 0500 hours. It must be the fresh air up there. Then I woke up Doley and both of us scurried to the bus station. We walked, took in the fresh air, looked at girls walking early morning. I tell you, Bhutan is filled with beautiful girls first thing in the morning till dark!

We reached the bus stand and found it to be bustling with activity. Most of the buses were Toyota Coasters but we found out that on certain days of the week, Eicher buses also run in lieu of the Coasters. We walked from counter to counter, each of a different travel agency only to be told that the bus was full. The buses seat only around 18 people and Bhutan Transport System doesn’t allow standing passengers. We were finally directed by a nice (yeah, nice looking, with green nail polish too!) girl in a counter to try another counter. Fortunately that counter had seats but only for the 1100 hours bus. We took 5 tickets immediately and returned to the hotel. But we didn’t disclose the timing of the bus and told others it was at 0900 hours and we had to report half an hour before. The guys wasted no time since it was already 0700 hours and I meantime snuggled back into the bed for a quickie. A nap that is!

Then Gyan came in with a toothbrush. He was getting ready and grabbed the tickets on the table to have a casual look. The departure time was printed on the tickets and I was scared he’d see it. But then Gyan being Gyan took a very good look at the ticket, then announced to us that we better get ready on time. He had totally missed the time printed on the ticket!!

It was only after 0830 that he grew suspicious of me and Doley and demanded another dekko at the tickets. The moment he saw the time this time, he flopped back into his bed!

After a heavy breakfast that consisted of pork noodles, we weren’t yet satisfied. We ordered for more when the hotel guys informed us that we had milked the hotel dry of its pork stock! With our stomachs ready for the bus ride, we collected our bags and paid the hotel guy and bade that nice chap goodbye. He invited us once again to stay with him whenever we were in Thimpu. Inshahallah, we will soon.

We reached the bus stand well in time and the crowd had got smaller. We had some time to kill and we did that by roaming around. There we met Kinley and our taxi driver from the day before and we all shook hands hoping to come across each other some day.

The bus started at 1045 hours, premature. But since all the passengers had arrived, the driver saw no point in waiting. Also, we noticed that nobody checked anyone’s ticket. Everyone was seated calmly in their own place and the driver just announced it was the 1100 AM bus to Phuentsholing. Simple, beautiful. Nobody cheats, everybody’s happy.

The bus was eventful, plenty of action. Starting with the driver. He was handling the bus as if it was low cg Countach. We could hear the tyres squeal. Gyan had one of his fantasies fulfilled with that. He always dreams of sitting in a car with the tyres squealing mad and the wheel being turned clockwise infinite number of times.

Some distance into the journey, an elderly gentleman, whom we came to know as Mr Sonam from Bhumtang , turned on the music player in his mobile and went on to play some hindi numbers on it. We weren’t paying much heed to it until suddenly Creed’s “One Last Breath” came up and our eyebrows tweaked towards the sky. Eventually we chatted up and he came to know about us and we, about him. We learnt that he had been to a large number of places around the world and in India, but told us after all his years of travel, he had come to love India the best. He wasn’t even an Indian Citizen, but he said he found warmth in every nook and corner of India. A sincere smile came across our faces. We also chatted up with the bus driver and soon we had a good thing going on in the bus.

The journey was getting lull at times, so out came Gyan to our rescue. We asked Sonam Sir to pass on some zonkha songs into our mobiles so that we could listen to them sometimes. He gladly obliged and passed the phone to Kenny, but somehow Kenny couldn’t pair it with his Sony Ericsson. Gyan suggested he try since he had a Samsung, the same brand as Sonam Sir’s. He finally succeeded and transferred some 5-6 numbers and passed his phone to Kenny so that he could have the same. After Kenny transferred some songs, he tried to sample them and then found out he couldn’t find ay zonkha numbers. Puzzled he asked Gyan how many numbers he had copied. Gyan replied he had copied enough and then Kenny asked if any of them was a zonkha number. Gyan said no, nada, zilch, none. I turned to him and had just enough time to tell “Then why the hell do you think we passed the phone to you?” before I burst out laughing my ass off!! I wasn’t alone. The guys, Sonam Sir and the bus driver too had a swell time learning of Gyan’s antics. That’s why I say Gyan brings happiness to all people around him!!

We soon parked at someplace with a restaurant called “Hotel Damview” for lunch. We all piled in and had a look at the menu. Pork rice, Mutton rice and chicken rice were ordered. The guys had also ordered beer to go along with it. I wasn’t keen, but when Doley passed me a glass I had to take some out of courtesy!

I remember that the hotel served us some amazing food and even more amazing chutney. Red hot and absolutely lip smacking good! I will make it a point to eat at that place of I ever happen to make it through that road once again.

We reached Phuentsholing at around 1700 hours and crossed into the Indian side soon enough. I was sad to be leaving that place, the beautiful land, the cool and friendly people , the smashing beauties et all. But certain guys – Doley, Dutta, Gyan – were only too happy to be able to smoke legally. The moment we crossed over, the three of them lit up cigarettes. We didn’t want to waste much time and so went in search of a taxi, and found an Omni for 500 bucks. We later had to pay another 150 because of the inner roads we had to take to our guest house.

The Omni driver was flying his car like crazy, even braking like a formula one driver on a bridge. But we did good time and reached the locked gates of our guest house at around 1930 hours. Amid some confusion, we were let in. But we weren’t the only ones in the guest house. West Bengal Police and one official from my head office were also there, which meant we had to pile in one room. Fortunately the room was big and clean enough for all of us and the caretaker got some extra mattresses and sheets and pillows for us. That was all we needed and the soon enough we were sitting on the floor, snacks opened up, the courier bottle opened up and then – even flow!

We were well into our second pegs and Kenny and I noticed that Gyan was about to have his last peg. I reminded Kenny that he was going to waste precious liquid again. You see, Gyan has this nasty and utterly annoying habit of leaving his last peg unfinished. Be it Indian scotch, be it blended, be it single malt or be it a 25 year old Irish – Gyan leaves his last one half done. And it burns us from inside no end, especially since he gives no reason for it and says its always been that way.Dutta was also furious at that time and we all decided we wouldn’t serve him the last peg. Gyan was mad, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. So he sat a bit farther with a foul face, watching us take the last of the spirit in.

Suddenly he hit upon something and got up in a flash and walked, nigh paced, to my bag and fished out the K5 packet from it. I was just out of the bathroom then after a leak. He was pointing the bottle to us and uttered the ultimate line of the entire trip. It goes something like this – “Tum logon ko kya mein ch**** lagta hoon”. Twice. I knew what was going to happen and I was just at my wit’s end whether to fish out my digicam or to see the story unfold. I didn’t want to miss the forthcoming event and ditched the idea of the digicam and told Kenny to just wait and watch. He took up his empty glass and flashed his smile of victory at us and started pouring the whiskey. Moments later he realized that his glass was still empty!! And then he also realized that it was the empty K5 bottle that I had packed in my bag to add to my trophies.

The way we all burst out laughing must have been heard by everyone in the small compound. Gyan sat shell-shocked and red faced while we rolled on the floor, laughing as if we had been sprayed with nitrous oxide, tears rolling from our eyes no end. I don’t know how much I laughed but I know very well that I hadn’t laughed like that in a long long long long time. Gyan didn’t speak an entire word till the next morning.

Still having fits of laughter, we went downstairs to finish our dinner and sleep it off. We were planning to start early to beat the traffic at the border. Without much ado, we all dozed off, the quiet comfort of the air conditioned room lulling us to sleep very soon.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T19:34:00.005+05:30

Day 5: April 14^th

Madarihat- Guwahati

We knew we had to cover 450 km in a single day and that too in my car which was showing the problem of the “powertrain” intermittently. So we woke up quite early, started off with a mission to be at the border before 0900 hours and to beat the trucks. We were doing quite well, the powertrain warning light wasn’t on and doing a good, but cautious, 90 kmph towards Alipurduar. But the first folly happened when I overshot the turn towards Alipurduar and kept on driving. Only when the landscape started looking unfamiliar did we stop and ask a passer-by for directions. He guided us well and soon we were back on track. But even though we made it around 0900 hours to the border, the line of trucks had already burgeoned to an alarming length. We dodged, we dived, and we sidestepped and somehow crawled forward, occasionally having to stop behind trucks when there was no way to go. Fortunately my car on full power and I wasn’t facing any difficulties tackling the terrain.

Somehow, just somehow, we made it to the front and heaved a sigh of relief as we crossed over to Assam. I sped away as fast as possible and was doing a brisk trundling. But after a while the dreaded thing happened- the powertrain warning light came on again. It wasn’t a false alarm. But we drove on albeit at reduced speed.

In the meantime, we had been constantly phoning the transporter and trying to lock in on the position of the bikes. Several calls and several verbal abuses later, we found out that the bikes had arrived in Guwahati. But the initial cheer soon turned into worry as the office would be closed at 1600 hours and would remain closed the next day owing to Bihu. Our minds went on an overdrive now. Out came the cellphones and frantic calls were made. Gyan called up his dad and asked him to go to the transporter to somehow get the bikes out of the compound even if it meant having to bribe the guys there. At the same time, we were thinking of trying to skip the lunch arranged at the same place- my cousin’s friend’s home. Lunch was going to be a “heavy affair” and we couldn’t afford to lose time on lunch and beer. We tried to avoid it, made calls, but we were denied a denial! So it was decided we’d gulp down lunch as fast as possible, probably in my best estimate of 15 minutes and then run like hell. But the guys were skeptical saying that no matter what we’d take atleast half an hour. I was in no mood to delay anything. As it was, I was running on reduced power and we had a tight timeline to beat.

At this time, I could hear some furious honking from behind. I was doing my left lane at 75 kmph and anyone doing more than that could have overtaken me without any fuss. I was literally limping. I saw that it was a Nano. A bloody Nano was honking at me!!Cheeky bastard!! Then it overtook me, still honking. And then a Sumo Grande did the same. I was furious. Totally restless in my seat, helpless and burning to cinders. My car must have sensed it. Because the next moment, the powertrain warning light went off and I was back on full power!!! It was my turf now. Period. I was literally flying, even through a town. Then overtook the Nano with a relative speed of 50 kmph, horns blaring, lights flicking. Never saw that Nano again. The Sumo Grande was a tougher nut to crack. It even had some guards in it, and Gyan said it must be some hot shot with state police guards. I wasn’t going to give two cahoots to that and overtook the Grande in a furious battle of horses. Sure the Grande had 2.2 litres of diesel burning space and 120 horses emanating from the explosions. But I had a hot car and an even more hot-headed driver. It was almost like a drag race and I wasn’t the one to be throwing in the towel. Nobody was to bruise my red baby. Nobody. I slapped a distance of more than a kilometer between me and the Grande. And then when I was done, the light came back on. I love my car. I kissed on the wheel and cajoled sweet nothings to it. The Grande did overtake me later, but never honked.

Then came the good news – Gyan’s dad had pulled it off, so we could collect the bikes anytime of the day. The guys plans hit the roof at this and were acting like maharajahs after that – “lets stop for beer, lets have some rice beer, lets take it easy, lets collect he bikes on 15^thor even 16^th”. I wasn’t taking any of it and just kept flooring the pedal. Gyan suggested I turn the a/c off to add some extra 10 km to the hour. And by jove, it worked!!

We finally reached the designated place for lunch. We did stop at a dhaba before to satiate our extremely hungry stomachs. But we were warned not to have anything on the way and to save our appetite for the lunch. We had had bare minimum at the dhaba but still could not muster up enough space in our stomachs for what lay ahead. Assortment of dishes lay ahead and we were at a loss what to eat and what not to eat. Relieved by the news of the bikes, the guys digged in and splurged on the rice beer.

After an hour, we bid our goodbyes and started off towards Guwahati- some 110 km away. My car was running normal now and I sped off towards our destination. With the good news came elation and the music was turned up HIGH on Poets of the Fall. I could feel my car shaking sometime soon and turned to see that Dutta and Doley were head banging!! The rice beer had got them good!!! I even played tease me, please me with a black scorpio, much to the chagrin of Kenny! Finally, with no mood to be slowing down, I downshifted and floored the pedal and one minute later the Scorpio was a black dot on my rearview mirror.

Fortunately, my car was running normal now and by 1700 hours we had reached the airport and then breezily made it to the transporter’s godown. But the sight that welcomed us took away all the thrill of getting our hands on our faithful steeds. Curses flowed out in continuum for the guy who had promised the bikes by the 5^th of April. It was 14^th and the bikes were bruised bad. We collected the bikes and I escorted the guys to Gyan’s place. I came back to my place to freshen up and go back to Gyan’s place for dinner, albeit on my bike! I wasn’t going to be left behind!!

Payeng Da also joined us there and there he narrated to us that he had lost the consignment note for his bike and could not collect it that day. He was dejected too. We all were for all the right reasons, and decided to drown it over some Blenders Pride. Jayanti had made some awesome fish snacks and were “piranha’d” in no time. We narrated Gyan’s antics to Payeng Da and he too had a good laugh. See, I am right again – Gyan makes everyone smile.

In the meantime Payeng Da was offered the option to ride on a Yamaha Libero. But that meant having to wear a pink shirt- it is a tradition Gyan started and nobody dares break it. On the Libero, you had to be wearing pink and setting down your pillion on foot while you negotiate an incline. No bending the rules. We thought the pink shirt wouldn’t gel well with Payeng Da so I called up some IOCL juniors and soon had confirmation for a 150 pulsar. Payeng Da was more than happy at that.

Post dinner, I went back to my place while the guys stayed back at Gyan’s. We had to get out bikes serviced the next day before we were off to Arunachal.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T19:33:00.000+05:30

Day 6: April 15^th

Guwahati

This day was spent on the service of the bikes. The guys had breakfast at Gyan’s place, while I and Payeng Da went to my township to collect the bike. Once done with that, we assembled at Gyan’s place and then decided we’d sit in the evening at my place and meet some old college friends, Debajit Boro and Gyan Doley. It was a mad mad evening. Gyan Doley proved be another source of entertainment. Eventually after being almost on the verge of getting sloshed out, we hit the beds. Gyan and Payeng Da had gone off to their respective home, deciding on a time to meet up in the morning and start off the trip on two wheels!

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T19:20:00.005+05:30

Day 7^th: April 16^th

Guwahati- Tezpur- Bhalukpong

I received a message early morning from Payeng Da that it was time to wake up and put some rubber on the road. He must have been pretty excited. The ‘jugaad’ pulsar was a delight to ride he had found out the day before. Eventually all the guys were ready by 0630 hours and we were getting our noble stallions ready with all the baggage and bungee cords. Payeng Da also turned up at my place and we all set up readying our bikes.

Finally, at around 0720 hours , the five of us – Kenny, John, Doley , Payeng Da and I, flagged off from my place to the meeting point. Gyan and his Uncle were already there. Finally the Buccaneers were together!!

Without much ado, we started off towards the main road and were soon trundling along the highway. We weren’t doing much. The indo jap bikes up front thought the heavier Res weren’t speeding up, while the Res thought we weren’t riding fast for some reason. Then Kenny came up beside me and asked me “Why is everyone going so slow?”. I looked surprised and replied that we thought THEY were going slow. Then he twisted his right wrist and was soon doing 80 kmph. Suddenly all of our machines were on an overdrive!!! We all were making a beeline at 80 kmph, heads turning wherever we roared through. Seven Samurais. On steeds of various caliber. From various places.

We came to the Saraighat Bridge and were crossing into some unfinished roads but nevertheless doing a pretty brisk pace, which was maintained all the way to a small place where we stopped for breakfast. I was told that smoke was emanating from my exhaust and I thought it was due to some excess engine oil. But to my horror I found out that it was nearly running dry!! Fortunately I had one litre of engine oil in my saddle bag and emptied it half way. With some eggs and tea downed, we were set for ripping on the roads again. While we were assembled people gathered around us.

People: “ Are you on Bharat Bhraman?”

I: “ Yes”

People: “ Where are you coming from?”

I: “ Bhutan”

People: “ Where are you going now?”

I:” Tawang”

People:”Where will you go after that?”

I: “Delhi”

People: “You have ridden all the way from Delhi?”

I: “ Yes”

I like to keep my conversation simple. Don’t like paparazzi following us you see.

After the tea break, we were on the roads again. Kenny was surprised at the smooth tarmac and more so at the absolute green foliage that was on both sides of the road in generous amount. There were more sutta breaks in between and one happened to be right in front of a health centre! We were looking forward to lunch at Tezpur, but my engine started to emit smoke again. So I wanted to top up at the nearest Bajaj Service Centre. I found one at a small town and the moment I and Kenny made a stopover, people gathered around us and our laden bikes. The same questions followed and the same answers were given straight out the book! My centre stand had also given away and was clanging against the swingarm. The engine oil was topped up again and we sped off on our way, trying to catch up with the rest of the gang.

We arrived at Tezpur at noon and we made straight to Ceat Tyre Shoppe to have Payeng Da’s rear tyre changed. I and Gyan also made off to the nearest service centres to have our bikes changed. I went off looking for a particular missing engine cover which we suspected helped the engine oil evaporate. The search took me more than an hour, but finally had it.I returned to the tyre shoppe only to find the guys drinking beer sitting at the footpath. It took me a while to register the fact because I wasn’t expecting that while having the bikes’ works done.

By this time people were hungry with all the work done and we headed to a very much recommended KF lounge and restaurant. The lounge was comfy, spacious but the most special thing was it had an enviable assortment of drinks to offer including Glenfiddich and that too at very likeable prices. We splurged on Carlsberg and ordered fried rice for everyone.

With a nicely done lunch we readied our bikes once again. But Dutta had some shopping to do and he went inside the mall on the ground floor to get some shades- he’d forgotten his from Delhi. You see, Dutta has disgust for John Abraham, citing the fact that he looks and acts gay and it can be seen from the contempt he has for the John ads that come up on TV. But the first thing we notice is that the pair of shades he bought was a Fastrack- form the biker collection that John endorses!!! When I noticed closely I also found out that he was wearing a Fastrack watch!! This led to some serious laughs right by the roadside and we begged for some shots of Dutta wearing his shades. Dutta didn’t oblige. Pity. I wonder if his disgust is sincere. Sometimes superficial disdain is a mask for something more affectionate!!! It was during this course that Dutta earned the much talked about alias of John. Hail John!

We filled up our tanks and the jerry cans at a nearby petrol pump and roared towards Bhalukpong. We were all ripping on those smooth roads when Payeng Da had his first accident of the trip. He had an almost dangerous fallout with a stray cow, but managed without any serious damage. It did bend the leg guard though. It didn’t do anything to slow down the rest of the riders though.

We were closing in on Bhalukpong and we came to a turn that took us to the road to Bhalukpong and it was still in construction. So there was a lot of clay and slush around and marked the start of the first off-roading of the trip. The road took us to the Nameri Reserve and we got the first taste of the wild. Elephant trails, dense forests on both sides of the road, green light through the forest cover and a lone road running through it. I couldn’t have been happier. We were finally getting away from civilization and into the wild. Yeah, that’s my favourite catch phrase and it remains my motto all the time we go on a trip. Thanks to Alexander Supertramp! RIP! I always echo his sentiments on Lord Byron’s quote – “I love not Man the less But nature more”.

As we approached Bhalukpong, we could make out the hills, green and inviting, in the distance, amidst the shrinking rays of the sun. The road was shining like a silver river and it seemed hypnotic, beckoning us to ride on and on.

Soon, with all the brisk riding, we came to the check point at Bhalukpong and were stopped for entry by the Arunachal Pradesh Police. There was also a fair presence of Indian Army at the checkpost. We made the entries, which went off without any hassles, although Gyan’s Uncle made the mistake of taking out his handycam and shooting. Photography or videography is prohibited at the checkpoint and he was promptly asked to shut it off and we complied readily.

We had advance bookings made at Hotel Solu at Bhalukpong and went in search for it. It wasn’t hard to find, but there was some confusion regarding the booking. The travel agency at Guwahati seemed to have missed out on informing the hotel about our booking and after some failed attempts to contact the travel agency, the hotel reception allowed us in out of sheer trust. Hats off to these simple people. Really, beauty lies in simplicity and throughout the trip we have been exposed to the subtle yet warm hospitality that seems like second nature to the people of this place. We crashed into out rooms and freshened up as soon as we could. It was 1700 hours and we couldn’t wait to just sit back in the hotel lawn and take in the view of the snaking river below.

Soon we were all pulling up chairs at the lawn, and it wasn’t long before it was sunset and we had fished out a bottle of Blenders from our packs – one of the few bottles we’d packed up for the trip. The hotel staff was amazingly friendly and got to serving us good stuff in no time. I must mention that the glasses they had served us were awesome and the pleasure of downing the whiskey in those glasses, staring down at the moonlit river below was just about doubled.

Laughter flowed freely and so did the whiskey; the night had become just lovely; “with friends surrounded, the river flowing” …….

John started playing with a stray pussy that had come after the leftovers. While I tried to do everything to shoo it off, John did the exact opposite and just fell shy of kissing the pussy all over. Amidst all the jokes and the leg pulling it was soon time for dinner. But before that the hotel staff asked us to get down our bikes onto the lawn down a makeshift ramp. Seems like Arunachal has its fair bit of grand theft auto. We complied and all of us joined hands to bring down our bikes safe down the ramp. That wasn’t all – the hotel person just “unplugged” almost all of our bikes as an additional measure.

After a very fulfilling dinner, we headed to our individual rooms and made ready our sacks for the night. We had to cover Bhalukpong to Dirang the next day and we wanted to start as early as possible so we get plenty of time on the road for a leisurely ride.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T18:57:00.008+05:30

Day 8: April 17^th

Bhalukpong-Bomdila-Dirang

We were up pretty much early and I got to watch sunrise at the easternmost part of India. We ordered breakfast at the hotel itself and by 0730 hours, we were at the table, munching away at the heavy breakfast served to us. But the breakfast also ate into our time and it wasn’t before 0830 hours that we were finally able to get our bikes up the ramp and all set up for the ride of the day. We paid up the hotel for the food and told them that we had booking at the same place on our way back and pre-ordered loads of pork!

After a few snapping of cameras, we roared off towards Bomdila, the supposedly high point of the day’s itinerary. As soon as we left the hotel, bad roads greeted us and one was a particularly steep incline that we went down on. I was wondering if we’d be able to negotiate that incline on the way back through slush if it happened to rain. I didn’t have much time to ponder on it though. The dirt road veered my mind away to more important stuff like trying to keep my bike on the road!

My bike had been recently given new shoes – IRC street tyres and while they look slick, unfortunately they are slick –literally. I was apprehensive of them before but out here I realized my worries weren’t standing on lose ground. We soon encountered some slush and everyone was negotiating it with careful traction. When it came to my turn, I could feel my bike fishtail like crazy and it took every bit of my bike riding abilities to try to keep the bike steady and not to slide out and make me fall on the slush. I knew that I was in for a rough ride and kept praying we don’t across much rain or mud. God sometimes can play very funny as we would find out a day later!!

The next tract of the road was fortunately tarmac that kept leading straight up. The vegetation was dense, the cliff side giving us a view of the river flowing below, until the road took us so high that the river was lost somewhere down below. I remembered Arunachal being the most densely poisonous snake infested part of India. True to what I reckoned, there were plenty of “Nag Mandirs” on the way. Oh there were some more things that kept appearing at every 100 meter or so. Memorial stones of people who lost their lives to those treacherous roads. It reminded me of the memorial stones and crosses of Bolivia’s death road, but kept these thought to myself. Didn’t want anyone to think I was chickening out!!

The road was narrow and slippery, must have been the morning dew, and the vegetation was dense and green. There were banana plants in plenty, but sadly none of them were bearing any fruit at that time. I was still skeptical of my tyres and although the roads were tempting, I refrained myself from banking too much – an activity I particularly like!! And the incline also didn’t leave me much steam from the engine to try out my antics. After some time trailing behind Kenny, I noticed that one of his jerry cans was leaking and the whole can was wet. I signaled him to stop and we had a stopover where the guys had a sutta break while Kenny emptied the can into the RE.

