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thephotowalla1 · 7 years ago

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I started to think of my first day of riding a motorcycle, rain had lashed the Himalayan valley throughout the night and I was scared to be completely alone in the world for the first time. The clouds sporadically sprinkled rain drops on me while I packed up the bike that morning. Thunderstorms had battered the mountains in the past days and I wondered if I was leaving on a wave of ambition rather than the calming thought of sensibility. It was the biggest decision of my life, to ride a motorcycle through a landscape so isolated that a moment alone here wondered if regret had ever really existed at all. I’ll never forget the moment when I kicked the bike over, gently eased it into first gear and rode off to a place where I wasn’t reliant on anything except the blurry line between my own truth and an ultimate destiny. I know now that to succumb to natures principles requires the humility of an unapologetic heart...

The sun peaked through the parting clouds as if the arms of comfort had engulfed me; I had found the person that I forgot to notice. I knew only one thing at that time, and that was everything from this point forward was based entirely on my decisions, my actions and my knowledge as a human being.

The morning was not too different than anything previous, a chia and a cigarette started the proceedings and with a little anxiety creeping in, a toilet break was definitely in order. I had packed my gear the night before, the new mode of travel meant that there was no particular time in which to be ready, no departure hour had infiltrated my thoughts, it was just me and my machine. A 1981 Royal Enfield motorcycle adorned my confidence, I didn't know it then but somehow she was going to become one of the truly great loves of my life.

A pair of old wooden doors lead out to the back garden, an extraordinary view welcomed my entry to the day as the Sun slightly bared its shine. My saddle bags were draped over my shoulder and I wondered where this day could possibly take me, what this decision in life could possibly show me. Then, it was just me, the world and a bike named Michelle.

The clouds had started to culminate into a darkness I was not prepared for, the water drizzled continuously throughout the early morning’s preparation, puddles already full from the days previous overflowed creating a less than ideal start. But for an instant, that thought was overshadowed by the immense beauty that inspired a conclusion that fear is only there to betray a foundation of faith in living the ultimate dream. I felt an overwhelming feeling of surrender come over me, here I was, a boy from a conservative blue collar town about to embark on the adventure of lifetime.

My mind was purely influenced by the quest for a liberation from restraint, unshackling a philosophy of contentment and a reliance on no other. My intelligence refused the invitation of a comfy room where the outside elements were forbidden to enter its tranquillity. I was packed and I was ready, ‘only God could stop me now’, I thought, negotiating the phrase several times to myself.

The condensation escapes my mouth with every breath, the high altitude keeps reminding me that life up here is at a much slower pace and it takes a couple of deep breaths before I kick over this splendid machine. The engine rolling over with its deep thumping sound fills me with anticipation, and sitting here any longer will only prolong the inevitable. The clutch is released, the engine beats its drum, the driveshaft crunches into gear and it all comes together as the romance of such a journey embellishes the moment. It is the beginning of another chapter in a life of living aimlessly.

Shouting words of exhilaration into this mountain expanse was now a regular feature of my vocal expression. The brisk air rushes in and around my helmet, the open face does not give any relief from the sprinkling rain that continuously perpetuates this moment of my entity. I look around at the mountain summits that rise sharply, disappearing suddenly into the dark and stormy clouds. It’s hard to concentrate, the beauty is unequal to anything I have ever witnessed.

It is a dry and desolate place where the earthly colours of the mountain ranges are only broken by the green cultivations of the valley floor and the glacial ice on the highest peaks mirror the bluest of skies. My fingers were numb as they gripped the handles of the 350 Bullet, venturing into the unknown was as pure as the crisp August air. Not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that this day would turn into a six month, twenty thousand kilometre odyssey that would take me to the untamed reaches of the Indian Himalaya to the coconut fringed beaches of the Sub-Continents south. That day has changed my understanding of the freedoms within. The ice covered peaks materialise momentarily as the clouds part for a few seconds and summon my eyes to look deep into their stunning grandeur. The immense beauty that surrounds me of unexplainable beauty taunts my happiness to lose control momentarily.

The Indus river flows beside me as I rumble along the tarmac, the rain over the last few days has brought a level of flooding that makes me temporally question my decision and just as suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds and eases my anxiety to a point where my smile returns undefeated. “Those clouds look ominous up there”, thinking out loud as I see my first high mountain pass on this four hundred and fifty two kilometre pilgrimage. The road is not much more than a single lane track as it winds its way through the valley floor. From valleys of green agriculture to rock covered gorges the road sees no boundaries and my bike, although ageing, seems to caresses every corner with ultimate ease.

Ascending the Taglang La, a five thousand metre mountain pass is the first real feeling of aloneness, the wind howls through the rock strewn landscape, occasionally drowning out that deep thumping sound of this machine which reverberates hypnotically in the air around. ‘It’s getting really cold up here?’ The thought pondered for a while, I questioned if it was the fear of conquering such a mountain pass or the reality of the weather that had masked my judgment, but an answer comes quickly enough. It started to snow, with the warmth of my jacket the snow melted, only to freeze again in a matter of seconds. ‘It was definitely getting cold!’ my teeth suddenly chattering as the words spill from my mouth. I could see the gap between the giant peaks, at five thousand three hundred metres above sea level I wasn't expecting any miracles but I was hoping for a little respite from the snow. It wasn't heavy and it wasn't accumulating so this was a good sign that the ground had still not frozen and my fearfulness dissipated very quickly.

