It was a year ago to the day we cycled off from our flat in London and what a 12 months it’s been.  Babies have arrived, loved ones passed, new relationships and adventures begun, engagements made and in the midst of it all, we find ourselves deep in the Himalayas.  Whatever has come our way all our wheels have and always will, keep on turning. Life has become about the day to day, where the road will lead us and what waits beyond the horizon.

We couldn’t have wished for a better place to be as we cross the first major milestone on our adventure. The Himalayas have pushed our senses, bikes and bodies to their limit.  We’ve fought for breath on 4600m passes, been fumbling in the dirt to mend our bikes and are full to bursting with the overflowing beauty of this part of the world.

Rishikesh continued to heat up when we last left you.  Temperatures kept on the wrong side of 45 degrees so sleep and rest were sticky and tricky.  People watching was the aim of the day and if you find the right spot in India, there’s nothing better.  Monkeys, cows, motorbikes, white water rafters, Hindu bathers and western Yogic masters sharing the same vista can’t be topped! 

With the sun soaring scorchingly high on the banks of the Ganges we opted for a bus up to our first mountain stop of Shimla.  This town is the oldest and most famous British hill station and in the months of June through to August it becomes the cooling off destination of choice for the wealthy residents of Bombay and Delhi.  It was great to soak up some familiar architecture, alas the hotels were full and on the pricey side so it was a quick peddle through.

As we rolled into the foothills of our third Indian state, Himachal Pradesh – HP, you begin to appreciate the diversity of the Himalayas. HP is considered the fruit basket of India, most famous for their apple harvest, another relic of British occupation.  At first the slopes are on a lower gradient, green and lush with orchards and forests.  Though as you climb beyond the tree line a lunar landscape awaits; harsh, dusty, unforgiving but with a peace and starkness that steals your breath.

Being the Himalayas, climbs are our daily bread and butter.  Though with new challenges waiting on every turn there’s plenty to keep the cyclist distracted. Roads cut into the belly of gargantuan cliffs, icy streams slicing your path, landslides and flying rocks tumbling by and the focus and burn of keeping your legs going all have your senses on point.  As we’ve said before, cycling is a truly immersive way to travel, you become part of the landscape. Breathing, sweating, struggling and loving every peddle bought through your own steam.

We’re finding out the higher you go the bigger the landslide.  With rain coming about once a fortnight and the snow melt happening in earnest, road surfaces are kept bumpy to the extreme. Usually one can roll on through with a bit more leg power however our journey to the mountain village of Chittkul had a slide which meant a 30km 600m climb detour at the end of a long day.  We’re learning when enough is enough and it was with no hesitation that the bikes were thrown into the back of a jeep.

Chittkul was worth every penny for the man in the van.  As we’ve climbed back into the soul of the Himalayas and towards the Indian border Tibetan life, people and culture flows back into the veins of the land.  To join the views that cradle your eyes the sounds of this part of the world are the flowing rivers, spinning water mills and the wooden chimes on the village temples.  We perched ourselves on a precipice above Chittkul for two days to watch the rhythm and flow of the town at a distance.  It’s a privilege to be reminded through the acts of others, how simple life should be and how little we need.

From here we headed to Kalpa, a town perched on the top of a ravine famous for it’s temples and apples in equal measure.  A sample of the local apple wine got us into the spirit as we started to make friends with the caravan of travellers sharing our route.  This region is a well trodden path for intrepid backpackers and motorcyclists and the tummy rumble of a Royal Enfield is never far away.  It’s been a nice change to share the journey and time off with others, though always a treat to have the days in the saddle to ourselves.

The road on went from bad to ‘what-the-hell-is-that’ and for the first time this trip, we both got blisters on our bums! Fatigue and getting enough food has become our major challenge, but it’s truly all part of what we expected and crave.  Brian unfortunately too had the first twinge of his bad knee though between sharing weight and enough rest, we’ve soldiered on.

Each time we’ve moved it’s been hard to imagine how things could change so vastly in the 50+km to your next destination.  In true Himalayan style, we’ve learnt to put that thought to bed as each stop brings a new visual feast. Nako has to be one of the most charming towns we’ve stopped at to date.  A small town at 4200m, built around a man made lake, with stone buildings sprawled in, over and around each other. Narrow walkways a meter wide adorned with the carved tibetan religious stones, shared with donkeys and goats and attached courtyards full of braying cattle was an orgy of wonder.

Pushing up into the Spiti valley the landscape quite suddenly turns lunar.  Trees disappear and are replaced by boulders, valleys, dust and scree slopes the size of skyscrapers.  Bang on the lunar theme the oxygen too starts to diminish and taking on the hills becomes not only a challenge for the blister laden bottoms and burning calves but your lungs join the struggle too. 

Exercising for 7-8 hours per day paired with the effects of Acute Mountain Sickness has given another dimension to the trip. At around 4000m headaches comes out of nowhere and would rival the most debauched hangover and even walking up a slight incline has you gasping like your breathing through a straw.

From Nako we continued our journey through the Spiti Valley and as the glacial base widened we even got some peddling on the flat! Tabo Monastery was a mesmerising stop with the 1000 year old Buddhist murals gracing the walls of the darkenend temple.  Brian decided to stay back a day here to rest his knee and I took a side trip/hike to a mountain lake in Dhankar. It was full power bliss to sit in wonder as the surrounding mountains seemed to double through their reflection in the crystal clear waters.

Before rising again from the main Spiti road we re-stocked our larders in the regions capital, Kaza.  Fruit and veg is not so abundant in the Tibetan diet so we’ve learned to carry a salad bag with us wherever we go to keep the vitamins rolling in.  Kibber, one of the highest permanently inhabited villages in the world, was our next detour and the mist and snow rolled in to keep us there an extra day. 

The Spiti route over the Kunzum La pass is only open for a few months every year due to the height and consequent snow fall.  There’s daily discussion among the caravan of travellers as to when the pass will open and come the 22nd June, we were given the all clear. 

We’d assumed summiting the 4,600m pass would be the tough bit however as our guidebook had mentioned ‘horrendous’ roads for 150km, the peak was merely the icing on the very lumpy cake.  To call it a road seems a little rich and we were scrambling over boulders, pushing through pack ice the height of 2 storey buildings and generally taking our bikes to breaking point.  However, no matter how tough the going gets the scenery as always delivers with the surrounding peaks looking like they’d be plucked straight from James Camerons epic Avatar.

As is the way when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, my back tyre blew!  A week earlier our spare inner tube had broken so we fixed up said explosive badger with two patches.  Wonderfully, 100 metres on, it blew again, a stone piercing through exactly the same hole!!  We were down to our last patch, that we cut in half and botched on. It wasn’t to be 3rd time lucky, and as we were tucking into our climb on the second pass, the valve connection broke. As if by magic after an hour of walking and wading through icy meltwater on our path, we were rescued by a friendly jeep driver.  Along with the bikes we tumbled in the back for a very chilly and rough 3 hour journey to Manali.

It’s a bit of a shock to be in civilisation after a month in the wilderness, though it will be an essential few days rest and repair for bodies and bikes.  From here we take on the higher passes to Leh, for which we’ve heard snow blizzards await. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow will also be that we meet our friends Shruti and Becky for a 6 day break. Familiar faces and a few home comforts will be sure keep our legs rolling 🙂

As we pass into the next 12 months, however full our senses and wherever we may be we’re always thinking of those we love.  In the words of Willie Nelson, ‘you are always on our minds’. So here’s to the year ahead and whatever that may bring!

ONWARDS

T&B
xx