Gyan’s uncle was in full form as he ripped his smooth machine R15 on those roads making mincemeat out of the other bikes. That bike is really in its elements when having to tackle turns, the delta frame easing up handling to a great extent. We did however manage to keep up at a slightly lesser velociferous pace. Gyan soon noticed smoke out of my exhaust and I figured my engine oil must be running low. I topped up again and this time I emptied the half litre into my bike. I would have to buy another litre at the nearest town that stocked engine oil of my engine’s specs. We had stopped at a waterfall that fell just by the road and all of us wanted a splash of the cool water. There were also two ladies that were driving an Alto all the way from Itanagar to Bomdila. Payeng Da and Uncle struck up a conversation with them and also happened to take some snaps of them.

After a while we rode off again, into the ever climbing road which took us to dizzying heights. The height might not have been as lofty as the ones we had come across Spiti and Leh but one look at the dense forests on the hills below dispelled any doubts that we weren’t exactly riding at mean sea level either!

In between we had quite some stopovers at what we perceived as good vantage points for some photographs. Indeed some very memorable photos came up from those stops. In between these stops, Payeng Da had his second accident. At a particular hairpin, his bike slipped into neutral and before he could take corrective measures, he had taken a fall. But fortunately this time also it wasn’t serious. Uncle also had his first fall on his R15 around the same time. Ouch! A fall on the R15 would hurt the bike more than it’d hurt the rider I guess! I’d hate to see those fairings crack.

Pretty soon, we came across the Tenga Valley, a very military prone area with lots and lots of regiments and corps having their units. Some particularly eye-catching signages were also captured on camera in the Tenga Valley.

It wasn’t long before we arrived at the gates that told us we had arrived at Bomdila. We were all of the idea that Bomdila was a pass, since it carried the tag “La” which meant a mountain pass. But it turned out to be a small town, and that too a low altitude one. We were growing hungry and were looking for a place to have our lunch when one god-sent person suggested we have it at a roadside motel some 8 km away from Bomdila.

I don’t know why but we took his advice and went off in search of that on-the-way dhaba. I kept a watch on the tripmeter and the moment I touched 8km I kept a sweeping view of the road. At 10km, we noticed a dhaba to the right of the road and hesitantly parked our bikes. We didn’t know whether it the one that the person had recommended us, but we were all too hungry to be riding on for any longer. That decision to stop at that place happened to take us to the place that served the best food in the entire trip!!! That little non-descript place, that place with no name, with only a plump jolly lady at the helm served us with one of the best food I have ever tasted in my entire life. I don’t know whether it was the everything-tastes-good syndrome, but will the riders echoing the same sentiments I was sure we had come across something worthy to be remembered for times to come. At first sight the serving seemed very big and I wasn’t sure I could finish it. But the food was some awesome that not only had I finished the first serve, but volleyed on to the second serving with much gusto!!

When we learnt from the lady that Dirang was just about an hour and half from that place, we ordered rum and also packed one for the trip. The lunch was lazy, with our aching muscles receiving relaxant in the form of the ‘OH’(read alcohol) group. We also chatted up with some truck drivers who informed us of the weather and the road conditions and one particular guy was so impressed he kept repeating “Aap logon ko man gaye Sir jee, really”. I just conveyed a coy smile, refraining from using words like “junoon” etc etc!!

After a long lunch, we were up and ready for our journey again and started up our bikes- to the stares from all the people around that place. We all moved away, one by one, till that placed disappeared behind some hill and wasn’t seen on my rear view mirror anymore. The road ahead was extremely bad and had some patches that were strewn with construction stones and we came across some landslides too. Where the R15 rips, we fall back, but when the roads are punishing, the R15 in punishing on the riders. The R15 takes its toll on the arms and wrists of the rider on these roads and it was at these roads that brought out the weaknesses of the bike. The R15 struggled to negotiate the road in second cog, with the engine having to be throttled hard to keep it in the optimal power band. The non premium fuel wasn’t helping either. When I overtook the R15 on these roads in the third cog at a measly 2000 rpm, I figured this is where the R15 really falters.

We soldiered on and soon enough we came to our designated retiring place for the evening – Awoo Resort. The moment we saw the sign board, we all shouted “Awoooooooooo” like some Tarzans let loose and roared up the road leading to the resort. My colleagues from office were there already and were watching us arrive, waving at us. They were with their family and we offered them quite a visual and sonic treat – the seven samurais coming up on seven steel stallions! I made small talk with my colleagues while the guys emptied the luggage and piled into the rooms allotted to us.

It was still early evening and we enjoyed tea among the fresh aroma of pine leaves. The stage was set for the festivities for the evening and after freshening up, we gathered up at the semi-terrace. My colleagues also joined in and some Blender’s Pride and some Black Dog shared pride of the table! But our gripe for the evening was that the food served was crappy and in extremely small measures. I was highly pissed off, especially after the good hospitality that we had received at Bhalukpong. To make matters worse they even ran out of dinner material and one or two of us had to go to sleep half full.

We called it a day after some hours of merry making; my colleagues went off to their respective families and we also tucked into our beds. The air was cold and the bed and blanket never seemed more inviting. Add to that some beautiful songs in John’s iPod and you have a sound sleep in no time. I need to show my gratitude to John for letting me have that iPod so often. It really did help me get into some deep slumber in no time at all. We all were asleep before midnight as we let our muscles relax themselves and ready up for the trip next day.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T18:34:00.009+05:30

Day 9: April 18^th

Dirang – Sela Pass – Tawang

This day saw us waking up groggily to the cold morning light. I wasn’t too keen on waking up early, egging Kenny and Payeng Da to get fresh first instead. Boy, am I growing lazy! But we were also keen on coming to Sela Pass after the disappointment of Bomdila the previous day. We decided not to have breakfast in the resort after their dismal performance with dinner. So we got some tea instead and set up readying our bikes again. Payeng Da got nicked in the thumb while packing his stuff but fortunately Kenny had his first aid stuff and it wasn’t a deep cut.

My colleagues had also woken up and were watchingus getting our bikes ready. His young son was bewitched…well that’s a lofty term, but you decide. That’s a look of pure delight on his face! I hope he learns riding fast!

We soon were ready and lined up in a formation. My colleagues and their families wished us good luck and waved us off amidst the delightful symphony of 7 roaring engines, raring to have a go at the roads again. We were soon on the road and ripping on the alternate patches of good roads and potholed stretches.

We stopped yet again at a smooth patch of road, albeit strewn with those small gravel that I’m always wary of. And here Payeng Da had his third fall. No from the bike, but he just happened to twist his ankle and just fall on the road. Gyan was so happy! That he wasn’t the one falling off from either the bike or in person. It was evident from his hearty laugh that he was relieved.

We rode on after we made sure Payeng Da was able to ride properly. I stopped at some kids breaking stones by the side of the road. They couldn’t have been possibly more than 4-5 years old. I tried to work up a chat and made small talk, starting by asking their name, which I ashamedly forgot a few days back. I asked them whether they went to school to which I was answered that they did go to school and because their school was closed they had come for work. They also told us where we would find breakfast, some place run by the army. I dint have any chocolates or anything with me to give the kids and I didn’t want to insult them by offering them money, so I just gave each a handshake and waved them goodbye, but not before clicking a few snaps of the subjects that could teach us an awful lot on humility and modesty.

We came across some view points where we made due stops for snaps and sutta. I might add to it that there’s heavy presence of the Indian Army in this part of the country, possibly due to the proximity with China. Soon after we came across a unit run wet canteen that catered to outsiders and the hungry souls we were, we ordered biryanis and dosas for everyone, topped up with vadas. The armyman serving us kept referring to us as ‘Sir’, something that pricked us no end. I brought this up with Kenny and the next time the armyman called us ‘Sir’ , Kenny asked him not to because we didn’t deserve to be called ‘Sir’ by the someone like him. Truer words were never spoken.

Then came a group of Northies in 3 Jeeps and make a ruckus out of that place, ordering the small kitchen as if it were their own in their souped up Delhi home. Bastards. I really hate these people who have no respect for the people of the land. Another incident that made me flare up was when the people shouted at the kitchen staff for making the tea a wee bit sugary. Hey d***heads, you have diabetes , so YOU don’t take the tea, don’t go about shouting at the people who make tea at these inhospitable heights and provide some respite to the needy like us. We just kept on making ugly glares at them. One Buddha came up to us and on noticing our bikes his first line was “Race laga rahey ho?”. These morons have only one word in their dictionary when it comes to bikes – Race. I wonder why these people don’t have accidents in those roads, only the good men die.

After a fulfilling brunch, we set forth , wanting to keep maximum distance from the disgusting group and made haste. But the climb was steep after that and we had to be content with pulling the bikes on the third gear max. Soon afterwards, the roads and the clouds became one and it was a misty-cloudy ride. We couldn’t see anything below and we couldn’t see anything above. It was surreal. Payeng Da’s glee was apparent as he went haywire taking endless pics!!

The end of the climb saw us making headway into the giant red gate that simply read “Welcome to Tawang”. We had arrived at Sela Pass!! The sign told us the altitude is 13700 ft above MSL, which meant we were at an altitude higher than Rohtang Pass. There was also snow on the ground and the hills and it was a first for Payeng Da and here again he went on a glee-trip, making headway into the snow and making poses for the cameras! Our Dear John had in the meantime ridden ahead to some distance and was taking in some solitary respite from our endless nagging. He was or rather is the awesome lone ranger. Respect, Respect once again.

We frolicked at Sela Pass for some time, took enough snaps of ourselves and our bikes and finally moved on. The Sela Lake presented us yet another beautiful panorama to just sit back and soak it all it. No wonder John didn’t oblige us. You could sit and stare at those snow clad mountains and the placid lake waters for hours on end.

We kept making way, asking occasional passer bys about the whereabouts of the Jaswantgarh memorial, a place that we didn’t want to miss. I wal always told – “ its further ahead” and I was beginning to wonder when we would finally reach the place. But we did, and there were ample signposts that told one you had arrived. There was also a canteen run by army people and served some really delicious samosas and tea. The memorial was a museum in itself and it told us the story of the heroic feat of Rifle Man Jaswant Singh Rawat, Maha Vir Chakra, who took a bullet in his head but not before taking out a Chinese MMG nest all by himself. The battle of Nuranang was well depicted in the stone and granite plaques at the memorial. I put on my shades while reading it because it made my eyes wet with sincere respect and simple awe. Later on the other guys also said they had gotten sentimental after reading of the battle. God Bless their souls because we enjoy our rides there only for them.

At the army run café, Kenny started a chat with Captain Arjun who happened to be going to Tawang for office work. He appreciated our spirit for adventure and after some time, we bade each other good luck and moved on. As we neared Jung our stomachs had started growling and we spotted a roadside eating joint. We all parked aside it and only when I was done parking the bike did I realize that there was a wine shop right next to it. Honest- I didn’t stop for the wine shop! It just happened to be there! Rice with chicken were ordered and we weren’t expecting much from the small place. So all of us sheepishly made a bee line for the wine shop. And WOW! What a wine whop. It has an amazing array of beer to offer, even pints. Carlsberg, Tuborg and Fosters were off the shelves in a jiffy and we were content on sipping some naturally chilled beer while lunch was being prepared. One more thing – the shop was run by a lady. This place saw us lots of ladies taking charge while the men were inconspicuously absent from the roads.

Our bikes had also drawn attention of the kids around and they just kept flocking the bikes one by one. We also made some time with them and shared some good moments with those kids. By the time we were done with our beer lunch was also ready and we sat around for lunch. It looked simple. Rice, dal and chicken curry. Looks can be deceptive and we rightly found out when the food turned out to be out of this world. India never ceases to amaze. We find the best of food in the least expected places.

We were told of a waterfall that wasn’t far away and that went by the name of Jung Falls. Since we had some time on our hands, we decided not to pass it up and headed for the falls. Amidst some confusing forks, we did arrive at the falls. There was a mini hydel plant that was running at full steam…make that full water!! The falls were majestic and we found out that some shooting for the movie “Koyla” had taken at the falls too. There were officials at the hydel plant and they were waiting for some high ranking officials from New Delhi, but they allowed us to park our bikes nevertheless. No fuss, no issues, nothing.

We were told the water “wasn’t cold” and that we could easily take a dip in the waters. I wasn’t too sure. These people are tough guys and we are a pampered lot, but one line from Kenny –“When do we get to live this life anyway?” - made me go for my speedo trunks and head for the falls down below. The steps were steep and the falls looked far away, but we made it after a while. Doley, Payeng Da , Kenny and I had decided to take a bath under the fall, while the rest of the Buccaneers decided to sit back and enjoy from a distance. It was 1530 hours and the sun had disappeared among clouds and by the looks of it , it was going to rain in a while.

We put on out swimming trunks and headed for the falls. It was absolutely freezing cold and the spray of the water was tight and forceful. So much so that it suffocated one if kept facing the spray non stop. We were fully wet in no time by the spray of the waterfall. It was as if a thousand fuel injectors were turned on and the blast was on us. It was impossible to go to the main cascade as the fall of the water was so hard and wide that it’d leave no breathing space and would simply sweep all of us off in the fast current. The droplets of water were coming down hard on our backs and we felt a thousand hard pin pricks, so we scurried off to a less “scathing” place. Fortunately there was a smaller water fall next to the main one, a small run-off from the main Jung Falls, but it provided us more than enough to deal with. We played the fools for quite a while, all the while taking swigs from the Blender’s Pride bottle straight. Had it not been for the alcohol warming our bodies we’d have been pretty good cases of hypothermia! I and Kenny stared up the fall and made the worst mistake of our lives. We looked up and shouted “Bring it on. Oh yeah! Is that all you've got?”!! God must have felt a funny bone tickle somewhere cause we were about to find out he has much more water in reserve for us!

We came back from the waterfall, dried ourselves and scurried back to our bikes for it was starting to rain. We were hardly getting our bikes ready when the hydel official asked us to hurry because the honchos from New Delhi were about to arrive and we’d have little space to move around. We did our best but the convoy had arrived by that time. The cool demeanor of the hydel official was amazing. He just asked us to make our way out slowly. Had it been some other place we’d have gotten a hell of a beating!

We hadn’t made it too far when the rain started becoming consistent. So all of us stopped to put on the rain suits. Payeng Da didn’t have one so he put on a makeshift one from a huge plastic bag that had been fashioned into a rain suit. I wasn’t too keen on wearing the lowers and asked Kenny if it was needed. When he and the others nodded their heads in the affirmative, I decided to go with the crowd. Thank God that I did for it started to rain cats and dogs a few miles away. The rain wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down, infact it grew to a torrential downpour. It was pitch dark in no time and we still some distance to cover before we came to Tawang.

I will never forget that ride. I was particularly more apprehensive because of my tyres. Already I was having a hard time trying not to skid the tyres too much, but there’s only so much you can do. At some points I will admit I did try to have some fun by spinning the tyres as they do in the movies!! But I decided it was no time and place to try out these antics, or I’d be a goner. The rain drops were harsh, almost like small hammers coming down hard on us and at one point of time it did rain hailstones. Gyan had problems negotiating the dark and stormy road due to his bike’s fixed fairing and also because his specs were fogging up. So I and Payeng Da took the lead through what seemed like a river literally. Our headlights were providing little help because anything beyond the reach of the beam was absolute pitch darkness. We were crawling at 5-6 kmph and we didn’t dare do more than that because even a single mistake would be unforgiving. People might ask us why we didn’t stop and avoid all the risks. The answer is plain and simple – we are tough guys!! Naah, actually there wasn’t much of scope of making a stopover as there were no hotels nor any bus sheds on the road, and it meant we just had to keep going. I remembered the Doors’ ‘ Riders on the Storm’ and at some point I actually hummed to myself to keep myself from drifting off. Some young people we found at a shop near the road did advise us to stop for the night as the road would grow progressively worse farther on. But having to stop meant losing precious time and we didn’t want that. Plus the rain wasn’t showing any signs of abetting. So we just carried on through the downpour, through the slush, through the darkness, through road that had become literally death road. I was privy to a spectacular sight that only a few people can be called lucky enough to witness – I saw lightning striking below us. This might be possible on a flight, as was the case with our icon John, but when you are on terra firma, it takes on a whole different meaning to it. When I come to mention lightning, it may be worthwhile to mention that the lightning was one of the major light sources and many a time it was only those that showed where the road was snaking!! One point our headlights picked up a milestone that said Tawang was 9km away. The initial elation that I had was soon forgotten when I had a look at my speedo – 5 kmph. That meant another hour of torturous climb at least.

I had a hard time managing to keep my balance with my super slick tyres in that raging slush and having a sprinter meant I couldn’t do the climb in the first gear as the tyre tended to spin at the slightest twist of the accelerator. So Gyan and I made up the climb in a cautious second gear. Finally we could make out the city lights and after what seemed like an eternity of riding through the tumultuous storm, we had finally set foot at Tawang!! Out relief knew no bounds as we headed to our pre-booked hotel. The first hotel of the same name didn’t offer us parking space so the hotel boy who happened to be Assamese as well took us to their second establishment that provided us parking space. We were soaking and dripping wet by the time we got off our bikes and the moment we were shown our rooms we took off our wet clothes and dumped them right outside our hotel rooms. Fortunately, our rooms had heaters and we wasted no time in getting our wet clothes to dry in front of the heater.

We were all tired and beat from the exhausting ride for the last 3 hours and we decided to hit the beds soon without further ado. We ordered whatever the hotel staff could conjure up for us hungry travelers. It was still raining outside and some of us still had the spirit to take on some spirits! But I was done for the day and after a brisk dinner, I decided to hit the bed. Sleep didn’t take much time to catch up with me. I had Dutta’s iPod to lull me to sleep even faster. I was hooked on to some numbers on John’s iPod , namely Airbag by Radiohead and Don’t Panic by Coldplay.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T18:17:00.006+05:30

Day 10: April 19^th

Tawang: Tawang: Tawang

And a sad day…..

Today was the day when we were supposed to take a trip to the neighbouring lakes and hills that made Tawang a hot tourist spot. But we decided to take it easy. We all got up pretty late, enjoying the warm comfort that our beds and blankets provided us. The sun was up and it hardly looked like a stormy night had proceeded the bright morning. It was an idyllic day and all of us were in a slow motion mood. John declined to go out for the day, deciding instead to laze around in the room. A wise decision as it later turned out.

After taking our own sweet time, we finally were ready to set off for the well recommended lakes – Madhuri Lake and P T Tso Lake. We passed through the town quite lot – blame it on the unknown roads and after a whole lot of just going round and round, we were finally shown the way to the lakes. But just at that moment Gyan’s Karizma started to give problems and the ignition kept cutting off when the handlebar was turned to the right. We couldn’t figure it out so we took Gyan’s bike to the town looking for a mechanic. We found one and soon Gyan’s bike was stripped naked and finally the fault was located. It turned out to be a broken ignition wire. The fixing took quite a while and by the time it was fixed, it was lunch time. We went to a restaurant and even ordered lunch only to find out it’d take an hour. Not having that kind of liberty with time we cancelled our orders and went to another smaller place that served quite a lunch.

We were running late and going by the fact that Madhuri Lake was 40 km away from Tawang, we decided we’d have to be content with the P T Tso lake that was 10 km away. So once again we set off towards the same road. By this time we had become a familiar scene in Tawang! But as luck would have it, Kenny and I were stopped at a check point while the others just kept zooming off. We honked but nobody looked back. I was pissed at that point but then didn’t have much to do anything about it. The military guard demanded our ILPs which we had left in our room. With little option left,I started off towards the hotel to get hold of the ILPs. Just as I was getting to the hotel some government vehicles overtook me with breakneck speed and I was wondering what was going on. The moment I entered the hotel I saw people rush out and go to a nearby hillock. I asked the reception what was happening when he replied that hardly a minute back a helicopter had crashed at the helipad that was very close to the hotel. I rushed up to the terrace and could see smoke billowing up in the distance. It was the chopper burning up. I had never seen anything this sad in my life and could actually see and hear the chopper blowing up. I called Dutta from his room and we were witness to the flames engulfing the wreckage. Ambulances, police cars, state vehicles – all seemed to have arrived at the helipad but the fire tenders were nowhere to be seen. It was truly a gut wrenching sight and try as I might I stood riveted at my place.

Finally I thought of going and atleast getting to the guys who might have been waiting for me. But as I was going off in their direction, I saw them approaching me from the opposite direction. I was informed that following the crash the army had closed down the roads and even if we were allowed to go through the road conditions would mean we would have to come back anyway. We later learnt that the vehicles that had gone to Madhuri lake in the morning were turned back because of the excessive snow on the roads. With all this fiasco I was in no mood to roam out any more. But Payeng Da and Uncle went to visit the Tawang Monastery.

Soon after we learnt from Payeng Da that the shops of Tawang had closed down as a mark of respect to the victims of the chopper crash. We later found out that the crash left 17 people dead. The pilot and flight engineer had made it, but barely. May God bring peace to their souls.

We weren’t upbeat in the evening and moreover we had a long hard ride the next day. We had to do Tawang to Bhalukpong in a single day which meant we had to combine two days of rides into a single day. It was a long 286 km that we had on our sights for the next day and so without much ado we had an early dinner. Prior to dinner Payeng Da and I had gone in search of the local brew “Ching Chang” but didn’t find any. We had to be content with some distillate stuff that we found totally undrinkable, all but Kenny. Boy, was he on a roll. He kept on downing glass after glass much to our amazement.

We went off to sleep in mild anticipation of what the next day would hold for us.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T17:54:00.007+05:30

Day 11 : April 20^th

Tawang-Sela Pass-Dirang- Bomdila-Bhalukpong

This was a day we’d remember most of our lives. We all knew that time was of the essence and this fact wasn’t lost on anyone. We all got up fine and dandy just around sunrise and by 0530 hours we were all set to go. Infact the hotel staff wasn’t awake yet when we left. The road looked all too familiar to us and we didn’t linger around but made it straight to the road that would lead us down below…all the way to Sela Pass. We all tanked up at the sole petrol pump outside of Tawang and kept riding. It was only in the morning light that we found out the road we had taken two nights ago. It was sheer madness. There was still slush around and we counted our lucky stars that none of us had any mishaps on that night.

The road kept leading us down and wesoon reached Jung and crossed without making a stopover. The guys were on a mission. The only stop we made was at the café at Jaswantgarh where we had some tea and samosas for breakfast. We didn’t want to stuff ourselves too much because we were all looking forward to having lunch that the same un-named dhaba near Bomdila – a place that served us the most memorable food in this entire trip. We sped on and were making a brisk pace and soon enough we came to Sela Pass. There we found out that it had snowed heavily the night before and there was ice everywhere. We had to be careful and with that in mind all of us slowed down. Gyan, Doley and I were in the leading flank. I was doing hardly 25 kmph when suddenly I just turned turtle and the bike was on me. I fell hard on the ground. I had no idea how I fell off. The guys following me also had no clue how I just happened to fall. Some suggested it was the ice, some suggested the brakes locked up – but I never braked in the first place, some suggested I was taken aback with the breathtaking view. But I suspect it was the evil eye John had put on me! I was hexed! There is no other plausible reason!! One doesn't fall off a bike just like that!! It was my fault, I had been pulling too much of John’s legs.

My arm, my knee and my ankle were hurting like hell and I was still pinned down under my bike. The engine was still running, and I could just reach out and turn the ignition off. I was just praying that I didn’t break any bones or something like that because that would be real trouble at this place. Gyan and Doley, who were behind me, rushed to my rescue and lifted the bike and me up. I could hardly stand and my arms were like frozen solid. The extremely chilly wind that was blowing the crap out of us wasn’t helping either. I was numb with the cold and before things got worse with me Kenny advised I should ride down to warmer temperatures. I couldn't agree more and somehow made limped to my bike and started it. Fortunately, the bike hadn't suffered any major damage, only the front fairing had taken a slight beating. I took off, not waiting for any time at Sela Pass. I wanted to get away from the freezing environs as soon as possible. I did whatever speed I was comfortable with without putting too much strain on my elbow which hurt continuously.

