A journey into the unknown - The road less travelled.

“WORLD’S HIGHEST ROAD HAI VO, THIS WOULD BE THE BESTEST BIKE RIDE EVER,
KAL AMBALA MILTE HAIN"

I said to Aman as I disconnected the call and went off to bed. As I closed my eyes the
whole scenario of planning our trip came across, we planned this trip in mid august
but couldn’t make it due to our exams so now we were going in early October during
the holidays we luckily got due to the commonwealth games. Each and every person
that we came across was against the idea of going in this season as it is way too cold
and dangerous as compared to the summers, but we were too excited to listen to
them as we already had a fair share of waiting.

DAY 1 : The Exordium

I packed my backpack with clothes and myself with knee guards, elbow guards,
sports gloves and my brand new helmet that I dearly bought out of my pocket
money.I apologized to god for lying to my parents about going on a bus as I throttled
my Karizma into action mode.

Aman and I were supposed to meet in Ambala where we decided to chill out with
some of my old friends and to bath our bikes before entering into Punjab. After
travelling for another four hours on the monotonous roads in the plains, we reached
Roopnagar from where we had the first sight of the hilly curvy track covered with
lush green Blanket on both sides. I could taste the flavor of adventure in the air; this
was the beginning of most remarkable 1800 kilometres of our lives!

As the clouds began to gather, we experienced a sprinkle of the holy water from
the sky as a reward (and relief) for our ride from the heated plains. We speeded
through the curves playing games with the roads and each other, unaware of what
lies ahead we were feeling free. This is what a bike makes you feel, as you step onto
your bike you detach yourself from the strings of responsibilities & complications
and you enter into a world of no-one controls no-one, it’s a state of absolute moksha
for the enthusiasts all over.

By now the clouds were replaced by the dark sky with a few stars in its plight. With
the temperatures falling down to 12 °C we started to feel the coldness of the
mountains in our drenched bodies which was accompanied by the utter darkness
throughout the track making it difficult to run through. We just had our first taste of
what we were about to face throughout our journey. We reached Manali at 9 p.m.,
got ourselves a cozy room and gave our backs a well deserved rest.

Day 2 : The “Threshold“.

As the sun came up in the morning we dressed ourselves with our Kevlar (knee and
elbow guards) and left the room in search of some paranthas that could keep us
stuffed for the whole day. As we finished our meal and took out our route map
someone shouted “BIKERS”! It was a group of beautiful girls staring at us with their
eyes and mouth wide open. We were enjoying our new found status!

It was hard but we gathered our focus back on the map and figured out the route to
the mighty Rohtang-La.

Rohtang La(La is a Tibetan word for the peak) is situated at a height of 13200 ft
above the sea level and we had to cover up around 6475 feet in 52 km (Translation-
a lot of steep and dangerous turns on the book). The road just after Manali was
exceptionally smooth and well banked for around 23 km which was followed by the
worst nightmare for a person who loves his bike! The road was replaced by gravel,
stones, mud accompanied by small waterfalls flowing right in the middle of the track
and one had to climb slopes through all this while maintaining balance on the
slippery edges, a tough job for both the men and the machine.

As this was not bad enough, so we had to meet this massive landslide which blocked
our way till the BRO (Border road organization) people came to the rescue and
cleared the path for us.
Snowfall at Rohtang

At last when we
reached the top we were greeted by the mighty Rohtang Mountain with a light
snowfall. Here, we met an army man on his post who (repeatedly) warned us from
going ahead as the area was almost closed due to fall in temperature and heavy
snowfall was expected to follow, but we were already immune to this talk so we
carried on while secretly praying for better roads ahead. As we passed through the
peak, we bumped into a criss-crossed web of muddier, slipperier worst then ever
tracks descending directly into a 3000 ft valley. Aman gave me a disgusted look as he
was already frustrated due to the tracks. Now we had to hold our brakes through the
whole stretch of muddy descend which actually felt like punishing our machines for
the sins they never committed!

