Himalayan odyssey of Team 456
A daily log of motorcycle enthusiasts who took off on an exhilarating ten-day roller coaster ride on the Manali-Leh road to traverse the highest motorable roads in the world
With the annual countrywide sales of automotive two-wheelers having risen from 430,000 in 1991-92 to 7 million in 2005-06 (79.19 percent of all automobile sales), the national passion for zippy bikes (scooters are passé) has spawned a new genre of easy riders on country roads and new multi-laned highways: holiday bikers. Increasingly representatives of the contemporary world’s youngest population are strapping up saddlebags and heading for cross-country destinations ranging from the freezing heights of the Himalayas to the golden beaches of the Indian Ocean.
Savvy mobike marketers who dominate the television air waves have been quick to cash in on this national passion and have vigorously promoted motorcycle clubs across the country. With trendy names such as Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, Bangalore; Inde Thumpers, Pune; Madras Bulls, Chennai; The Royal Beasts, Delhi, these riders’ clubs are attracting members like honey attracts bees. And to this list add another name: Team 456 — The Ultimate Biking Experience, Delhi. Team 456 is a non-profit association of motorcycle enthusiasts founded by software engineers and postgrad students K. Venugopal, Vinod Kumar, Parmesh Kumar and Sreejit R in 2003, and has over 50 riding members.Hitting the highways comes naturally to Team 456 riders, since it’s the club’s raison d’etre. Equipped with a can-do philosophical outlook and sturdy, powerful motorcycles fitted with puncture-resistant tyres, large capacity fuel tanks, saddlebags and designer seats, a four-member fraternity from Team 456 took off on a two-week trip from Delhi to Ladakh via Manali and return via Srinagar — a distance of 2,500 km — last summer. Given below is the motorcycle diary of this expedition as logged by Parmesh Kumar.
Every experienced biker knows that road trips without proper planning usually end in disaster and recrimination. The internet, books and magazines, and regular bikers are great sources of information relating to terrain, route, dangers and possible obstacles. Our bikes (two Hero Honda Ambitions, and one Honda Unicorn) are finely tuned and ready for the long road ahead.
July 13.
It’s imperative to get off to an early start to avoid city traffic in Delhi. Although the monsoon was in full cry and riding conditions were dangerous, we started out on time at 3.00 a.m, riding bunched together maintaining a moderate controllable speed of 40-50 km ph. Our luggage was packed in tarpaulin sheets to keep it dry. The four-lane National Highway-1 (NH-1) which links Delhi to Attari, the Indo-Pak border town near Amritsar, is pothole free and we reached Nalagarh (305 km) at 11:00 a.m after a 30-minute stop for breakfast in Chandigarh. From Nalagarh to Bilaspur, the starting point of the Himalayan foothills is another three-hour (100 km) ride and we made there in time for lunch at 2 p.m. We finally ended the day at Kullu at 11.00 p.m after another seven-hour (217 km) ride. By the end of the day having rode for 20 hours we halted for the night at Kullu, the base for most Himalayan skiing, trekking and mountaineering expedi-tions in Himachal Pradesh, and also the first sightseeing locale for our team. The night halt was in Aditya Guest House (Rs.200 per night).
J
uly 14. We awoke late the next day to sleep off the rigours of yesterday. We spent two and half hours exploring the quaint town of Kullu, taking in the verdant hills, fresh and dewy after the rain. Before setting off to Manali (40 km), at 11.45 a.m we paid our respects at the Raghunath temple, the main attraction of Kullu. Dedicated to Lord Ram, Raghunath temple was built by Raja Jagat Singh (1637-1672), erstwhile ruler of Kullu, in 1660. The 60-minute ride to Manali (pop. 4,500), named after the sage Manu, believed to be the creator of the human race, was smooth except for incessant rain. Our original plan was to lunch in Manali and proceed down the 475 km Manali-Leh road, halting at Sarchu (250 km) for the night. But the weather gods disposed. In Manali we were informed that a landslide at Marhi, 27 km beyond, had blocked the road and would take two-three days to clear.