Inspite of the mishap we weren’t too far from schedule and we crossed Dirang around the same time we wanted to. Not wasting much time we kept the breaks to a minimum and kept riding hard. Doley was on a roll and so was Gyan on this day. I was just happy to be going decent with my arm. Gyan was riding so hard that he made it to our beloved dhaba with a grand entrance. He made a screeching halt at the dhaba and spooked the lady! She cried out “will you go out flying to your destination?”! Gyan replied that he couldn’t wait long to taste her food and that’s why had come riding like a madman. They had already taken out a beer by the time I and Dutta reached there. But just before that place, Uncle’s R 15 suffered a puncture, but fortunately there was a repair shop nearby that mended the tube. Kenny and Doley helped Uncle with that. Yeah, Uncle’s R15 was running on tubes. His alloys had taken some nasty beating earlier and tubeless tyres wouldn’t hold air for too long. It was during this stretch that Payeng Da also escaped a collision with a Santro.

I finally opened up my jeans and saw the damage done. There was a deep red patch on my left knee and I sanitized it using savlon. I didn’t dare open up my shirt; I was too scared to see the extent of damage done to my elbow! I wanted to ride on and clean up only in Bhalukpong.

Lunch was again amazingly, awesomely good and post lunch Payeng Da decided to take a power nap which he badly needed. It was 1430 hours and we decided to move on if we were to make it to Bhalukpong before nightfall. I clamped up, not even opening my rain suit, not wanting to expose any of my skin to the cold air. We hit the road again and soon crossed Bomdila. After Bomdila the weather played tricks on us. There was a heavy veil of mist in the hills that made riding a tough proposition. Add to it a very wet road and you have a near perfect recipe for an accident. We played extremely safe and kept to a single file, our headlights and blinkers turned on, horns blaring at every possible corner and turn. The mist would keep coming and going but seemed never ending. We rode for atleast an hour in that mist,but hardly made anything more than 25 kmph. I was even more wary because the slightest upset would make my rear tyre take a spin for itself and take me with it. I didn’t want any more falls for the day and one more would have crippled me. It came to the point that the visibility was down to just about 5- 10 meter when the guys decided to take a break. And what a break. A beer break it was. That too in the chilling cold!

I wasn’t in the mood for beer, I just wanted to get to the hotel fast and nurse my wounds!! But the mist wouldn’t let go of us till we reached the very bottom of the hills. And then the slush started. We had crossed this stretch on our way to Dirang, but

it was dry at that time and now it was fresh mud after a spell of heavy rains. It was just unspeakably slippery and all of the guys were just about making it 10kmph. I was even more careful, because my tyre was slipping like crazy and my rear end was fishtailing left and right. I was trying to ride on whatever dry patch I could find even if that meant me going off the road for a while. My arm had started to act up and was aching like mad. I was just hoping against hope this stretch didn’t seem as long as it actually was. In this melee I could hear John shouting verses of self motivation! His voice could be heard above the sound of my engine, through the helmet and above the sound of the river raging below! “Oh Yeah, Yes F***ers, Oh yeah, C’mon now” was all I could make out when I stopped to see if John was crying for help!

Some distance into the slush, Payeng Da slipped and his bike just leaned on him slowly. We got the bike up from him and helped him to is feet, but there was a government vehicle that was honking impatiently shouting as to why we had stopped abruptly. When he came abreast of us we told him one of the guys had fallen down. “Acchha” was all he said, bloody bugger. And the irony of it all – it was a medical jeep!

We somehow kept going, Doley at one point getting absolutely frustrated, my tank hitting reserve and giving me a scare when the engine went off. Nevertheless we kept inching forward until we saw some lights up the distance. It wasn’t Bhalukpomg, but a small place 5 km from Bhalukpong. But the very fact that we were within 5 km of Bhalukpong made us race towards it. Soon enough we saw the hotel signboard!!! The incline I was dreading didn’t turn out to be too bad. Somehow the rain hadn’t affected it much. I was rushing towards the hotel but a wrong turn made me go some other way instead, much to the amusement of the guys who woke up the entire town with their guffaws!

We finally got to the hotel where the hotel staff had been patiently waiting for us. They had already kept the ramp ready for us to lower our bikes onto the lawn. It was almost 9 pm and the last 10 km had taken a toll on everyone. We just wanted to have a hot bath and a light meal before hitting off to a much needed sleep. They amazingly good staff at the hotel had actually kept a whole lot of pork for us since we had requested them to do so when we had left for Dirang from their hotel! The guys piled into our room for some drinks to soothe their aching muscles while I tried to take a short nap after popping in a paracetamol.

Doley woke me up when it was time for dinner and I had a shock when I saw the amount of food that had been served for us. We ate whatever we could and kept the leftovers nicely stored in the containers. I thought it would be a shame to waste such good food and we decided we’d have the same stuff for breakfast the next day.

We also decided we’d start at around 1100 hours the next day and reach Guwahati by evening time. I was having problems with my leg and arm and decided to sleep early. I rubbed some muscle relaxant but that wasn’t helping much. I wasn’t the only one hitting the bed early. All of us took to our beds as soon as we had finished off dinner.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T17:40:00.004+05:30

Day 12: April 21^st

Bhalukpong - Tezpur- Guwahati

We all got up late this day. We all had this thought in the back of our minds that we wouldn’t take much time to make it to Guwahati. This and the fact that we were ending the trip made us even more lazy as we wanted to stay as much as possible in Arunachal. I told the hotel boys to take our leftover food and just warm it up for breakfast. Not only did the hotel warm it up for us, they made some excellent pulao out of the leftover rice and didn’t charge us at all. But the food and beer bills did come to a hefty amount. We had been hogging at every place we stayed or stopped and our food bills were in no way modest any time.

Since we were in a lazy mood, we decided to head to the river below and spend some time by the waters. After taking the directions from one of the ladies in the hotel, we headed down a short flight of steps that lead directly to the road below. I was having trouble negotiating the steps due to my bruises and was walking or rather crawling like a sidewinder! The guys videoed me and made ridicule of me, but I had a souvenir worthy of this trip – a scar on my left knee!

We ultimately made it to the river and the guys had a splishy splashy time in the waters. I stayed on the shore and just took in the morning sun and the cool river breeze. With nothing much to do, I collected some stones that I found pretty. We did linger around till noon by the riverside and then decided it was time to take to the roads again.

We were able to leave the hotel at around 1400 hours finally. We thanked our hospitable hotel staff and mounted our bikes once again. We roared towards the check point and made our exit entries, which happened to be a mere verbal formality.

As soon as we left the check post, dusty and unfinished roads were waiting for us and finally when tarmac arrived, we sped like crazy. At this point Payeng Da had an unfortunate accident when he slammed into a lady on a bicycle. I was right behind him and helped the lady to the side of the road. You have to give credit to this part of the country. Had it been in north India or elsewhere, people would have started pounding fisticuffs first and then would have bothered to listen, if they ever do that it. But the lady was patient and we applied muscle relaxants and bandaged her bruises. Payeng Da also paid 500 rupees for the damages to her bicycle and we left the place soon after.

Fortunately after that there were no more accidents, only incidents! We filled up petrol for the last leg of the journey at a HPCL petrol pump. But Kenny was confident his tank would take him to Guwahati without any ado. His was a belief that was to be smashed later on.

This time we decided to skip the slush roads and take an alternate route through tea gardens and that provided Kenny with some pretty green vistas to see. We stopped for a couple of times for smokes and the guys were eagerly looking for a beer joint. There are some things synonymous with Assam – wine shops. We all knew that we would come across some very soon and with this thought egging us we rode on. I was particularly eager to make it to Guwahati because my arm wasn’t getting any better. Man, you shouldn’t irk John Abraham. Take it from me. Not wanting to waste much time at the small towns, we rode on or rather I urged them to ride on till Tezpur which was just 24 km away.

The first thing that greeted us when we arrived at Tezpur was the KF Lounge yet again. But sense prevailed and we thought of moving on and having some food and beer at some road side dhaba, which would be easier on our pockets as well. After taking the bypass I remembered one particular joint on our way to Bhalukpong and told Gyan to be on the lookout for that. The joint turned out to be a particular Rangeela Bar , and we all piled in and ordered some chilled beer for all except for Payeng Da and Uncle, who decided to go for some food instead.

After all of us had our fill, we just headed towards Guwahati, but not before making a sutta break some 10 km after leaving the Dhaba. It was growing dark and the increasing heavy vehicle traffic made riding a tad difficult. People buy cars in hordes but hardly anyone knows how to use the dippers. They drive with the headlights blinding people heading towards them. At those times I feel like driving an SUV with some Xenon projectors plus some HID lamps and just blazing them at those morons, sometimes to the point of driving them off the road. Some people do understand when we blink our dippers and get the point. But some are stubborn or just plain retarded.

Yet we tried to move in a single file, but Uncle and Gyan sped off leaving the rest of us to ride together. Gyan has this habit of sprinting like crazy and leaving the rest of the group behind for a good distance. This becomes annoying at times, because we all have this urge to sprint on open roads but make it a point to come back to the group after a while. It was during this absence of Gyan that Kenny’s bike spluttered and came to a stop. I and Doley were some distance ahead and soon received a call from Kenny. It looked like his tank had run dry. I tried calling Gyan, but he was nowhere. So I and Doley went about looking for petrol pumps some distance ahead, but when we didn’t come across any for about 15 minutes, we decided to head back to Kenny and look for one the other way instead. In the meantime Dutta had siphoned off some petrol from his tank to Kenny’s. I also reached around that time and lent some fuel from my tank to Kenny. We decided to ride at optimal speed to conserve fuel till we reached a filling station.

We found Gyan waiting at the filling station where Kenny and Payeng Da filled their tanks. There we found another person that I would like to mention. The attendant was a huge guy, but his manners floored us. I haven’t met a nicer person at a filling station. In fact after we filled up, he thanked us and said “Achha Sa’ab, Shukriya, Ab mein chalta hoon. Dhanyabad.” and went to deposit the cash at the counter!!

It was a ride after that in the night and we were getting closer and closer to Guwahati. We stopped for once more near a bridge for a sutta and water break, but moved on quickly after that. The trip after that wasn’t much to talk about till we came across Saraighat Bridge and then were immediately greeted by dust and dust everywhere. I must have taken in a kilo of dust inside me. We gathered together near the Rajiv Chowk and after filing up, we took the outer ring road towards Gyan’s home.

We arrived at Gyan’s home at a lately 2230 hours after which we quickly washed our dirty faces and Gyan fished out a bottle of whiskey from his father’s stock and served us one last toast. Payeng Da and Uncle had gone to their respective homes. I declined for the whiskey – I was too tired and my hands were still hurting. We narrated some stories to Jayanti, Gyan’s better half, over dinner but saved most of them for our blogs.

We didn’t stay back after dinner and went off to my place at around midnight. On the road a guy on an Activa or something like that came abreast us and asked us in high-pitched excitement where we had come from, where we were going etc etc. We let Doley deal with it and finally he let us go!! It didn’t take long for us to go to sleep after we entered my apartment. I had a quick shower and just plonked onto the bed.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T17:38:00.000+05:30

Day 13: April 22^nd

Guwahati

We were to book the bikes on the train on this day and so we didn’t have the luxury of getting up late in the morning. We didn’t keep the booking for the evening and decided to do it in the first half itself, and so we went off towards the railway station – I in my car and the guys on their bikes. Gyan had decided to keep his bike at Guwahati for a while, so he skipped out. We arrived at the railway station and went to the booking office. But someone guided us to the other end of the station to book the bikes. So I took the foot overbridge and the guys rode to the other side of the railway station. Amidst much confusion we were again directed to the other side where we were told the booking would take place. We finally arrived at the cloak room where the bookings took place, but had to wait till 1400 hours for the official to arrive. We were expecting an old grouch but the person turned out to be surprisingly pleasant and helpful.

But like always there was a hitch. Doley and Dutta’s bike were booked without any issues as luggage, but since Kenny had his bike under his father’s name he had to book it under parcel category. Don’t ask me, but that’s how the railways work. So we had to take his bike once again to the other side of the station and booked the bike in parcel. It was almost 1600 hours and we were getting hungry. But we still had to come to the railway station in the evening to personally talk to the person who would be loading the bikes onto the luggage compartment to ensure the bikes reached Delhi with them in the same train.

So to kill time we went off to momo house to get some momos that Doley and Dutta had been hankering after. We also went through the old streets of Guwahati where Doley and Dutta grew nostalgic and Dutta kept remembering places where we owed money!! After picking up some food, we decided to pick up some beer and head for the riverside. We went to the riverside and I parked my car right by the side of the road and we sat and had some refreshing beer with rolls and momos. It was just so relaxing to just sit there watching the river and sipping on some chilled beer. But we couldn’t stay there for long since we had to go to the railway station once again and we also had a post-trip party scheduled at my place. We had also invited Prateek and Shushant from my office who made it possible for Payeng Da to take on a well- abled bike for the trip.

We all gathered at my place at around 2030 hours and then music and beer and scotch flowed freely. We were also celebrating Payeng Da’s advent into becoming a father!! It was a merry evening where we recounted the events of the trip, and so wished it never ended!

But we called it a night and people left for their respective homes. The guys had an early morning train to Delhi the next day and we didn’t want to jeopardize it.

The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

2011-05-18T17:35:00.001+05:30

Day 14: April 23^rd

Departure from Guwahati to Delhi

The very next day I was woken up by Kenny. I groggily got up and got ready while the guys packed up. At around 0615 hours we started from my place and went off to the railway station. We made it with not too much time to spare and I just bade a brisk good luck to the guys before I dropped them off.

I drove back home feeling kind of woozy. I always feel that way after a trip. Good trip, amazing comrades, good places, good people and laughter and fun always make me loathe the mundane life I was to start again from Monday.

The only thing that keeps me going is the hope for another run on the roads, and soon. It’s one of the few things that I try to find solace in from this mad mad world and this is one of the few things that really bring out the fact that there is still something, some people to look forward to. An escape into the wild……

Read another version of the trip at:

http://bhutanchalbuccaneers.blogspot.com

Photos of the trip at:

https://picasaweb.google.com/nilu.hazarika/BhutanchalBuccaneers#

2011-05-18T17:13:00.007+05:30

Out Of The Wild

2008-09-26T16:06:00.003+05:30

Day 14 : Trip 1880 km

Panipat - Delhi ; 19.09.08

Nobody woke up early this day, tired as we were from the hard ride the previous day. Even Gyan got up at 1000 hrs thereby dashing any hopes of making it to his office on time. Shrugging mildly, he just took another day off. The rest also got up fashionably late at 1130 hrs. I and Gyan went downstairs to check on my bike, and there I found that my rear tyre was acting up again. It was bizarre , we just couldn't pinpoint the source of leak. Gyan had already given his bike to the local mechanic for repairs and I told him I also had to get my chain checked and get the tyre fixed for good. So I submitted my bike too for the repairs and also for a wash. The wash created some problems with the starting as water had seeped into the CDI and my bike's rear tyre was running totally flat now. We somehow made it to Gyan's garage and the mechanic located and repaired the tiny puncture.

At around 1700 hrs we were all set to leave for Delhi but the weather had been damp the whole day and barely had we refilled at the COCO petrol pump, it started raining cats and dogs. It was as if the heavens were waiting for us to come out with our bikes and then turn on the tap! No use waiting for the rain to subside , we thought , and thundered along the highway to Delhi making brisk pace till Murthal, where we stopped at Kenny's favourite No 1 Ahuja dhaba for some paranthas and dal. It was already 1900 hrs when we arrived there, the 50 km ride taking double the time as a ride in the sun. It was a boring ride to Delhi, made much more unbearable by the rain and the inevitable humongous traffic from the border on. Our ride had turned into a crawl, us trying to move on with whatever path we could find between the heavy trucks and cars.

Just as we entered Delhi, near Majnu-ka-Tilla, the rains suddenly got worse and we were pelted with huge drops of water that came down on us at terminal velocity. Initially we had planned to hold a post-trip party on this day itself, but it was plain that we could not do it today. So Gyan moved on to Malviya Nagar, I and Jill to Lajpat Nagar, Anshu and Kenny to their respective homes after dropping the carabin rentals at South Ext. We all made a plan to meet at Anshu's place the next day for the celebrations of a trip well traversed. It was exactly 2200 hrs when we entered Jill's place, exactly 14 days after we flagged off from that place itself. Our bikes bore the signs of a hard trip - one of the LED rows of my tail lamps went kaput, while my front shockers have started emitting a constant squeak. But never a let down, even from my rear tyre. And like Kenny has rightly said, it was a complete experience : Sunshine, wind, rain , snow. Highways, state roads, no roads. Camp-outs, budget hotels, luxury hotels.

We have already started discussing our winter trip of the Indian west coast, and hope that similar comrades will be part of it -comrades who have stuck thick and thin throughout. Of course, outcasts like Nawab are declared impotent and disgraceful for bike rides EVER!!

more pics of the trip at:

http://picasaweb.google.co.in/nilu.hazarika/SprightlySpiti

and

http://picasaweb.google.co.in/viks2mots/BOPEnduroMotoToLahulSpitiAndZanskar

Read another version of the trip at:

http://butcheredsoul.blogspot.com/2008/09/spiti-september.html

Out Of The Wild

2008-09-26T14:03:00.015+05:30

Day 13 : Trip 1745 km

Shimla - Narkanda -Dharampur - Panipat

As decided last evening, we all had one healthy breakfast at the hotel, tipped the helpful waiter and got invites to the hotel again for the snow season. Jill was reeling under a hangover and he promptly went back to sleep after his breakfast. We all waited for the laundry to arrive since it was only then that we'd be able to pack up. The laundry arrived at 1130 hrs and we promptly packed up. Jill also got up groggily and set up his bike. When it was time to move downstairs, I found my rear tyre was flat - again. It was acting up again. I immediately set up the foot pump and inflated the tyre to 30 psi and I thought I would have to keep on checking the tyre pressure and regularly inflate the tyre. But thankfully and surprisingly I didn't have to. The tyre retained its pressure throughout the ride till Panipat. Strange, very strange. At the hotel parking lot, this kid comes with his grandad towards our bikes and starts admiring us. The kid's grandad was impressed when we told him of our trip itinerary and after a few minutes of conversation they bade goodbye to us. Even the hotel receptionist appreciated our zest for bike rides and told us that it really takes something out of the ordinary to be able to tolerate such long and hard rides.

1230 hrs and we were all set to leave the hotel . Anshu took his own sweet time getting his Electra started and it was only after he got it started that it was green signal for us to go, as it was for the entire trip! It started drizzling some half an hour later, barely out of Shimla. It was tolerable for a while, but then the rain got wilder and we had to stop and get our rain suits out. It remained that way throughout the trip. We passed the familiar Narkanda chowk ( we had been there earlier on our Chail trip) and ripped on the now better highway. But the rains after that made us slow down and the traffic started getting worse. One particular white sonata embera was being driven rash and posed a hazard to the riders until we let it pass by, and even then it narrowly missed getting hit head-on by a jeep from the opposite direction. Morons! When will people learn to drive sensibly on wet roads and that too in the hills?

Somehow, inexplicably, no one's rain suit was working perfectly and all of us were getting drenched. I was particularly wet to the skin. We had intended to stop at Dharampur for lunch at the same place we had breakfast in our Chail trip. By the time we reached the place at 1600 hrs, the rains were showing no signs of abating. I was thinking that once we moved out from the heights of Shimla and adjacent hills, the rains would stop. But there was to be none of that. While we tried to dry our wet clothes as much as possible, Jill,I and Vikram made some buys of pickles, jam and wine. Somehow, we managed to cram all that into our already overstuffed bags and rucksacks. I was particularly concerned about the wine bottles in my tight backpack but fortunately they made it all the way to my place safe and sound.

I had wanted one particular shot of us with the "trip" tshirts and finally it got realised at the restaurant at Dharampur. Everyone ordered paranthas while I settled for some fried rice. Anshu tried some exotic sounding lemon chicken, which turned out to be actually nice. The rains lashing outside didn't seem like stopping and we decided that we'd better ride in the rains itself, or else we'd be quite late reaching Panipat. So we rode out in the rains again for what seemed on long long ride, made all the more difficult by the relentless shower. It seemed the heavens were really pouring down on us.

Town after town we moved on, covered distances , traffic jams, wild and mad drivers at Zirakpur and fast cars and buses on NH1, but still the rains showed no signs of slowing down. It was a wet wet wet ride alright. We covered the distances in a line, Kenny up front and the rest following him like kids following a dad, all the while drawing attention from passing cars, trucks and buses alike. Fortunately none of us had any issues with our faithful bikes and my rear tyre was also running ok. We stopped somewhere near Ambala for a hot cup of tea when it got just too tiring to ride on in the rain.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally arrived at the "pepsi pool", a turn from the NH1 towards the Panipat refinery township. Vikram wanted to carry on and make it to Gurgaon the same night itself. Inspite of trying to deter him at our tea break itself, the big man wouldn't budge and he roared on NH1 towards Delhi, only after making him promise that he'd intimate us on reaching his home safely. We took the road leading to Gyan's place after one police patrol interrogated Gyan about our bikes, our motives, ourselves! But just 2 km before the refinery , Gyan had a blow out of his front tyre at a couple of particularly nasty bumps on the road. There was no option but to limp home and get it repaired the next morning. We arrived at Gyan's place at 2300 hrs, completely bushwhacked and tired to the bone. Anshu was so tired he was not even ready to unstrap all his luggage from his bike. With a little help from Kenny, Gyan and me, he had all his stuff inside Gyan's apartment in a while. We had been riding 11 hours straight in the rain!!

Fortunately there was a little rum from the trip and a little whisky at Gyan's place that helped us soothe aching muscles. We had some cup noodles from the trip and we used the very kerosene stove used for the campsites to boil water and make the noodles. Dinner consisted of rice and some chicken curry made from the ready-to-eat packs we had taken for the camping sites. Whisky/rum accompaniment was the pickle I had picked up from Dharampur. People were relatively quick to have their dinner and I didn't wait for anyone to go to Gyan's bedroom and snuggle into a much needed sleep. Gyan had his office next morning and he had dozed off right where we were having the whisky/rum.

Out Of The Wild

2008-09-26T12:13:00.005+05:30

Day 12 : Trip 1474 km (idle)

Hotel Himland - Shimla Bus Stop -Hotel Himland ; 17.09.08

17th of September was one lazy day for the riders barring Jill who was up and ready by 1000 hrs. Jill had truly come to his territory - people, traffic, civilization. While the rest of us spent the morning lazing under the warm sheets, watching some good Dharmender-Jeetender-Raj Babbar-Danny flicks on the TV, Jill was impatiently trying to rejuvenate us into going out and explore Shimla. Sadly no one shared his enthu and we all laid back in our warm beds. Anshu, Kenny and Vikram in fact fell into deep slumber after their breakfast!! Jill was frustrated as hell , and he went out alone for a while, returning clean shaven and with a pack of masala peanuts after a while. He finished the remainder of the RS leftover from the last evening. I took a hot bath and was in the mood for the movie "Rock On". We enquired at the hotel reception about the cinemas and timings for the movie. The nearest was Shahi cinema, and we were told that the show timings for the movie were 1400 hrs, 1700 hrs, 1900 hrs and 2210 hrs. It was too late to catch the 1400 hrs show and so Jill and I decided we'd go for the 1700 hrs show. Not everyone wanted to see the movie, but I was determined to see it - there was nothing much to do in the hotel room and I didn't want to roam the crowded streets of Shimla.