The muddy roads

Soon we found ourselves amidst of what may surely be designated as one of the
most isolated and uninhabited place in the country with some of the greatest, out of
proportions views. I never saw such deep valleys and such huge mountains. We felt
so “tiny” in front of them. We crossed another series of waterfalls which were bigger
and more ferocious then before (Luckily we had plastic bags to cover our shoes or
else we would have ended up with wet feet in icy cold water and a high fever after a
couple of hours). There we were, once again racing against the clock with
temperature falling down drastically accompanied with the pitch black surroundings
making it all the more difficult to assess the turns ahead. Our survival depended
upon our biking skills and experience and we could never be sure of the edges as
mountains and valley kept changing sides all along. Battling with the shadows we
managed to reach Tandi just before they were about to close the only fuel station for
next the 365 km. We still had to cover 46 km in the cold darkness to reach Keylong
where we could stay overnight.

As we reached Keylong, our backs were broken due to the heavy backpacks we had
to carry through the rumbling grumbling of those stone filled tracks & thus we
settled for the very first place that we could find to rest our frozen backs. This was
where we decided not to travel after sunset at any cost.

Day 3 : A tale from the Wonderland.

The next morning was not the brightest one as we woke up to find a puncture in the
rear wheel of Aman’s Karizma, with only one mechanic in the small sleepy village we
somehow got it repaired but it cost us 4 hrs of precious daylight ( for which we paid
dearly after a couple of days). The mechanic was a filthy and arrogant guy which
repeatedly kept warning us about the tough weather ahead and ordered us to turn
back at once as we laughed away at his “warning“.
 A view near Keylong

We set our sails again to start the journey again with a ‘Hakoona Matata’ feeling in
our hearts. The mood was enlightened as we got some nice roads on our way until a
place called Jispa from where the tracks got filled with the usual gravel, sand and
stones. We crossed another village named Darcha which was marked by a river that
we had to cross against the flow of water while trying not to lose the bikes, which we
did quite effortlessly. As the view of Darcha village got blended in the mountains, we
came across the way to our next target The Barlacha-La, which is at 15400 ft above
the sea level, we were awestruck by the views of the snow laden mountains which
were followed by the shiny layer of sheets of snow in silver and golden colors on the
sides of the track, the valley was converted into a wall of snow. This is where we felt
the decreasing oxygen levels as the altitude was increasing loop by loop. The tracks
were converted into slippery and icy instead of being covered with the usual gravel
as the water on the track got frozen into solid ice, another reminder of the subzero
temperature we were traveling in and the time constraint of reaching to some place
where we could hide our heads before the sun goes down. We met an army truck
carrying diesel on the way and we had this warming experience as we would
occasionally ride along the truck’s exhaust pipe to catch the heat from the exhaust
gases which would keep us warm for a few minutes. We reached Barlacha La well in
time and had a pit stop over the top to admire the beauty and the wideness of the
landscape and couldn’t help praising BRO people for building a road at such a
difficult place in order to keep the far flung area connected to the rest of the
country.
Barlacha-la

Leaving the Barlacha-La and the snow sheets we moved ahead to our target of the
day I.e. a plateau with a peak called Sarchu. We had to climb up and down a no. of
mountains and it became tedious task to keep up with the sun. Just then we got a
surprise from the Mother Nature, we saw a big rock stating “WELCOME TO
WONDERLAND” (probably written by some passerby) marking the beginning of a
vast plateau stretched for around 30 km. It was an amazing thing to see a vast
plateau in the midst of the mountains, I empathize, it was essentially a
WONDERLAND!

As we crossed the plateau which must have been paved due the changing course of
the river flowing parallel to the plateau we saw a milestone stating “SARCHU 0 km”
We made it just in time. Sarchu consisted of seasonal temporary tents for the truck
drivers that pass through the route during the summers, carrying supplies for the
army as well as Leh city.
 Sarchu

We have been riding on empty stomachs since morning, so a bowl full of maggi came
as a blessing. I think maggi is something that unites our nation, you will get it in all
parts of India and Sarchu was not an exception (reminds me of my trip to Gomukh
glacier where we had to fight for the last packet of maggi in the wilderness of
Tapovan). After filling our bellies we went straight to bed in a canvas tent having
mattress laid directly over the bare rocks. As the sky went dark I dared to sneak a
peek in the emptiness of the place. I was amazed at the view of the sky which
appeared to be a sparkling bowl filled with shiny crystals right over my head. It was a
mosaic of countless stars, more then I could’ve ever imagined. It actually felt like
coming one step closer to the heaven, which reminded me that my body was not
adapted yet to withstand the temperature of - 5°C and thus I sneaked into the pile of
mattresses for another night with happy thoughts on my mind. The next thing I
remember is the harsh puking sound which woke me up in the middle of the night.
This was Aman, he vomited inside the tent as he couldn’t move out of his quilt due
the freezing temperature and when I got up to reach for the water bottle, I was
shocked to see that the water in it got frozen. I gave him a few candies to make him
feel better. At this point Aman fell into a dilemma about the journey ahead. Moving
back was not an option because the Rohtang pass had been closed officially till the
next May, so I tried to support him by strengthening him emotionally and so we
went again for sleep.
Day 4 : Always expect the unexpected!

