Bharat Parikrama

December 2005, January, February & March 2006

"Road Trip. The start and finish of the FIRST and FASTEST documented circumnavigation of India on motorcycles. Kudos DInesh, Navroze, Bari, Joe, Bopanna and everybody involved!" Text : Navroze Contractor

Three men : Three bikers and one mission – to circumnavigate India by road. This never before achieved two-whether feat was taken up by motorcycle enthusiast Dinesh Reddy, Navroze Contractor and Bari Kumar. The bikes they made were two KLE 500CC urban of-roaders and a 100CC Indian machine. “What’s special about this trip is that not only is this the first time someone’s done it. It’s also the first completely documented circumnavigation of the country. Also this is the fastest. They did it in 57 days. “ Say Neeraj Chinnappa. The idea first originated with Dinesh Reddy. A super bike collector and idea follower of MotoGP. “We’ve been doing short 500 and 1, 000 Km rides. I wanted to do something different, “says Dinesh. Thereafter, it was divine intervention as things started falling in place for him. Discussing his intention with Navroze, they struck on the plan to do that 15, 200 Km trip. “Navroze is a veteran of many such expeditions and has successfully completed road trips in Vietnam, United States and Europe. He got down to chalking out the route we’d take. It wouldn’t have been possible without him. “says Dinesh. Then Bari happened. He’s a childhood friend of mine. Bari is a professional artiste and an Emmy Award recipient. I casually mentioned it to him and he jumped at the idea, “recalls Dinesh. Their planning took over eight months. And once again providence presented them with Mumbai-based photographer Amit, who happened to be in Bangalore for a motorbike shoot. It was his efforts that resulted in the extensive documentation. “We had to plan everything. Complete breakdown of bikes, camping gear and a whole lot of spares. We had Joe and other camera crew traveling with us in two jeeps. But for a collective mileage of 48, 600 Km for all three bikes, the only problem we had were two punctures, “he says. On the ride they had several people coming forward to help them out. “We really felt the warmth of the country on his trip. India is so different. It changes every short distance and yet there was this prevalent warmth, “says Amit. On the tough moments during the ride, Dinesh says, “Some terrains were rather difficult, with temperature ranging from 40 degrees to minus 16 degrees. And then of course the sore and of being 57 days in a saddle. But that’s what it’s all about.”

December, January, February & March 2005

"INDIA ON EDGE" Text : Navroze Contractor

WANDERLUST! ADVENTURE SPECIAL This is the road between Leh and Kargil in the solitary splendour of the Himalayan foothills. Barren, cold, stark and with a beauty which borders on the extreme, this is but one small section of the vast canvas that the interpdi trupo of Dinesh Reddy, Bari Kumar and our baery own Navroze Contractor traversed enroute their epic 57 day, 16, 200, Km circumnavigation of the nation. Bharat Parikrama, as the project was termed, was an absolute success, the eclectic bunch using guts, grit, determination, skill, skullduggery, luck, fortitude (they encountered rain for just 15 minutes in the 57 days when on the job while many other parts of the land were being lashed by the rain gods), two Kawasaki KLE 500s AND ONE Bajaj Pulsar 180 DTSi to do what no else had done before. “This was not just the best way to circumnavigate our big land but also to ‘feel’ it in its entirety and its diversity,” mentioned 61-year young Navroze who planned the entire project (two years in the planning) and decided to do it the right way by using tow wheels made in India. “The Pulsar was ultra reliable barring headlights fusing three to four times, the chain and rear sprocket having to be replaced twice and the non-availability of 17 – inch MRFs enroute causeing us to be most minful. Engine, transmission, chassis, suspension and brakes took the rigours admirable but Bajaj Auto would do well to junk the wiring loom and get something really good for this bike,” stated a relieved but exhausted Navroze at the end of the 57-day affair. Bari Kumar is 39 years of age and is an Emmy-winning animator in Hollywood by profession. Biking is as deeply ingrained in his psyche as is his chosen craft and even though he did have his moments, he plugged along on the big Kwacker to make his dream come true. “Best way to see the rest Indian is by bike, and the ride turned this fantasy of mine into reality, was What he had to say at the finish. For biker, industrialist and philanthropist Dinesh Reddy, Bharat Parikrama was the culmination of a dream he thought would never materialize. “I get to do what many dream about but which not all can execute,” said the 40 –year old director