Just before leaving we asked Anshu if he wanted to come for the movie. He replied he did and got ready in a jiffy and we moved downstairs. By that time I had taken the second suite booked by me and the hotel receptionist wanted me to sign the ledger pronto. I asked if that could wait cause we were getting late for the movie; He was polite enough to oblige and fetch a taxi for us. We made it just in time to the market that led to Shahi cinema. Not finding the cinema easily, we asked almost everyone on the way for the whereabouts of the cinema. Upon reaching the cinema, we found the booking stall relatively free , but the kind of people that were lining up for the tickets made me wonder if they were really going for "Rock On". It was only then we realised that "Rock On" was on 1400 hrs,1900 hrs and 2100 hrs - the 1700 hrs slot was for a B-grade porn flick "Fashion Show" or something like that!!! Sheeessshhh!!! We all looked at each other's faces and now we realised how all the people we asked about the movie hall must have thought we were some perverts!!!

We hurried away from the place and started looking for a place to sit and have our lunch. Not finding the typical restaurants that jotted the place near our hotel, we sat in a dhaba - Milap Dhaba, and ordered rice, chicken fry and dal. It was already 1730 hrs, and we had another 90 minutes to pass before the next "correct" movie started. We had one slow lunch, moved out to another dhaba for tea and finally it was 1830 hrs. We climbed again to the movie hall and took the most expensive tickets - 75 bucks for the balcony. The cinema was quite decent, probably recently renovated with plush seats and looked more like a multiplex theater. The screen was modern too - the movie was a digital print, the one that you download the movie via satellite up link into Hard Disks and then use a digital projector. Nice movie and we had the entire hall almost to ourselves - there were barely 15 people in total.

After the movie got over at 2130 hours, we picked up a bottle of Old Monk and a coke and set off for the hotel walking. Yep, walking. The taxis were quoting 80 bucks for a measly 1.5 km, so we decided to take a hike, which wasn't bad at all. We could appreciate the lights that seemed to sprout from every square inch of the hills. After a brisk walk, we arrived at the hotel and while I kept the receptionist busy with signing the ledgers and all, Anshu and Jill snuck in the bottle of rum and coke and the mehfil was set at the new suite. I suddenly didn't feel like taking any hard alcohol at all and made do with just one glass of light beer that Kenny, Gyan and Vikram had bought into the hotel. The hotel waiter, the one who had got us the RS bottle last eve, very very considerately exchanged their now-warm beer bottles with chilled ones from the bar!! How very thoughtful of him!

This time however we were wiser not to order too much food as there were plenty of leftovers of the extremely good food from last dinner. Everyone decided that they had enough of Shimla and it would be best if we left the next day for Panipat. Don't know whether it was the place or the ambience, but Jill went on an overdrive with the rum. The alcohol flowed like water down his throat until he was bamboozled to his nuts!!

I retired to the other room, but I could still hear Jill's laugh from one suite across!! And also some heavy wall/door banging that must have woken up entire Shimla!! After a while, I could sense someone climbing onto the bed and sleeping beside me. Judging from the lack of sounds I thought it was Anshu, but a little later a regularly irregular, off-scale, annoying snoring confirmed my fears that it was Gyan. I automatically reached out for my earphones, put on a playlist and tried to drift off to sleep!

Into The Wild and Out of it

2008-09-26T06:42:00.009+05:30

Day 11 : Trip 1474 km

Sangla - Wangtoo - Bhavanagar - Rampur - Shimla

0600 hrs on this day and I could hear Gyan stirring and getting up for his visit to Chitkul. Kenny also came into the room and tried waking Anshu - the late sleeper, but to no avail. I wanted to get up and go with the guys, probably on the pillion. The moment I got up , I just plonked back to the bed, my body weak from the fever. I decided to call it off and take rest instead.

The next time I woke up was at 1000 hrs when I heard Kenny and Gyan's bikes outside. They had returned from their trip to Chitkul and they had lots to tell. Seems they went to the place where the road actually ends, and also to the supposedly "last dhaba in India". I was still groggy from my fever but managed to get up since I had to get my tyre checked. I asked Gyan to set up the foot pump near my bike and that I'd take a look myself after inflating it a bit. After pumping the foot pump a bit ( the pump also needed some minor repairs and a nearby taxi driver offered a valuable nut) I could make out that air was leaking from a previous puncture. Damn! All this while through the torturous roads in Spiti didn't wreak havoc on the puncture, now the good tarmac screwed it up!! The tubeless puncture expert Jill came to the rescue and after a failed attempt, the puncture was repaired and my bike was all set for the road run to Shimla.

Jawed wanted to have breakfast in the same Sonam Tibetan Cafe to have one last glimpse of the lady there, one who went by the name of Pooja!! But from the last evening's episode, I said that breakfast there would take a hell lot of time and that we should move ahead and hope for some dhaba not too far ahead. By 1145 hrs we were all set, paid up the hotel and set off from Hotel Monal Regency. I needed to check on my tyre pressure and came across the solitary tyre repair man 3 km down the road. The tyre was ok, no leaks , and we moved on. Soon we came across the familiar JayPee-has-f***ed-up-the-valley territory and for a good 3 hours it was a ride through dust storms, cement splashes, dumpers galore and thundering generators. Hungry we were but we couldn't find a decent place to sit because of all the dust flying around and so we rode on and on trying to get out of the construction area. Oh! I forgot to add in the previous posts that most of the roads from Kazaa had this phenomenon called shooting stones , where loose rocks would come flying from the mountain tops and posed a hazard on the motorists below. We were on the constant lookout for these stones and there were a couple of times that we had to stop on the road when the high winds brought rocks tumbling down. Jill had a small rock smash against his saddle bags - luckily the rock missed his bike or else he would have vented his ire on the poor mountain!!

The ride seemed endless and the dusty construction roads never seemed to end. Screw JayPee!! Finally the roads cleared up and we came across Bhavanagar where we stopped for lunch. It was 1315 hrs and we were all hungry, plus I couldn't take a paracetamol on an empty stomach. We went into a dhaba by the roadside, actually a little higher up than the road, and ordered the usual combo of rice-dal-sabzi. There was a surprise in store for us there - the walls of the dhaba were splashed with posters of Kurt Cobain, Avril Lavigne and some other female singers I don't know about - a proper Hard Rock Cafe in the wild! The meal here was the cheapest we've had in the entire trip - a very very economical 125 bucks for the five of us (Vikram didn't have anything, he was still having an upset stomach). Finally I could take a tab of paracetamol.

After the lunch and a cigarette break, we decided to hit the road in the hope of making it to Shimla by 2000 hrs. The roads were rip-ready and the bull inside Kenny and Anshu woke up. The heavily laden bullets were doing 70 km + on the straight runs!! Anshu was like on shilajit!! I managed to tread behind Anshu. Somehow through the entire trip it became a norm for someone to tag behind Anshu and I wasn't feeling particularly confident today on the bike because of the fever - so I followed Anshu on his bike. I had even told the guys that I might take a fall at some turn and that they should be ready to pick me up cause I wouldn't have the strength to pick up myself. Fortunately, I didn't fall and my bike was spared the bruises and scratches of a hard fall.

I was beginning to feel a little better after a while and the roads were inviting. I couldn't hold it anymore. I honked at Anshu, revved up my engine, downshifted and gunned ahead of Anshu and ahead of the pack. Did some pretty wild banks and at one point sparks flew off my undercarriage as my stand scraped the tarmac while I banked hard on that turn. Gyan didn't believe me, but the fact was corroborated by Jill who was right behind me. At one point the road was barricaded on the cliff side by tin roof sheets for some shielding from electrical power plants and it looked just like a racing circuit!! I revved on and on and my digi speedo registered 85 kmph at one stretch and again at a bank, my stand scraped the road. It was only when my stand scraped the road twice I finally came to my senses and calmed the Rossi inside me! Doing those kinda speeds at those bends could mean murder - my own!!

We stopped at a small town Jhakri some 10 km before Rampur for some tea It was here that I reminded Gyan he should reiterate his booking at our Shimla Holiday Home since we were reporting a day late, which he complied to. A small snack later we moved on hoping that the roads didn't turn bad further up. It didn't , for a while. Just as it was getting dark, the roads began to ascend, the air got colder - chilly in fact, the roads started getting pockmarked with potholes and the climb started getting harder. Our bikes started losing steam and I couldn't shift upwards of the 3rd gear. Other fellow riders didn't fare any better , but Anshu surprisingly registered 5th cogs in stretches. He definitely was on some shilajit from some clandestine-meeting-cum-shilajit-deal !!! The roads turned for worse , everyone was losing patience since it was so close to Shimla and yet it looked so far now. The roads looked almost nightmarish in the glare of our headlamps. After some impatient riding and some very very dirty stretches that were on every one's nerves, we decided to number ourselves and ride in a tight pack - no overtaking and all. We did ride throughout that way - the last 50 km to Shimla - the roads sometimes good, sometimes just plain dirty, but the air was consistently cold. Finally we entered Chhota Shimla. When I conversed in Assamese with Gyan and Jill, some nearby localites thought we were foreigners on a bike tour and they politely showed us the way to Shimla in a polished, trying-to-be-foreign sounding accent!! I replied in an equally accentuated "Thank you" and led the pack - right onto a snarling traffic jam. Come Shimla and we were greeted with the infamous Shimla traffic jams which saw us take a good hour to cover a measly 6 km to our holiday home Hotel Himland West. The day's booking was on Gyan's name and he checked us in to the comfy suite of the hotel at 2140 hrs. My booking was starting from the next day. The friendly waiter promptly came to our service and got us a bottle of our beloved RS. I was quick to order 2 full tandoori chicken and french fries judging by the fact that we were famished and needed to bite on something meaty soon.

People got fresh soon in the centralised hot water in the bathrooms and we settled down for the regular evening shots. I hadn't been taking in any alcohol in the past two days and today I thought I had mustered enough thirst to take in some gulps. The food came and everyone literally jumped at the chicken, drinks were left untouched. I found it hard to consume even the first peg and I drew a line at that stopping myself to force another peg down my throat. Dinner was ordered since the kitchen would be closing soon. Hot mutton biryani and mutton roghan gosh came up and while people were at their whisky glasses and cable tv, I turned my attention to the food and finished my dinner.I still hadn't recuperated completely from my fever yet and so I didn't linger on much, went to the other room, got under the sheets, popped in a paracetamol and slept off.

Into The Wild and Somewhat Out of it

2008-09-25T17:01:00.012+05:30

Day 10 : Trip 1250 km

Reckong Peo-Kalpa-Sangla

10 AM at Hotel fairyland and most of us were up and ready for the day's ride to Sangla. Tea was ordered for us all and this gave us some time to chat with Josh and his girlfriend. We exchanged info about the routes and the bike circuits. By noon we were all set and bade goodbye and good luck to the American pair. We hadn't had lunch and decided we'd have it in Kalpa itself. We had a lot of good things about Kalpa from Josh and didn't want to miss the place. After all, it was just a 12 km ride. We rode on and after some kilometers , we found hordes of hotels at spectacular locations. We hadn't climbed this far the night we were looking for hotels at Reckong Peo, and Jill and I felt dejected that we had missed out on some great places to stay. The moment we entered Kalpa limits, the roads were coloured with green pines and the air carried the fresh pine aroma all around. A little higher and it was all apple and apricots!! That place is sheer heaven, and I am not exaggerating at all. The Kinner Kailash range is visible in all its glory and it being a clear sky, we could make out the "shiv ling" at the peak - a white thumb like structure, solitary and awe inspiring.

Kalpa is absolute honeymoon country. I would suggest all newly weds to visit this place and stay at the Hotel Kinner of the Himachal Pradesh Tourist Development Corp. That hotel is a wonderful place and the rates are amazing - Rs 1100 for a cottage!!! The moment we entered the hotel, it offered us some amazing views of the Kinner Kailash, and the hotel staff were only eager to show us around. The hotel had a wide patio where one could sit for hours and hours and just rake it in. We had some splendid snaps taken, our "NatGeo" photographer Anshu making the most of it all. We ordered some simple food over there and after a while the waiter announced that lunch was served and boy,what a restaurant!!! It was on the first floor, wooden , warm and glass windows all around you that offered fantastic views of the valley and the mountains. And what a lunch!!! Absolutely ravishing!! We all hogged and hogged!! The bill came to 900 bucks, but didn't mind one bit. First , the restaurant was an absolute stunner and second, the food was awesome!! This place is definitely A one stuff. On a more serious note, off the track, there's just so much to see in India, I really wonder why people spend mega bucks on a honeymoon abroad. I don't say its not worth it, but try exploring your own country first - it wont disappoint you one bit.

A solid lunch later, we got onto our bikes again and started off with our ride towards Sangla. The ride took us through the valleys of Kinner Kailash , always attracting the attention of the local people there. The ride was not much to write home about, except for the fact that there were some huge Hydel projects of JayPee group going on at full swing, and to our utter dismay, they had just screwed the roads there. Gone were the lulling roads, gone were the greens. All we came across were mud, slush, cement slush, dust, grime, oil slicks, stones and clouds of heavy particulate matter. It was just too sad to observe all this. We all thought that in a few years' time JayPee was gonna turn all the greens into a dull shade of grey. "How green was my valley" is all we can mutter in a couple of years' time.

We reached quite early, on the other side of the Kinner Kailash. It was awesome; Just a few hours back we were looking at the range and the shivling from Kalpa, and now we were like behind the same mountains. It was probably the first time in the entire trip that we checked into a hotel before the sunset. There was still time for dusk and we decided to dump our stuff in the hotel rooms and go do some local sightseeing. We stayed at one Monal Regency hotel, which was quite comfy and our room even had a waterfall as wallpaper!! After gathering some info from the hotel staff, we hopped onto our bikes, Jill did a pillion with Kenny, and moved towards the village. I was feeling particularly confident in just a wind sheeter and a pair of floaters. Fool I was, cause in the evening I came down with a fever!! But anyway, we moved through the village, towards the Sangla waterfall we had heard of, only to find a dried up stream there. Perhaps it wasn't the season then. But we did find an open space sort of thing at a cliff and went over there to have a view of the valley below. Shots were clicked and people just hung around . It was a good time there at the point overlooking the valley.

When it was turning dark, we decided we'd get back to the village for some snacks. It was at that point that I discovered that I was running flat tyre in the rear! Thank God it was a tubeless trye or else I wouldn't have made it back to the village. We tried checking the tyre for some nails or something like that but we found none. Puzzled I was as to how the tyre was losing air. If it was the bleed valve then I was a goner, there could not have been any shop there that would be dealing with tubeless tyres. But anyway I limped backed to the village and we sat inside one Sonam Tibetan Cafe for some momos. The lady had told us that the chicken momos would take some time , so we settled for the mutton momos and just sat on the balcony sort of things and watched the market below. Jill was particularly interested in one girl that came into the cafe once and roamed around in the small market place with her friend and indeed she was playing a cat and mouse game with Jill. We all egged Jill to go and make a move, but it was good he didn't!

The momos were taking ages, and we were thinking if this was called "in less time" what would have chicken momos taken! Finally, the momo soup arrived and we all slurped in the soup from our bowls. Then came the momos, finally, steaming hot and relishing. We hungrily ate into the momos, which were quite filling. It was almost 19 hrs, and I was done with dinner- the momos were filling enough! After that we returned to our hotel and I ran up a temperature, probably due to cold I had caught with my "daring" attire for the evening. I told the guys I'd check up on the tyre in the morning and that I was gonna take a paracetamol and try to sleep.

Before I slept, the guys made a plan in Anshu's room. Chitkul was some 20 km away and it was the last place on the road there and Kenny, Gyan an Anshu wanted to see it. So it was decided that whoever wanted to visit Chitkul would get up at 0600 hrs and make a trip there and return by 1100 hrs to the hotel and then move on with the rest of the guys forward. Gyan and Kenny wanted my opinion, but I felt too weak to get up and said I was ok with the plan and I dozed off, leaving the guys to spend the evening together in Anshu's room.

Into The Wild

2008-09-24T11:17:00.019+05:30

Day 9: Trip 1192 km

Nako-Pooh-Reckong Peo ; 14.09.08

Late evenings had always translated to late starts throughout our trip. And today wasnt going to be any exception. Not that anyone was complaining!! But we did lose daytime on our journeys and entered most villages by dusk. The last evening was another evening of laughter, rum shots, stories, episodes, walk in the moonlit night and a somewhat disturbed sleep!! People got up relatively early, wanting to catch some views of Lake Nako, which was just 200 meters from our hotel. Lack of hot water in the hotel made us reluctant to have a shower and most settled for a good face wash followed by some bed tea. I sat down by the balcony overlooking some fields and which also gave me one great bird's eyeview of the Nako village. Kenny, Vikram wanted to visit the lake again, and I ,after getting a quick shower, got all dressed up for the day. While others were getting ready we made another trip to the lake. It was only then that we saw the inscriptions on the thousands of stone slabs that formed a kind of wall around the lake. It was just so beautiful - just so mesmerising -just like the prayers inscribed on them. I dont know what kind of patience the monks must have had while inscribing the prayers onto the rocks and thus making them kinda immortal beauties. It was like someone had transformed all those rocks to some divine art. When asked, one elderly fellow told us that these were works of some old buddhist monks who had come to the place few hundred years back. All of them were hand crafted yet calligraphically perfect, no prayer line out of alignment - one seamless, endless poem.

Kenny and I were so tempted to carry one piece each and searched for small slabs. We did find some, but somehow we thought otherwise and kept them at their rightful places. Our conscience just didnt allow us to take away one prayer from the rest and somehow it just didnt feel right to take away any of that priceless beauty. Infact, after we put the slabs back we felt at peace with ourselves. Anyway, it might have mattered differently to someone else, but for us it felt the right thing to do.

We proceeded to the lake shore, and after a long long time I could see normal aquatic life -meaning fish- in the lake. Kenny was in the mood for some "Jitender" shots, so he went about climbing about trees and all for some quite splendid shots. Not to be outdone, I also sprinted up the same tree and had some leisurely "Akshay Kumar" shots taken. Quite felt like a kid there, so much so that I picked up some flat pebbles and threw them across the lake - the way you do to create jumping stones up the surface of the water. I must say, I did quite well , Kenny being the witness!

Some kiddish snaps later, we returned to the hotel to find people gearing up their bikes. I decided to empty my jerry cans and check for the mileage now. Gyan and Kenny had taken my ass too long till now , poking every now and then about my pathetic fuel consumption figures. To prove it was the terrain and a mere fluke, I measured the petrol bottle by bottle in a 600 ml pepsi pet, and put in just around so much to bring up my mileage figures to 36.5 km/litre. I beamed, urging Gyan to check his. He was confident that it wouldnt be much different from his previous figures, but when his tank guzzled up more than 5 litres and still to go, I had the last laugh!! Now, HIS bike's figures came down below 30 km/litre!!

People were ready at last, and Anshu had also taken some shots of the lake, we paid up the hotel guy (he was quite enthusiastic about bikes, and asked a lot of questions on our bikes, bike gear and performance bikes). Some foreigners arrived at the place there and gave us approving glances, quite elevating our pride! We skipped breakfast there since it was way too late for breakfast and tad early for lunch. We decided we'd brunch somewhere on the way. We kick started/self started for our ride towards Reckong Peo at noon .

Just before Pooh we encountered a fork towards Ship Ki La, the pass that allows you to visit the Chinese border, a pass into Tibet. By this time Anshu and Vikram had moved a bit ahead of us and no matter how much we honked , they were past earshot and that left us with the four of us trying to figure out what to do. There was no milestone saying how far was Ship Ki La and we had to find that out before we could take any step. We found one himachali belle waiting for a bus/jeep just at the fork and decided to ask her on the distances. I took the honours, again beating Jill to it!! She informed me it was some 8-9 Km up, but the fool I was , I forgot to ask her about permits and all. I went back again to her (she must have thought I was trying to make a pass at her!!) and asked her about permits and all, to which she replied that she couldnt tell much about it and the best place to find out about it would be the army camp at Ship Ki La itself. Thanking her, I made my way back and passed on the info to the rest. Not wanting to forgo this chance to seeing the Chinese border from such a location, we decided to give it a go. It was a question now of who'd get Anshu and Vikram back to the fork, since it was quite some time since they haved moved ahead and there were no signs of them stopping a bit ahead. Making another poke at my improved mileage figures , the guys asked me to go ahead and get the 2 runaways. Anyway, I decided to go and fetch Anshu and Vikram, asking Kenny, Gyan and Jill not to move from that place till I got back.

I rode quite some distance, all the way up to the next inhabitated place to find Anshu taking some shots and Vikram looking for a pay phone. I asked them to keep an eye on the rear view mirror from then on and took them back to the fork. On the way, I found Jill coming towards us -minus Kenny and Gyan. Jill informed us that Ship Ki La wasnt just 8-9 km from the fork; It was some 15 km and that after getting to the army camp , we'd have to park our bikes and take a hike for God-knows-how-long to actually get to the border. Apparently Gyan and Kenny had moved on upwards, leaving the rest of us to wonder whether to follow them or was it actually worthwhile to go to Ship Ki La. I was seething - not only I had burnt precious petrol getting the guys back, now Gyan and Kenny had left us without informing. Another guy in a jeep on the way back from the heights told us that it Ship Ki La was 20km away and that roads werent meant for jeeps either - they were only the 4x4 Stallion trucks of the Indian Army. After a debate, we decided we'd try to catch Kenny and Gyan going by the mantra that we shouldnt do anything alone in these kind of terrain. But after a while Vikram found the steep climb and turns unmanageable, plus we were all burning a lot of fuel. We decided to skip it and make it to Pooh and wait for the now too-enthusiastic riders.

On the way to Pooh, we looked for a place to refill our stomachs. Came across a settlement full of Dutch people from Dehradun on their Enfields and it was at this same place that Anshu almost picked a fight with a localite regarding a bike parking issue!! I got shit scared when Vikram also got down from his bike in support of Anshu. Now, Vikram is a big guy, and when he is angry he looks intimidating! But in reality he's just a big huggable bear!!! Anyway, to cool things off I urged everyone to hop on their bikes and gun off to the next town. Anshu also had the same idea , saying that with these foreigners around we'd get no service over there. And so we moved on , waving a big " bye bye" to the supportive Dutch.

Some 5 km later, we found a cliffside dhaba, parked our bikes behind a truck and climbed up the steps to the dhaba for some hot momos and noodles and started our patient wait for Kenny and Gyan over some mountain dew and noodles. Vikram, who was having an upset stomach for a couple of days, settled for some eggs and kept watch on our bikes and on the road for the roadrunners. Sometime later Vikram announced that Kenny and Gyan were approaching and he went out on the road to stop them. Come Kenny and Gyan, a lot of "gyan giving" went into them and a fiasco ensued that I better leave out of these pages. But in the end they admitted they acted rashly, and peace prevailed - but not before making complete asses of ourselves before the local folks there!! How naive we are. Anshu suggested that we make a team leader, one who's gonna think for all, but who'll make an authorative decision everyone has to abide by. I suggested we make Anshu the leader, since I deemed him the most rational guy among us. Kenny suggested my name - but I'm chicken!!! Anyway, we'd all ask Anshu for his opinion - although he'd be happy with every decision! Awesome flexible guy he is!!

After Kenny and Gyan finished their lunch , we started for Reckong Peo. I was happy to leave the place. First the ride fiasco , then the almost-fight of Anshu with the localites - the day was going just great - great downhill. We rode relentlessly, making a short stop at a roadside temple for some prayers. I rarely go to temples, but somehow I stopped there. I went up the steps, prayed that there were no more hassles in the ride , prayed for a someone's happiness and decided we'd better get going before we lose day light again. Vikram seemed to appreciate the fact that we stopped for a prayer. Amen!

