High on the Himalayas

In the late nineties, the idea of riding from Delhi to Leh on a motorcycle was considered to be clinically insane. And for good reason too. One, there were hardly any roads – and whatever roads did exist were potent enough to rip suspensions off the motorcycles. Two, there was no support (medical, technical or any other) available on the treacherous route. And three, it was unheard of.

It’s 2013, roads are a bit better, police and army personnel camp out at major stopover points, and thanks to communication technology, help is not too far away (for most of the time). But even now the idea of riding up to Leh is considered insane. There’s downhill traffic (those trucks, I tell you!), roads washed away by rain, landslides, slush and wet tarmac because of melting snow, and a lot more.

But, despite all that, people have covered that route on motorcycles. From Delhi to Leh, and up to Khardung La, the highest motorable road in the world. Yes, it’s them Bulleteers, and their Himalayan Odyssey.

Himalayan Odyssey

In 1997, the first edition of the Himalayan Odyssey saw a handful of motorcyclists ride up from Delhi to Leh, and back to Delhi. The ride had been done before but this one, organised by Royal Enfield, which in itself is a bit of a cult, became one of the most coveted rides among all Royal Enfield loyalists. In this the tenth edition, I hopped on a Bullet and joined 99 other riders to experience the adventure first-hand.The ride, which sees hostile terrain and harsh, unpredictable weather all the time, required the riders to be physically fit – 50 push-ups had to be done and 5 km jogged. The riders also had to be properly geared up, with protective riding jackets, elbow and knee protection, spine protection, riding gloves, riding boots and helmets. The motorcycles, too, were scrutinised closely for anything that might be a problem on that terrain. Because although a support vehicle and a doctor were tagging along, it’s always better to be protected in the first place.

Riding out in style

The ride started for us in Delhi – the entire contingent of 100 riders was flagged off from India Gate. We felt like warriors being sent off on iron steeds, and I wouldn’t be wrong if I said we all had goose-bumps while riding out in formation.

This year, the riders were split into two routes, and our group of 50 headed towards Parwaanoo. While the ride on the first day was easy because of a smooth highway, we faced the real challenges from day two. On the way to Narkanda, we had to ride through some of the steepest mountain curves and face tourist and truck traffic. We also encountered patches of rough terrain which sent bone-jarring vibrations from the road to our bodies.

It was only when we started out from Narkanda to Manali that we got the true Odyssey experience. It was raining, so the roads were slippery and progress was slow. Fog reduced visibility. And if that wasn’t enough, we had to cross a mountain pass, Jalori. Wait, did I mention that there were patches of slush and we had to ride uphill through that? No. Well, yes.

Thankfully, we had a rest day in Manali because the next day we had to go over Rohtang Pass to reach Keylong. Although Keylong was a mere 130 km away, it took most of us nearly half a day to get there. The roads were in bad shape and tested our bikes’ endurance (by this time we had given up caring about our own endurance) and we had to move slowly uphill as the fog kept moving in and out. But what slowed us down big time was tourist traffic. From kilometres away we could see the loopy roads dotted with white cabs and SUVs.

Altitude blues

The day after we reached Keylong, we headed out to Sarchu, and by the time we climbed up Baralacha La (a mountain pass at 16,000 ft), some of us had headache and nausea because of lack of oxygen. Some engines too were struggling to breathe. And at a few places, we had to cross streams with frigid water. The ones, who accidentally dipped their boots in the icy water, know how painful it was.

The next day we set out for that part of the journey we had all been waiting for. We set out for Leh. Since it was the first time for most of us it didn’t matter if crossing Lachulung La gave us splitting headaches. It didn’t matter if out of 178 km only half had been properly tarred. It didn’t matter if we had to face tankers speeding downhill while we negotiated tight hairpin bends on Gata Loops.

Pure bliss

And the moment we entered More Plains we knew that all the trouble we had faced was worth it. The landscape was pure bliss. Wherever we looked, we saw vast plains, gigantic mountains capped with snow, and skies so blue it was surreal. iding over Tanglang La, at 17,500 ft, didn’t matter because we knew we were almost there. We climbed down from Tanglang La to Upashi, had tea and momos, and got ready for the last 50 km. On that stretch, some of us had tears in our eyes, some were simply at peace.

Over a span of 10 days and nearly 1,300 km, I rode over terrain that squeezed every bit of concentration and skill out of me. I learnt to respect the machine as much as the mountains. I understood that while on the road, I may ride alone, but there are others with a similar spirit and will be there for me if I need them. I understood why riding to Ladakh is the ultimate high.

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