of Nutrine Industries. “When Navroze came up was talking in the air. However, his persistence and seriousness meant that I had to be part of such an adventure. In hindsight, I can only say that I was lucky we got to do this. Friends, on bikes, taking the roads unexplored, that’s what motorcycling is all about.” Full reportage of this epic adventure will appear in the next tow issues of BIKE INDIA beginning January 2006. It was as early as 2001 that I started toying with the idea of making a unique motorcycle journey through India. So far I had traveled many tiems from city to city but just this once I wanted to make a journey that would be extraordinary. The idea of circumnavigating India on a bike like a Parikrama of a temple, a lake, or a mountain fascinated me. I wanted to do a Parikrama of India. I put it up as a proposal to my editor Adil in 200I. He agreed right away but on the condition hat I did not do it alone. Since then, my sear began for a riding partner and a sponsor. Almost a year ago my friend and an excellent rider Dinesh Reddy invited me for a Sunday ride with his buddies, better known as 'The Red Roosters'. All of them were armed with over 900CC super sports machines, while I was on my Honda VFR400RR. At breakfast Dinesh and I had a brief moment together when he asked me what I was up to these days. I told him about my dream of circumnavigating India on a motorcycle. I didn't think he even took notice of what I was saying as the rest of the day was spent riding those super sports machines at warped speeds. A few days later Dinesh called up and asked me how far along I was with my plan. I was surprised, to say the least. The same afternoon we met and he told me that he would like to come along and that he would sponsor the whole event. From then onthere was no looking back. I spoke to Adil that I had found a perfect riding companion plus a sponsor. and he literally fell off his chair. He exclaimed, "It can't be true!" Our planning began by sitting together and drawing a line over the map of India touching all the borders. We wanted to ride as close to all the borders as possible, which meant along the coastline in the East, South and West and along the Pakistani, Chinese, Nepali, Burmese and Bangladeshi borders in the North West, North and North East. We set ourselves a limit of fifty-five days. For weeks, we pondered over the TIK individual state maps making decisions of how much to cover each day, where to stop, etc. Simultaneously, I began to read travelogues of people from the time of the Portuguese, Mughals and the Chinese, but found no one who had ever circumnavigated India. So we would be the first. This fact gave us a real adrenalin shot to catty on with our plans. In my mind, I was set on doing the journey on an Indian bike - the Bajaj Pulsar 180cc. The only reason was that Indian readers would be able to identify with the bike. Since the first ride on a Pulsar when it first carne out, it has been at topof my list of Indian bikes. Dinesh wanted to ride a bigger machine and so selected the Suzuki DR6so that he would procure from Singapore. My editor went to work arranging the Pulsar, while Dinesh's contacts also went to work in the same direction. Dinesh also suggested a whole back up team, with two jeeps following us. This would carry spares, someone who would service and look after the bikes, a still photographer and a cinematographer. As you can see, by then, we had decided that the journey needed to be documented in both the medias. Trying to keep the expedition under cover as much as we could, we also needed help in planning and organizing the journey. I spoke to my cousin and adventure companion from the past, Jehangir Vakil. He at once suggested the name of his cousin Lt. Gen. Rostum N anavatty who had been a highly respected commanding officer in both Jammu&Kashmir, and the North-Eastern regions. Lt. Gen Nnavatty referred our case to Lt. Gen K. S. Rao, the chief of BRO - Border Roads Organization. Both these gentlemen went all out in helping us and before we knew it our entire journey through the troubled areas of Jammu and Kashmir, Ladakh and the North-East was organised. Now carne the time to select the team. The first person unanimously selected to accompany us was Joe Raja Singh. He is one of the finest motorcycle engineers we have in our country. I have known him from the time when he was in school, fixing bicycles. Now he works on the most sophisticated modern machines from all over the world. Add to that, the fact that he is good-natured, full of humor and exudes loads of positive energy - invaluable qualities for any expedition. We lined up the photographer, Ameet Mallapur and the videographer Rakesh Haridash. Then carne on board Navin Boppiah who would look after the daily needs like hotel bookings, food, gas, finances and the general well