A narrow, steep and tricky climb up the hills towards Recking Peo, we could make out the city lights in the distance. Jill remarked that it might be a hill station akin to Manali. It sure looked like one from the distance. Not too long after, we entered the city streets and a most welcome sight greeted my eyes. Not the people, not the lit-up hotels, not the busy streets, not the civilization - but an SBI ATM!! We all were running out of cash and the pool had gone dry! Just in time to replenish our dwindling supply of moolah!! Pockets refuelled, Jill, Anshu and I went in search of a decent hotel with parking space. Funny it is, but the more civilised the places were, the more concerned we grew about the safe-keeping of our bikes. Out in the wild at Chhatru,Chandertaal, Kazaa and Nako , we'd just park our bikes and forget about it. Shows in a way how civilization corrupts people. This was also the first place in 5 days where we got cell connections. Our days in the wild were gone, we were now connected to the world. Immediately after switching on my cell, I received queued-up messages asking if I was al right. I was somewhat confused, until I came to know that there had been serial blasts in Delhi the previous day. I assured everyone I was ok and told them not to worry. Felt good to be receiving messages from far.

Up-hill and down-hill, side-hills and alleys later hunting for a hotel, we zeroed in on one Hotel Fairyland for 250 bucks a room. No hotel in that place offered us parking space and we had to be content with parking our bikes on the street in front of the hotel. We also found one guy from Pennsylvania, Josh who was also staying in the hotel and who had come from Shimla, intending to cover Spiti and Leh. He also had his girlfriend with him on his Enfield. We were all jealous suddenly wishing WE had girlfriends like Josh. Probably the only one unfazed by Josh was Anshu for all the reasons we were jealous of Josh.

The kitchen didnt offer us any dinner, so we went downhill on 3 bikes looking for a restaurant. Everyone seemed to be attracted to one Ridang Hotel and Restaurant. It looked clean and inviting, and once inside we enquired if the hotel had a bar. Indeed they offered one and most of it all, it was all empty!!! We all moved into the bar and looked for some change from the steady intake of rum. Anshu and I settled for some beer, while the others decided to binge on a bottle of Royal Stag. But alas, Royal Stag was out of stock and the guys had to re-order one bottle of McD No 1. The bartender was one timid fellow that reminded Kenny very much of Bassi, our college friend. What followed was a real blast at the Ridang Bar. The guys got senti and all - Kenny and Gyan making a public apology for being selfish earlier that day, and Gyan offering Jill his personal aplogies. I felt so warm inside, felt like my prayers in the roadside temple had been answered!!

The mood was so lively there, even as we seemingly harassed the poor bartender. Ofcourse, all we did was order food and booze, and we kept thanking the guy, but he looked so timid compared to us that the feeling of owning him down came to me! Now our "bhai" Vikram felt like another bottle of whisky, one on him!! He ordered another bottle and the festivites never seemed to stop!! There followed friendly fights and Vikram dropped onto the floor for which he blamed the crazy angle of the floor!! Finally , we finished our dinner, paid up and bade goodbye to the bartender, but not before Jill dropped a bombshell on the bartender. Just one line actually - "We'll be back tomorrow"!! I swear I could have seen the guy go nervous!! But I relaxed him asking him not to worry, we'll be gone the morning after!!

People seemed to be in an extra mood for partying that evening. The moment we entered the hotel, Kenny boomed aloud "Where's the bottle?" - so loud probably every single soul in the hotel must have heard it! Anshu came to our room and promptly took a seat inside the cupboard!! He was game for some more whisky too, but I and Gyan declined and decided to hit the sack. The party continued in Anshu's room till a long long time as we came to know in the morning. Like always, I fell asleep not too long after getting under the sheets, feeling warm and good inside.

Into The Wild

2008-09-23T23:11:00.016+05:30

Day 8 : Trip 1065 km

Kazaa - Tabo - Nako ; 13.09.08

The next day saw us leaving the hotel at exactly noon. Breakfast was royal and we bade warm goodbyes to the hotel guys. The receptionist who had been looking after our great stay at Hotel Spiti at Kazaa wished us good luck on our journey ahead. People still had to fill up their petrol tanks, get tyre pressure checked, Kenny had to get his carrier fixed at a welder and some good time went into looking for Vikram who had disappeared looking for a PCO. Finally, we moved on , caught the main road towards Nako and started making good pace. The roads offered little resistance albeit some breathtaking views to slow us down. Anshu was still in search of his "Shilajit" and we soon came to Lingti Village, a place where the hotel receptionist at Kazaa said we'd be able to get our hands on some shilajit. Poor Anshu kept honking at the rendezvous, but people ripped ahead of him. Dejected, he too moved on, casting some final glimpses to the slated place. On the way we took a turn to the Dhankar Monastery, which was on the cards. It was some 8 km from the main road, but quite at a height. We came across some serious hairpins that would give the Gata loops a run for its money. Some stops later for some photography sessions and still some more hairpin bends later, we finally entered the Dhankar Monastery territory. The old monastery was still some distance away, while there was a new one under construction. Some of us decided the old monastery was worth a visit and set off on our bikes. But only my bike and Gyan's karizma could make it to the point where the road ended and the steps to the old monastery started. The inclines were murderous, and the rocks made the climb terrifying for the heavily laden bullets, the roads being extremely narrow and the drop down the ravine sheer piss-in-the-pant stuff!!Wisdom prevailed in the scared place and Vikram gave up after a few meters, so did Kenny. Gyan and I also returned , amid some very very very cautious climb down the road. Never was I so scared at any stretch throughout the trip.

Jill and Kenny mingled well with the young monks in the monastery and had some nice shots taken with their bikes. Bidding goodbye to the monks, we proceeded to catch the main road towards Tabo , our slated stop for lunch. The ride was uneventful thereon and we made it to Tabo by 1530 hrs. My trip meter had clocked an exact 1000 km the time I entered Tabo. Tabo is a cool place to hang out in, essentially a densely populated place with around 800 people. there were also some foreigners who seem to have settled down there. There are also spaces properly marked as "bus stop", "hospital" et all.

Lunch at one Tenzin restaurant near the Tabo Monastery consisted of some momos , chowmein and thukpa. Initially we had all packed our lunch and gulped down at the place where we had parked our bikes. But Anshu protested saying where there is a place to sit , people SHOULD sit and eat. Now Anshu is not a guy who complains, but when he does everyone takes him seriously!! So we hastily broke into 2 groups; while one watched over the bikes, the other went to the restaurant and had their lunch. Vikram, poor fellow, skipped his lunch there since he could not abandon a long line at the pay phone, and the fellows decided to get his lunch packed. I didn't go inside the Monastery but people did and they conveyed to me that it was a lovely monastery, made mostly of clay and that it took five minutes inside to get their eyes accustomed to the dim lighting. The garden area of the monastery also had some wonderful apple trees that brimmed full with ripe apples, that looked just so inviting and juicy.

A few minutes of rest later, we all moved on. All these days, our motive had been to wake up early and reach the next place early before sunset. But somehow, that never materialised and today was no exception. We decided to reach Nako as fast as we could make it, possibly just making it before dark. Some time and some kilometers into the ride from Tabo, we suddenly entered some apple orchards at a place called Hurling, and there were apples all around us!!! Green apples, red apples, small apples, big apples, tender apples, juicy apples all around us and not a soul to be seen. It was too good to be true!!!! Gyan was turning to be the moral guy and looked around for someone to take permission from for a few apples. He did find someone, and started shouting at him if he could pluck some apples off the trees. Little did he realise, he was trying to communicate with a scarecrow!! We all had ourselves in splits when we realised he was talking to a dummy!!! Kenny and Jill took the initiative of jumping the fence and looting some apples. Jill was particularly after some fantastic looking green apples. We all stuffed some apples each and started our bikes lest someone caught us in the act!! But we were content nonetheless at having the absolute pleasure of munching on some virgin HP apples!! Truly Himachal is apple country, and a great country at that!!

Moving on towards Nako, we tried to make fast pace. The road was surprisingly good, looked brand new, albeit a steep climb that never seemed to end. There was no traffic at all save a solitary state transport bus bearing the Rampur depot tag. Some time later and a lot of altitude climbing later, all of us grew wary since we didnt come across a single milestone nor a single board that showed where the road was taking us. Finally some hutment came into view and luckily it was filled with the road construction people. Verifying that the road was indeed taking us to Nako, we pressed on.....only to come across one of the worst stretches of road - one water crossing that had eroded the entire road, and unfortunately, the crossing happened to be in one damn steep incline. Then came the backbreaking climb down the jagged road. It was already dark and we had turned our lights on, the need for a safe climb much more accentuated now. After negotiating the treacherous terrain, we hit smooth roads again and gunned our engines towards the lights ahead. We almost missed the village entry and came back after we realised we were moving farther away downhill from the lights. Darn those people who always say "Both the roads lead to the village"!!

Finally we entered the village and enquired for one Amar Guest House that had come recommended from the restaurant at Tabo.It was nice and cosy,rustic and very very village hut types, but we had to take a flight of steps down and we were in no mood to be carrying our equipment all the way. Plus the landlady seemed to be a lot stiff in her lodging charges. We looked around for some more places to put up for the night and finally checked into one nearby Reo Purguil Hotel that offered much more comfy rooms AND parking space for our bikes at almost the same rates.

After checking into the rooms, we all got fresh and Anshu and Vikram went to the previous Amar Guest House to make some phone calls since it was the only place in the locality that offered a payphone. But seemed Anshu and Vikram had a lot to hear from the land lady when she came to know we ditched her hotel and stayed elsewhere!!! Poor fellas, they had to beg to make a phone call and even after that they got looted . Vikram paid 25 bucks for a 3 minute call!!

Evening time was again slotted for some rounds of old monk, and for a change we tried having apples with the rum!!! It wasn't bad, quite different, but nice!! Found the food at the hotel way too expensive and we ordered our food at a dhaba bang in front of the hotel! Told the dhaba guy we'd take an hour and to make our food slow and easy. He asked us not to worry- food would be available till 10 pm. But the shots continued till late, so much so that the dhaba guy had to come to our room to remind us that it was 10 pm!! Dinner was rice-dal-chicken curry and rotis for Kenny and Vikram.

After a heavy dinner, Kenny felt an urge to take a midnight stroll to the Nako lake and he pulled me along. I, in turn , roped in Anshu and Vikram too. Banged on a particulary big pebble in the dark and hurt my toe in the process. It was a good sight, the lake by the moonlight. It was a very very small lake, compared to Chandertaal and a pygmy lake compared to Pangong Tso. but looked beautiful enough in the moonlight. The moonlight also made me drift off to some memories of yore, while I fought off the cold. It was chilly, but the moon and memories brought some kind of warmth inside.Talk about cold comfort.

We retired later into our rooms- Gyan, Vikram and me piling into one room; while Anshu , Jill and Kenny settled into the other room for some "joint" sessions. Jill said that their room was meant for people who stayed up late and who woke up late. Bloody Kenny ditched me and sent Vikram to my room. I just glared at him and asked him for his earphones; I was too tired to look for my pair.Without a single protest, Kenny handed me his earphones and I bid goodnight to the guys and headed for my room, where Gyan had already started his glorious snoring!

For reasons very well known to the guys, I took some 3-4 play lists and the volume put on high to garner some sleep!!!

Into The Wild

2008-09-23T22:02:00.012+05:30

Day 7 : Trip 932 km

Kazaa - Komik - Rangrik - Kazaa

The seventh day of our trip went in exploring the markets of Kazaa, looking for trinkets to buy , and also in search of the local mechanic. Getting our bikes' transmission chains oiled and tightened took us better half of the day, and we had to still go to Kibber, Kye and Komik. When it was past noon, we all decided we'd go to the most recommended of the three since it was nigh impossible to do all the three places in one day. Komik came as the choice of our hotel receptionist and we were also enthused when we found out that it was the highest village - Kibber lost out by 5 metres!

Bikes ready and stomachs full , we set forth towards Komik well after noon. The initial stretch was good for short rips, but after a while we entered landslides area, where there were some work or the other going on. Not much of a hassle, but we did have to wait at some places where the bulldozer would be clearing rubbles of landmass. Some distance later, we came across a fork and we asked a worker there enquiring about the road to Komik. His reply was both the roads lead to Komik. Taking the road supposedly better than the other, we proceeded on some broken roads, but ones that offered us some fantastic views.

The ride was idyllic and we came across some characters quite aptly handled by Anshu. One being fossil peddler. Yes, fossil. Apparently Komik was under the sea some thousands of years back and now is a treasure trove for fossils; And we did get our hands on quite some of them. Simply beautiful. Don't know how old they are, but being fossils they are, I don't reckon they'll be anything less than a thousand years old. The fossils are beautiful by the way! We came across quite some forks on the road and we made some wrong turns, much to the dismay of Jill. But one thing we found out over there was that all roads lead to all villages!! Simply speaking, all of the villages were interconnected with the same kind of roads - dusty and broken and lonely.

After quite some riding, we finally reached Komik, one of the loneliest villages in the trip with a population of 114 people . Society would be so hassle free here!! We spent some time there, visiting the local monastery - claimed to be 800 years old by the caretaker there. The inside were nice though. Its always a different world when you step inside a monastery/gompa. The silence forces one to revere the sanctity of the place. Some innovative photo shoots later, we decided to head back to Kazaa before the cold caught up with us. I wore only a pair of woollen gloves and at that height the glaring sun brought no respite from the absolute chill of the high altitude winds. With just a pair of woollen gloves to shelter my hands, the cold wind bit into the palm and hands and I felt like some hundred small, pointed icicles were poking into my palm. It was numb enough for me!

We started off from Komik at around 1600 hrs and took the road that lead us quickly down ( suggested by the caretaker) . The road turned out to be only a little better than the Chota Dara stretch and we crawled at snail's pace, careful not to brake too hard or twist the bar too hard. One mistake , and its a lovely ride/fall/dump down 4000 meters. Finally after some really involved riding , we came across tarmac. But with tarmac came the landslides too. We had to wait behind a bulldozer again , but we were granted a passage from the sides after one of the tractors backed up a bit. The downhill ride was uneventful till Kazaa. Some of us went in search of payphones, some went for snacks, and Gyan, Kenny and I went in search of Chang - the local beer. found out it wasn't available at Kazaa, but was to be found at Rangrik some 8 km before Kazaa.

The hotel receptionist offered to take us to one of his relatives there after phoning them beforehand of our requirement of Chang. Off we went with the receptionist guy and after some 15 minutes, we waited at the roadside while he went off into the village in search of Chang. The more we waited the more exotic Chang became for us. We were growing impatient when the receptionist failed to turn up after 20 minutes and we blared our horns into the still evening. Finally, he came huffing and puffing out of some street with 2 and a half litres of our precious Chang!!!

We rushed back to the hotel and showed everyone our trophies, amid cheers and applause. Orders were placed for finger fries and some mutton, which we had ordered beforehand and the place set up for some local wine tasting!! Jill was down the whole day for some reason and he declined all our offers. Fine by us we said and we settled onto the party!!

There were some other guests that had checked in to the hotel that day, some adventurers from Ahmadabad in their Tavera and Scorpio. They met us, called us "Macho Men", congratulated us on making it so far on bikes - all of which inflated our chests no end!! I also went on to the extent of talking about "Dil mein junoon" and stuff!!! These people were looking for camping at Chandertaal too, and we warned about the sub-zero temperatures that awaited them at Chandertaal.

Incidentally, Kenny, Gyan and I had topped up our tanks before ripping off to Rangrik. While Gyan clocked an average of 32 km/litre, my average took a plunge to 28.5 km/litre!!! I was the butt of the jokes from Gyan and Kenny for the whole evening, and also for a couple of days to come till my bike started sipping fuel predictably after Nako.

The evening was just as warm as the previous eve, the local wine flowing like sweet water. Laughter in the room and a warm mellow feeling settling into all of us. Dinner followed after the session that lasted for quite some time. The mutton was out of this world, and so was the mushroom dish. Everything tastes exquisite in this hotel, something made better by the friendly and informative hotel staff. We walked into our respective rooms, with plans of starting off early for Nako the next morning.

Into The Wild

2008-09-23T16:47:00.012+05:30

Day 6 : Trip 867 km

Chandertaal - Lossar-Kazaa ; 11.09.08

Morning light came as welcome change to the freezing environs of Chandertaal. Everyone woke up lazy and piled out of the tents to soak in the warmth of the morning sun. It was actually warmer outside the tents than it was inside. Jill was still down and out with AMS, while the rest of groggily tried to dismantle the tents and pack up for the rest of the journey.We all tried to wash our faces from the water of the rivulet - it looked sparkling clean anyway. At first it was just too cold to the touch, however after the sun was up for an hour, the temperature of the water slowly climbed to what must have been around 1 degree Celsius. After getting done with that we all looked at the cliff side in dismay, wondering how we'd ever scale it to reach our bikes. It was fairly easy to throw our stuff down, but now we'd have to carry it all the way up and the way we were stricken with AMS, it had to be one long, torturous job!! When asked if anyone else had felt extremely cold the previous night , they all replied in the affirmative and I was glad I wasn't the abnormal one! Then to prove his point, Gyan brought me the water bottle we had kept outside our tents throughout the night - the water had frozen into ice! It was a solid block of ice inside the water bottle. We figured it might have been around -2 degrees Celsius in the night. Not bad at all!!

It took us 2 hours and well into early mid-day, but we were all done packing and mounting our bags onto our bikes. We munched on some chocolates for energy, that was our breakfast for the day, and some glucose that Vikram so handily offered us all. Before the effects of the glucose wore out, we decided to hit the trail and blast off from Chandertaal. But that was all easier said than done.

It took quite some struggling on the Enfields' part to make it out of the cliff side. Not surprising since they were the most heavily loaded and the steep climb also took toll on the pulsars and the karizma. Then came the tricky inclines on the narrow ledge of a road. Anshu had some 2-3 falls en-route and it took 3 of us to get his bike up. But like Anshu likes to put it, he never falls, only the bike falls!!! One was a particularly hilarious fall. At at downhill hairpin, Anshu took a fall - ahem! I meant Anshu's bike took a fall. It took Anshu, me and Kenny to get it up. It was at an awkward angle , he had fallen in the middle of the hairpin; So the bike's front was still facing the cliff end of the road. Anshu started fiddling with the gear shift of his bike once it was up. Kenny and I both shouted to Anshu not to put the bike on neutral. Snap came Anshu's reply " I put in in neutral". WHAM!! Anshu's bike fell like a log split second later!!! Another heave-ho from the three of us and the bike was up, Anshu wiser for the same!

After getting on to the main stretch of road leading to Kazaa, we trundled along what could barely be called a road. Sandy patches, grit and pebbles, rocks strewn all over. And on the way we came across Kumzum Pass, the highest pass on this route. We paid homage to a temple there, and moved along. The photographer in Anshu was acting us and some splendid shots were captured by him in this stretch. "Shilajit", the wonder drug, was always on his viewfinder's wish list after some pretty persuasive marketing by one peddler at the mall road, Manali. "Gol Gappa" cheeks was what the peddler had promised Anshu had he tried Shilajit for a week or so. It was Anshu and his quest for shilajit, and the butt of all leg pulling from then on for Anshu throughout the trip!!

Some breathtaking landscapes and some wild roads later, just before Lossar, our tyres abruptly treaded on asphalted roads - just like that, out of the blue. And a big welcome gate saying "Most Welcome to Spiti Valley". Finding metalled roads after what we've been through was like feeding our bikes 110 octane methanol. After a long long time we were actually able to shift to our fourth and fifth cogs and raced towards Lossar, our planned pit-stop for the day. It was only when we reached Lossar that we found out that the next 57 km to Kazaa were "makkhan" smooth and we'd make it to Kazaa in 2 hrs max. So we decided to have a hasty lunch there and move towards Kazaa before sundown.

Lunch was paranthas, rice-dal-eggs - a king's meal for us then. We hogged proper at what we called the 5-star restaurant of Lossar. We had tables, chairs, metal plates and glasses , a seat overlooking the road - what else do you need to feel like a million bucks ,especially out there in the wild? We met another true blue biker over there - Suresh Rana, who introduced himself to us and informed us of the roads ahead. Thanks to his precise info, we did have a great ride till Kazaa and entered the sleepy town just at dusk, when the lights were just coming on. Some scouting, some negotiations, some bargaining later, we booked 3 rooms at the HPTDC's Hotel Spiti for quite a deal. One room free, breakfast and dinner on the house! In all we managed to save some 3k in the bargain, plus the food was absolutely awesome, absolutely lip smacking good!! Jill was the happiest of the lot - for the fact that he was getting into a resort and not some camping tent!!

After washing off all the grime from our faces and getting fresh, we all sat down in our room and opened up yet another Old Monk for the evening. French fries and Old Monk never tasted so good!! The festivities went on till late night when the hotel receptionist, nice guy he was, reminded us that our dinner was ready down in the dining hall. Warm from the rum , and the comfort of the carpeted rooms, we all marched downstairs to the dining hall. The assortment of dishes there overwhelmed us hungry and tired riders, but we dug into the food like a pack of hungry wolves. But our appetite wasn't enough to finish off the food offered by the very very hospitable hotel staff and in spite of our best efforts, we left some very good egg curry and one dish of aloo dum curry half finished. Maybe it was the rum, maybe it was the tiring ride, maybe it was the fries we had , but we did leave a sizable portion of the meal untouched. Post meal, we all moved into our respective rooms and jumped onto the cozy beds, sleep catching up with us in little time.

Into The Wild

2008-09-22T22:42:00.007+05:30

Day 5 : Trip 769 km

Chhatru - Batal - Chandertaal ; 10.09.08

The guys, prominently Gyan and Kenny, woke up early at about 0800 hrs, and went about looking for "dump" sites. Vikram joined in the fray too!! While we went about loading our stuffs and soaking in some early morning sun. The tents were soon dismantled and packed onto the bikes. People wanted to laze around for some time, and so we did. No one was complaining after all! At around 1100 hrs , we set off on our journey towards Chandertaal, determined that we would make it there at least today, and we couldn't afford another day's delay in just getting to Chandertaal. Just 2 km into the ride, we arrived at Chhatru, and stopped at a Dhaba that was serving lunch at that time. We joined in, and had some absolutely smashing rice-dal-sabji combo meal. Kenny and Vikram opted for panranthas though. Music in the background was nice too!!!

We decided to hit the road soon. We drew attention wherever we went and that was a good feeling...till we came across the roads - or no roads at all- at Chota Dara. It was rocks and pebbles all the way, and we had such a tough fight to keep our bike's balance. Anshu had a couple of falls here....and after a hard hard ride, we made it to Bataal. There were a bunch of foreigners trundling along the same route in a Sumo ahead of us, and there were quite a number of shots taken of us!!! The same foreigners had been waiting at Bataal for some refreshments, and I made a grand entry there ,being the first to reach. One guy clicked some snaps while I came over. Wonder if they might come in some mags!! Fantasies, fantasies!!

There was a wonderful sheep dog at the tea stall and I had a gala time playing with it. Even bought him a pack of biscuits, which he hungrily lapped up from my hands. Dogs are such wonderful beings!! Anshu played the proper paparazzi here, holding the camera still for a long long time and clicking away at the "gori firang", a snap much prized by Jill!! Post tea at Bataal, we proceeded towards Chandertaal after arming ourselves with info on the approach road to the lake from some Sumo drivers. The road thereon proved to be another challenge altogether- high altitudes, narrow tracks, steep ravines, rock/pebble infested, water courses/ falls through the roads and no signboards. Some 15 km into the track and still no sign of the lake,we sent Gyan and Jill ahead of us as scouts, while I scaled half a hill top to scout for our scouts. Sometime later I could see them returning, and both gave us different versions of their scouting. Jill was absolutely pessimistic about going ahead towards the lake, while Gyan was raring to go citing Chandertaal as one of the major vantage points of the whole trip. A consensus was arrived at. We moved on towards the lake. We could spot a glacier and a small lake below it. Not finding an approach road to the lake, we moved a bit more ahead in search of a link road. Further ahead, just opposite to where we were looking, I found another lake - Chandertaal- in exactly the opposite direction where we were searching for it!!!!