Our plans dashed, we checked into a small hotel at Bangh (8 km beyond Manali) to save on accommodation costs. Hotel prices in Manali are nearly 50 percent higher than in smaller towns like Bangh, Gulaba etc. Manali’s most popular attraction is the Hadimba or Dhungiri temple, a four-storey wooden shrine constructed in 1553 in the middle of a thick pine forest. Surprisingly no idol is enshrined within, only a footprint of Hadimba on a stone is revered.
Next, we visited the hot sulphur springs of Vasisht, a small village across the river Beas, 5 km from Manali. Modern bathhouses with Turkish-style showers have hot water from the springs piped into them. It’s a rejuvenative experience. Two pyramidal stone temples dedicated to Vashist Muni and Lord Ram are also sited here. Next stop was Jagatsukh (6 km), with its Shikara style Shiva temple in one of the largest villages in Kullu district, with several colonial guesthouses set amid apple orchards.
J
uly 16. We woke early to check out the Manali-Leh road — the most challenging stretch of our journey. This is a 475 km broken and unpaved road criss-crossed by glacial streams, which rises into five high altitude passes before descending into silent valleys with no signs of permanent habitation. Proceeding to the point of the landslide, we saw a huge boulder 30 ft wide and 50 ft high bang in the middle of the road. It looked like a hill had suddenly sprung up on the road! Personnel of the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) and General Reserve Engineering Force (GREF) of the Indian Army were busy at work, trying to break up the boulder. Thanks to their determined efforts, the road was finally cleared about 7:30 p.m. Despite night having fallen, we raced up to Rohtang Pass (13,050 ft asl) to reach at 9:00 p.m.
Rohtang Pass (51 km from Manali) connects the Kullu valley with the Lahul & Spiti valleys. Open to motorists from June to September, Rohtang is a treacherous pass susceptible to sudden snowstorms and low visibility, which makes it a dangerous accident spot (Rohtang means ‘death knell’ in local parlance). We arrived in the silver glow of a full moon night. The arctic landscape was still, silent and surreal.
Passing through 10 ft high glacial walls of solid ice which bound the Rohtang Pass, we proceeded to Gramphu (13 km), a tiny hamlet. The constant rain, worsened by bone chilling winds had depressed us all. But then like a blessing, we came across a small teashop where a cheerful youth served us steaming tea and biscuits.
The rain and cold was beyond our expectations but thanks to our research, preparation and careful planning, we weren’t taken completely by surprise. After negotiating another set of hairpin bends over 10 km, we finally reached the town of Khoksar (10,300 ft), 23 km from Rohtang Pass at 10:45 p.m. Khoksar comprises a police checkpost where all vehicles and riders/ passengers bound for Leh have to register, a few dhabas, and a Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation (HPTDC) guest house equipped with a 35-bed dorm, clean toilets with running hot water and warm comfortable beds — excellent accommodation for Rs.50 per capita.
July 17.
We started from Khoksar at 7 a.m. Our destination was Sarchu at a distance of 160 km. We were warned to expect a bumpy ride over uneven, potholed, boulder strewn roads. The first roadblock at the 32 km milestone was a stretch of road inundated by a river where speedy, efficient BRO personnel were already at work. An hour later we were on our way to Tandi (10,200 ft), 35 km from Khoksar. We topped up our fuel tanks, as this is the sole petrol bunk on the Manali-Leh road. From Tandi, it is harsh, barren, windy terrain bounded by craggy grey mountains to Keylong (pop. 5,500) — the largest and last outpost on the Manali-Leh road (12 km).
We had anticipated a difficult passage from Keylong to Sarchu but the potholed, washed away in places road was murderous, allowing an average speed of 15-20 kph. Moreover as we moved from Himachal to the Ladakh region, Ajith started complaining of nausea and a blinding headache, symptoms of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) common at high altitudes (above 13,000 ft), due to reduced oxygen in the air. People with a history of breathlessness or asthma are advised not to undertake this journey. The only cure is gradual acclimatisation and intake of large quantities of fluids like water, juices, soups etc. Therefore there was a new urgency to reach Sarchu quickly to let him sleep off his AMS. Easier said than done. We had to negotiate four ‘water crossings’, which had stranded even a four-wheeler. Gingerly, we crossed the streams before noon, traversing Baralacha La (16,500 ft), the second and coldest mountain pass, 80 km from Keylong on the Leh-Manali Highway, at 4.00 p.m.