being of the team. Meanwhile, Dinesh met an old friend of his from school days, Bari Kumar. Bari is an artist living in Los Angeles who was in Bangalore for a holiday. He got wind of this plan and promptly carne on board as the third rider. About four months before the flag-off, Dinesh and Bari changed their minds and decided in favour of the Kawasaki KLE 500s as against the Suzuki that they had initially decided on. Orders were placed accordingly. We were hoping that all three bikes would arrive at least fifteen days before the ride but no such luck. We had selected and booked a Mahindra Camper and a Mahindra Bolero GLX as the support and photography vehicles; even those took forever to corne. When they actually did corne, one of them had over 1500 km on the clock and Dinesh refused delivery till another one was arranged for as replacement. Everything was finally in place for a start on 25th September 2005. The dates were decided keeping in mind the road conditions in J &K and Ladakh, and the conditions in the North Eastern states later during the trip. Everything was in place, but ironically, we still had no bikes! Our anxiety was starting to reach levels that BP patients would be familiar with. Sleepless nights and several phone calls later, all three bikes arrived just 36 hours before the departure! The KLE 50 os were in dismantled condition and Joe went to work on them right away. I had to go to the local transport guys to pick up my Bajaj Pulsar 180 DTS-i. The Pulsar arrived with no air in the tyres, the chain sagging loose and the steering head bearing loose enough to fall off any minute. I found the grips too hard and so got them changed to softer ones. The rest was rectified by Joe and his head honcho Armugam in a few minutes. After a delicious breakfast at the Road Trip Restaurant, planned meticulously by Dinesh, we set off amid cheers, tears, the press and good blessings from our families and friends on 25th September 2005. It had yet not sunk in for any of us that We had taken on a mammoth journey of about 17,000 kilometers. and that we were to ride for 56 days. Just a hundred kilometers or so out of Bangalore. we stopped as Joe Raja Singh pulled out the stickers that he had made of 'Bharat Parikrama' for all and 'Bike INDIA' for me. It was the first revelation that whatever task Joe was given, he never forgot, and completed it to a T. It was also the first experience of making stops with imported bikes in the entourage; invariably, there was a small crowd around us even before we knew it! This scene would follow us all throughout the journey. Speaks volumes about biking's universal appeal.Our first leg was to Coondapur via Mangalore. At the next stop for photography, as we were nearing Sakleshpur, a truck came and stopped across the road. The driver wanted to take a closer look at the bikes. Then along came two small town riders zipping desperately on their bike with their necks craning towards us.They crashed straight into the parked truck! It was quite a terrible accident. The poor rider was unconscious for a while. More than the crashed riders, it was we who learnt an important lesson - never park the bikes on the side of the road, instead take them some way away from the road. Meanwhile, the landscape changed from flat tops around Hassan to fabulous forests after Sakleshpur. Our estimate of covering the first 450km by daylight went up in smoke, as the road from Mangalore to Coonadapur was terrible. We reached past 9 pm.Next morning the local press was there to meet us. We lined up and got some pictures taken with the Nutrine Confectionaries placard behind us. We then headed for Goa. It was a great ride through the edge of the Western Ghats. The mountains on the East, and the sea on the West. It gave us many photo-ops (as we call them). Reaching Goa, I had some scenic roads in mind and we went all out for them. Here, Bari Kumar had his first spill. Going round a sharp uphill bend his bike tilted over. Bari was the least experienced rider amongst us. More significantly, he had never ridden in India! To even start such a big journey was really brave on his part. If this were not a baptism by fire for Bari, what else could be?! In Goa, Joe gave treated our bikes to its first oil change and gave them a detailed check up as we had clocked over 700 km on brand new bikes. Goa to Ratnagiri was one of the very best rides of the western coast. The roads were superb, and traffic was next to nothing. The landscape with forests and paddy fields was intoxicating. Our bikes behaved very well. All three of us enjoyed the endless sweeping corners. Dinesh actually went to the extent of giving his bike a full throttle burst. As we were nearing Ratnagiri, it began to drizzle. We put on our rain gear but within twenty minutes the rain stopped. Meanwhile, Navin Boppiah,an ardent