We went about looking for an approach and was wondering how to get to the shore, when Gyan went ahead looking for a trail. I went in the opposite direction following some jeep tracks. I found a Pajero already parked at a cliff side, and a trail leading down below, but not negotiable with bikes. It had to be done walking down. We knew carrying our stuff down wouldn't be the issue here, but carrying it up the next morning would definitely be. But hell, we needed to camp by lake Chandertaal, so we started flinging our sleeping mats and bags down the cliff!!! Then we parked our bikes and left with the Jerry cans down below. Jawed was shit scared someone would harm his bike and told us that he would be heading back to Bataal!! He was already under an attack of AMS and it took some hard consoling that nothing would happen to his bike and that every one's bike and the Pajero was parked there - no one would single out his bike.

Reluctantly, he agreed, and proceeded downhill. Gyan and Kenny and Anshu were making a furious pace setting the tents before nightfall, yet again. The night won and we had to set up the tents with the help of the moonlight and our torches. Into the night, and some 45 minutes later, the tent was up and ready. People piled inside with their precious cargo and carriage. Jill was huddled up , down with AMS and with a sullen look. It took a lot of cajoling and all just to make him talk. I set up the stove first, and this time I lit it up like a pro!! No hassles, just the warm blue kerosene flame from the stove. Started boiling the water again for the noodles. We had carried some cooking oil from Chhatru for the canned fish and the pork. Dumped a full pack of Top Ramen Smoodles into the hot water and the noodles were ready in ten minutes. Passed on the food to the people around, but they had lost appetite - partly because everyone was down with AMS , particularly Jill and Vikram. Still, Kenny, Anshu, Gyan and I managed to finish the noodles and I made some tuna for Jill, followed by pork. Vikram felt better after popping in a pill of diamox , and had revived some of his appetite. So he helped me finish off the pork. Anshu and I had gone off in search of some firewood here too, but alas, firewood was one thing that eluded us where we needed it most. The temperature started plummeting rapidly and everyone made up their sleeping bags. Vikram went off for a leak somewhere near the lake shore and after coming back he reported seeing a canine fleeing off from his torch beam. lLater on he told us that it might as well have been a pack of wolves. Well, I was spooked for sure. I was cooking all the fish and pork and I was hoping nothing comes close to the tents sniffing at the utensils and taking a peek inside the tents!! I wanted to see a snow leopard, but not this way!!!!

After the meal, Kenny and I decided to take a stroll down the moonlit light. It wasn't a signt to be missed for anything, specially after camping right next to it. We took 2 flashlights and went off to the lake shore. It was a clear night, the lake waters still and deep, moonlight shining off its surface, no ripples in the waters, the mountains bearing minute traces of their true colours in the moonlight and a chilly wind hit our faces. There was a rivulet that originated form the lake and we shone our torches on it. The water was crystal clear and we could see hundreds of underwater organisms in the light. Freezing water it was , but there were so many organisms teeming underwater and I could not make out what exactly they were feeding on. Suddenly Kenny tells me "Don't run". I ask "Don't run from what?". "If anything wild comes along", he says. Shit scared I was!! It took me some guts to walk to the absolutely silent and lonely lake shore, the tents some 100 metres away and this guys was talking about wild canines!! Still I managed to rake in some of the absolute essence of the beauty of the moonlit lake, before the uneasy calm managed to ruffle my nerves. I also let my fantasies run wild, thinking that the lake might harbour some Lochness-kind-of-monster and that we'd be the lucky ones to take the first ever snaps of it!!! There's one thing about this lake....you just cant make out where the water starts and the shore ends - day or night. The water's just so clear, its just amazing. I told Kenny I was going back into the tent and so he followed me. Once inside, I barricaded the zipped openings of the tent with my backpack and stuff, careful not to take a chance. Took a diamox and tried to sleep. But I was getting cold feet, literally. It was so damn cold, I couldn't sleep a wink the whole night. Tried best to keep myself warm inside the sleeping bag, but it felt like someone had put in an ice pack right inside the sleeping bag. I had no choice but to squirm and twist inside the sleeping bag for the rest of the night, body warmth slowly seeping away from my body.

Into The Wild

2008-09-22T21:11:00.009+05:30

Day 4 : Trip 717 km

Manali to Chhatru ; 09.09.08

None of us woke up early the next day. We all had a leisurely breakfast, no rush, and were up and ready by 1100 hrs. We beelined to the filling station to top up our tanks and to fill up our Jerry cans; The next petrol pump was at Kazaa, quite some distance away and we had no idea of the terrain. While the guys were filling up, I scooted some distance ahead towards Prini.......some old memories beckoned me. Took some snaps of a particular hotel......french by the name - DiVivendi. Then I scooted back to the filling station to find the guys still on the job of filling up their Jerry cans. After the fill-up, we all started off towards Rohtang La, one after the other - in a bee line, careful not to leave anyone behind.

We had intially planned that since the distance from Manali to Chandertaal was around 115 km, we'd be able to do it in one day. Were we wrong!!!! The ride to Rohtang was relatively hassle free. Anshu had his first of many falls on the way to Rohtang pass. Not his fault, it was one tricky and steep hairpin. Even Kenny and Vikram had issues negotiating that turn, and I remembered that turn very well. It was on that turn that we had met Sanajy and Amol the previous years and great buddies till date. Many stops later and some tricky negotiations by Anshu, we finally made it to Rohtang after a gruelling 3 and a half hours. Lunch at Rohtang pass was maggi and omelette's on top, topped up by some swigs at the Old Monk from our hip flasks, which by now had started leaking from the caps. All the more reason to swig at the hip flasks!!

Deciding not to linger on much at Rohtang La, we hopped onto our steel horses and spurred them on. Just after Rohtang, we encountered a hailstorm. Out came the rain suits, and after a brief halt for putting them on, we carried on. The steep inclines and the pitting hailstones made the ride a tad uncomfortable. But we knew the stormy weather meant the sky was gonna get dark soon. So we tried to make the best time possible, squeezing out the best speed we were comfortable with. Soon enough we reached Gramphoo, the point where the road forks out -one goes towards Keylong and Leh, and the other one towards the Spiti Valley. Its very easy to miss except for a signboard that shows the way to the Spiti Valley. There's nothing but a milestone saying "Gramphoo 0 km" to distinguish the place from any other fork on the road. We veered to the right and entered Spiti territory, immediately greeted with some fantastic views in spite of the hails. There were eager shouts and waving of hands from Gyan, Kenny and me. From Jill's look on his face, I could make out that he wasn't too comfortable with the ride - perhaps he was too worried about his bike or perhaps he was a bit sick with the altitude. Whatever, he had no option but to keep pushing with the rest or fall behind.

The road was horrible though, and we made slow progress. We had grossly under estimated the roads. Our average speeds came down to just 10 km/hr. It was growing darker by the moment and we decided we had to camp fast. Some 2 km before Chhatru ( we didn't at that point of time that the faint lights ahead were of Chhatru) we came across a nice place to camp...a somewhat high place, with a small stream rushing by, and a large river down below. We hurriedly set up tent - a race against time. Jill and Anshu giving instructions on setting up tent, while Kenny and Gyan went about working on it. I went in search of some driftwood for setting up a fire, but all I could come across were small twigs and branches. Still, I crammed as much as I could find into my bike's saddle bags and raced back towards the campsite. The fellows had still to set up one more tent, and it was dark by that time. It was precisely 1800 hrs. I had to light up my headlights and turn them towards the tent to help the guys with some light.

Finally we were done with the tents!!! We all piled our stuff inside and I and Kenny made an attempt to light up the stove. No luck. After a few tries, we tried looking for help. A forest rangers' camp was nearby and we tried to ask them for assistance. The good samaritan came into our tent and lit up the stove for us. At last we could make something to eat!!!! We put on some water for boiling , while the rest of the guys savoured in the surrounding beauty. Jill was down with AMS and popped in a diamox and rested inside a tent. The water had boiled and we took out our cup noodles. Kenny and Gyan took out some sleeping mats and laid them down just near a cliff sort of thing. I put all the twigs I had gathered in the centre of the sleeping mats and also put a lit candle. Talk about dinner by the candle light!!! A little kerosene on the twigs and they lit up with crackling noises. We tried to enjoy it while the fire lasted, the guys settling into a warm laze on the sleeping mats. Anshu and Jill missed it cause they were busy rolling up a joint inside a tent. It was cup noodles time and we poured in the hot water into the noodles and they were tasty in a jiffy!!!

We opened up a can of tuna fish and I poured the contents onto a saucepan. Soon we had tuna fish as a supplement! Then we tried a can of pork the same way, which was taken well with the old monk in our hip flasks. I took a stroll, high-fived Kenny for finding us such a beautiful place for a campsite - river rushing below , stream flowing near, the moonlit starry sky and a valley to boot. I drifted onto some memories of promises made , put on some blues on my walkman, hoped one day I could keep those promises.

We all huddled into one tent after a while, sat by the candle light and exchanged stories. The stove was still lit to provide us some warmth inside the tent. The hip flasks were passed around, cashews and almonds being roasted over the flame and us munching on them, till we decided to pop into our sleeping bags. I still wanted to soak in some more. Lit up a smoke (I don't smoke btw), sat down on a stone by the cliff side and got lost on some thoughts and memories. It was sheer heaven that evening, that starry night, those moonlit mountains, the river, and the gurgling stream.........

After some moments with myself, I thought I'd pack up and snuggle inside our tent -shared by Gyan and Kamikaze, the other tent shared by the rest. I did have an attack of AMS some hours into the night. Woke up Gyan for a pill of diamox and went out again for some fresh air. It was only after that I could sleep again.

Into The Wild

2008-09-22T18:33:00.016+05:30

Day 3

Manali ; 08.09.08

The next day all of us woke up late and had a lazy breakfast. We had slated the day for shopping for trip essentials like frozen food, cup noodles, stove and kerosene. I had to get myself a backpack, a pair of gloves and some more essentials for the rest of the guys. We also submitted our bikes for service and re-tuning for the high altitudes that we'd be covering.For our shopping Gyan enlisted the help of his friend Gagan, who took us into the alleys and nooks for bargains. We walked down to mall road, gathered the necessities and decided we'd head to "The Lazy Dog",a place that came highly recommended by Anshu. And boy , was it a place!!! I told Anshu I loved him for bringing us into that heavenly place!! I have been to Manali before, but I have never come across such a place as this. Its in old Manali, hard to miss, owned by a South Korean friend of Anshu, Yon, and its atop a rock cliff with the river Beas gushing below - providing a soothing acoustic bliss. We all shared the same views - the place was absolutely stunning.And Yon was the perfect host, checking on the dishes himself, and serving us some of the best tasting dishes I have ever had of normal rice and momos. I urge everyone visiting Manali to just visit this place once, and you'll be hooked. Infact, we all decided we'd book our IOC holiday home for some weekend and just laze in "The Lazy Dog" for the entire weekend. Kenny, you up for a weekend trip in your scorpio?

After a feisty meal, we all hunted for the leftover shopping stuff from the market and collected our bikes from the mechanic. Then we headed for the holiday home and distributed all the food among ourselves. I was nominated the cook for the journey,and I had to learn how to light up the kerosene stove in the process. We had all told Yon that we'd be coming to his place again for dinner and some chit chat by the fireplace. But once inside the holiday home, and the dinner already served, we decided to sit out and have the company of an "Old Monk" there itself. So, we started off another session of rum and coke in the lounge, a warm melee of people looking out to have a good ride the next morning. Perhaps the only person unhappy at this point of time was Jill. He was of the opinion that we should all stay back at Manali for one more day and chill out. But he was outvoted , the rest of the junta's views were like " there's more to see ahead". Oh , and Nawab also got lambasted by Gyan here!! Gyan said that had it not been for the rescheduling, we'd all have left one day earlier and it was dry the previous day, and so he wouldn't have had the fall before Kullu. I second that. Infact, everyone did. Nawab, you turncoat, are you listening?

Well, the session went on into late hours, and I abandoned the guys, citing reasons of sleep deprivation!! I could still hear the guys having a blast long after I had settled into my bed and was onto the second playlist of my walkman.

This might be also a good time to introduce the trippers photographically:

Standing left to right are : Vikram , Me, Kenny, Jill, Gyan and Anshu. And the cottage we stayed in Manali, one of the IOC holiday home huts there.

Vikram was on his Thunderbird, Kenny on his Electra, Jill was on his P200, Gyan on his Karizma, Anshu on his Electra 5 speed and I was on my P200.

Into The Wild

2008-09-22T16:43:00.015+05:30

Day 2 : Trip 623 km
Panipat to Manali ; 07.09.08

The day saw us start off from Gyan's place at an "early" 0500 Hrs and into the GT road, only to be greeted by light showers just half an hour into the ride. What was a cool ride turned into a ride in the raging rains for the better half of the day. The sun brought some respite from the rain just a few kms before Kiratpur, where Gyan has the first fall of the trip. Some mishap with a fellow crossing the road. Anshu was behind him, and he promptly helped Gyan and his bruised bike back on, only to be rammed hard into by another biker's fall exactly on the same patch. Poor Anshu had to be administered first aid too!!! We had all waited for the bruised duo at the junction where the road turns towards Manali. Cameras clicked away at the damages of the first fall much to the chagrin of Gyan, who had just spent 350 bucks on his indicator, and which was now dangling limply -broken and tattered!!

A cup of tea later from a roadside dhaba, we were onto the hills!! Fortunately and very much surprisingly , we encountered a lot less trucks than we did the last time. We figured it being a Sunday, the loading operations at the ACC factory at Bilaspur might be off for the day. Whatever be the reason, we were making good time in spite of the extremely bad patches patches of road that leaped out of nowhere in the middle of the ripping road. The roads had definitely taken a turn for the worse, with wild patches of sticky coal tar at one stretch too. Yuck! my poor 120/80 !! I could just about save it from the tar.

We made a stopover at Bilaspur at around 1400 hrs for our lunch at the same Neelam Restaurant where we halted for breakfast last year. A good meal and a couple of beers later, we decided we ought to be hitting the road soon to reach Manali as soon as we could make it.Some way into the ride , Anshu started having problems with his bike. Someone suggested putting the tank on reserve and starting,which worked! Later we found out it was actually the tank running dry. And it was at one of those stops that Anshu had a very very very narrow escape from being hit by a Himachal Road Transport bus. We had stopped at a petrol pump to see what was causing Anshu's bike to stall, and when the bike started thumping normally , I got back on the road and waited for Anshu and Vikram to get behind me. I saw a HP bus zip by me and after seconds I heard was a booming "screech" of brakes and that's all...it was only after Kamikaze told me that the bus had braked so hard for Anshu, that I realized what a harrowing experience it must have been. Damn Anshu! You are one lucky dude!!

Then again, nature had other plans. After Sundernagar, the weather started turning inclement, and started a steady downpour that lasted all the way till Kullu. Frustrating though it was , we decided to brave the rain and move on, eating away miles at a slow pace. Anshu particularly had problems with his "snow goggles", a fact observed by Gyan and we offered to escort Anshu , hoping the tail lights ahead of him would provide some relief. We crawled on and on, the rain drops biting at our faces. It was very very tiring and the glaring headlights of the oncoming vehicles made it so much more difficult. Some distance before Kullu, I was the last in the line , and in front of me was Gyan. As I was negotiating a particularly sharp turn, I saw Gyan's bike's tail lamps, but the horizontal orientation of the tail lamps puzzled me at first. A split second later I realized Gyan had skidded and taken a fall. Sure enough, as my low beams hit the road, I saw Gyan sprawled on the road, rains lashing no end. I helped him onto the bike and after making sure everything was ok with his bike, we trundled on. A few kilometres ahead of us , it was Anshu who had his bike parked at the road side. His bike had run out of petrol. I went scouting up and down for some petrol, only to find either the pumps had closed, or they had run out of petrol. Frustrated , we took a litre of petrol out of Gyan's bike and hoped Anshu's bike would be able to make it to the next pump station and luckily it did! Anshu filled up , so did Gyan and we moved towards Kullu where the rest of us waited for our safe ride.

We found the rest of the guys waiting for us at Kullu, and by that time the rain had subsided somewhat. We decided to stick as close as possible from thereon to be able to help one another if another need arises. It was a hard and long ride from Kullu till Manali - the roads had deteriorated and we had trouble navigating the potholes and pebbles in the dark. After a ride that never seemed to end, we finally reached the "green" check post at Manali, paid bloody 600 bucks for the six bikes and after picking up some coke , we proceeded towards the IOC holiday home near Hadimba Temple. To our relief we found the holiday home guys waiting for us to help us out with the baggage. It was 2245 Hrs when we put our bikes on the stands, and it was 2310 Hrs when we had our pegs of Old Monk in our hands to toast us for making it to Manali in one piece - both bike and body!

We all crashed into the inviting warm sofas in the lounge section, while everyone piled their stuff inside their rooms. We had the whole cottage to ourselves and we made the most of it. Dinner was ready and we went on with our partying till we were famished and hogged away at the sumptuous food. People were still bent on making merry, pulling each other's legs, while I decided to hit the sack. I was droopy eyed and needed some sleep pronto, and after a while, the others too piled onto their beds........a sound sleep awaiting each of us.

Into The wild

2008-09-22T16:04:00.006+05:30

Day 1 : Trip 126 km

Delhi to Panipat ; 06.09.08

Yes, its a short ride, but our first pit stop was at Panipat, more precisely at Gyan's place.I was the first to zip to Gyan's place, since I was carrying a precious load of an ice pack of pork, and I had no intention of letting the ice melt!!! I clocked an average of 93 km/hr to Panipat after leaving the guys at Murthal for their lunch. The plan was to pick up Gyan from Panipat, take rest over there , start off early next morning and clock Panipat-Manali in one day. Looked good on paper atleast.

The guys reached Gyan's place in the evening and they took off towards the nearest theka to ration ourselves with Old Monk for the entire trip and the evening that ensued was a leisurely one of whisky and pork and chicken tandoori. We started quite early, even before sunset, so as to be done with dinner by 2200 hrs. Needless to say the evening hours extended by quite a margin and people found themselves on the bed not before midnight. That was followed by a short nap to wake up at 0300 Hrs and get ready with our bags and bikes.

It was probabably the only time we woke up early during the entire trip, and all of us were set to rip at 0500 Hrs. Anshu, with his huge backpack and Jill, with his slippery rucksack, needed help with their bungee cords , but we all managed to get our stuff onto our bikes in about 90 minutes. I was planning on buying a North Face backpack from Manali, so I had to cram all my stuff into an airbag and my saddle bags, but somehow I managed to do it.

Into The Wild

2008-09-22T12:28:00.014+05:30

A road trip to Jaipur, a weekend ride to Chail and numerous short trips weren't enough to satiate the need in us to get away from it all, to lose ourselves from the vagaries of our mundane lives. And we patiently waited for our annual getaway, and among the destinations debated, we zeroed in on Lahaul and Spiti Valley....one of the most talked about, and also one of the most torturous, circuits among riders. After fiddling with the dates, and numerous mails later, we decided we'd start off on September 5th : "we" being Kenny, Jawed a.k.a. Jill, Gyan, Himanshu a.k.a. Nawab, Anshuman,Vikram a.k.a. Kamikaze and yours truly as the sure shot trippers. We filed for leaves at our respective offices and most of us confirmed the sanctioned leaves, save one guy - the Royal Ass Nawab!! That guy is one proper screw up this time. Last time he was one of the most enthusiastic and we were left wondering what he was up to this time. Members of the last trip wondered if "Nawab koi galat kaam nahin toh kar raha hai?"!!!

Anyway, Gyan and I started booking our IOCL Holiday Homes in Manali and Shimla and we had confirmed bookings in a few days. We mailed the confirmation intimations on the mailers and had approving nods from the members.

Some days later into the preparations, Nawab suddenly calls me up and says he didn't know we were leaving on the September 5th. Bloody hell I cried, it was almost a month after the bookings and now this fella was asking us to postpone by one day. All of us abused Nawab no end, but being the shameless fellow he was/is , our profanities mattered little to him and requested us to change the booking dates. Mad as hell we were , but for the sake of our compatriot Gyan and I cancelled our bookings and re-booked for different dates simultaneously, wasted 4 precious cheque leaves and got confirmations yet again after a few days. We all asked him if he was ok with the new dates, to which he happily replied yes. He was warned that there would be no more cancellations/rescheduling whatsoever. Anshu and Jill even went to the extent of saying that it was totally unwarranted and that they didnt have any idea of the rescheduling at all. But anyway, Kenny and I calmed Jill down saying it was done for our darling Nawab.

Our trip preparations started with shopping for bike items at Karol Bagh, tent bookings, bike servicing et all, while Nawab remained in bliss in his favourite Gujjuland. Neither was he communicating with us, nor was he giving us any details of his leave status. Then, one week before the trip - BETRAYAL!! Nawab announced he wasn't joining us for the trip, citing reason as "Dil se awaaz nahin aa rahi hai"!!!!! We corrected him saying that the real reason he wasn't joining us cause he had grown too greedy marketing his ass over there. All vent up angst of our hassles of re-scheduling and taking care of Nawab's shopping needs went in hurling the choicest of "gaali"s on Nawab and we went on a silent mode with him from thereon. Kenny immediately removed his name from the mailing list and everyone complied, happily.

With Nawab out of the picture, we now concentrated on our final preps and I decided I'd quit office on 5th Sept itself and move on towards Delhi. Anshu and Jill got done with the final shopping , including toileteries worth 500 bucks by Anshu!! Essentially, my trip started on the 5th itself. The guys gathered at Jill's place on the 5th eve, barring Kamikaze who joined us early next morning, all geared up and raring to go. Incidently, 5th happened to be Jill's birthday and we had b'day celebrations over a bottle of Haig and chicken . Not a bad way to start off the trip!!

"On the beaten track"

2007-11-29T21:21:00.000+05:30

A call to comrades

Heres an open invite for suggestions from our brothers in arms for our next escapade, hopefully sometime early next year.

Himanshu is of the opinion that we do a west coast trip, start from Rajasthan (Thats his current work place, the ass!!), along Gujarat, Maharashtra and Goa. Basically down the Arabian coastline; distance being the farthest time allows us!

Amol and Sanjay's opinion are invited.

"The Trail" : Day 13

2007-11-02T22:44:00.000+05:30

Anandpur Sahib to Delhi 21.09.07

A well deserved sleep later, on a beautiful misty morning of 21.09.07, we woke up to the alarms ringing off on our cellphones. The usual routine of packing our stuff onto the bikes and getting fresh thereafter ensued and we were off at 0800 hrs. We were'nt expecting anything much on this ride except for the blitz down NH1!

Breakfast was at one of the numerous punjabi dhabas that dotted the entire highway. Thereafter, we moved at a quite racy pace on the highway, making it to Chandigarh at around 1100 hrs. After filling up our tanks and gazing around the well planned( and fashionably well-inhabited!) sector 17 , we caught up with NH1 and gunned our bikes.

The uneventful ride, lazy roads and the warm sun was beginning to take its toll on Sanjay, who was complaining of a hungry stomach now and then. We had intended to stop for lunch at Murthal and it took quite some coaxing on our part to keep him going! Much to our relief ( I wouldn't prefer a bashing from a hungry Sanjay!!), we reached Murthal at 1530 hrs and had the usual delectable paranthas and dal makhanis.

Then followed a non-stop ride to the outskirts of Delhi and the burgeoning concrete jungle. We lost Sanjay and Amol somewhere along the way. As we merged with the busy Delhi traffic, this realisation dropped on us - our vacation was over. I was feeling particularly gloom, one for the fact that we had just left paradise and found mundane mortality; and the other for the fact that Amol and Sanjay were nowhere to be seen. Its kinda difficult to find words for these feelings. Amol and Sanjay had been aquainted with us just some days back...and now they were comrades - brothers in arms. Kenny also dropped the fact that it'd be impossible to find them in the traffic, and I kinda muttered to them that we couldnt even bid them goodbye. After a while, we just stopped at the side of the road and tried calling the guys. Kenny got through after a while and asked them to meet us at the Gurgaon exit at Dhaula Kuan. Its funny when you meet people you have known just a little while and the pleasure you get when you find them again. It was none but relief and jubilation when we caught up with the guys sitting at the side walk, waiting for us. What followed were hugs and mutual congratulations on making it back to Delhi, on making it back from a pilgrimage of sorts.....and being blessed by the heavens up above,literally.

