leh 2010... hey guys,
Angelina was purchased because I adore Enfields and I desperately wanted a 500 in my garage. She was also bought because I wanted to scratch an itch I had for the last 11 odd years.
She went to Leh and came back from there - covering about 2700 kms in 11 days. this is my story. Why the **** am I here? What the hell am I trying to prove? What was I smoking when I decided to do this? Prologue:
I drove to Leh as a 23 year old, as an assistant director on my 1st half-hour long special episode to be aired on the BBC. I fell in love with the place, the drive, the people and the whole idea of travelling to the top of the world by road. I swore to myself, that I would come back on my bike – very soon. Many years passed, I went back many times, but always by air, and always on work.
Fast forward 11 years, and with an impending mid life crisis, I decide that enough was enough. I was going to Leh, on a motorcycle, in the middle of a full blown monsoon, in the month of July. To hell with the consequences. The beginning:
From an original plan that had 4 confirmed bikes and a couple of unconfirmed rides, it finally came down to 3 confirmed drop outs and an addition of 4 more rides of including my brother. From last minute purchases, to nth hour packing, it was finally decided that the 11th of July was to be D Day. At the ungodly hour of 3:30 am, we were supposed to meet up short of the ITO crossing in Delhi (for those of you who do not have the foggiest of what ITO means, it is where the income tax hounds hound you from i.e. Income Tax Office). This was necessitated by the perceived need to hit Manali on day 1 itself, no mean task considering it’s a mere 500+ odd kms from Delhi!
Come D day, with less than an hour of kip (the previous day was my parents anniversary and my brother in law’s birthday!) finding the most comfortable clothes I could for the long ride ahead, I start to load up Angelina; A beautiful, lovingly readied black 2006 model, 500 CC Royal Enfield bullet, who would be my alter ego for the next 11 days. Of course, by this time I have already been informed that the rest of the ‘crew’ (to use the hip term of course) was running about an hour behind schedule. They were struggling to figure out how to load all their crap on their bikes… that was the bottom line.
Speaking of ‘crew’, allow me to introduce the lot.
There was me, (I shall desist from doing the honors), riding up Angelina. (All ye of the perverted minds. Stop now.)
Then there was my little brother Jaiveer, (little being a relative term of course – he’s only 29!!) A freelance director / writer full time shammer, riding up a 350 Machismo.
Ashwin, a marketing executive who’s never ridden a bullet till 2 days before the trip, riding up a hired AVL 350.
There’s Digvijay, an MBA aspirant studying in the US of A, riding a Standard 500 and last but not the least, there’s the twins.
No really. Twins.
Nitin and Jitin.
Damn! Double Damn!
I couldn’t tell them apart…Not in the 1st two days.
Nitin’s a banker and Jitin works for a software company. They were riding together on a loaned Standard 350. Day 1
I arrive at the designated meet up point at 4:45 am, to find no one there! Phone calls to and fro reveal that Ashwin is stood at his ‘self decided’ designated meeting point, with no idea of how to get to the ‘group decided’ designated meeting point. Jaiveer and Digvijay are still on their way while the twins detour to collar the wayward Ashwin. Possibly an omen of things to come?
After a further 25 minutes, when we do all meet up, pretty much everyone throws stuff at Ashwin. Literally.
Not ‘at’ him, but ‘to’ him, since he’s only carrying one bag of clothes and his Ladakh carrier is deliciously empty. After everything is secured, wrapped, strapped down, bungeed and relatively stable, I lead everyone out finally at 6 am, after the mandatory, “start of trip snap”. The mood is bright, chirpy, excited and all gung ho. We make excellent time and brilliant progress….for all of 60 kms. Short of Panipat, I suddenly find a bike dropping out of sight with one more behind him. Concerned, I turn back to ride upto a perplexed looking Digvijay and a nonchalant Ashwin, ruminating over Digvijay’s dead as a dodo 500.
Changing the sparkplug, checking the battery, swapping out fuses, talking to it lovingly all have the same effect. Nada. Zilch. A big fat nothing. So we do the next best thing, eat Keema paranthas packed by the twins and wholemeal biscuits courtesy Ashwin!
A quick call to a trusty Sardar mechanic and I open the CB point cover, stick a screwdriver into its innards, tell Digvijay (Diggi) to turn her over and Voila – she roars to life!!!
We set off again but detour to look for a bullet mechanic since Jaiveer’s bike has decided to cough every once in a while and insist on switching herself off at the most inopportune moments. It is now 9:30 am and we are a mere 65 kms into our trip …
With the errant bikes all looked at and masses of spark plugs bought from the same mechanic, we finally do head out with the understanding, that we were going for gold and would now only stop for lunch. We stopped before that…for the rains.
Diggi and I were smart enough to get under cover of a petrol bunk, the others were idiots and got soaked. Heigh ho! With lunch dealt with, almost 9 hours already on the road and about 250 kms covered, we began to fade. And how!! Nothing can prepare you for the saddle sore of your 1st day of a long distance ride. Nothing. And I mean nothing can and ever will.
It came to the point that we were stopping every 15 minutes because someone couldn’t take the pain anymore.
It hurts to sit on the bike.
It hurts to get off the bike.
It hurts to curse the bike.
It just hurts like a really big pain in the butt. (funnily enough, that’s exactly what it was!)
Reaching the hills, Manali seems to be be a fast fading option, even for the perennial optimist in me. Mandi becomes the next best thing. Stopping for dinner, we calculate that Mandi is at best an hour and a half away, getting us there around 12:00 am.
Phone batteries recharged, bellies full and traffic that would beat Delhi rush hour hands down, we start towards Mandi. Jaiveer and Digvijay shoot off in front after many exhortations prior to riding that we must all ride together, since the hills are dicey at night. Then comes the next neat little surprise.
The twins blow their headlights. So between Ashwin and myself, we sandwich the crippled bike between us, as she ride down some very steep hillsides using our headlights. At 15 kms an hour.
After struggling in this fashion for almost an hour, we pull over to replace the bulb – and promptly break it even further. A phone call from Jaiveer asking us where we were, really sets me off and he gets the ear wagging of his life. Needless to say, they stop where they were and wait for us to get there. Meeting up, we decide to abandon Mandi and stop wherever we can find rooms. 15 odd kms later, I pull into a roadside motel (for lack of a better word), unload, park and crash for the next 5 odd hours. to be contd... |