When we woke up in the morning I searched the area and managed to cook some
eggs with due permission from the tent owner to add some nutrition to our
breakfast. We were surprised to see water all around us frozen even under the
shining sun at 10 am. We knew we have a long way to cover and thus decided to
move. The road ahead was a narrow monotonous pathway with never ending series
of rocks on both the sides making it tough for us to stay focused till we came across a
stone saying “WHEN GOING GETS TOUGH, THE TOUGH GETS GOING”. Right words at
the right place, this mantra was about to come handy at many places in the journey
that followed.

The tracks took us to The “GATA LOOPS”, a series of 21 hairpin loops taking you
1200 ft higher in a matter of minutes, Sharp turns with nice banking and slippery ice
deposits on the edges, one hell of a roller coaster ride! This was just the beginning
and the monotonous journey was about to take a 180° turn to become the most
exciting journey of my life. We reached at the top as the rocks gradually got replaced
by shining sand. This was Lachung-La at 16600 feet above the sea level.
The Gata loops

We kept on climbing up and down twisting away along with the sharp turns that
were accompanied by some of nature’s most wonderful wonders. Frozen waterfalls
amidst the sandy desert, the artistic impressions of vertical rings carved by the winds
and the peculiar form of fungi struggling to survive in the acute serenity. While I was
trying to capture these marvels in my camera, I heard a crackling sound. As I lifted
my head up I saw a series of trembling giant icicles ready to fall any moment. With
my helmet and camera still hanging in one hand I pushed the ignition button and ran
for my life as the icicles fell down a few second later. Phew... That was close! Saying
my prayers of thanks I started moving as I was left way behind Aman. The next
 marvel I came across was indeed a masterpiece of god’s art, firstly it appeared to be
a series of hundreds of temple like structures in a row, which turned out to be
conical structures carved out of solid rocks by the high velocity winds flowing
through the area with each of them having a distinct appearance and unique pattern
of design. A magnificent work by the forces of nature.

A natural
wonder

After a couple of hours I reached Pang, which was yet another temporary camping
area (with an exception of being home to World’s highest medical transit camp
operated by the Indian army) I ordered Tea and Parle-G (that’s all one could get) as I
saw Aman vomiting again on the hillside. I took him to the transit camp where he
was administered with oxygen and some rest.

The clock was ticking and a precious part of daylight was already lost. We again
started climb on to the peak as the terrain became rough limiting our speeds to 10-
15kmph. As we reached the top, my heart skipped a beat at what I saw; facing us
was an endless stretch of a cold desert with no signs of a track or a route. I asked
Aman “yaar unhone chai mien kuch milaya to nahi tha na?” Mobile phones, GPS, no
sir, nothing works here! “What to do now?” I asked, “Move straight forward” he
replied as I yelled at myself for not bringing a compass. I was not very sure which
way was ‘straight forward’ but I bought the tip. Seconds later we found ourselves
riding in the middle of NOWHERE! “Welcome to the Morie plains” I said as I zeroed
upon the name in my map as we had to stop to give way to a small cyclone!

Morie plains(wonder why they call it so) are the most lifeless desert one could ever
come across with the temperature well below 0°C throughout the year and almost
no oxygen to breath in accompanied by occasional cyclones, even the hardest of the
fungus finds it difficult to survive here.

Morie plains-16800 feet

A cocktail of feelings of being lost and the adrenaline rush due to the excitement of
‘being there’ flowed through my veins and brought a huge smile to my face which
was soon returned by a growl from Aman, (one growl from him tells you when to
shut up). We continued to march ’straight forward’, searching for some clue that
could give us a direction...
The solitude at its best

The desert grew vast as we moved ’straight forward’ with our bikes struggling to
move in knee depth sand. After haunting us for another 30 kilometers, the desert
gave way to a steep slope, which soon got converted into bikes to crawl at the
speed of 5-8kmph, we had to climb in 1st gear throughout, it was difficult to hang on
to it but we didn’t had a choice.