I checked my tripmeter when we reached Kenny's place : 2868 km

We planned to meet them for a celebration at The Supper Factory after we had freshened up and they had checked into a hotel; and so we did. What a night it was!The mood was mellow, the beer was flowing, and our bodies bearing the signs of 13 days on the road.

Well into the late hours, a stroll through AIIMS and goodbyes later, we headed back for Gurgaon leaving Sanjay and Amol at AIIMS with their friend. I was already half asleep and half lit by the time we reached Kenny's place and it didnt take long before I just dropped on the mattress and dozed off.......dreaming about the next road trip!!!

" The Trail " : Day 12

2007-10-23T16:26:00.000+05:30

Manali to Anandpur Sahib : 20.09.07

A good evening in Manali, a brisk walk down mall street and a really cool dinner at Khyber Restaurant made us a tad late for the next day's trip. To make matters a bit more trifling, there was a steady downpour all morning. An hour later, the rain was showing no signs of abating down. Well, we couldnt waste much time sitting inside the hotel rooms and we reckoned that the rain would probably stop after Manali. So , we donned our rain suits and set off on the day's journey. As we had imagined,as soon as we had passed Manali, the rain stopped and we made good time thereon. It was quite a fast ride..and I got a wee bit reckless as I tried to outpace a Maruti Alto in a turn.....only to jam hard on the disc and swerve back to avoid an oncoming Qualis!

Well, I was a bit wiser from then on, but nevertheless making good time. Some time later on the mountain road and sometime behind Sanjay's bike (I like to ride behind and see the bikes ahead of me making the turns) I thought I noticed yet another wobble on Sanjay's rear wheel. Fearing the worst, I asked Kenny for a second opinion. But Sanjay had picked up speed and it was impossible for Kenny to make out whether it was really wobbling or not. However, after a while when he had slowed down, Kenny did confirm that the wheel was indeed out of alignment. I gunned my engine and zipped ahead of Sanjay before he could scoot off again and indicated him to park his bike. On inspecting his bike, it was confirmed that the wheel definitely had to be taken to a mechanic. The nearest town was Mandi, and somehow they limped to a mechanic. Darn! 5 spokes had kicked the bucket and there goes atleast 2-3 hours of travel time! So we did what we had to go - wait patiently while the mechanic does his thing. The skies turned ominous and as Himanshu had predicted some time before, it started pouring cats and dogs. The rain did serve a good purpose of showering our dusty bikes, but made a mess out of my sleeping bag. What the heck, I wasnt going to use it anyway; so I let things be.

A good hour and a half later, Sanjay's bike was ready and we resumed on our journey. We decided to fill up our stomachs before we left Mandi, and so we did...at a roadside dhaba. It hadnt stopped raining entirely, but we decided to move on slowly instead of staying put.

It was an uneventful ride onwards till I had a scuffle in Sundernagar. At a traffic junction, a CBZ extreme leapt out of nowhere cutting me off. I had no option but to jam as hard as possible on the brakes. My bike screeched and wobbled and it was impossible for me to control the bike with all the weight and the backpack on me and finally after depositing rubber on the tarmac, I skidded to a fall. Luckily, I had retarded completely and suffered no injuries and none to the bike whatsoever. I was almost ready to pick a fight with the reckless fools, when Amol and Sanjay just stopped me and got my bike up. I proceeded with a glum mood until after sometime, we caught up with Kenny and Himanshu and narrated the incident.

Tired as we were, we were impatient to reach Anandpur Sahib; But darkness had caught up with us while we were still some distance away. A very horrible ride from Bilaspur onwards, with all the dust and flakes, Himanshu had had enough of it and suggested we make a pit stop at the nearest hotel. But as fate would have it, we didnt find any decent hotel before Anandpur Sahib and we proceeded to the hotel we had logged in on our onward journey. It was well into the night when we had finally got our bags inside the hotel rooms. We had clocked 2475 km till this point.

Wiser from the previous failure of finding a "theka", this time Kenny and I got onto my bike and went in search of a watering hole. Some 4 kilometer outside the city wall, we did find one and loaded my saddle bags with precious "holy water".

A good dinner and "cleansening" with "holy water" later, we plonked on the bed and were sleeping logs in no time.

"The Trail" : Day 11

2007-10-16T07:49:00.000+05:30

Darcha to Manali : 19.09.07

We woke up the next day on lazy notes and had a leisurely tea at Lama's before moving on towards Keylong at 07.30 hrs. Keylong didnt take much time as we had no stops in between and soon we were at the Chandra Bhaga Resort for breakfast. We decided to log more miles and reach Manali well before the evening by skipping lunch , thereby hoping to shave off a good 90 minutes of our travel time. Breakfast was a medley of toasts and omlettes, followed by Himanshu's order for paranthas.

Breakfast completed, we hopped onto our bikes again and started off quick for Manali. Amol and Sanjay topped up their fuel tanks at Tandi, wherelse we decided to use the last litres of petrol left in our jerry cans and dump the cans.

The journey was relatively uneventful, saving a few video shots of us negotiating a stream/road crossing. Before Koksar, the road was particularly pebble and rock strewn, owing to an on-going road construction. Somehow Kenny and I felt like letting go of inhibitons and ripped our bikes on the stretch. For long I had been nurturing my "babe" on rocky terrain and I suspect the suspension had softened up quite a bit after all the play; So I decided to let loose the throttle and I must say, we did ride quite fast. Himanshu later caught up with us and was like "Guys, you ripped on the dirt track"...to which Kenny replied " We are rockstars , man"!! Not bad at all!!!

Rohtang came up quite fast, faster than we had anticipated. Just some kilometres before Rohtang, I stopped to take a few snapshots of the valley below. It was getting windy and hardly had I parked my bike and taken off my gloves, when a gust of wind blew one of my gloves on the edge of the cliff. Kenny was shouting at me to grab my glove, but the helmet prevented me from hearing him prperly. By the time I knew what he meant, the glove had been carried away over the edge. There I was, one glove in hand and the other down below. Kenny sported me on to go do to mountaineering and salvage my glove, to was I replied in negative saying I wasnt nuts!! Kenny insisted...but not before requesting my bike keys before I went ahead, and then Himanshu chimed in requesting my digicam...and then Sanjay requesting my shades!!! One look at the edge and I dropped whatever idea I had in mind!! But the weather looked worse at Rohtang top and clouds had settled in. I searched for my woollen gloves and decided to make the rest of the journey with the woollen gloves. It was hard, my fingers getting bitten by the cold wind, but I managed it somehow to Rohtang. A cup of tea later a Rohtang, we moved on towards Manali. After riding on the treacherous terrains from where we had come from, the metalled road from Rohtang to Manali was like an expressway for us!! I made it to Manali in an hour flat, docking at a service station at 16.00 hrs.My tripmeter read 2226 km when we reached our hotel.

We checked into the same hotel at Manali and a somewhat luke-warm bath later, we went out roaming on the streets, got pics of both our digicams burnt onto dvds and went to a Khyber bar and restaurant. A few bottles of beer, one limca for celebrations and dinner later, we went to our hotel rooms and crashed into our beds first thing.

"The Trail" : Day 10

2007-10-13T08:46:00.000+05:30

Rumtse to Darcha : 18.09.07

We left Rumtse at 07.00 hrs after a very hasty tea and hoped we could gain some time we lost the day before. All was seemingly well and we zipped by the roads. Himanshu was leading and we heaved a sigh of relief as we passed the point where Sanjay's bike had broken down the day before. We hoped to make it to Darcha if we kept the pace as it was and were quite confident we'd make good time since we wouldnt be stopping much for snaps and all. Just one km before Tanglang La, we found Himanshu waiting with his bike parked at the side of the road. We thought it was the usual routine for Himanshu - ripping and leading the way, only to be waiting for us to catch up with him sometime later. But as I approached him, he gave me a "got f****" gesture with his hands! I thought he meant the road, cause we had to pass through some very tricky slush and mud patches and some ice tracks too. But as I stopped near him, he broke to us that his rear tyre had blown a puncture!! It seemed Tanglang La was hell-bent on not letting us go!! Then started the deliberation again!! There was no going back to Leh again knowing it would take the whole day and we would be back to square one. Still joshed up from the previous day's "rescue mission", Amol lost no time at all in taking out the rear wheel off Himanshu's bike! Just to be doubly sure it was indeed a puncture, we pumped some air into the tyre with the help of our portable foot pump and took the tyre to a nearby slush to check for leaks, and leak it was! So it was decided that 2 guys would carry the wheel and take it to Pang, some 35 km (presumably) ahead and get it repaired. I suggested Himanshu and I go ahead on my bike and leave the rest of the guys behind with the bike. Some 5 km into the ride, we came across a sign that read " Pang 65 km"!! Horrified we were at the distance to be covered, more so cause we had no means of communicating with the guys waiting for us, we immediately stopped a truck coming from Tanglang La and requested the driver to convey some news from us. We wanted the guys to load Himanshu's bike on a truck, if they found any, and proceed to follow us towards Pang.

Not knowing how lucky the guys would be in finding an empty truck, we moved on , me riding and Himanshu on the pillion with the wheel. We crossed Tanglang La and encountered some really wild patches of ice laden road, some more slush and then we got onto the road. We reached the More plains next and after a while I suggested we switch riders to avoid exhaustion. Himanshu took over from the More plains and suddenly the plains seemed to take longer than it had on the way to Leh. I guess when you are time bound, distances seem to take longer to traverse. It was very irritating to find we had crossed just 2-3 km in about 10 minutes of riding and the milestones, which were placed every kilometre, seemed far in between. After riding on for what seemed a long long time, we crossed More plains and started our descent to Pang. Some 30 minutes later, we reached an Army camp and were relieved to see a puncture repair tent nearby some tent camps. We immediately handed over the wheel to the repair and asked him to get on with the job. Now as we were making plans to head back after the tyre was repaired, the repair guy suggested that only Himanshu head back in a truck with the wheel and I stay back with my bike, cause that would save precious fuel on my bike. He was right, I would be burning off more than half of my tank's fuel only on these rescue missions. Just as we were discussing about Himanshu's lift on a truck, we saw a lone rider on the steep road upwards. We thought it was Kenny, but he was moving too fast and seemed to carry little. So we dismissed the idea that it was Kenny and waited for the tyre to get repaired. Just before the tyre was inflated Kenny came zipping on the road and screeched to a halt near us. We were indeed surprised to find him without his usual load of tent, sleeping bag and mat and only half an hour behind us. To our utter joy, he conveyed us the news that they had found an empty dumpster just after we had left and had somehow managed to load Himanshu's bike onto it. Sanjay was following Kenny on his bike and Amol took a ride in the dumpster along with bags and backpacks. We high-fived each other as hopes of reaching Darcha rose again within us! We waited for quite some time for the dumpster to reach us and as soon as it reached, it took us all to task to get the bike down. I wondered how only 5 people had managed to haul the bike into it in the first place! Some precision tilting and eight people managing the bike and ground support, we got the bike back on the ground!! Amol had become a pro in dismantling and putting a wheel back on by now and within minutes the wheel was back on Himanshu's bike - all set and ready to go! After lunch, that is!!

We had paranthas and dal for lunch at one of the tents and at around 14.00 hrs we decided it was time we moved on. But as we started loading our bags onto our bikes , Kenny found one of his jerry cans missing and Himanshu, his scarf. Search we did, but couldnt locate either Kenny jerry can or the scarf. We suspected the tyre repair guy to be the culprit, but couldnt prove anything and we didnt want to waste time by getting into any sort of argument. Kenny decided it would be better to forgo the 5 litres of petrol and get on our journey. So we started off again on what would be a non-stop ride to Darcha via Lachulunga, Nakeela, Baralachla and Sarchu. Dusk had settled in by the time we had some 40 km yet to cover till Darcha. We rode carefully in the dark on the downhill road and soon , we could make out the familiar dhaba lights below of the tents and hutments.

20.00 hrs and we checked into "our" Lama Dhaba, to be greeted by the cheerful Lama dusting off our dust-laden apparel. My tripmeter read 2080 km and my bike was all dust and mud, the red colour hardly visible with the layers of dust on it. We were surprised to find a busload of foreigners making camp at Darcha for the night and staying at the dhabas there. On our onward journey, we found hardly anyone at Darcha and now there was this big "mela" of foreigners and Indians alike!

After the usual "OB/BP" combo, we had some dinner and prepared for sleep, tired as we were from the non stop ride. 22.30 hrs and we were on our beds and had hardly counted a couple of sheep before sleep caught up with us.

"The Trail" : Day 9

2007-10-12T21:12:00.000+05:30

Leh - Tanglang La -Rumtse : 17.09.07

The day was 17th of September; The morning bright and clear; The wind crisp and dry and the early hours very hectic. We got up quite early, packed up our stuffs, had our showers well - cause we werent going to be having bath privileges for the next couple of days!! Since we had to get our bikes checked for any malfunctions in the air filters or any other nut and bolt for that matter, we decided to go one highly recommended mechanic for the job. We started off for Mohan Sharma's(that was the recommended person) garage with our bikes and getting all our bikes checked took us a couple of hours. We headed back to the hotel to vacate our rooms and it was noon when we finally bade goodbyes to the friendly hotel staff.

My trip meter read 1672 km as we left the hotel and took the road leading out of Leh. All was well as we zipped by the now familiar roads and we were making good time when disaster stuck!! For some time , we were noting a slight mis-alignment in the rear wheel of Sanjay's bike. We had asked him to slow down a bit and get the alignment checked at the next mechanic available , which we didnt have any idea of!! 14 km before Tanglang La , at a very particlularly accentuated bump on the road, I heard a definite crack from Sanjay's bike. He stopped immediately, complaining of a terrible wobbling in the rear. Upon examining his rear wheel, Amol discovered 5 broken spokes!!! After deliberating for a while, I suggested we take the wheel out and rush it back to Leh without wasting any more time. It was already 15.00 hrs and dusk settled in soon at those high altitudes and we were 102 km from Leh at that point. Kenny and Amol headed back to Leh with the broken wheel and we were left behind with our bikes minus one wheel on Sanjay's bike. With nothing to do on the road, Himanshu took out the mats and laid them down by the roadside, on the sheer side of the cliff!! We decided to kill time by taking naps in turns and so we did! It was awful! Every time a truck passed by, the ground shook and we had to get up in fear of falling off the edge!!

I tried to get some shut-eye only to wake up with the terrible headache, the reason to which I had absolutely no idea cause I was doing just fine before the nap. Himanshu said that I might have had a sunstroke, cause the sun was bearing down on us and I had all my warm clothes on. Whatever it was, we waited patiently for Kenny and Amol. The wind had begun to play tricks on us and many a times we could hear the thump of Kenny's bike somewhere down below, only to be disappointed upon finding out it was a false alarm. Many a times when we saw a headlight down the road, we would hope it was Kenny's bike on the "rescue mission", a term aptly coined by Kenny. It was getting dark and the wind chilly. We knew we had little time before we had to make a move. At 17.00 hrs , we decided we would head back to Rumtse and stay there for the night. Now the problem was, what we could do with Sanjay's bike. After much debating and deliberation, Sanjay decided he would leave his bike on the road and come back in the morning with the wheel. We would have to make one trip to Rumtse with whatever we could carry and come back for Sanjay and rest of our stuff. We parked the bike on the side on the road and unloaded all the stuff. Himanshu, our "bungee master" began loading most of the stuff on his bike, knowing I wasnt feeling too well. I propped up one bag from Sanjay bike along with my own bike and that was all. Frankly I wasnt even too sure of my reflexes cause I was really feeling wobbly.We started of with our loads, leaving Sanjay with the bike and rest of our bags. I told Himanshu not to rip, cause I wouldnt be able to keep up with him in my current state. We reached Rumtse "down" below some 90 minutes later to an altitude of around 14000 ft. We found one hotel (actually there were only 3 hotels there!) and unloaded our stuff and told the landlady we were going back uphill to fetch one of our mates. But before that we decided to wait for around 20 minutes hoping that Kenny would be back by then and we could go up to Sanjay together. Half an hour later and no sign of Kenny and Amol, we decided to head back uphill to give Sanjay some respite. Sanjay was anxiously pacing up and down as we reached him, cause it was dark by then and the wind was getting cold!

We propped the rest of our bags onto our bikes and were ready again for trip 2. Still no sign of Kenny and Amol. We decided to give the guys some more time and if they didnt turn up, we'd scoot downhill. When Kenny and Amol failed to turn up even by 19.30 hrs, we decided it was about time we left the place or it would get unbearably cold. The only respite was that the sky was clear and there was moonshine all over the place.

Himanshu was of the suggestion that Sanjay ride on my bike and that way we could all leave together downhill. But Sanjay felt I couldnt do it, and he was right, neither did I. So he decided to hitch a ride on a truck and let us go solo ahead. We waited for a truck and soon Sanjay got a lift from a tanker heading towards Leh. He told us to ride safe and stop the truck at Rumtse in case he missed the hotel. And so we started off and soon were ahead of the truck , heading towards Rumtse. Somewhere downhill, just before Rumtse, I saw one solitary headlight coming from the opposite direction. Somehow, even before the other bike reached recognisable distance, I knew it had to be Kenny and Amol and I turned on my blinkers. And it WAS Kenny and Amol! I briefed them of the situation as Himanshu caught up with me, and soon Sanjay too in the truck. Amol was of the opinion that two bikes head back and get Sanjay's bike. So we decided I lead the truck and download all the bags at Rumtse, while Kenny, Amol, Himanshu and Sanjay headed back uphill to the stricken bike. I led the truck and offloaded all the stuff at the hotel and then began my patient wait for the rest of the guys. I knew it'd take some time as it was already dark and that meant much longer travel time on the road. So I helped myself to some lemon tea and wafers at the hotel and popped in a "cold and flu" tablet in some hope to ease away my headache.

It was 21.30 hrs, when the guys returned and settled into the warm comfort of the hotel. We soon had dinner and were ready to hit the sack at 23.00 hrs. Our cell phones had been on a recurrent alarm for 06.00 hrs all these days now , so we didnt set any alarm inorder to get up early and make up for lost time!!

p.s. I had coined the term "bungee master" for Himanshu some days back on the road. He had a knack of packing up things on his bikes with the bungee cords and that dexterity prompted me to credit him the title "bungee master", to the approval of Kenny too!!!

"The Trail" : Day 8

2007-10-12T15:37:00.000+05:30

Parma to Leh : 16.09.07

Not wanting to lose time on our onward journey to Leh, we woke up relatively early at 06.00 hrs on the freezing morning of 16.09.07. After a quick "chai" from our hospitable Army hosts, we kickstarted at 07.00 hrs from Parma, bidding goodbyes to our saviours and passing on phone numbers. A ride across incredibly beautiful country scapes and "Scottish" farm lands , myriad of small lakes and rivulets, small and quaint villages took us to our vantage point - Tang Tse. This was where the road forked to Pangong Tso and Chushul. We had taken a roundabout of the complete road and reached the place where the road united and led to Leh. We could see 2 rivers culminating into one at Tang Tse and the river from Pangong Tso was murky and muddy, which was how the people at Tang Tse knew that the bridge had been washed away again.

After catching the main road to Leh, we made good time, crossing the familiar Chang La and making it to Leh at 13.00 hrs. We had lunch at a Punjabi dhaba the sign board of which read "Sher - A Punjabi Dhaba"!!

Before we entered the town limits, we paid a visit to one of the largest monasteries in Leh - Thiksey monastery and spent some half and hour there before we proceeded towards Leh.

The total distance we covered from Leh to Pangong Tso to Chushul to Tang Tse to Leh was 422 km and my odo read 1604 km at the hotel. We were famished and after a shower, we hit the mattresses and sleep came in 3 minutes flat!! Himanshu was fast asleep in no time and that left Kenny and I to figure out what to do for the evening. We decided that after an hour's sleep, we could go for a drive on the Leh - Srinagar highway and see "magnetic hill", a hill that suppsedly defined gravity.

At 16.30 hrs, we embarked on the ride towards yet another direction- towards Srinagar. Himamshu was too tired to ride his bike, opting to hitch a ride on Kenny's Bullet instead. The road was amazingly good and soon we came across a Gurudwara - Pathar Sahib Gurudwara. We went in and offered prayers and resumed our ride towards magnetic hill. When we came to it, there was a big board with instructions where to place our vehicle and observe defiance of gravity!! However, what awaited us was a big "kela" as my bike refused to budge and inched downhill. A gentleman in a Qualis insisted that it was indeed uphill and Himanshu was adamant that it wasnt. He suggested using a spirit level to determine who stood corrected. Just then a truck came along and he parked his truck at the spot painted on the road and then proceeded to make complete fools of us and our coveted "Engineering" degrees!!! He just took out his water flask and poured some of its contents on the road!!! Well, Himanshu was right, but we felt we had graduated by sheer fluke!!

We returned soon afterwards and spent some more time in the hotel. We decided to go to an authentic Tibetan restaurant for dinner this time and proceeded towards one "Tibetan Restaurant" kitchen, where I ordered traditional cuisine and the guys went for a butter chicken. We had one thing in common though - 2 glasses of Kingfisher Premium Lager!!! We toasted to our successful ride so far and somehow, the mood turned melancholy-mellow as we realised it was last night in Leh. We took a longer walk to the hotel through the streets, looking for souvenirs and I getting a prayer wheel and a couple of lampshades, and making it to the hotel at around 22.00 hrs.

We had to get our bikes serviced in the morning and pack for our journey back home; So we decided to sleep off then and so we did. None of us were in the upbeat mood that prevailed on all the days before and I couldnt help but feel somewhat sad somewhere inside of me that we were leaving this place, a place that was heaven for us for all these days.

"The Trail" : Day 7

2007-10-08T20:32:00.000+05:30

Leh to Pangong Tso

Our seventh day started quite early in preparation for our 154 km long trip to Pangong Tso - a grand, high-altitude lake that is shared by India and China. We had to make it back to Leh too , so we decided to leave as early as our sleep permitted! However, just to be on the safer side, we packed our sleeping bags and our tent too. Later on through the day, we would thank ourselves endlessly for making that decision!!

At 06.30hrs and with 1167.3 km on the odo, we started from the hotel towards Pangong lake. The ride was uneventful (the mountain roads had become second home to us by now!!), albeit for the numerous reportings at Army TCPs, where we had to submit copies of our passes.We reached Chang-La : level 6 and an altitude of 17800 ft above MSL and also the third highest pass in the world, at 10.00 hrs. To be frank, after climbing the first and the second highest motorable passes in the world, that feeling of elation was a bit weak at Chang-La! Maybe we didnt see 17800 ft as an awe-inspiring height anymore!!!

The sun was bright as we snaked across the roads to Pangong Tso, occasionally passing a few scorpios and innovas on the way. The road was meant for ripping and the views absolute speed-breakers! There were also quite a number of river crossings on the road and a few bridges to boot. After crossing the last bridge, 4 km before the lake, we had the first view of the fabled Pangong Tso. The time was 13.00 hrs and the afternoon sun was shining gloriously on the placid waters of the lake. We sped towards the lake and when we came to it, we just sped across the shoreline in search of a good spot- only to find out that ALL the spots were good spots!! We just parked our bikes at a vantage point, hopped off and took off our helmets to soak in the glorious view that was in front of our eyes. You can make out EVERY shade of blue on the surface of the lake and the sky was a shade of blue that I had never seen before. We just sat down for a while trying to take in as much of the lake's grandeur as possible, knowing that none of our digicams would be able to replicate what we were seeing then.

Then started the flurry of camera shutters going off, as we tried every shot possible. Amol tasted some water from the lake and to our surprise, we found out it was a salt water lake!! I never thought that a lake with its main feed from glaciers would be a brackish lake -and that too at such altitudes.

