Trip Stats:
Progress: 175 km
Time: 07:22:23
Avg. Speed: 23.7 km/hr


Well, breakfast made it seem like it was going to be a great day...



What fun, I drop the bike again.

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2003-05-12 - Narkanda -> Recong Peo (Day 27)

Well, this was a memorable day to say the least. It started off at noon after a large breakfast in the gardens where my plan is to make a rather leisurely ride down to Sarahan which is about 65km from Narkanda which with the roads should be a 2-3 hour ride. The weather is sunny and beautiful and things stats out wonderfully. There are very few busses or trucks on this part of the road which is quite nice and I start down the road. Only about 45 minutes out of Narkanda I get my first surprise. From behind me I see a huge dark shadow beside the bike on the road and slowly getting bigger. The shadow appears to be a bird except for the size while is more then 4 meters across and getting bigger. Just as I see this shadow beside me, I also see a Tata truck rounding the bend directly in front of me. So I have the pleasure of choosing which disaster I want to pay attention to first, the shadow which is getting bigger and closer to the bike or this hunk of steel moving straight for me. Since I just can't comprehend what sort of Hitchcock type thing could cast a shadow that big, I focus on the truck in front of me and go to the side of the road to make sure he has room to pass. Just as he passes me, from my left side I'm also passed with a squawk by the biggest bird I have ever seen just off my shoulder. I feel the air from its wings as it passes over and I simply can't believe my eyes as it has a wingspan which has to be more then 4 meters. I blink a couple of times and stop the bike to watch as it fly's off into the ravine next to me. I'm a little shaken because it really seems he could have just picked me right off the bike and I wonder if that was the plan - a nice tasty morsel of traveler, raw for lunch. Amazed by the size of the bird, I press on.

The road is dropping down and I drop from 2800 meters down to 900m with the temperature going from about 17 degrees to more then 35 degrees (60->100 degrees F). I've dropped back down to desert scenery and have gone all the way down to the river I'd seen from the ridge over Baggi. Its really kind of a nice change to be back in the heat and the afternoon goes by with my following the Sutle river North-East. I stop at one point as my former boss Jon has pointed out the current head graphic is of the wrong bike so I pull over to get a new shot. I park the bike in the gravel beside the road but the gravel gives way when I sit for a photograph and the bike and I both go down. Whenever I've dropped a bike on the road before I've always dropped it to the left side so I've been putting the computer on the right side just in case I go down. Well of course when the bike and I go down today its on the right side giving me my first chance of the day to worry if the think-pad survived. Surprising myself I give a good grunt and lift the bike back up by myself which was the first time I've been able to do that. Basically I think it was the fear of what the leaking oil from the crankcase would mean in regards to my being stuck out here back in he heat if I didn't get it up which gave me the strength. Again, the mule seemed annoyed but no real damage.

I continue down the road and I'm on straight drop offs down to the river below. The road drops all the way down to river level then climbs back up to 1000 meters giving some cliff faces that I simply don't want to look down on. There is a great deal of construction going on along the river to build hydroelectric plants which unfortunate starts meaning the road is beat up with construction. As the afternoon wears on, the road gets worse with many patches of lose gravel on top of asphalt, the worst surface for a bike to be riding on and bumpy gravel sections. These tend to tire me out very quickly as they are very stressful requiring strength to keep the bike up and keep it from slipping in the sand. I start slowing down to 10km/hr or so whenever a vehicle passes me from fear the bike will slip.

I'm nearing the town of Jeoli where the turnoff for Sarahan is and I decide to stop for gas just to top off. I should have a bit more, but the Enfield's lack of a gas gage does have me on the cautious side. There is a line of cars and after waiting for 10 minutes and not one car has moved, I decide to go on to the next gas station, there should be plenty of gas anyway. As I go on, the road becomes all gravel and loose stones and I'm down to a single lane so my concentration is on the road. I'm going pretty slow now, but happy that the day is about done and just keep looking for the turnoff sign. The GPS unfortunately hasn't been much help since leaving Shimla as nothing about where I am on the maps is correct - the road is off, the town names are all wrong and its become an annoyance more then anything as I know what it's telling me is incorrect. I keep riding along and still don't see a sign but not wanting to go back through this horrible road, I press on. The road gets worse as it starts having more construction and I'm completely focused on the road. I keep saying to myself that I'll stop at the next coke shop to check for directions but the fun of it is, there isn't a Coke shop for the next hour. Nothing but desolate road , gravel and this ever present straight drop off to the river 1000 meters below

I finally come upon a little town just after the worst stretch of road where a new bridge was being built and the temporary road was all potholes and loose gravel which was horrible to try to get the Enfield through. I'm in the bus-stop town of Wangtu and a young man informs me that I'm in the middle of Jeoli and Recong Peo. He also lets me know there isn't another petrol station till Recong Peo and I can either go back the 17km I just came (+6 km to the hotel) or go on to Recong Peo which had been my planned stop for the next day. I buy a coke and some butter cookies and since I don't have any small change give the clerk a 500 rupee note (US$ 11.00) and he's unable to make change with 100 RP notes and has to give me this huge wad of 20 rupee notes as change. Its beginning to dawn on me how far in the backwaters I really am. I decide I'm not that tired and can make it a bit further as opposed to going back and the young man had also told me that there were some guest houses ahead if I got really tired.