The sun was preparing to set and the temperature was falling down continuously as
we were counting every meter in our trip meters. After crawling for another 27
kilometers I felt a strong wave of freezing wind from my right and as I lifted my eyes I
saw a board stating “you are passing through world’s second highest road” this was
it, we have reached the Taglang La at a height of 17582 ft. its peak was entirely
covered with a snow cap dazzled in horizontally falling golden rays coming from the
evening sun setting down behind parallel mountains in the east.
 Taglang-La-17582 feet

Aman drove off while the photographer in me forced me to take a stop, as a result
of which I was left way behind. The winds were getting brutal with every passing
meter dropping down the temperature to a freezing - 10°C. While I was trying to
maintain my balance over the icy edges, something squeezed my right hand from the
inside and it started to pain badly and in a matter of seconds it swelled up and went
numb, I had to tear my glove apart in order to uncover my blue-black hand. This was
a frost bite. I pushed it into the warmth of my jacket and rubbed it till I could sense it
again. Then I covered it with a piece of warm cloth & somehow managed to
accelerate the bike down the mountain. Just then I realized that I was moments
away from losing my right hand forever. After another 30 km descend, I was able to
see Aman as I crossed the sleepy village, Ramsey.

Ramsey was a colored landscape filled with red and green and mountains (mainly
due to high manganese and iron ore content respectively) and streams following the
color theme. By now the stars were twinkling above us, we knew we won’t be able
to reach Leh so we settled for Upshi, another small village on the way to Leh. We had
a halt at a house turned dormitory for just 25 Rs. per person and snored away the
day’s blues.
Day 5 : Laying back in the cut.

The next morning we woke up with a sweet chirping sound from the window, this
was a Fire-fronted Serin, a native bird of the region. It reminds me of a Chinese
proverb "keep a green bough in your heart, and the singing bird will bring you luck“,
we needed lots of it.

We were quite relaxed as Leh was only 48 km from Upshi and the roads were better.
We throttled through the arena surrounded by scenery of mountains and the river
Sindhu flowing along with the road. On the way we took a pit stop at a monastery
named `Mahabodhi international meditation centre which was marked by a huge
pile of stones scribed in Tibetan language. These stones served as a means to deliver
prayers to Lord Buddha. An amazing and laborious way to prayer reflects the
hardworking nature of the natives enabling them to survive in such hardships.

Prayers carved on stones

 Aman at MIMC

Soon we were standing face to face to the royal gates of mighty Leh. This gate,
constructed in an oriental fashion, marked the midpoint of our journey.

Leh gate

As we entered the city, we were supposed to be happy to reach back to the

civilization, we had access to a telephone to call our dear ones, good food and lots of
other stuff that we have been missing throughout, but somewhere in my heart, I felt
something beckoning me to the solitude of mountains. May be I got a bit too
comfortable with the filling emptiness of Mother Nature.
 We got our bikes serviced and I must say mechanics here are not to be trusted in
any way. Talking about food, we had a feast at the good old German bakery with
some of the most delicious omelet (and not so delicious apple pies), with our bellies
overloaded, we found ourselves a nice and warm place to rest at nominal rates
(another benefit of coming in off season). That day we wandered in the local market,
most of the things are overpriced but you have to keep looking for the right bargain.
Another special thing about Leh is that the whole city is full of apple trees; one could
eat as many as he wants to and no one would bother! These were the most delicious
apples I ever had, the heavenly flavor striking the perfect balance between luscious
classy sweetness and revolting mouth watering tanginess with a hypnotizing aroma
that still lingers in my mind. These apples formed a major part of my diet for the rest
of my stay at Leh.

APPLES!

As the day went down, we took the required permits and retired to our beds while
preparing ourselves for one of the toughest conquest, ‘The Khardung-La’ officially
known as the world’s highest motor able road @ 18380 feet above the sea level.
Day 6 : On the top of the world.

Woke up at 7, transferred the pictures from my overloaded camera to a pen drive

and left the place to conquer what is officially the mightiest “La” a bike could ever
pass through. From the crowded market we took an empty road going to Nubrah
valley, a biosphere reserve. Unlike the earlier roads this road was a lot dustier and
full of strange, steep and narrow turns. We now had to cover an altitude difference
of around 7000 ft in 39 km (read as “the steepest climb of all times”). We left behind
the chaos filled Leh city to profound the solemnity that I was missing yesterday.

