sudhir222
Motoholic
Flashback: The spy who came in from the cold..
Oct 8, 2016
Darcha, H.P.
Tashi took a couple of cranks to wake from his deep slumber. Bagheera(Dilip's ride) is much younger and hence started much easily. That's score one for us on the how-to-be-positive-today card. With both the bikes idling together with a lot of affection, I sighed a breath of relief. It's cold, biting cold and the sky is still gloomy at 7 AM.
We had a couple of chai. No wardrobe change as we had slept with the riding gear on, except the shoes.
Brushing teeth seemed an insane proposition as the water was close to freezing point. Neither of us had got a deodorant. All this meant a real quick response time from the time we got up from the bed in the tin shed at 6.30 AM.
There was this metal bridge after the Darcha check post which made a noise of a thunderbolt whenever a vehicle moved upon it. It was our turn to say adieu to the kind father-daughter at the tin shed stay and roll the Katooms across the bridge.
With every passing kilometer the Cramster riding gloves shrieked at me - "I am the wrong guy at the wrong time and a very wrong place". By the time we had covered close to 20 kms, a little behind Patsio, my hands were badly frozen and were useless. The snow pellets had started showering since sometime back. Rest of the body was pretty cozy due to the multiple layers of thermals and clothes. This meant stopping every 500m or so, place the hands on the engine case for about a minute, let the hands regain some sense of life and flexibility and then ride on.
I was reminded of Bruce Willis's dialog from Die Hard - " This is a bad fcuking idea John". Everyone who spoke to us earlier had one common thing to say - "You guys have arrived too late in the season, can't be sure of anything".
How long did we have to endure this condition? Will we make it through? What if Baralacha La is snowed out? I almost lost my feet last year during the Parashar Lake ride owing to walking on the snow for 6 kms at night.
When one rides in the foothills of Himalayas, the riding experience doesn't count. He's a newbie every single time. The conditions force him to revise, improvise and sometimes hence, magnifies the best or worst in a person. Fortunately, for me, it was a simple resolution - we wont turn back. There's no going back.
Call it a stroke of luck, we found a truck mechanic's tent just before Patsio. Snow fall had increased its pace.
Parked the bikes and we scurried inside the tent to be welcomed by kerosene fumes and a low key fire lit up.
Removed the inner and outer gloves and it felt like a decade before the hands felt alive, holding them over the cinders. After a little chit chat with a truck driver and the mechanics inside, along with being witness to their wonderful abusive conversation amongst themselves, we decided to move on at 9.30 AM.
Was it a good idea? Not sure. Would we make it to Rumtse tonight? No clue!
But for now, all we knew was that the day's ride will go on. 'Nuf said.
Wishes..
Om Mani Padme Hum
Magnificent Tso Moriri
The Sarchu plains
Oct 8, 2016
Darcha, H.P.
Tashi took a couple of cranks to wake from his deep slumber. Bagheera(Dilip's ride) is much younger and hence started much easily. That's score one for us on the how-to-be-positive-today card. With both the bikes idling together with a lot of affection, I sighed a breath of relief. It's cold, biting cold and the sky is still gloomy at 7 AM.
We had a couple of chai. No wardrobe change as we had slept with the riding gear on, except the shoes.
Brushing teeth seemed an insane proposition as the water was close to freezing point. Neither of us had got a deodorant. All this meant a real quick response time from the time we got up from the bed in the tin shed at 6.30 AM.
There was this metal bridge after the Darcha check post which made a noise of a thunderbolt whenever a vehicle moved upon it. It was our turn to say adieu to the kind father-daughter at the tin shed stay and roll the Katooms across the bridge.
With every passing kilometer the Cramster riding gloves shrieked at me - "I am the wrong guy at the wrong time and a very wrong place". By the time we had covered close to 20 kms, a little behind Patsio, my hands were badly frozen and were useless. The snow pellets had started showering since sometime back. Rest of the body was pretty cozy due to the multiple layers of thermals and clothes. This meant stopping every 500m or so, place the hands on the engine case for about a minute, let the hands regain some sense of life and flexibility and then ride on.
I was reminded of Bruce Willis's dialog from Die Hard - " This is a bad fcuking idea John". Everyone who spoke to us earlier had one common thing to say - "You guys have arrived too late in the season, can't be sure of anything".
How long did we have to endure this condition? Will we make it through? What if Baralacha La is snowed out? I almost lost my feet last year during the Parashar Lake ride owing to walking on the snow for 6 kms at night.
When one rides in the foothills of Himalayas, the riding experience doesn't count. He's a newbie every single time. The conditions force him to revise, improvise and sometimes hence, magnifies the best or worst in a person. Fortunately, for me, it was a simple resolution - we wont turn back. There's no going back.
Call it a stroke of luck, we found a truck mechanic's tent just before Patsio. Snow fall had increased its pace.
Parked the bikes and we scurried inside the tent to be welcomed by kerosene fumes and a low key fire lit up.
Removed the inner and outer gloves and it felt like a decade before the hands felt alive, holding them over the cinders. After a little chit chat with a truck driver and the mechanics inside, along with being witness to their wonderful abusive conversation amongst themselves, we decided to move on at 9.30 AM.
Was it a good idea? Not sure. Would we make it to Rumtse tonight? No clue!
But for now, all we knew was that the day's ride will go on. 'Nuf said.
Wishes..
Om Mani Padme Hum
Magnificent Tso Moriri
The Sarchu plains
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