Keylong to Sarchu

After a goodnight's sleep, I went down to fix my bike. Once again Martin's (by now he was officially my bike guru) wise words aided me in getting my bike to the mechanic. What would have happened had I not got the spare clutch plates at the nth minute??? Yes, I was told by the mechanic in Keylong that I could get them only in Leh. What an escape! After an hours job, I got my bike running fine again and headed straight to the petrol station to tankup since I wouldnt be able to find another one for the next 350kms.

After a snack and chai we left Keylong by noon. Martin was still undecided on where he was heading next, hence decided to ride along until Darcha, another high altitude pass. Two hours of non-stop riding led us to the nearest base camp for some carbohydrates.

On the restart, it started drizzling. Without wasting a minute we stopped to put on our rain gear over the riding jacket and pants. At high altitude riding wet would be absolutely a nightmare, with the chilly winds piercing the body. Thats when Martin decided to return. I thanked him for all the help and timely advice and parted ways not knowing when we would meet up next. I havent heard from him since then, but would cherish his friendship for a lifetime. From Darcha as I started to move along without a single vehicle in sight for more than a couple of hours, the rain was getting heavier. Water had already got into my boots while crossing a big stream (thanks to the damage caused to my boots in Rohtang)and it started taking its toll on me now. Although I stopped for a couple of minutes, rain and chilly conditions prevented photography of this wonderful paradise. Neither words nor pictures can do justice to the natural beauty.

As I started descending to my destination for the night, Sarchu, the rain stopped and I was fortunate enough to click a couple of pictures of his breathtaking land.

At around 6 pm I reached Sarchu base camp and unsurprisingly there wasnt a single other tourist there. An old man welcomed me with open arms and without asking a word just brought some hot water in a glass and bowl. I had no clue on the formalities. Without uttering a word I just gulped the hot water in a second before I was offered chai. Thats when he asked me to take off my shoes to soak my feet in warm water. He was a seasoned host, I reckoned. Wet feet could kill you in such extreme conditions. Although I couldnt see another soul in sight, I was happy to know that I was in safe hands that evening.

Did I mention that Sarchu is at 13,500 ft? Yes, I just had my first bout of Altitude Sickness. After warming up my feet, I was shown the tent where I could sleep. Although it could accommodate about 8 people, it was all for me now. Electricity was a problem though. My torch doubled up as a candle in there and I sank under 3 layers of quilt. Soon i realised that I could neither sleep, nor sit nor rest inspite of being tired. Went out for a walk hoping to feel better, but it was freezing, made worse by the desert winds.

Seeing me suffer, my host handed over a bottle of Old Monk for which he asked not a penny more than the MRP. I gladly shared it with him over dinner of hot rice and gobi
masala. I came to know that his family lived in a village in Spiti, while his son was sent to a school in Srinagar. They did not have any electricity or any basic infrastructure in their village, because of which his son visited them only in the summer. Was disgusting to think how dare our shameless politicians brag about 'India Shining'! Zipped up my sleeping bag and dozed off around 8.30, hoping to catch some sleep under those heavy quilts.