Sarchu to Leh

With another 270 km to cover, I get up early in the morning at around 5am, feeling a bit better from the Altitude Sickness that had hit me the previous evening. To my surprise, my host was up even earlier and greeted me with a hot cup of chai. He advised me to leave early in order to reach Leh by late evening. Packed myself once again and soon realised that my boot was still wet; with no other option geared up to leave Sarch at about 7 am. While leaving I was subjected to the surprise of my life. Any guesses on how much I was charged for the stay, hot water and genuine hospitality? FIFTY RUPEES!! I handed over 200 bucks to my friend and bid goodbye.

From the moment I started my bike, the excitement was building; couldnt believe that I was going to reach Leh. I get goosebumps even now when I think about the moment.

In less than an hour I encountered the first high altitude pass- Nakila which was at a height of 15600ft. I had move inch by inch due to the nature and terrain of the path. Frankly speaking I even wanted to give up at times due to the physical and mental starin. Each time I kept reminding myself of how I managed to ride all the way from South India all by myself until this point. Wouldnt I kill myself if I gave up now, just 200 odd kilometers away? Ti keep myself motivated, I remembered seeing the bicyclists in Keylong, who endured much harsher physical strain.

Just as I crossed one, there was the second high altitude pass LaChung La which was at a mind blowing 16500 ft above sea level. This was the highest road I had ever rode on in my life until then. But again along with the height came the hardships. It was pretty much uneventful until I stopped at Pang for some chai and fuel.

To my surprise I found a lot of vehicles in there, most of them returning from Leh to Manali. There was a group of 4 German bikers who were returning to Manali from Leh and shared their table with me as soon as I reach Pang. Although I was half their size with a less loaded bike, we were all on the same page when it came to riding. One of them was short on engine oil, was therefore a bit worried. Since I had emptied my spare oil in Keylong I couldnt help him. My fall sometime back which had robbed me of some fuel made me buy extra petrol here, sold in plastic cans for Rs.100/litre. I had no choice but to go for it. Wishing each other goodbye, we went in the opposite direction with me headed towards Leh.

Each momemt I thought I couldnt be surprised further, I would run into a bigger shock. Within no time I ran into Morey Plains- the notorious 40 km flat land amidst the cold desert. Not a single soul in my sight I was suddenly engulfed by monstrous mountain ranges all around. I was now riding on a flat desert with no pathway and the sun playing hide and seek. I had absolutely no clue where I was heading and even used the horn for the first time, knowing that no one was around to even respond to the noise. I kept shouting out loud, standing up, sitting downn, stretching my legs, all while riding. Even if I had ran naked around, there wasnt even a bird or dog to laugh at me. Another half an hour of riding gave me a sudden sighting of dust flying ahead. Although it looked pretty near, it took me another 10 mins to spot the tracks. yes a truck was going ahead and I gladly followed the trail left on the sand, but managed to reach the truck only a little later. With common sense prevailing I decided just to follow it, rather than overtaking it.

Soon I was out of Morey Plains and crossed a little hamlet Debring, preparing to encounter the hardest test so far- Tanglang La. The climb to this high altitude pass was back breaking. I could feel ever single piece of my body taking the beating. BUt then the moment I reached Tanglang La, everything was forgotten in a jiffy. Its the second highest motorable road in the world (debatable), standing at an altitude of 17,582 ft. Heartily clicked a few pictures on celebrating the milestone and rode downhill quickly, since it isnt advisable to spend a lot of time at high altitudes.

Here is when I had my first fall. Until then I was riding at a maximum speed of 8-10km/hr in first gear. Suddenly there was a fine stretch of new tarmac for a couple of kms, which got me excited. As I revved my bike to 60km/hr, I was unfortunate to encounter loose rocks in a turn. If I braked, I would have fallen some thousands of feet below on the left. I therefore flew to the right, with the bags just flying above my head, while my bike skid towards the left. Another couple of meters towards the left, I would have lost it. Knowing it was lying safe, I just lay there on the road for sometime, trying to get some oxygen and rest. After about 10 minutes an Army truck came by to my aid, lifting me and my bike up. Since I was geared properly, I escaped injuries, while causing abrasion to my rain gear and boots. My bull as usual withstood all tantrums, while only leaking a few litres of petrol. Fortunately I had topped up my tank earlier in the day in Pang.

This fall prepared me for the worse and after another stretch of horrendous roads (read as no roads, only boulders), I finally got a glimpse of Leh in Upshi. In between there were a few exciting river crossings from the mighty Indus and a couple of small villages. Before the day light faded, precisely at 5:40 pm I reached the city of Leh. I was grinning to myself and wanted  to call close friends to share the joy which was sky high by now.

As usual I hadnt booked any hotel, so spent half an hour searching for good place to stay. Having encountered the journey of my life, I wanted to treat myself to a good hot shower (hadnt showered since I left Manali) and a little luxury. Checked into Oriental Guesthouse, which sat at the foot of Shanti Stupa, a couple of kilometres away from the market. It was pure bliss to get rid of my riding gear and dirty clothes to just meditate under the hot shower for an hour. I had done it!

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.