The Bhutanchal Buccaneers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#