We could feel the air leaking through our ears with almost every passing kilometer,
our bodies didn’t got a chance to acclimatize and the epinephrine from our kidneys
was the only thing guarding our fragile bodies from the oxygen deficiency with the
changing altitudes. Suddenly the whole arena got converted into a rock cum snow
filled terrain with mud and stones all over.

A snow plateau

Here we captured some of the most heart throbbing views of all times.
 A panoramic view of clouds in form of a bike rider resting upon the mountains.

As the distant clouds came closer and started to shower us with snow, we reached
the world’s highest road “KHARDUNG-LA“, the only route to reach to the Siachin
glacier from the Indian side. A mixed rush of excitement and patriotism went
through our veins as we read about the history of the Khardung-La and the sacrifice
that our army men made for it.

That’s me!
Soon the adrenaline took over and at a temperature of -12°C; I single-handedly
marched upon the snow laden peak of Khardung mountain. After reaching to the top
at 18600 ft, I missed a couple of breaths due to the lack of oxygen and realized how
stupid decision that was to climb this high without any equipments. As my muscles
calmed down a bit, I gathered the courage to climb cum slide down from the peak
only to receive a well deserved thrashing from Aman.

Till now we could see the clouds gathering in a ferocious manner and the light
snowfall turned into a snowstorm as we rode down the other side of the mountain.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to balance the bike on the edges of the deep
valley, but the crazy photographer in me again dominated the cautious part and I
began to shoot the snow ride with my phone in one hand while controlling the bike
with the other, later for which I again received a good thrashing from Aman.

Snow laden road

As the storm got brutal our bikes gave up and we had to search for a shelter in a
BRO & Indian Army’s combined establishment. The army people (I can’t name them
due to security reasons) were quite reluctant to let us stay but soon became friends
with us and provided us with food, a bukhaari (a heating equipment ) and three
layered sleeping bags which are used by soldiers in SIACHIN ! With temperature
falling down to chilling -23°C if these people wouldn’t have given us shelter then we
could have been buried alive in the snow. At 1:30 a.m. we heard some noise outside
our cabin and as we were trying to figure it out, a BRO guy woke up and shocked us
by telling “Tendua hai, roz aata hai so jao” (it’s a snow leopard don’t mind him, he
comes over daily) needless to say we were not able to sleep for at least an hour after
that! It’s worth noting that the said leopard shared a mutually comfortable relation
with the army people posted out over there.

Day 7 : To the extremities.

Next morning we got a chance to witness the morning drill of the soldiers in the
snow laden plateau. The soldiers were looking awesome in those big white snow
boots and huge Siachin jackets, unfortunately I was not allowed to capture the
moment when a herd of wild yaks respectfully gave way to the marching soldiers.

Overflowing with the feeling of gratitude we left the army barracks for Darung
glacier, the Indian post a civilian is allowed to visit, adjoining the world’s highest
warground, the Siachin glacier. On our way via Tirkit we also came across some
Bacterian camels (two humped camels that belongs to the deserts of central Asia)
and Mermots which are large, always hungry rodents .The soldiers also advised me
not to reveal the details about the place(s) after Nubrah so I won’t be talking much
about it over here.

So we returned back to Khardung-La and it was a pleasant day apart from a few
slippery moments that swayed Aman off his bike (LOL!). With the sun on our side we
had a comfortable journey.
 Another breathtaking view

Spirits of the valley bidding farewell to us

While descending back from Khardung-La, we noticed that we were running out of
fuel and figured out a crazy way to tackle it; we switched our bikes off and started to
race! And to add to the craziness we were literally pushing back each other by
clinging to whatever we could grab on each other’s bikes. This went on for 37 km on
a barely 7-8 ft. wide muddy road with a valley on one side, and snow covered rocks
on the other. One of the craziest rides we ever had. Thrashing and bashing all the
way we reached back to Leh and retired to the bed.

Day 8 : The ferromagnetism.

Today we woke up a bit late and had our first bath since the day 1. I must confess, I
never really wanted to wash off the dust that I accumulated after working so hard
but it was hard to convince Aman.

