The mountains beckon...

6^th June, 2012

Step 1 to getting Leh’d, reach Delhi and pick up your ride. Not as easy as it sounds, with the scorching heat and no idea where the Gati warehouse is, still I got an address, took a cab and pulled out Goog
le maps, and after an hour of circling around, reached the warehouse. I ran into something interesting there while I waited for Puneet to join me. Right across the road was a Gurudwara and a hospital as well and some 20-30 people were holding buckets of cold water and offering refreshment to every parched passerby, at times it did become, to my amusement a competition between the various groups, but that couldn’t undermine the noble work they were doing.

We went into the warehouse, filled up the required forms, anxiously stealing glances at the bike, standing behind a big pillar. Once the formalities were done, we went to the bikes and gave a cursory glance to whatever was visible above the packing; I noticed she was leaning against the pillar, not on the stand. Now Murphy’s Law makes its presence known time and again on trips like these, what can go wrong, will go wrong, and wrong it went; the buggers had broken the side stand during the transport! This was a major disaster!

What was supposed to be a day of rest before we started riding the next day, turned out to be a rabbit chase for a side stand, we went to every possible Honda showroom looking for a side stand but to no avail, in the end, had to settle for a CBZ side stand, not optimal, but it did the job. Once that was done, I headed to Noida, to my aunt’s place where I was supposed to be 10 hours back, but as luck would have it no rest there as well, not with two naughty cousins meeting you after a year.  I slept at around 11, only to wake up 1 in the morning; it was going to be a tough day of riding.

Grandma and grandpa, true to their habits, woke up at that unearthly hour to flag me off and armed with their blessings, I rode out at 2 am in the morning to the fabled land of Leh.

Met up with Puneet at the Rohtak road and we started towards the day’s destination. Amritsar.

I like early morning starts, there is a certain discomfort that comes with it, but the results are invariably rewarding, it is almost poetic, I start riding in the dark, and as the sun inches towards the sunrise, the hues of the sky keep changing dramatically, the chill of the morning air slowly giving way to the warmth of the first ray of the sun. The ghostly outlines of trees and buildings filling up with the colors of North India. Comfortably cruising in three digits, we reached Haryana pretty early and just outside of Jind, we stopped at a dhaba for breakfast, and what a breakfast it was, stuffed parathas stuffed to the hilt, and spicy pickle and sweet curd – it hit the spot.

The place felt like home, green fields all around and a narrow two lane cutting through fields and occasional village.

As the sun climbed up we zoomed forward, but as Mr. Murphy would have it, trouble again. An incident involving a cyclist caused major damage to Puneet’s gear lever, it was totally bent and wouldn’t budge from the third gear. We had to get it fixed for the ride, but considering we were in a small town that probably hadn’t heard the word ‘CBR’ we just got the lever straightened out as much as possible and moved forward.

Riding through Punjab is a beautiful experience, monotonous as well though. The fields are beautiful, but never ending, the canals flowing through highlight the importance of agriculture in the state, there is also a sense of rusticness(that’s not a word) mingled with the modernity of the inhabitants.

Nonetheless, we made good progress and reached a fork where we were instructed by the locals to take a longer route to reach Amritsar via Ludhiana rather than the direct highway, which they claimed to be under repairs, turned out to be good advice. Reaching Ludhiana was a breeze, good roads all along, undivided though. At Ludhiana we got our bikes fixed, I got the side stand and Puneet his gear lever. We even got interviewed by a local journalist who happened to be at the service center!

But the best part was having a late lunch at the McDonalds near-by. You know you are in Punjab when breathtakingly beautiful women are walking around! I still remember a woman in a red sari.

Having gotten our rides fixed the second time in as many days, we headed out again in a slight drizzle, Amritsar was still a good 100 kms away, but the good news was, we had the GT road to ourselves and we sped through, trying to beat the sunlight as much as possible.

We reached Amritsar late in the night, found our hotel and just crashed.

 7^th June, 2012

The Pangs of partition. The plan for the day was to do some quick local sight-seeing and head to Jammu in the afternoon so that we could devote an entire day to spanning the Jammu – Srinagar highway.

So I figured to get my handlebar wobble fixed, I really can’t stand anything being wrong with the bike. So I woke up early and found a service center, they took her in but said it will take some time so we decided we will stay an extra day at Amritsar and cover Amritsar-Jammu in a single day. I don’t regret the decision I made then, for I got to see the flag down ceremony at the Wagah because of it, but in retrospect I could have lived with the wobble. We found ourselves new accommodation for the extra day and headed out to do some local sightseeing.

 


Jalianwala Bagh was an eye opener; I could literally see events unfolding around my eyes, never to entirely grasp the magnitude of inhumanity and atrocity committed at that very location. We then moved to visit the Golden Temple but skipped it so that we could catch the flag down ceremony. Another good decision, the Golden Temple is simply surreal in the night.

Wagah Border. The center of the biggest immigration history has ever witnessed. The biggest bloodbath history has ever witnessed, this is the site where people who coexisted peacefully, murdered, raped and looted each other. Reaching the actual border is a 1 km trek under the watchful eyes and discipline of the BSF, in the distance you can see the trade gate. It’s a very disconcerting feeling, trudging slowly towards the border; you suddenly swap places with the Sikhs and Muslims slowly walking towards their own promised lands.

It was a fight, trying to get a view of the ceremony, being a weekend; the place was jam-packed, sweaty men and women trying desperately to get a look at the proceedings. But the Majesticness and raw passion of the ceremony make up for the discomfiture, each sentry trying to outdo the moves of his counterpart – a false sense of patriotism and awe of the armed forces gets your hair to stand up on despite the sweat weighing them down.

