When
we last left our roving band of miscreants, they were beginning
their journey into the unknown depths of the enchanted Himalayan Mountains.
We left Dehra Dun and made our way east past Shimla and into the Sutledj
valley along State Hwy 22.
A funny thing happened just outside of Shimla. Stopping to eat, I noticed
a mouse climbing up onto the rear wheel of my bike. I ran outside of the
restaurant to chase him away and he disappeared, or so I thought. Hours
later after a drive over a mountain pass through a driving rain, Jared
stopped to fix yet another flat tire on his bike. We busted out our new
tire irons and foot pump, and put them to good use. As I returned to my
bike to put the tire irons away, I noticed something flat and black on
top of my gearbox just in front of my rear wheel. “Holy wallet-sized!!”
Upon closer inspection, I saw a small, dark, and seemingly fried, mouse!
Peering even more
closely, I noticed that its lungs were still moving up and down! “Damn,
it's still alive!” I had given a stow-away a lift over the pass.
Maybe he was a wanted mouse, or maybe it was Ralph from
my favorite book as a kid, "The Mouse and the Motorcycle". Jared
picked the mouse up, set him on the ground, and he took off into the scrub.
Freedom for Ralph!!! Onward for us….
We made our way through the Kinneaur territory along some of the most
insane roads and surrounded by the most impressive mountain scenery we've
encountered thus far. Absolutely unbelievable- you just really have to
see and feel it yourself to get a good picture of what it was
like. After stopping off for a few days in the beautiful village of Kalpa,
getting permits to travel through the Inner Line (a very sensitive area
bordering Chinese-occupied Tibet), we're off
like a prom dress.
Our one and only stop in the Inner Line is a beautiful little village
called Nako. After leaving Nako, we encountered our most difficult challenge
of the whole trip. We had heard that the road sometimes closed by the
infamous Malling Land Slide was open, so we headed on out of the Inner
Line. Reaching the slide area, we found the road actually blocked by an
enormous land slide that looked like it had just slid...the Malling Slide
strikes again!!! As we were
looking at rocks and sand still sliding and falling from overhead, we
saw a bus stop about a kilometer away on the other side of the slide,
and a stream of people flow forth and towards us to catch a bus on the
other side. Dilemma! What do we do now? Our "Inner Line Permits"
only good for one more day, we needed to get out. We looked at the slide
again. It stood about 4 meters high and about 6 meters wide. “Hmm.”
Rocks and other earthen debris were intermittently plummeting down from
above. Did we really have any other choice? The decision was made, let's
do it.
We scouted out a do-able route over the slide, unloaded the bikes, started them up, put them in first gear--clutch in, and gave them some gas. One of us walked alongside the bike, another towing behind pushing, pulling, lifting, and a third watching overhead for falling rocks. After what seemed like days, both bikes appeared on the other side of the Slide, unscathed save a broken front brake cable on Jared's bike which snapped while trying to stop a downward slide. We all collapsed to the ground, struggling to catch our breath at 12,500ft, wind and sand frantically whipping around us. “Must....breath, sand....stinging eyes......entering mouth....and ....nose.....must breath..…” OK, we got our breaths and composure back, put on a new brake cable, repacked the bikes, and were proudly on our way. Nice try, Malling Slide.
Exciting, ehh? Well, I'm gonna have to be a little more brief for now, because as once sung so poignantly in the classic thriller/comedy ‘Smokey and the Bandit’, " We got a long way to go and a short time to get there.…"
The roads in the Himalaya are intense but well worth it. It is so much fun and satisfying yet very trying on an overloaded and under-powered Enfield. You just can't believe that someone built roads here. Anticipation builds in that bright blue sky as you approach each bend to see what 20,000-ft. peaks await you. Soooo excellent....you gotta do it for yourself to really get it. We continued through the Buddhist-dominated Spiti Valley, stopping off at the interesting gompa of Tabo and at Kibber, the allegedly "highest village accessible by vehicle” at 13, 500 ft. Continuing past Kibber and Kaza, we passed over 100 km of not pavement, not dirt, not loose rock or gravel, but embedded rock roads for hour upon hour. If it weren't for the most amazing scenery I'd ever scene, I would have stopped, cursed something, and then...well, what choice did we have but to go on? SO on we went, finally over a pass and down, finally joining up with the famous Manali-Leh National Highway.
Finally, on the road to Leh. This is the route we read and heard so much about. We were all excited to see if it could match the mind-blowing roads we were just on. This road has its own set of challenges in the form of slides, stream crossings, falling rocks, and much higher altitudes. We drove on roads and crossed passes of 15,800ft., 16,100ft., and 17, 000 + ft!!! The bikes performed suprisingly well and kept steadily moving on up the inclines. It is truly otherworldly on these high roads. I could write for days and days about these roads and the land they brought us through, but that would take too long to put in here, and would still fall well short of a fair description of the experience. I guess that is why people do things like this, to experience for themselves only what can be experienced and felt. The transfer of feelings to another medium can often lose the very aspect that made it special. My advice to you is to come here (we've hopefully made it easier for you to plan with this website) and do it yourself!
We finally got to Leh and truthfully it was kind of a let down, perhaps
due to the age-old axiom--"it's better to travel than to arrive".
It was hard to see loads and loads of tourists swamp a culture (us included)
and we also may have been expecting something more after our long “journey.”