I press on and the road continues to get worse and I can feel my muscles stiffening up as the cold and tiredness sets in. I continue to look for guest houses and stop to ask in the couple little villages that come on the way but I'm told there aren't any and I need to press on. The light is starting to go down now and the cold in the shadows is setting in. I do get some glimpses of those snow covered peaks at the end of the valley I'm in getting larger and larger. They are practically looming but somewhat hidden behind clouds. However, I know I'm getting closer and as I see the glaciers on top and the cold sets in, I'm wondering just how smart an idea going up to 4000 meters will be when the snowline is already so close.

I turn a corner to find the nightmare I've been waiting for right in front of me. A single lane road with two trucks passing each other. As I round the corner, they keep coming and its becoming clear they aren't going to drop back just because there is a motorcycle in the way. I go off the road into the side gravel but as I'm also braking as soon as I hit the loose gravel the bike goes down throwing me into the rocks. I guess as to be expected, neither truck stops and its left to a jeep which comes along a bit later to help me clean myself off and get the bike back up. I'm shaking from the fall and haven't a prayer of picking it up myself. The fall scraped me and the crash guards up a bit but nothing really major is damaged. Anyway, I know I've got to keep going as its getting ever colder.

There are fewer villages along the way, its getting dark and things are getting really desolate when I come upon my next little nightmare. There had been more and more little streams coming down the valley walls on both sides and I rounded another turn to find one of them rushing across the road. This section was also gravel and I couldn't tell how deep the water was as it was moving too fast to see the road. It was also quite wide. There was no choice but just to blow through , though if the bike slips in the water, I and all the equipment will be soaked. I plow through and get through to the other side, but the washout has soaked me up to the knees as I go through. The camera bag on the seat is still dry but I don't know if the saddle bags took on any water - of course that's where the computer is.

I know I'm becoming a danger to myself due to fatigue as I pass the 150 km mark. My goal for a good day of riding in India is about 100km and on roads like this far less. My muscles have all stiffened and I'm cold. Pressing on, I come to another stream which has washed out the road and again plow through without incident. Continuing on I'm crossing a wooden bridge when I stall the bike. I try to kick it while holding it up with no success. I'm in the middle of the bridge which is only one lane wide and I'm very afraid a truck will come along now and I'm sure they won't wait for me to get the bike started. I put it up on the center stand so I can get more of a kick and as I do, the center stand breaks through the boards of the bridge and the bike goes down again. Again with fear just from the consequences of not getting it up, I lift the bike back up move it forward to other boards and after a few minutes of trying get it started again. I'm seriously questioning my own strength and judgment at this point and come to a full stop off the road each time I see a vehicle approaching. At about 8:00pm I get to the gas station outside of Recong Peo and fill up. The attendant lifts my spirits a bit telling me the village is only 6km up the mountain. I climb up the 6km now back at 2300meters and drive through town looking for a place to stay. I only see a couple of really bad hotels and decide to press on to the Himachal Tourism Hotel which I assume will be as nice as the one I stayed at in Narkanda. Himachal Tourism seems to be the "Hyatt" of the area.

I drive out of town and keep going another 4-5 km when there isn't anything around me any more. Its completely dark now and there isn't even a person to ask for directions so I head back into town deciding to just take anyplace and stop. I stop at the only hotel I see and after waiting 10 minutes, the manager finally shows up. He takes me to see this dingy one room place without a shower or any amenities for 150 Rupees (US$ 3.00) I ask him how far the Himachal Tourism place is and he says not far, about 6km up another road and I decide not to torture myself with this place and to press on those last few km. As I leave I get the first drops of rain on my face which at this temperature feel like little knife cuts with each drop. I drive up out of town on this winding road with no lights and keep getting further and further from the town. The rain is coming heavy now and its very hard to see. I'm very worried about the camera bag and backpack which are up on the seats but don't want to stop simply because I'm afraid of setting the bike on its stand and having to try to restart it. I finally see the tourism sign after taking a couple of wrong turns and ending up on dead ends and drive up to a incomplete, deserted building. There is a tourism bus there but there are no lights, no people and the building is clearly under construction. I don't know what this means so I assume the last turn where the sign was must have been the wrong place and I go back down. This is much more hazardous then it seems as its gravel roads, now slick and muddy with rain and the rain is coming down so I can't see, in addition there isn't much in the way of light around me as it appears the power is out to the area.