The Golden Temple, I have never been to a temple that has calmed me down so much, the air around the place itself mellows your senses, the gently lapping holy waters of the tank bund and the shimmering temple in the middle of it. I wanted to spend the night there itself, however the constraints of schedule didn’t permit it.

We wrapped up the day with a sumptuous Punjabi meal at ‘Bade Brother Ka Dhaba’. Oh the taste….

Punjab, you have been too good, we will meet again.

8^th June, 2012

Another early morning start to another day of hard riding, we had to tackle the Jammu Srinagar highway. On the way to Jammu we met the first of many, a fellow traveler; he had rented a Thunderbird and was slowly chugging onwards, going solo. Respect.

Reached Jammu in quick time and had a good breakfast. As soon as you leave Jammu the mountain climb begins and there is a stark change of scenery. For the first time in my life, I saw mountains, some of the craziest corners on the ghat section and breathtaking vistas of the valley, it was like the pictures we draw when we are small, endless line of mountains, a river snaking at the foot and the sun above it all. The temperature also fluctuated constantly with the higher levels getting suddenly cold and wet and then within 5 kms you descend down and start sweating again. The tall flowing grass accompanied the road everywhere.

Riding through these ghats, though tiring, it keeps you involved, giving you glimpses of the fabled beauty of the Kashmir Valley. Houses perched on impossible slopes, huge mountains, serene rivers. The mountains mingling with the flora, striking contrast that… but beautiful in the shade.

We were constant attractions, wherever we stopped, dressed in riding gear, men in black and bikes fully loaded, people constantly surprised by our intentions to ride to the roof of the world.

Finally we arrived at the Jawahar tunnel, time for some fun then, living the fantasy that the TV show ‘Top Gear’ planted in my head, riding through the 2 glorious kilometers 8000 RPM, the engine bellowing in all its glory, reverberating through the tunnel.

Coming out of the tunnel itself is a glorious moment, ‘the last view of Kashmir valley’ says the sign, and what I sight it is, an artist’s canvas passing for a sky over fields nestled within mountains.

Srinagar was still 60 kms away. With the sunlight fading away, we had to push, no time to rest and the road constantly deteriorated, the night making it worse, running into potholes all the time.

Mr. Murphy met us again, all of a sudden, it started pouring, with no shelter in sight, I was completely drenched and Puneet was nowhere in sight. Luckily the rain faded away pretty soon and was localized, reached Srinagar soon enough and Ani asked us to reach ‘Zero Bridge’.

It is quite a feeling, reaching Srinagar, though pitch dark, you cannot but feel overwhelmed the military presence, the quaint looking houses and the river glimmering with the lights. Though it is supposed to be the real start of the ride, it feels like a major destination for us, 1000 kms already done, battling all the elements, we just crash on the bed.

Some pics on the way..

Oppurtunity of a lifetime..

Once in a while life throws at us an opportunity to do something out of the ordinary, get out of the mundane existence we lead.  Very rare is the chance to leave behind the deadlines, the bills, the evaluations, the crawling traffic and the nagging question – ‘what am I doing with my life’.

I was lucky to stumble upon such an opportunity exactly an year back. I had been with my CBR for almost half a year now and was pretty active on the biking scene, extensive touring of the south, covering almost everything up to the southernmost tip of the Indian peninsula – Kanyakumari.

Through my riding circles I got to know many places worth touring in India, I also got introduced to the mother of all rides that India offers – the Himalayan odyssey, a ride to Leh-Ladakh. Now riding, was never my childhood passion, it was an acquired taste, riding to Leh wasn’t my childhood dream, but it is the stuff of what dreams are made of, a grueling ride through the beautiful valleys of Kashmir, long stretches through barren moonscapes and on the most sadistic roads possible, a weary ride and and even weary rider, pushing through the pain and fatigue to pay a pilgrimage to the mecca of riding.

This passion grows on you, even planning the schedule gets you high, you read through blogs and commentaries of people who have been Leh’d. You get inspired to do it even better, not to commit the same mistakes, but you know very well in your heart that nothing can prepare you for lies ahead, the mountains exact there toll, what the toll is, you will know when you pay it.

So, back to the opportunity. Incidentally, this is the prep time for all those who plan to ride to Leh. Still unsure if I should do it or not, I, just for the thrill of it, started making enquiries, how to transport the bike? Where to transport the bike! What route should be taken, which side we should start climbing! What is the correct time to go, when do the mountain passes open up! And just like that, things got rolling, the opportunity was there in my grasp, I took it. Before I knew it, we were three enthusiasts, ready to take on the challenge.

Figuring out the transport was the tricky bit, ours and the bikes. Owning a CBR means you are very finicky about delicately handling your bike, a scratch hurts, a dent kills. There were three options open, load the bikes in a train, load the bikes in a hired truck or get it transported by a courier service. Luckily, Indian Railways struck out the first option (I wasn’t a big fan of that option anyways, can’t bear to imagine the brutal handling she would have gotten) after a major fire incident caused by a motorcycle in a luggage carriage. We chose the third one, having some decent reviews about Gati, plus it gave some leeway about us reaching Delhi as well.

It was a hard day, loading the bikes up for transport, couple of friends from my riding group joined me as well, to check out the quality and process of the transport, they were scouting options for transporting their’ s later that month.

 It was truly heart-wrenching, seeing her packed up inside layers of cardboard and gunny bags, just praying she reaches safely, with a bittersweet feeling, I left the warehouse, this was it, I was committed to the trip now, no turning back…