Well we filled our bellies at the German bakery and left for Kargil. Now we were
traveling on NH 1. The roads were clear and wide and after a whole week our bikes
managed to cross 100. While on our way we unknowingly hit the Magnetic hill! I
heard of it before but turned it down as a rumor but here it was standing tall in front
of my eyes. I couldn’t help testing it as it drove my bike at a speed of 40 kmph
starting from a standstill! I checked the angle of elevation which turned out to be 7°
that means there is something that pulls a vehicle uphill; as we glanced at the hill we
held the phenomenon of ‘ferromagnetism’ responsible for the pull which converts
the iron atoms into a magnet. (So much for the science involved)

Another wonderful thing that we witnessed on our way to Kargil was a merger of
muddy grey water of river Indus with that of shining clear blue waters of Zanskar
River, a marvelous view indeed.

Zanskar and Indus River embracing each other

Every good thing has to come to an end and so did the roads which got replaced by
gravel filled paths and temporary wooden bridges. But still things were better than
before. Here we crossed a Hill named Namika-La where you can actually pinpoint the
line of separation between the two very distinct cultures of Kashmir limiting the
Buddhist arena with the colorful people and shrines to village called Lamayaru and
marking the beginning of Islamic culture at Mulbekh village full of mosques and
green colored flags. I tried my best to capture the raw beauty of nature in my
camera including an awesome sunset behind the mountains as we covered the 250
km long ride.

An awesome sunset
Namika-La

We reached Kargil at 11p.m., the path was messy and dark and to top it, we
witnessed some people carrying Ak47s in a small village not marked on the map.
(Quite scary isn’t it?)

At Kargil we had to face another problem, Aman is strictly vegetarian and the only
restaurant (dhaba) left open had one last plate of mutton and some rice to offer.
Aman had to settle with a bowl of rice and water while I relished the delicious
Kashmiri style mutton.

Day 9 : A ‘friendly’ day indeed.

I woke up early in the morning due to the churning sounds of hunger coming from
Aman’s stomach. After having some breakfast, I went to an ATM where I met an
army officer who shared his experiences of being posted at the Tiger hill as we
sipped tea made of yak milk at a roadside tea stall.

Aman left in hurry as he wanted to reach Srinagar well in time while I wanted to
enjoy the views to the fullest. As I reached the outskirts of the town my eyes went
wide at the view of a sign board saying “CAUTION- YOU ARE UNDER ENEMY
OBSERVATION” that means I was standing on the Line of Control (the LOC) at India-
Pakistan border! I took a picture of the board and gave a proud look to the enemy
post at the adjoining hill top.
Another board after around 60 km told me that I was passing through Drass which
holds a record of being the second coldest inhabited place in the whole world with
temperature going down to a freezing - 60°C. (Feeling the chills?)

Drass

On the way ahead I visited a place called Bheembhat, where Bheem, one of the
pandavas is supposed to be lying in form of a huge dark colored stone. Then there
was a pond named after the wife of pandavas “The Draupati kund” at the place
where she took her last breath. Now I came across Zuzula pass which was so difficult
to cross that the Chinese army couldn’t march beyond it in 1962 Indo-china war. At
Zuzula pass there was a landslide pulling an entire stretch of the track into the valley.
While the BRO people were blasting away a part of the mountain to make way, I met
Franco Venefro, a lone bike rider from Switzerland on world tour. We soon became
friends and decided to ride together. Sometimes bad things happens to pave a way
for better things as in this case the three hour wait gave me a friend for the lifetime.

Franco: the lone traveller

and his BMW tourer.

The journey ahead was full of beautiful green patches with occasional views of herds
of wild horses running around. We crossed Sonmarg while moving along the white
waters of Sindhu river and reached Srinagar by 9 p.m. After getting a hotel room, we
decided to pay a visit to Gulmarg the next day.

Day 10 : The nature’s saga.

Srinagar, also known as the Venice of east is located amidst a valley locked by the
mountains from all the directions with the river Jhelum passing through its center.

