Desserts in the desert

At last, after we had our fill of dessert and petrol, we set out from Manali. With only one set of spare clothes in our bags (we can both wear all our clothes at once), a lightened library consisting of Arabian Nights, Joseph Campbell, Vipassana Meditation, and an herb book, the food stuff, mentioned previously, 2 5-litre gasolene cans and a toolbox. The toolbox has a spare chain, two tire levers and wrenches, spare cables, bulbs, spare plugs and points. Not everyone was carrying tools and certainly no Indians. They believe in the gods, mostly Ganesha for luck. Out bags covered in blue tarp and ourselves clad in blue mistry(mechanic) outfits, we left Manali after fresh bread arrived in the bakery. This only proved to be an annoying mistake. As we got out of Manali on the road to Rohtang Pass, there were innumberable shops renting old ski outfits and funky snow capes. We passed numberable cars at first and were glad to see them pull in at the outfit shops. In the 52 kms to Rohtang La, we ended up passing jeeps, cars, and trucks by the hundreds. When we came to the last mile of the climax of the pass, thinking still "one more truck and that will be it," we found ourselves upside down in a traffic jam. As the roads in Himachal are only one lane wide, one time as we were passing a stopped truck that we were stuck behind, we toppled over at barely moving speed. We had no injury and the bike was fine, except the headlamp's glass broke. Once we got up, with the help of the plenty of Sikh tourists looking like old-school pimps in their furry capes playing in the over-touristed snow, we continued to try to maneuouver around. It was unbelievable, there were more cars and jeeps and trucks at the top than we had passes along the way. WIth jeeps and cars of tourists and taxis parked on both sides, trucks and motorcycles trying to get through and many more cars and jeeps trying to turn around. At times, we just waited and walked around one at a time, neither seeing the entire clog at once. The passing wherever we could, we made it out after a few hours. The pass that we had crossed in September last year had completely changed, with walls of snow up to nine feet marking the road. The road was terrible with a massive amount of water on it. But being on a motorcycle, we got out before the cars and trucks could make it so we were alone on the raod. First day's driving was rough as we had to pass so many vehicles, then sit up at 4000 meters in exhaust fumes, then descend the pass half in rivers of melting snow, half in road. The scenery over the pass was immediately compelling though and got ever greater as we drove. We filled our tank and the two five-liter cans at the last gas station we would see until Leh. With 26 liters of petrol and all of us, the bike got heavy but pulled us through to the first night's camping place. alp!

We found an idyllic camping spot in Darcha, unloaded the bike, and ate tuna fish sandwiches with our morning bread. The full moon rose over the grand icy mountains and lit the big sky like daylight. The next morning we approached the second pass, Baralacha La, and it was an unnervingly snowy, puddly mess. After slipping a few times in the sloppy rivers of water on the road, we made it to the top and immediately wanted to come down. Our experience on these high passes reminds me of John Krakauer's explainations of how it feels to be on the tallest mountains of the world- when at the top, all you want to do is come down. Our feet were soaked from the splashing and the incessant bumps ached our bodies, so we arrived in Sarchu for lunch a bit discouraged. The lady who made our food vouched that the road onwards to Pang was better though and that gave the necessary impetus to continue. After climbing switchback roads galore, we made it to the top of Lachlung La, but not before it began to snow and became chillingly cold. The bike slipped on some black ice but we all bounced, nothing hurt, and gritted our teeth to make it over the top. We pulled into Pang, a tiny tent\food stop to see our American acquaintances Bobcat and Daisy waving their welcome to us. Instead of opting for a mattress in the back of one of the food tents, we rolled out our tomb of a tent above the army chechpoint and below a beautiful vista of ochre fairy-chimney-like outgrowths and snowy peaks. Unfortunately, it was was also the bathroom and beer bottle-smashing area of the tent colony and all its animals.
Day Three began with us in wary states of mind as to what surprises would await us on the final, and tallest, pass of the journey. We rode through a vast plain surrounded by glistening mountains and even stopped to meet a nomad woman and give her some water. Unexpectedly, the trip up to Tanglang La was markedly less treacherous than the lower three passes and we stopped for a moment to photo-document our conquering of the second-highest motorable pass in the world, at the breathless altitude of 5300 meters. Once descending, we encountered more marvellous scenery and a road paved enough to enjoy it, for once. Approximately 60 kms outside of Leh, there is a green valley hugged by the most miraculous dusky pink stone mountains and it truly must be seen to be believed. Closer to Leh, we began to see the famous gompas and monastaries for which Ladakh is renowned, as well as incongruous fileds of vivid green crops across the road from sand dunes. As with any true adventure, this epic ride was approaching not fun at times but is amazing to think back on in hindsight!
ingrid

I can now tell a bit about what I may have benefitted from Vipassana Meditation. Physically my posture has been better and no backache after 8-12 hour days on the bike. For the buttocks, when you don't react to your soreness, it is not so bad. The mental concentration one has to have on Indian roads! Mostly because of road conditions, not the drivers. Although we have practiced only a few hours of sitting meditation since the course, the road has been our meditation.
alp