Prayer flags adorn the mountain vista, rippling wildly in the wind, I wondered how it was possible I had only found this now. The Himalayas spectacularly rise all around me, the snow had eased enough for me to park the bike up and feel the presence of mother nature circling the boundaries of myself that have yet to be uncovered. Valleys retreat into the distance from both sides of the pass and I find myself lost in a moment of discovery, falling slowly like the snow flakes around me I ease myself into this moments truth. My eyes closed softly and my head tilted back I let my existence be swept away as if another universe had emerged. I gradually made my way to the bike, glancing constantly and the environment around me I reluctantly let the journey continue.

The sweeping road cuts into the side of the mountain faces as I descend in the valley below. My heart beats heavily as I emerge into a place so astonishing that my emotions are swept through my body like the ocean meeting the land. I feel I am in some sort of dream state, a sub conscience kingdom welcoming me like Knight returning from battle. I hear a roar of energy echo off the valley floor dragging me deeper into fearlessness, I reach out and grab the heavens. My conscience returns and an understanding is revealed, its all real, I’m not dreaming, this is our home and I feel alive.

It was getting late, my goal was still many hours away and I wasn't sure whether to stay in the makeshift tent where I was drinking chai or have a crack at getting to my desired destination. It was then an Indian rider pulled up and give me the news. “Where are you trying to get to?” he said with a startled look in his eyes. “Pang”, I replied with a little cause for concern. Pang is also a tent city some 50kms form where I am “You can’t get there, mudslide last night and the road is blocked!”. “Oh what the Fuck!”, was my initial response as the thoughts of what to do feverishly began tearing holes in my brain. I asked what he was doing and he suggested that I return to Leh as quickly as possible!

The chai was absorbed at break neck speed, the sun was shining her late afternoon light on the valley as I descended from the pass and with that came the knowledge of the approaching sunset. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, it had taken me six hours to get here and with only three hours of sunlight left my self imposed evacuation had to get underway immediately. By the time I had started to ascend the pass a dull light blanketed the mountainside, I knew that the retreating suns rays were all but consumed by the day.

Lost in as many thoughts as the mountain peaks around me, I had given up on the importance of concentration and I felt like I was floating in a dream. Crunch! It was the emptiness of the widening trench that gave my mind enough time to consider the options that were about to unfold, but not enough time to do anything about it. In the ensuing darkness I realised I couldn't see a bloody thing and the anxiety of trying to get back to the village of recommendation was fast becoming an overwhelming sensation. I was pushing more and more and then without a clue as to what I had cannoned into, I was airborne. I could only brace for the impact, willing the bike to fall softly like a feather drifting through the tranquil air. The end scenario was a far different story and by the time the dust settled had a bruised ego, broken chain and a luggage rack completely in bits.

The ideal place to break a bike was a long way away from where I was perched high on the dark side of the mountain. I found solace in the fact that the day could not be more unsympathetic to my cause and rather than contemplating in a zen like fashion, I freaked the fuck out and sweated balls for a good ten minutes. “Christ!”, I muttered to myself, ‘day one and I am already looking for my tool kit.’ Of course me being of outstanding intelligence packed the tools somewhere near the most inaccessible section on the bike. After virtually stripping the bike to get them, I found it. As I laid out the tool roll my eyes lit like a child in a lollie shop, I shouted to the gods “there you are, my savour!”.

I was regularly told from a friend of mine, always carry in your tool kit a spare spark plug, a few tools and a couple of exceptionally rolled joints. Why they have to be exceptional I wasn't sure at the time, but in that moment I understood those fine words of wisdom. Its when you see an exceptionally rolled number in a crisis then all the worries seem to disappear for a while. I lit the joint and drew back a long and tiresome breath, the stone hit me with a sudden wave of euphoria. Collapsing under the breathtaking scene my troubles had momentarily disappeared.

But eventually you need to come out of that delusional stupor and try and get back on the road. A couple of Indian men turned up in an old worn out jeep and give some advise, pointing fingers, giving orders. There were so many sets of hands grasping at things that I nearly passed out from the confusion. In the end I let them take care of it and prayed that their accomplishment be in my favour and I make it back to the journeys original departure point.

Twilight in the Himalayas is an extraordinary experience, by the time I made it back to the pass for the second time that day the sky had turned a deep orange, pink and purples splattered the evenings canvass as I was caught between the progressive motion of my motorcycle and this moments emotion thrown together by circumstance. The mountains lit up in a rainbow of colours with the hint of clouds still lingering in the distance. I was absolutely awestruck, again, I wasn't sure what to think anymore, seeing, feeling, experiencing all what I have had on this first day was a frightening sensation. “How am I going to deal with all this?”, was a very frequent question revolving in my head. But it was here, on this mountain pass I had started something special and still so very far from realising it.