I make it to the guest house at the bottom of the last turn and pull the bike under an awning a bit out of the rain. Unfortunately they are full and the harried manger has too much on his plate with other guests to deal with me so out I go into the rain again. I do ask where the Himachal Tourism Hotel is before leaving and he points back to where I just came and says up the hill. I'm working myself close to a panic as the bike is now stuck under the awning over a hump in the pavement that I can't seem to get the bike over. I'm blocked by a bus in front and another Enfield behind and there simply isn't enough room to maneuver and the rain continues to pour down. I'm forced to go into the hotel and get someone to move the other Enfield and then with more speed then I like, run the bike over the bump and out into the road just missing the bus. I turn and drive back up the gravel road passing the bus and going around a couple more corners into the darkness. I run out of road and there is nothing but buildings under construction but I'm certain that any more driving is far too risky and I resign myself to sleeping on the concrete floor, but it least its out of the rain. I have to talk talk my self through the steps of properly putting the bike up on the stand, and unpacking the backpack and camera bag, leaving the saddle bags for later. Fortunately I put the flashlight in a readily accessible place and have the stuff off the bike and under the eaves of the building pretty quick which is good as I'm really losing my sense of humor in the cold and wet and am only keeping calm by talking myself through once step at a time.

I go through the building which looks to be a new hotel under construction. The floors are concrete but many of the rooms don't have windows yet which makes them difficult to stay in as the wind is bitter cold. I wander into the back and hear voices and find a wooden door closed which I push in. It was lightly latched from the inside and I apparently break that in to my surprise as well as those inside. The room is dark and empty except for a single candle on a wooden table, a couple of cots around the table, a few pieces of clothing on the concrete walls and about 5 guys around the table talking. They of course stop talking to see who's breaking in to their place. I ask them where the hotel is and they point up the mountain and one who speaks English tells me its a 5-10 minute walk. I've heard "10 minute walk..." before and I think it must have shown on my face in a expression of total despair.

The one who spoke English, suggests that I sit down first as its still raining, which gets my complete thanks. I go outside to get the camera bag and two of the guys go with me helping me carry the bags in. It dawns on me just how tired I am when I keep stumbling on the way with the packs and can barely make it back up the few steps into the building. The guys take pity on me and build a fire and make a pot of chai (milk tea) before I can even ask, and I sit with head down trying to dry out and warm up. I learn the guys are the construction crew for the building we are in which is part of the hotel. The hotel is booked though and doesn't have any rooms they tell me but they say I'm welcome to stay with them. The guys are busy talking among themselves and for the most part ignore me as they start making dinner. The one speaking English tells me a little about themselves and makes a point of assuring me that I'm safe and they are nice guys which after my experiences in Fatipur Sikri I'm a little weary about but am thankful they are at least letting me dry out. Over the next hour they make dinner - a simple jappati (tortilla and bean) dinner with potatoes but very filling. I'm extremely conscious of the disparities in our economic situation. The guys all have 3-4 layers of rather tattered clothes on against the cold and the room only has the barest of necessities. The thought of how much more valuable I'd be to these guys dead then alive keeps me on the edge a bit knowing I have 3-4 years of one of their salaries on me in cash and more then 15 years of any one of their income in my camera case and saddle bags not to mention the motorcycle which is obvious wealth. I keep thinking that I've done something equivalent to walking into the slums of Atlantic City driving a Mercedes Benz and complaining that I'm cold and wet.

However, its clear that going back outside isn't the best option and I try to be as amiable a guest as possible. I politely decline whisky and marijuana (which this region is famous for and grows wild everywhere) and stick to the tea though I'm concerned about what will happen should they drink / smoke too much. As it turns out they were all very conservative and there was just pleasant conversation through dinner.

The one who spoke English was returning home to another city by the 4:00am bus so he was leaving his room at 3:00am. He said I could stay with him and could stay in his apartment as long as I wished as he would be home for the next couple of weeks. He tells me the apartment is costing him 800 rupees (US$ 17) per month in rent. We go back to his apartment and its very spartan with just the bed, a small desk and a couple of blankets. The is however a "Doors" movie poster as well as a Swartzenegger poster on the walls to liven things up. We split the bed and sleep fully clothed and with the coats on to keep out the cold.

Just to be on the safe side, I sleep very lightly and awaken when he gets up to go to the bus. Once he leaves, there is the benefit of being able to take his blanket and put it below me to give some padding to the wooden board which is the bed. The extra padding helps a lot and I lock the door and am able to get a good sleep. Before dropping off, I smile at this day and say that while I'm glad its over, it will at least make an interesting story.... well, at least I hope so.

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