It was a curfew day in the city and the rules are quite strict over here. Somehow we
managed our way beyond the army barricades and started our journey into the lush
green mountain forests taking us to Gulmarg through snow filled roads.
 Gulmarg is a place lying in a devastated state due to the high no. of tourists that
come here and litter garbage (we, in India need to learn much more about sensible
tourism). We had to search for a place that was left untouched so that we could
enjoy the natural beauty of the place, and at last our search paid well as we found a
place without any signs of human interventions with a half frozen stream with snow
on one bank and a flower bed on the other. This was one of the most picturesque
place of the journey with some of the unseen and unheard varieties of white and red
spotted flowers on the blanket of lush green grass surrounded by thousands of oak
trees on the periphery .The shining snow, the lucid aroma the piercing oak leaves
and the music coming from the swiftly flowing water added to the purity and the
vividness of the arena.

One of many interesting

sign boards we came
across

.
 Heaven on Earth

Nature’s lap
After spending hours in the lap of nature we decided to move back to Srinagar. On
our way down the loops on the mountains came to an end and we had one of the
longest stretch of straight road with a downward slope in front of us, which was just
enough to activate the crazy part of me and there it was, the 14 km long ride with
the bike turned off and my hands off the handlebar. This was fun, a bit risky, but fun.

We took a stop after 20 km or so to have some Kahwa (a Kashmiri beverage made of

saffron, equivalent to Tea). Here we met Mr. Jamaal Ahmed, an influential guy in his
70s wearing a traditional robe called ‘Goucha‘, with whom we had an enlightening
discussion about the history of Kashmir, revealing some shocking facts. I didn’t know
that the state of Kashmir was sold by the East India Company to Maharaja Gulab
Singh at a price of 70 paisa per person! We had to give a premature end to the
discussion as we had to reach Srinagar before the curfew gets stricter. Yet again we
had to persuade the Army men to get permission to enter the city.

Day 11: The Twilight

Today I changed my favorite denims after 11 days as we gave a well deserved visit to
the beautiful Tulip garden and the vast Dal Lake which forms the major attractions in
the city filled with gardens and lakes. Indeed, a beautiful city with beautiful people.

The Tulips
 Dal Lake

We left the barricaded city at 11 am with a target of reaching Jammu before the
nightfall. The road from Srinagar to Jammu is NH-1B, a real smoothie boasting of
some of the best loops of northern India with proper banking making the ride
enjoyable. There is a small dhaba near Singpur, that offers the world’s best rajma
chawal with a mouthwatering anaar (pomegranate) chutney, the best lunch I had on
the whole trip ! I was eager to reach Qazikund, which connects Kashmir to the
Banihal region of Jammu via 2825 meters of sheer pleasure known as `The Jawahar
tunnel’ . Jawahar tunnel is a pair of dark and narrow concrete tubes with freezing air
filled with the fragrance of excitement. The best part, you speed up to 80kmph and
the tunnel takes over the controls of your machine. You cannot judge what lies
ahead till you reach the exit of the tunnel which creates an illusion of a portal
illuminated by magical light transponding you in some other dimension, all together
making it the most divine experience driven by pure adrenaline.
 “Portals “at the exit of Jawahar tunnel

Rejuvenated by the experience we throttled our way down to Udhampur and

managed to reach there just before sunset. One can experience a transition zone just
before Udhampur where the temperature increases suddenly and the cool breeze
gets replaced by dry warm winds (and you don’t actually like it after getting used to
enjoy the cold breeze). We reached Jammu by the night and didn’t feel the need of
making a stop, so we decided to continue our journey through the night as there
would be less traffic, moreover we didn’t wanted to face the sudden elevated
daytime temperatures after traveling through such low temperatures as that would
have certainly broken our bodies.

Day 12 : An end for a new beginning

We drove a nonstop 603 km from Jammu via Pathankot, Jalandhar, Ludhiana and
Ambala and reached back to Rohtak in the morning to provide some well earned rest
to my sweetheart (my bike) and to mark an end to what could surely be considered
as one of the toughest yet exciting journeys of all times.

While the solitude of the Morie plains and the beauty of Gulmarg still lingers in my
mind, the memories of the icicles en route Pang and the journey through Khardung-
La sends the chills down my spine.

I may have conquered some of the world’s toughest roads, survived in the worst
conditions in a forbidden season (and lived to tell the tale) but at the end, I feel a lot
tinier before sovereignty of Mother Nature. Now I respect her more than ever.

This small journey has taught me the value of existence and provided me with a
much illuminated insight of the longer journey we call life.

Yet again I am preparing for another venture into some other unknown territory,
learning from my earlier experiences and mistakes and paving way to make some
new ones!

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