fisherman, couldn't resist trying his luck near the Ramagiri harbour. Better luck next time, Navin. Next day was a long haul, Ramagiri to Daman. The journey was uneventful till we had to cross Mumbai and hit the Western Express highway to Gujarat. Passing Bhiwandi and Thane was a nightmare. The roads were atrocious, dust and diesel fumes so thick we could hardly see and breathe, the trafic was dense and unruly and on top of it all, it became dark. Those few hourstrying to do 4° odd kilometers went down in our log-books as one of the worst. Again, because of this patch our calculationswent to the winds and we reached Daman past midnight. Next morning before the others were up I made a quick visit to the Atash Behram at Udwada, the most important pilgrimage place for Parsees. This day too our journey was going to be long and on roads that none of us had ever ridden before. Ourdestination was Bhavnagar, without touching Ahmedabad, around the Bay of Cambay. We hit North on the Western Express Highway and after Bharuch turned west towards Cambay. The recent monsoons had literally destroyed the roads. Our journey became slow and tedious. At one point, almost at 3 pm, Bari had had enough. The riding along with the jet lag got the better of him. So from this point to Bhavnagar Joe rode his bike and he rode in one of the cars. We reached Bhavnagar after 3am!At Bhavnagar, through the good offices of my cousin Jehangir Vakil, we had been given a complimentary stay at the Neelam Bag Palace. It was also our rest day. We enjoyed the hospitality in great comfort. We got caught up with laundry, though, which is always a big problem when you are shifting base everyday. The off-day also gave us an opportunity to update our journals and confirm arrangements for the coming days. The rest day had done us all a world of good. In high spirits, we started off early morning to go around the Saurashtra peninsula. That is when the first hiccup on my Pulsar surfaced. The speedo cable came off. Joe fixed it. Then the side stand warning light went off. We didn't fix it. Then the high beam switch got stuck! Joe fixed it. We reached Diu, one of the Portuguese colonies on the tip of Saurashtra at lunchtime. After a brilliant seafood lunch at a seaside restaurant we carried on and lost our way! We were really skirting the ocean shoreline when the road just disappeared! An old man in typical Saurashtra attire saw us discussing and said, "You look lost. Come to my house, have some tea and then I'll tell you how to go." We were amazed! It was also interesting to see hordes of young people on bicycles going somewhere! Answering our queries, they told us that they were all off for a darshan of a Mataji near Lakhpat! When asked where were they all coming from, they replied, "Bombay!" But that is what makes India. From nothing, anything can happen. There is never a dull moment. We reached Chorwad, a small coastal town with a dilapidated palace and a rundown guesthouse on the coast. Jehangir Vakil had organised this accommodation too. Though it was really decrepit, we had a great dinner and a good rest. Next morning we rode on the highway skirting the Arabian Sea and reached Porbandar, birthplace of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. What made it very special was that we were there on his birthday. A large crowd gathered around us creating a minor traffic jam. We paid our respects and rode on to Dwarka and then to Okha, the farthest west we could get on the Saurashtra peninsula. On the West, was the Indian Ocean and in the North, the Gulf of Kuchch. There was a lone sentry of the Border Security Force guarding a tiny boat jetry. We asked him why he was there and he said infiltrators from Pakistan might come here by boat! You see, never a dull moment! We rode off to Jamnagar, the big Reliance Industries place and once a great princely state, which is, like most small cities of India, in a terrible shape. Old parts neglected and new parts being constructed, looking like ruins forever. The Reliance Township is a superbly laid out place but once you leave it, the city of Jamnagar is nothing to write about.It had been a long ride. We cleaned up and met for drinks and dinner in Navin's room. Each place we ate and asked for snacks we would be offered 'Chilli Chicken'! No marter, which state, which city or town, we ate Chilli Chicken every single evening! After a late breakfast we were off for the next leg to Mandvi. Just outside Jamnagar, poor Bari had his second toss! The culprit - a dog running across the road. A typical Indian road phenomenon, which could never happen anywhere else! The road round the Gulf of Kuchch is scenic in its own peculiar way. At some points, the sea comes right up to the road and on the other side are sprawling salt flats stretching out as far as the eye can see. At that place the road