Still, just seeing the amazing Ladakhie culture, the beautiful scenery,
blue skies,
intricate gompas, and staying in the Indus Valley made the journey's destination
well worth the effort.
In Leh, after talking to many tourists coming from Kashmir, we decided
to make the potentially dangerous journey to Srinigar in the troubled
area of Jammu/Kashmir. To do this, we would also have to travel through
Kargil and a dangerous stretch of highway that has seen much Pakistani
shelling in the last 10 years. The road comes within a couple of kilometers
within the line of control between India and Pakistan. We felt confident
that it was OK, and it turned out to be the case. If the area is seeing
an increase in shelling, the road is usually closed to through traffic
anyway. But we did have a small scare just after the pass into the Veil
of
Kashmir.
Jared's bike suddenly decided to quit running. We tried every test to try and find out the problem. Everything was working, so why wasn’t it running? Coasting the bike down the hill, we stopped at a military convoy waiting at the side of the road and asked the mechanic for help. The mechanic and the English-speaking Major in charge of the convoy tested the bike same as we did, and everything passed. We were all confused. The mechanic finally went back to the plug and said, "let me try yours" (to me). Sure enough, fired right up! The freakin' plug was shorting out under operating conditions! When we tested it, we got a nice blue spark so we never even considered that there was something wrong with it. Good 'ole Indian technology! The major then nonchalantly advised us that we better get moving. "I wouldn't be out here after dark,” he said, “Very dangerous, militants!"
Well, needless to say, that freaked us out a bit. This is Muslim-extremist territory now, better not fuck around. American tourists on bikes...nice targets. We followed his advice and cruised very fast down into the Kashmir Valley. It is really pretty there, even when blurring by. We arrived in Srinigar no problems, except for finding where we wanted to go--Dal Lake. Wow, what a crazy city and area! It felt like a completely country--a common theme when traveling throughout India. All around was different architecture, different looking people (physically and in dress), Muslim culture, mosques, and everywhere the look and feel of a war zone. There were army barracks and bunkers at what seemed like every intersection. Guns pointed in you face, troops fully armed in combat gear. Crazy and intimidating!
Finally, in complete contrast to the surrounding city, we found ourselves having some tea in the gardens of our new host—Ali. He found us on the road and told us to check out his houseboats. We reluctantly followed him and found an amazing place to stay and new friends. We stayed for a week and enjoyed the luxury to the utmost degree.
Well
folks, everything has a beginning and an end. Our end of this journey
was in sight. We all decided that we had seen enough of Indian for now,
and we'd like to check out some other countries in South East Asia. We
made our way out of Kashmir, stopped off in Dharamsala to
visit the home of the Dalai Lama, and then made haste down to Delhi, through
Chandigarh. Arriving in Delhi was quite the shock from the peace and serenity
(by Indian standards, keep in mind) of the mountains. It was a great relief
to actually know somewhat how to get around the city and where to stay.
So, the bikes made their final journey under our legs, back to where it
all began, Karol Bagh. We were all looking forward to heading somewhere
new, so saying goodbye wasn't hard at all. Also, we know that we'll be
back.
I want to close things up here but am having problems. Why is this? I
guess I (as is probably the case with most of us) have trouble saying
goodbye or farewell. Reflecting is important but can be sad to accept
that it's over. I guess when I think about this journey, I feel proud.
I feel proud that I left my job, or should I say stopped making money,
left my family, friends, girlfriend, country, sold all my things......pretty
much gave up my life in the familiarity of the US to come and do this!
This which I had no idea would even work- riding a bike through India
and building a web site as we went. I left (and I know Jared felt this
way also) it all behind because I knew it's what I had to do or try to
do to follow what made me happy. And I simply did it. It is so healthy
for your soul to do what you really want. Why not? What are we so afraid
of? This false sense of security we wrap ourselves in? This trip developed
into more than just motorcycling, traveling, and getting away from it
all. These are just the tools necessary to ultimately get to the real
reason, to get inside of yourself and to truly follow what you think will
make you happy. I have also found it strange that by being away, things
you feel about home can become much clearer. I can get pretty fed up with
the US at times...the materialism, fast paced life, pressure to "be
somebody!", etc. These were some of the reasons I wanted to leave.
However, being away from it all for so long now, I also realized how much
my family (it was so excellent that I got to ride with one of my family
members for 2 months) and my friends mean to me, how much I miss the food,
beer, live music, the mountains, lakes, open space, quality of life…the
list goes on and on.
I have especially experienced a perspective change after the bombings
on the US on Sept 11th. It was so strange seeing this happen on TV, thinking
of my friends and family, hoping they were alright. Jared, Lisa, and I
felt so strange that even if we wanted to, we couldn't have flown home
for those few days after it happened. I never thought that would happen.
Then, in Bangkok, to hear the comments from some Europeans and locals..."America
deserves this", "They are so arrogant and self-righteous",
etc. Jared actually pushed some drunk, obnoxious French guy out of a bar.
We have found the need to defend ourselves often. People just don't
really understand us as Americans. I'll be the first to admit our faults
now and in the past, but there are so many good things happening and coming
out of our country that it just really pissed us off. I feel really lucky
to be from the US, and when I come back I will come back looking for balance.
I'll support and get involved with the positive aspects and try and work
around or help change the bad. We have the freedom and opportunity to
do all that, it is such an amazing thing we have and we are so lucky to
have it.