A group of riders joined me on this spectacular afternoon, they were heading in the direction I had just come from. Formalities were exchanged and the conversation soon evolved into the present predicament. I told them about the story of the mudslide somewhere near Pang, I left them to deliberate their own scenario as I had a few more moments to lose my grip on reality once again.

I said my goodbyes and good-lucks, mounted my machine and headed back toward Leh. I was in a rhythm, concentrating on this evenings greatest excuse to ride like the wind. An over exaggeration I must say but at the time I felt like a surge of air holding tightly to this mountain road, cascading thoughts driven by its desire to combine an invincibility to the inevitability and all the while patrolling the outer edges of my boundaries spectrum.

By the time I reached the bottom of the valley, the riders I met on the Tanglang La had an undisputed ambition to get to Leh as fast as possible.They passed me before I could lift my eyes from the darkening road. The sunlight had all but disappeared into antiquity and with still many hours of riding ahead of me I decided to hold up in a small village that I had passed earlier in the day. The coolness in the air was substantial enough to abandon the thought of taking a cold shower and I unpacked my gear and collapsed onto my bed. Catching thoughts of an extremely tumultuous day my energy just seemed to disappear in an instant and with my eyes effectively closed, I knew I had to eat something before I drift off into another fantasy.

I walked through the corridors ducking in and out of rooms until I found the eating area. The electricity had been non existent for a while so the glow of candles were my only source of direction as I fumbled my way into the kitchen. ‘ Namaste’ I said softly, trying not to frighten the woman cooking over the gas fired stove. An older woman turned first, smiling as I asked about the possibility of food.

‘Namaste bhai, thali you want?’ The woman cooking replied and with very little time to draw breath I responded with a very hungry yes.

I wandered through to the eating area and come across the group of riders I had met on the Tanglang La only a few hours before. The initial surprise succumbed quickly to relief as I joined their discussion on the situation that had unfolded and we had found ourselves in.

The stillness of the night had already surrendered to the fast approaching storm, the lightning that flashed was a constant reminder that not everything goes to plan when riding through these unpredictable mountain valleys. But I was so drained that after the initial thoughts of the approaching storm were quickly overwhelmed by the tightening of my already starved stomach. The storm closed in, raindrops started pounding the straw covered ceiling and the feeling of a very long night had started to ease into my thoughts. By the time the food was finished and conversation done, a hardy weariness had gatecrashed our bodies and effectively ushered all of us to our awaiting beds.

The water rushed in, my saddle bags placed upon my mattress huddled around my body. The light bulb flickers anxiously above as the moisture from my breath is caught within the darkness that momentarily exists between the shimmering glow.

The overflow of the lashing Himalayan thunder storm had not only caught me by surprise, I could see through a small gap in the mud and stone wall where the Ladahki family were also huddled together on an elevated surface. Making sure my kit was relatively dry I made my way through the ankle deep water. The candle light paved my vision as I stumbled to see if the situation could get any worse. They told me to stay away from the water and off the floor, afraid of being struck by lightening I was hurried back to my sleeping quarters. I was puzzled by their reaction but the language barrier had me not questioning their motives and I quickly stammered back to by bed and tried to sleep off the brutal storm.

The day had started with a nervous smile, it radiated to the world that this is the day I abandon all the trepidation that I had bestowed on myself and accepted the moment of infinite probabilities. The ghosty saturation of the flickering light and rumbling echo around me had me staring into the nights mystic. A perception of how I see myself had penetrated my thoughts, from within a place that awakens the real truth of who I am. My mind wanders as my heavy eyes close, brushing away realities and replacing them with reverie.

It’s the hardest thing of all, trying to see yourself from the inside rather than the outside. It seems that every time I step out of the last place I laid my head I put on a mask, a kind of false realisation that I think other people expect. Like the smile on the outside and a sadness within or that seemly grumpy attitude for a moment in the day will be perceived and judged by some as a weakness rather than a truthfulness. So I needed to put myself away from yesterday and ask myself if I have really connected with the truest form of my inner being, today.

Riding alone on those days where nobody really knows where you are or who you are, just you and two wheels on some of the remotest, dangerous and exceptionally beautiful roads in the world and all you can do is talk with yourself, studying the reactions of the world outside, contemplating your deepest feelings because your whole world at that moment is on the finest of edges. You put yourself into another dimension, practicing every minute on your ability to communicate with yourself and the incredibleness around you. There are a million snapshots of life bombarding your brain at any one moment, not knowing if the next vision is going to kill you or going to save you. Then at the end of it all you make it, like another day in a perfectly normal life you only think of the bed that will lay your emotion filled body for at least this night. So as I pulled down the mosquito net on my bed that night and thought of the experience no one else has shared, I realised I am capable of doing almost anything that this life throws at me.

#himalayas #india #ladahk #leh #manali #motorcycle enfield #royalenfield #adventureriding #mountians #rivers #tanglangla #pang

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