After quite some time, as we were just discussing our time of leaving, we were informed by some fellow tourists that the bridge that we had crossed just sometime back had been washed away by an avalanche!! Shocked we were, cause we were 154 km from Leh and as the Army put it-the bridge would take atleast a week to be built!! We were, however, informed that there was another way circumventing the lake, passing near the Chinese border and taking a detour that would add another 200 km to our route. Having no option left with us, we decided to follow a couple of scorpios that were also stranded on the lake.....but not before having a look at the raging river of snow and slush!!!! Off we were on the bikes towards the bridge and one kilometer from the bridge we could hear a deafening roar-even with our helmets on! We proceeded to a group of Army jawans standing on a cliff like structure and saw what exactly had washed off- or rather blown off the bridge and the road! A huge river of snow and mud was slushing down the slopes of the hill and there was absolutely not the slighest trace of the bridge that we had crossed just an hour back. The noise was LOUD - in very timid terms! I was witnessing live what we generally get to see only on adventure tv! There's no denying - mother nature IS to be respected!!

Not sure whether we would be able to make it to any village on that day itself, we decided to eat properly and carry some biscuits and chocolates. We hogged well at a lakeside dhaba and without much ado, we started off for uncharted territory. The "alternate" route was hardly a route. There was no road, only a dirt track made by the scorpios scurrying ahead of us. The land was all rocks and sand, cliffs and valleys- nothing more. At times we were riding on cliffs that were dangerously rocky and a fall on the wrong side of the "road" meant a steep dive to the icy lake waters below. It was 16.00 hrs and the temperature had started nose-diving making our cheeks burn as the wind hit our face. After a while , we came to tourist guest house by the lakeside and the "road" ended there - a stark board saying " No Vehicles Permitted Beyond This point. Trespassers will be Prosecuted"!!!! We could do nothing except move on, the terrain offering no respite. There Many a times I wanted to take snaps of awesome places, but my mates advised me not to as we were in a prohibited place and that too near the border!! We had to cross small rivulets and we had to take care so as not to splash water on our clothes - the water was freezing cold!!!!

We rode on ; the terrain was impossible; the huge rocks throwing us off-balance every now and then. Umpteen times we had to struggle with our bikes to go steady;umpteen times we got stuck in the sand and had to mercilessly revv our bikes to free ourselves; umpteen times we almost fell down after running into patches of soft sand suddenly; umpteen times our bikes bottom scraped jutting rocks and after what seemed an eternity, we came across a barren stretch of land-sandy and chilling. I called it a "mexican desert" - nobody to be seen for miles and extremely cold. To make matters worse, we were making terrible time. We were able to cover around 30 km only in about 2 hours!!!

It was dark now and we had to turn on our headlights. It was really eerie riding in that cold desert. The mountains casting a deep blue on the edges and the sky dark after that. Himanshu was like " Just hope that no Chinese check post picks up our headlights and start shooting at us"!!! Our ride seemed endless, not a soul to be seen around, until we encountered a police patrol van. Upon enquiring, we were told that the next village, Chushul, was around 30 km away. We groaned, knowing that those 30 km would take us another couple of hours. After taking some water, we started off again on the rocky/sandy/muddy track. There were quite a number of times when we lost the road and came to dead ends, and Amol would search for the right track with his torch and guide us. And once Himanshu ran right into a herd of black yaks!!! He had to honk his horn for quite a while until the road cleared!

Continuing our adventure, we rode in the pitch blackness of the cold desert/lost world until we saw some faint lights ahead. I pointed out towards the lights and Himanshu shouted back "I see, I see!" Nevertheless, it took us a good 45 minutes to reach those lights . We had arrived at Chushul at 19.30 hrs and after a "julay" to a villager, we asked about our whereabouts!! There was no accomodation facility in the village and we were told we should proceed towards Tang Tse, which was an Army camp, for accomodation. Most villagers had come out of their homes to have a look at us - riders in the night, on bikes and battling the freezing cold and just saved from getting hopelessly lost!! We were told that the next couple of hours ride would take us to Tang Tse and that the road was good.

Without further ado, we rode on and soon started the climb uphill. It was something I really had never tried before - riding in the dead of the night, on steep and dangerous mountain terrain, the night freezing cold, hairpin bends every now and then and with only our headlights for navigational aid. I was made the "navigator" and Himanshu herded the bullets! One pulsar was leading the pack and the other trailing, leaving the heavy bullets in between. The cold was biting and my jaws ached, my fingers were numb and the heavy layered clothing was what provided us with some respite. It was so cold that the engine shut off at idling and we had to keep the revs above 2k rpm just to avoid a engine shut-off.

The nocturnal ride was an experience in itself. We came across wild rabbits, deer and fortunately, no snow leopards!! I was so cold and hungry, I literally saw sumptuous meat as the rabbits scurried ahead of me!!! We took extreme care to ride slowly and I turned on the blinkers every time I came across a blind or a hairpin turn, so that the heavily laden bullets could be prepared for the turns.

An hour or so later, we came across an Army barrack at Parma. The altitude was 15262 ft and the I reckoned the temperature was around 1-2 degree celsius. Kenny suggested that we shouldn't push our luck any further and stay at Parma itself. It was 21.00 hrs and Tang Tse was another 90 minutes away. We had already been riding vitually blind on merciless roads and had been fortunate enough to be alive!!

We informed the jawans of the situation back at Pangong Tso and requested for stay overnight at their barracks. Initially they hesitated citing lack of beds ( which was indeed true) as a reason, but we insisted that we could adjust anyhow. They contacted their CO and after the requisite approval, they told us we could stay. Once inside, we were immediately provided with stoves to warm up our hands- which was so very much welcome!! The Army people were really swell guys and very very hospitable. We were treated to what not - from pista badam to cheeselets to tea to biscuits to gulab jamuns to warmed up mango juice!! We told that dinner was over for us , but still a couple of them went to the kitchen and got onto making some rice and dal. That rice and dal felt a feast fit for kings. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was the warmth with which we were treated, that the simple meal tasted so exquisite; but I will never forget that humble meal in my entire life.

Post dinner, we had to manage with 5 people on 2 beds and mind you, Sanjay was a huge guy!! It was here that our sleeping bags saved us - or we would have frozen stiff by midnight!! After much squeezing and adjusting, we all finally got onto the beds and at around 23.00 hrs, we turned off the LED lamp ...hoping that the cold dont get the better of us!! And probably, for the first time in our lives, we were sleeping so high up in the world........

The pic below may help to know what exactly I meant by a cold, dark "mexican desert". Thats a mountain top casting a luminiscent blue along the edges only......

"The Trail" : Day 6

2007-10-05T14:54:00.000+05:30

Leh to Khardung-La and back

After some walking down the streets of Leh the previous eve, and dinner at the hotel, we decided to apply for administrative pass for Khadung-la and Pangong Lake first thing early morning. We did so the next morning and were told that the passes would be available around 11.00 hrs.

We decided to kill time by spending some more time in the local markets and I suggested we try some genuine ladakhi cuisine for breakfast. We went to one restaurant run by ALUYA (All Ladakh Unemployed Youth Association) which was bang in the middle of the town. Himanshu tried one " Thenthuk" and Kenny and I went for a "Skyue", while Amol and Sanjay decided on something more mundane- bujia. Breakfast turned out to be more of brunch when we found out the servings were huge!They should've clubbed those items under "main course" instead of putting them under "breakfast"!!

The hotel attendant came looking for us at ALUYA(since he was the one who suggested us the restaurant for some local cuisine) and informed us that the passes were ready and also suggested that we leave early. We rushed through our brunch and headed back to our hotel. After preparing ourselves well (we had put on thermal inners, shirts, sweaters, jackets and then a windcheater on top of all that), we got onto our bikes and headed for Khardung-la : level 5 AND the highest motorable road in the WORLD!!

We were beginning to feel at home in the twisty and high mountain roads till the previous day, but the road to Khardung-la was an altogether different journey. The road was smooth and metalled in the beginning, but the metal patches started disappearing after we reached a certain level. The heights were dizzying and the road narrow, the climb torturous and the winds chilling. Nevertheless we were content with the fact that we were riding on one of the toughest roads of the world!!

At 15.30 hours, we made it!!!! We had reached Khardung-la, at an altitude of 18380 ft!!! The feeling was unbelievable, we had scaled the highest motorable road in the world!!!So far we were looking up at the majestic mountains and now we were overlooking all the adjacent mountain tops....

We had a small victory toast( Yes, the "old monk" was still with us!!!) and congratulated ourselves. I felt like I had something worthwhile in my life. I hadnt scaled Mt. Everest, but I had done something my calibre allowed me to. Pushing ourselves and our bikes to the extreme limits on that road is a feeling I'll harbour for quite some time to come....

Himanshu said he felt a little sad cause the toughest was over!! Little did we know that the hardest adventure was to beckon us the very next day!!!

After hanging around for some time and taking a few shots, we decided to head back to Leh. There was this Ladakh Festival going on and a cultural music show was scheduled at 18.00 hrs. We started our bikes again at 16.00 hrs and started downhill. We reached the familiar roads of Leh at 17.30 hrs and freshened up at the hotel. A quick snack at a north Indian fast food corner later, we headed towards the Polo grounds for the music festival. An hour later, we were back to our hotel for a victory celebration!

We made plans for getting up early next morning for our visit to the fabled Pangong tso- a high-altitude lake that was shared by India and China.

At the end of the 6th day , my tripmeter read 1167 km, and we slept off at 23.00 hrs in anticipation for the next day's trip.

"The Trail" : Day 5

2007-10-01T17:06:00.000+05:30

Pang to Leh 13.09.07

We woke up around 06.30 hrs on the chilly morning of 13th September, only to find a sheet of ice had formed on our bikes overnight. It had been snowing the day before and that had contributed to the extreme cold. I was wondering if my bike would start under battery power in such circumstances. I didnt have a kick-start on my bike (I used to call it "superbike" stuff!) and Amol was like " Nilu, yeh tu kaun sa bike le ke aa gaya?". Indeed, I was really thinking that I would have to jumpstart the bike. Now, to find someone who push give that shove from behind! Well, just to try my luck, I brushed off the ice with cables and tried one go at the self-start. A struggling whine from the engine and I let go off the thumb start. Tried it once again and the battery low warning flashed on my bike's LCD console.

Kenny urged me to have one more go at it. I wasnt too keen on making my "superbike" suffer..so I asked Kenny to do the honours. He simply put the choke on and tabbed the thumb start- the engine came to life at a single go and my baby purred on without a note of protest!

After all the preparations,mounting our bags again and a hasty breakfast consisting of soup and eggs, we started off at 09.15 hrs. The initial climb through the snow-soaked mountain road later, we came across to another wonder by the name of "More Plains". It was in this plateau, that we "felt like God" like the dude in the Bajaj ad. From what we knew, the Bajaj ad was indeed shot at the same place. The start of the plains presented us with an awesome view of the mountains that lay ahead of us...and I realised why people talk of places "that had to be seen to be believed".We stopped for some snapshots and proceeded to what we would name as the "infinite lane expresway". It was indeed an out-of-this world experience to make our own road and go our own way! 45 kms into the exhilarating ride on the "More Plains", we came to the climb for Tanglang La- Level 4 and an altitude of 17582 ft above MSL.

A steep and cautious climb later, we scaled Tanglang La at 11.35 hrs. My tripmeter read 980.4 km. Fellow riders had told us that if we made it to Tanglang La in fair weather, the rest of the journey would be a piece of cake. But it was at TangLang La that I had the first attack of AMS. I popped in a pill of Diamox, took some glucose spiked water and munched on a bar one. The spell of dizziness was what prevented me from joining Kenny and Himanshu for a roll in the snow. So we decided not to linger around much around in the rarifed atmosphere and move downhill. A few thousand feet descent later, I felt somewhat better and barring a few stops to take some more snapshots, we moved on to Rumtse for lunch.

We reached Rumtse at 13.00 hrs and stopped at a local restaurant by the road. The lemon tea at this hotel was awesome and we ordered maggi for lunch. Amol fell sick immediately after lunch and we thought it'd be a good idea to just hang around a bit and let Amol rest for a while. Anyway, Leh wasnt too far and the road was supposedly good.

The road after Rumtse was an unforgettable one- with unbelievable scenic views splashed across all around us. We ripped on the road that snaked through the valleys, my speedo touching 96 kmph at times, but not more than that. I suspect the altitude playing the major role in the bikes' under-performance.

An hour and half later, we had reached LEH!!!- the place that we have been hearing so much about but only through other people's tales and Nat Geo and Discovery. Leh- the fabled destination, the fruit of our ( and our bikes'!) labour and countless breathtaking paths later, we had made it!!We had made it to Leh in good time, having reached the main chowk at 15.20 hrs. A few enquiries later about the whereabouts of Old Leh Road , we checked into one comfy looking "Hotel Chospa" at 15.30 hrs. We werent too keen on hunting around for more hotels and besides, Amol and Himanshu found the hotel and the rates quite good.Once inside our hotel room, we just hugged and jumped with each other and slapped high five!!Sweet sweet victory!!! We had clocked a total of 1089 kms in five days.

"The Trail" : Day 4

2007-09-29T15:24:00.000+05:30

Darcha to Pang 12.09.07

On the glorious Wednesday morning of 12th September,2007 A.D. with Lama's hot tea to boot, we started for our next destination- Pang. Getting a "fresh lease of life" by the chilling riverside was another first in our otherwise mundane lives! We found out what the concept of "anywhere" toilet meant first-hand!

The next 37 kms to Sarchu presented us with a ripping road and none was eager to ride lazily.After a while, we came across the first lake on our trip- a pristine fresh water lake by the name of Deepak Tal. The time was 08.40 hrs and the morning sun was just showering its glorious light on the mountain tops, only to be reflected in all its clarity in the still lake waters.No matter how much we fiddled with our cameras, none of the images were able to capture the raw splendour of the lake in the morning light. Inspite of us making the digicam settings to highest resolutions, choosing different modes, Sanjay and Amol trying every lens combination possible on thier very very expensive Canon EOS DSLR, we could at best hope to rake in just a bit of the essence of the panorama. A few breathless moments and some splendid shots later, we got onto our bikes and resumed the rip towards Sarchu. The roads were so splendid with such scenic views that one would not want the journey to end at all. I was thinking to myself "With roads like these, who needs a destination?".......and today, these same roads beckon me.......

We came to Level 2 - Baralachla at around 10.20 hrs; Altitude :16500 ft above MSL. We HAD to stop for a while just to soak in the view that nature had presented us in such a panoramic grandeur. The ride after Baralachla was a steep downhill one and the descent thereafter presented us with another graphic wonder which we termed as the "Grand Canyon of India". There was this river snaking with the highway and leaving a deep and marvellous canyon in its wake.

We made it to Sarchu around 11.50 hrs for lunch and I happened to check my tripmeter, which read 839 km. Lunch was maggi noodles with egg. Sounds very ordinary, but the trip so far had made EVERYTHING we had tasty! We were surprised that whatever we had , we found it not only palatable to our taste buds, but totally relishing too!

Post lunch, we thought we'd chat around for a while and soak in the afternoon sun for sometime. Just about then, we could see some mist forming on what appeared to be our road ahead. The dhaba wallah told us that it was snow- just starting to fall. We felt just a little bit apprehensive about that but decided to press on anyway ."Jo hoga dekha jayega!" was the spirit of our dudes!

The road ahead was just as scenic, if not more grand with breathtaking roads, hairpin bends, witty warning signs by the Border Roads Organisation and very pleasing names for bridges like "Whisky Bridge" and " Brandy Bridge"! We came across a stretch of 21 hairpin bends in what was called as "Gata loops" , which immediately swooshed us to an altitude of 15302 ft in just 21 bends!After the Gata Loops, we crossed another pass-level 3 Lachulunga at 16616 ft above MSL.

Just after Lachulunga, we encountered slight snow fall. No matter what direction we turned our bikes to, snowflakes appeared to be coming headlong towards us. Our gloved hands worked double time in riding the bike and doubling up as our visor wipers. Some twenty minutes into the ride , the snow fall had become very hard and very risky to drive in. Visibility was exponentially reduced and we didnt want to take chances on the blind turns, not to mention there was the the very potent risk of traction loss and ending up in the ravines thousands of feet below! At a certain wide section of the road we found a hard top jeep parked and we immediately lined up our bikes behind that jeep. Out came the tarpaulins and the tent and we were about to pitch tent, when Amol struck up a conversation with the people in the jeep. The person in charge of the jeep happened to be one especially gem of a person - Mr. Grewal, who's a pilot for Indian Airlines. He was gracious enough to let us snuggle in to his jeep and provide us with some hot water for us to dip our hands into. He went out of his way to give us some galaxy bars to munch on in the meantime. From what we found out, he has been travelling on that route for 20 years in a row!!! He's made it an annual affair-sometimes on four wheels, sometimes on a motorcycle and sometimes on a bicycle. This time was on a bicycle and 2 other people were the logistics people in the jeep. 45 minutes in his jeep and the snow showed no signs of subsiding. Finally, when it began to clear up a bit, we decided to hit the road again. The mountain tops which had been naked just an hour ago were now covered with a sheet of fresh white snow-what a transformation! Our bikes were all under an inch of snow and we had to dust off the snow with bungee cords and the tarpaulins. Fortunately, the bikes started at a single self and thanking Mr. Grewal profusely, we bade goodbye to our mentor and hopped onto our steel horses once again.

Pang was just a 18 km drive from where we had halted due to the snow storm. But those 18 km proved to be never ending, the fresh snow having made a mess out of the otherwise unmetalled road. We were lucky to be doing 7-8 km/hr on our bikes, careful all the while not to let the extremely slippery,jutting rocks and the numerous deadly blind turns get the better of us. Half an hour into the drive and seeing only 2-3 km posts go by made the ride extremely frustating. After what seemed to be a never-ending ordeal, we finally made it to Pang-our destined halt for the day. The time was 18.15 hrs We had taken an hour to cross that 18 km stretch.

There were quite a few tented dhabas that provided acco too for 30 bucks/head. We checked one "Khangri-La" dhaba and dumped our stuff inside. My tripmeter read 914km, a faint smile appearing on my face knowing that the 1k km mark wasnt too far at all now!

Highlights of the day: The ripping road in the valleys towards Sarchu; The amazing Deepak Tal; Baralachla; Gata Loops; The "Grand Canyon of India"; Lachulunla; The ride in the blinding snow fall and the torturous 18km to Pang

"The Trail" : Day 3

2007-09-28T17:48:00.000+05:30

Manali to Darcha 11.09.07

The third day saw us starting off from Manali at a healthy 07.45 hrs, considering that it was raining on and off and triggering mild fears about snowfall up ahead. But the ride remained largely uneventful till Rohtang La barring a couple of mud slushes. It was one of these mud patches where we first met our 2 swell future teammates -Amol and Sanjay. These guys had made it on their heavily laden Bullet Machismo all the way from Pune! Amidst informal hellos, we passed them on one of the slushes and made it to Rohtang La at 10.30 hrs. I had missed zero point completely and had gone about 500 meters ahead! I remembered seeing Rohtang all snow-clad and tent-infested couple of months back and that made me pass the top completely! It was only after I failed to see the rest of the guys on my rear view mirror that I stopped my bike; and then after waiting for quite a while for them to catch up with me and them failing to turn up, I turned around and rode back the way I had come from. I saw the guys at Rohtang Pass and waving at me frantically. Only then did i realise that we had made it through level 1(as Kenny would term it!)- Rohtang La , at an altidude of 13050 ft above MSL.

Amol and Sanjay caught up with us at Rohtang Pass and there was this jovial "chai wallah" who was too happy to help us take snaps. We had some wonderful tea and coffee from the same chap. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was the ride, perhaps it was really the tea and coffee, but those cups of tea and coffee felt the best tea and coffee in the world. We thanked the chap for such a delighful beverage, to which he non chalantly replied that he was doing no great job-but that he was charging for his tea and coffee. But for someone to come from the relative comfort of Manali down below to the freezing environs of Rohtang La and serve people like us is a very noble gesture indeed. God bless that chap!

Immediately after Rohtang La, we encountered what was to be the worst mud slush in our entire trip. There were places where the slush was more than a foot deep and we had to struggle with our laden bikes for maintaining balance. We could only shift to the 2nd gear, when it would be more slush ahead and we would have to downshift again. We realised that the rains and snow on the previous days had made an otherwise dusty and unmetalled road into what we were dealing with right now.The stretch took us quite some time to cover , but the roads ahead became clearer, but still snow-wet and hence, dangerously slippery.

However, we made it to the next inhabited place, Koksar,at around 11.30 hrs without any incident. There we stopped for something to bite into. We stopped at a nice dhaba and ordered some wai-wai and tea. The wai wai tasted totally out of this world! Without wasting much time, we got onto our bikes again and started off. We neither knew the road ahead nor did we have much idea where our next pit stop would be.So we decided, the lesser time on chairs and the more on our bikes meant we got to our pit stop in time!

The road ahead was intermittently extremely well built and dirt roads at times. But nevertheless, we were able to make pretty good time and at a "heady" pace, that is until we came upon a dumper truck deep in the river below! That sight was very very effective in slowing us a bit on the narrow montain road!!Continuing up the road, we reached Tandi, the last filling station on the route to Leh. And i felt somewhat proud of the fact that it was an Indian Oil outlet! Tank fills later, we proceeded towards Keylong, the next major town en-route. It was just 6 km from Tandi and we found a good-looking Himachal Tourism resort "Hotel Chandra Bhaga" , where we stopped for lunch. The time was 15.15 hrs then and the hotel staff informed us that it was well past lunchtime and it would be hard for them to conjure up a good lunch. We werent going to miffed by that, and we asked them to salvage whatever they could from their kitchen! It was at this hotel that Amol and Sanjay also caught up with us and we got formally introduced. We had lunch together on what we termed as "leftover rice and paneer"! From the hotel receptionist we found find out that at best we could hope to make it to Jispa or Darcha which were some 3 hours away. After some post-lunch relaxing, we decided we ought to hit the road in order to make it to Darcha well within daylight.

Without further ado, we got onto our bikes again, albeit it was four bikes this time. Amol and Sanjay had decided to stick to us from then onwards. Thank god for that! Those guys were really good company and they always say the more, the merrier. How true!

Some treacherous mountain terrain, some landslides, some more streamlets later, we reached Jispa. We came across some "firangi" adventurers on an expedition called "global enduro". They were all on some 30 bullets, but they had all logistics with them, incuding spares and mechanics. We all looked into each other and said "Naaaaahh!Thats not what you call an adventure!" There was this foreigner sitting on the green lawns of the hotel and sipping on a Kingfisher premium lager in the setling dusk. Never had I felt the need of a beer more in my entire life!!The very fact that we have been riding from 07.45 hrs onwards through torturious terrain was more than enough to call for a chill can or pint or bottle or whatever of soothing comfort of a beer!!

The hotel rooms were exhorbitantly priced for whatever comforts they provided. We suspected the foreign "intrusion" as a cause for the wild inflation. A few enquiries later from a bright and beautiful Himachali gal ( by me!!) , we decided to move on to Darcha, which was just half an hour's drive from Jispa. Waving off to the gal, we resumed our ride towards Darcha.

It was just nearing twilight when we hit Darcha - a hub of dhabas, a police assistance tent , a small village and surprises of surprises-one "theka"!! We made camp at one Lama Dhaba, the proprietor of which was a jovial fellow indeed. My tripmeter read 759 km.

The dhaba was quite homely indeed, with beds laid inside and 3-4 quilts neatly stacked on each bed. 50 bucks per head for beds looked extremely inviting and in little time we unloaded our stuff from the bikes and plonked them inside the dhaba! We had one "Old Monk" giving us company all this while from Manali and we thought it'd be a good time for us to introduce him to our new friends Amol and Sanjay as well! Our overnight stay at Darcha was a good time for all and Lama correctly termed it as a "small picnic"! We had a chilling river behind the dhaba providing a constant gurgle and which also served as an "anywhere" toilet!!! Aptly termed by Lama as "Jangal mein mangal"!!!!

We packed off for the night at around 23.00 hrs, cell phones being put on a recurring alarm at 06.00 hrs!!