I know, I know its long overdue. But I was waiting for the unabridged recount of the experiences we had, to be posted in my friend's blog. But the bugger is taking his own sweet time designing/crafting the blog that "finally", I have decided to write one on my own.

I don’t want to write the narrative of the whole itinerary followed, but let me showcase here the experiences that set it apart from my other trips. And this write up is not intended to eulogize my endeavour but instead it tries to pay a small tribute to the jawans, to the spirit of the solitary rider, to the affectionate tribes of the himalayas and well, to the Himalayas itself.

The MotorCycling Experience:

Imagine yourself riding along the vast expanse of Himalayas for miles and miles, with no living soul in sight and only a bottomless cliff to stare at. Imagine the elation that escapes your heart when you see the slightest movement of life in the farthest distance. Imagine that sinking feeling of joy and relief that somehow you got there, with nature failing in making you to surrender. Imagine yourself getting a new lease of life, everytime the engine purrs to life, throwing up the dust and snow.

I didn’t have any experience of long rides before this. Having it for the first time and again having it on a terrain so uninhibited and pure, made it special. It's sheer bliss when you careen your motorcycle along the narrow ridges, when you grasp for breath not because there's shortage of oxygen, but because the moment steals your breath away. The pain in taking care of the bike and the effort in steering it, is cathartic, a labour of love. The world I knew before became a distant memory and the world I saw ahead enveloped my past, present and future thoughts into a single feeling. At one moment, you wonder if there's anything stronger than these mountains, but then comes the realization that there's nothing stronger than human will. The human will that laid these roads by powdering the rocks to dust, the human will that ultimately conquered these mountains.

I met some crazy bikers during this journey and I was intrigued on hearing their stories. One tall fellow from Jaipur, who was on his second expedition alone to Himalayas, is a personification of Courage itself. He drove on the Baralacha pass(15000 feet) at 8:p.m when there was ice on the road. His bike skidded and he nearly escaped from falling to the abyss below when his bike struck a milestone or some stone on the side of the road. He shrugged off this experience as if it was a part of his everyday job. Then there was this German on an orange bullet, who is on his first trip to India, who has never rode a motorcycle before(!). He was riding alone from Gurgaon - Manali - Leh - SriNagar. Beast is what I would like to call him. And perhaps the craziest of the lot was "Crazy Jerry". We met this fellow in an Army Camp on the top of ChangLa pass(17000 feet). A short, dark guy from Chennai, his physical appearance demystifies the whole theory that physical ability alone is what's paramount in taking these trips. He said he was a "madbull" and that’s how the core members of "Madras Motorcycling club" are addressed as. This guy has rode alone all the way from Chennai to Jammu and then back down to Leh. He said he was going all the way down to KanyaKumari. He drove from Chennai to Jammu in 2 and 1/2 days with a riding streak of 18 hours in a single day!!. *GASP*

One special moment was when I drove on the border road from Kargil to SriNagar. There were signs on the road saying "You are under Enemy Observation". Even if its too clichéd to say, I felt patriotic. The army men retold their Kargil war conquests of capturing the tiger hill etc. I remembered the movie "Lakshya", when I rode past the Tiger Hill.

On a different note, watch the movie "MotorCycle Diaries".

The Humanity Experience:

If I had to choose one thing that constantly motivated me, it was the genuine pleasure of waving and giving a high-five to the kids in the villages on this mountain route. I felt like a hero, when these kids outstretched their hands to clap on mine as our motorcycles roared through their villages. ANother equally gratifying experience was to show the thumbs up to the bikers who overtook us or crossed past us. It is one of those few moments in life where the racial and linguistic borders are not accounted for.

I cannot forget the Gypsy lady who gave us shelter at Baralacha when we arrived there shivering from head to toe. The temperature was -(minus) 8 degrees there and our body was numb. I didn’t have any sensation when I kept my hands over the lit gas stove. She gave us some hot tea and gave us some kind of fat to wipe over our hands and legs to prevent it from becoming dead branches. The memories still linger fresh in me as if it happened yesterday. Then there was this family who ran the home stay at Spangmik which is the last village on the Indo-China Border. The hospitality we received, I don’t think I would receive it anywhere else. Such polite and innocent people!! We were given the best of comfort for a paltry sum of 150 bucks. I wonder if there's something rigged into this milieu so that people always remain peaceful and happy.