After a brief lunch-cum-tea stop of hot parathas and steaming tea at Bharatpur, a small temporary settlement with about a dozen tented hotels which open shop during the touristy summer months, refreshed and energised, we plowed on towards Sarchu (25 km), much against the advice of local wiseacres.
On the doorstep to Sarchu we had to negotiate 3 ft deep swirling waters flowing across the road around 7:30 p.m. We found accommodation in a tented hotel at an unbelievably low price of Rs.50 per head, where we took a welcome and comfortable break after the day’s adventures of negotiating potholes, water crossings and combating AMS. We promptly fell into dreamless sleep, even as strong, numbing winds blew across the valley.
July 18.
At 9.00 a.m Ajith was feeling much better. After a quick breakfast and tea, we packed our lunch boxes and left for Sarchu at 11 a.m. Sarchu is a border town between Himachal Pradesh and Jammu & Kashmir. The border closes at 4 p.m daily, so all visitors entering J&K have to complete paperwork in a police checkpost across the border before that. The local police is courteous and cooperative and advised us to pack garlic cloves to ward off AMS.Our route was Sarchu to Gatta Loops — a stretch of 13 km on which we had to negotiate 21 hairpin bends while ascending from 13,776 ft to 15,302 ft. The dizzy ascent culminated at Nakii La (16,416 ft). A steep uphill ride (19 km) took us to Lachlung La (16,616 ft), the fourth pass on our journey. At both passes with the clouds floating around and below we felt we were in heaven! The landscape here is out of this world. It is beyond description; it has to be experienced.
A relatively short ride of 25 km through wind-eroded mountain terrain brought us to Pang (15,200 ft) at 2.00 p.m. Pang and Sarchu are two stopovers between Keylong and Leh where food and accommodation is available. The rest of the area is stark and barren, devoid of habitation.
The next leg of 96 km to Rumtse via Tanglang La required us to cross the Moray Plains plateau which is surprisingly smooth and tarred. The road is flanked by rolling snow-capped Himalayan peaks, with no sign of civilization or intervening streams or rivers to break the monotony of the mountains. The scenery is spellbinding and even at this altitude (15,400 ft), we came across patches of green where we sighted some rare avian species. The sign ‘Tanglang La — 38 km ahead’ renewed our energy levels and we began the steep climb towards this high altitude destination.
The road leading to Tanglang La at 17,852 ft is the second highest in the world. The pass is marked by a small temple with an unusual sign: "shoes are permitted inside" — unheard of in India! A few windowless military huts where tea, water and first aid are provided to travellers are also to be found here. We are elated because getting to Tanglang La is a test of stamina and endurance for man and machine. Our bikes were groaning and the chains creaked as we moved skyward arguing that larger engine capacity bikes would have been better for this arduous trek. But fortunately our bikes had negotiated this testing route without failing.
Vinod suffered a small mishap at Tanglang La when his bike parked on smooth ice slipped and fell, as he tried to take it off the stand. The fall caused some damage to the chain case. We fixed the problem temporarily and managed to ride it down to the army transit camp at Rumtse (27 km), where the ever-helpful engineers of the Indian Army not only fixed the bike but also laid on tea and biscuits.A word of appreciation for the Indian army is in order. Undoubtedly without the help of the army, the paramilitary forces and BRO, the ride from Manali to Leh would have been impossible. Their continuous work to make this terrain accessible, is highly under-rated and unappreciated. Throughout, the 475 km stretch is strewn with memorial stones and graves of army/ BRO personnel who have sacrificed their lives while trying to build and maintain the Manali-Leh route.
Thanking the army personnel for their hospitality we started towards Leh at 7.30 p.m via Upshi (11,500 ft, 25 km), where we had the first glimpse of the mighty river Indus. We reached Leh (49 km from Upshi) at 11:00 p.m, were relieved to find a guesthouse, and gratefully hit the hay.
July 19. From Leh (pop. 15,000) one has to obtain an inner line permit from the local district commissioner’s office to visit the Nubra valley and Pangong lake. Our vehicles were also due for a thorough fitness check, hence we decided to take a day’s break so that our bodies and bikes could recuperate.