Throughout the ride, there were people who helped us. There were the truck drivers who comforted us saying there's nothing to worry, the Army Men who always deserve a special mention, then there were the wonderful Ladakhi people who are famed for their hospitality and are never deceitful. I was convined that Humanity, in its sum totality is always good.

It was not always so peaceful though. When we were riding in SriNagar, I was more afraid of the people there than nature. The situation was like, a grenade could land on top of our heads from anywhere, anytime. For every one km, army men were standing with AK-47 Rifles and Grenade pouches. What's traffic boxes here, are military barracks there. At every junction of the road was an armoured military barrack. One can only see the butt of the rifle protruding from a small hole through it. I felt sorry to see such a beautiful city and beautiful people scarred like this. Speaking of people, Oh Man!, Srinagar women are divinely.

The Unapologetic Roads:

Let me pay tribute to the BRO and HIMANK which are the two organizations who are responsible for constructing these roads on Himalayas. Many people lost their lives while laying them, due to calamities ranging from hailstorms to landslides etc. You could see tombstones in honour of them on these roads. I cant envisage the amount of difficulty these heroes must have gone through. Aayiram Kodi Thanks to them..The roads, though the BRO and HIMANK takes every care in reconstructing them year after year because after every snowfall the roads get damaged, OMG, still there were sections where driving on them was a horrifying and grueling experience.

The first deadly road that we came across was "Rohtang Pass". The word Rohtang means "pile of dead bodies", as the route is treacherous and infamous for sudden hailstorms occurring there. The view was spectacular but the road was muddy and there were huge potholes right in the middle of the road. I didn’t have any control of the bike. It kept on skidding and the only thing I tried to do was keeping it straight.

The next tiresome stretch was Darcha-Sarchu; riding on it, is god's own way of stress testing how shock proof our internal organs are. The roads were a disaster, it was gravel, rocks and sand. The stretch was 80 kms but it took us almost five hours to cover!! We were seriously pissed off and I was constantly afraid that my bike's tyres could burst open anytime. I enjoyed riding on Pang though. At Pang, there were huge plains at a height of 15k feet.

The most horrifying route that gets the cake is the zojila pass-Sonamarg road. This muddy road with a steep downward inclination encircled huge mountains. I was riding, err.. waddling should be a better word. As if this wasn’t enough, the road had a heavy oncoming traffic of army and petrol trucks, which it barely accommodated. I had a reasonable amount of difficulty from falling off the cliff. At the end of it, I was covered in sand from head to toe and I was in perfect camouflage with the surroundings.

Though it’s these gruesome roads that comes to my mind first, we definitely had the pleasure of riding on some of best roads, aptly complimented by the most striking sceneries. The best stretch was Sarchu to Leh via tanglangla pass. Boy, Was I really proud to be an indian to ride on this spectacular route! The first challenge was the 21 Gata loops. Iam writing this with a smile on my face, it was AWESOME. With a pillion rider it was slightly tough to control the bike, but after finishing it without taking a break, I got my first sense of accomplishment :) I was overcome by fatigue when I was riding through the Tanglang La pass(17k+ feet). Also this was our first long drive, we drove from 10:A.M to 9:P.M(Baralacha to Leh) with few short breaks in between.

And how can I refrain from boasting about the ride from Leh to Khardung La(18k+ feet), the highest motorable road. At first I was reluctant to take this ride as I was extremely fatigued. But Ranjan and Uday pushed me into it. You see, here it’s the altitude that determines your attitude. The temperature here drop to an astounding -40 degrees celsius during winter. There was an army base at the top and I thought they would come down during winter. I nearly fainted to hear them say that's not the case. They stay at the top, no matter what!!

The Grandeur of the Himalayas:

Well, Iam sure there are lot of paeans out there showering praise on its beauty and majesty. Unarguably, it is India's greatest gift to mankind. This sequestered heaven sweeps far and wide, the land and skies alike. I cannot describe it without getting philosophical about it. A journey on it, is a journey to the solitudes of one's heart, mind and body. Words definitely are not helping me here.

The Indian Army:

For our tomorrow, they give their today. JAI HIND.

Their commitment to safeguard our lives and to defend the honour of our nation gives me a sense of guilt which I find difficult to assuage. I feel so lowly when I compare myself with them. But iam equally proud about them.

Lake Pangong Tso/Spangmik:

Pictures speak a thousand words, they say. Trust me, these pics don’t speak, they sing.((D'Oh Crappy Dialogue)