Leh is the largest city of Ladakh district at an altitude of 11,500 ft. It is a strategic centre of the Indian Army which has a major presence here, as it is close to the sensitive Indo-China-Pak border. We visited the Leh palace — erstwhile home of the Ladakh royals; the 16th century Victory fort atop Namgyal hill, built to commemorate the victory of the Ladakh army over Balti-Kashmir armies and Namgyal Tsemo Gompa which enshrines a striking three-storey-high Buddha image, ancient manuscripts and frescoes.
July 20.
This was the first wasted day of our tour because of bureaucratic red-tape so typical of the Indian establishment. To give us a small piece of paper the clerks in the district commissioner’s office took all day. This delayed our journey by another day forcing us to abandon our onward plans which included a visit to the world’s largest brackish water lake, Pangong Tso, and Chang La, the world’s third highest motorable road. While awaiting our travel permit, we visited the Hall of Fame — a museum showcasing Ladakh’s culture and military history, established to mark the victory of the Indian Army over a Pakistani intrusion in 1999. The evening was spent loitering in Moti Market and the Tibetan Market where myriad wares ranging from silver jewellery to VCD players, cameras and woollen sweaters are hawked. The legions of foreigners in the region made us wonder whether we were in India at all, but the filth and squalor promptly dispelled that illusion.
July 21.
The most memorable day of our tour. We drove into the imposing Khardung La Pass (18,380 ft), the highest motorable road in the world. A steep ascent of only 39 km from Leh to Khardung La took over two hours, because it’s all uphill. The road to Khardung La is critical for the Indian Army and hence they maintain it very well. Every Monday it is closed for maintenance, when even the minutest pothole is filled up.Getting to Khardung La was the culmination of our odyssey. As we parked our bikes next to the board welcoming us, there was an immense feeling of peace and camaraderie. Against the backdrop of the Himalayas, it was an incredible moment of triumph and emotion.
Khardung La has several ‘highest points’ to its credit: the world’s highest wireless station, canteen, military souvenir shop, temple among others. And one can gaze endlessly at nature’s majesty — the eerie beauty of the snow-laden mountains.
July 22.
Our return journey from Leh to Delhi via the Kashmir Valley began today. Fotu La (13,479ft) is the highest point on the Srinagar-Leh road. En route we visited Gurudwara Pathar Sahib (30 km from Leh), built in memory of Guru Nanak’s visit to Ladakh and Magnetic Hill (55 km from Leh), where one can witness a natural gravity-defying phenomenon. Vehicles move uphill due to the natural magnetic field acting on them. We stopped for lunch and explored Mulbek, a historical town which houses one of the five Bamiyan Buddhas of Ladakh. This 30 ft tall Buddha carved across a vertical rock-face standing independently amidst towering Himalayan peaks, was sculpted in the first century BC. The next stop was Kargil, theatre of the Kargil war of 1999. We spent the night at Drass (60 km from Kargil), the second coldest permanently inhabited place on earth, with temperatures dropping to as low as -650 C during winter.
July 23.
After Drass we rode another 120 km via Zoji la (11,500 ft) to arrive at Sonamarg and rode another 85 km to reach Srinagar, capital of Jammu & Kashmir (pop. 10 million) at 9.00 p.m. We spent two days in Srinagar soaking in the beauty of its vast gardens, and taking Shikara rides on the green waters of the Dal lake. July 24.
The final leg of our journey was to Jammu, 295 km from Srinagar via the popular hill stations of Patni top, Banihal and Kud. Not wanting to stop at Jammu we proceeded to Pathankot for the night halt. From Pathankot it was a day’s ride (513 km) over the flat and smooth four-lane national highway all the way to Delhi via, Amritsar, Ludhiana, Ambala and Panipat.
The ten-day expedition had been an exhilarating roller-coaster ride, which had rendered us physically exhausted but mentally refreshed. We had spent Rs.6,750 for 150 litres of fuel totally (50 ltrs per bike) and Rs.10,450 for food and accommodation. I’d say it was an experience worth every rupee. From the viewpoint of accomplishment, our objective — to ride the highest motorable roads in the world — was achieved. Looking back all of us are unanimous: if we can make the time, we’d do it again.