tUrned into a four-lane expressway with tollbooths. Passing Bhachau we tUrned southwest again and skirted the sea till we reached Mandvi on the beach. The Mahara; Kumar of Kuchch, on the request of Jehangir Vakil. gave us accommodation in his five star tents near to the sea. We were surprised to see that our tents were air-conditioned and had fabulous toilets and sit outs. All of us rushed to the sea to have a dip. Navin went off fishing and to everyone's surprise and mostly his own caught a small fish! He was ecstatic and we were tickled to see him so excited.I was carrying all my coffee-making paraphernalia, and next morning, made a superb brew which I shared with Joe, my room-mate on the trip. On the way to Jhakhau, near Naliya, we saw IAF fighter planes doing sorties. It was strange to see this as there was no trace of an airfield. We reached Lakhpat, an old trading fort town that lies facing Pakistan. It is really the western most part of India. A dirt road lead towards the old fort and we decided to film our entry into the big gate. Wham! Bari slipped and fell again! It was like him trying to prove that 'the day is not over if I haven't done my bit'. Thank heavens none of the falls injured either the rider or the machine.On the way to Bhuj I gave a ride to a young man. He was thrilled to be a part of the whole expedition. He showed us a place to have lunch. While thanking us he commented, "Only very rich or very mad people will do something what you guys are doing". We had a sumptuous vegetarian lunch at a sardar's dhaba. The owner took personal interest in us and told us that he had been in that remote place since twenty years! Talk about adventurous people! We reached Bhuj early evening uneventfully.Next morning we were off to Kharagodha. Once on the road, we realised how inaccurate the TTK maps were. From Halvad to Dhrangadra there is no road shown on the map and it was one of the best stretches of state roads that one can ever come across! Kharagodha is situated on the edge of the Small Rann Of Kuchch. This is where my cousin Jehangir Vakil has his magnesia and salt works, handed down through generations. Jehangir has been my adventure buddy for a long time. We have done many wild things including shooting the rapids in all the major rivers of Gujarat during peak floods. He is a keen historian; slightly retro, excellent storyteller, superb host, and a warm and affectionate person. I place him in the category of 'The Last of the Mohicans'. The reception he gave us included a local band playing and beautiful ladies with gorgeous garlands who welcomed us by putting a tika on each of us. It was most touching and we were all overcome with emotion. We had planned a rest day with Jehangir and rest it was indeed. All our needs were taken care of. Joe serviced and changed oils in all three bikes as we had clocked over 3500km. In the evening there was an extensive barbeque, prawns from the salt pans, mutton samosas and all that one could drink. Jehangir's friends, Shabeer and Sarfaraz, who live in that area had come over and regaled us with stories of the desert, falconry and shikar. The next night Dinesh and Navin were taken for a wild boar hunt. They didn't get anything but the sheer excitement generated was enough. When we left Kharagodha, we couldn't thank Jehangir enough. Not only for his hospitality but for all the arrangements he had made for us throughout Gujarat. We left Gujarat with a heavy heart. We were supposed to stop for the night at Barmer, but the roads were so good that we made it all the way to Jaisalmer by evening. Riding through the bleak desert landscape of Rajasthan was an experience we all cherished. We spotted a Neel Gai, Chinkara and wild Asses. We rode over 550 kilometres.I don't think there is any need to introduce Jaisalmer. I have been there many times but this time was a bit different as INTACH had taken over the fort city giving it a real clean up job. Many places in the city have been restored to their past glory while others are in the process of restoration. Walking through the narrow lanes where people stay, work, sell and continue life as it must have been several hundred years ago is a must for any tourist. Lots of nice small places to eat have popped up which add to the medieval charm. Rakesh was filming early morning when he felt tremors! No one believed him, but more of that later. On the run from Jaisalmer north to Bikaner I had a very touching experience. I had parked under a lone tree with the desert all around. A little boy came along with his goats, stopping to look at me and my bike. I asked him where he was from. He pointed and said ''That village!" I couldn't see anything except sand dunes. I offered him some sweets, which he refused. I offered him some coins which he also refused! When I asked him what he would like he answered, 'A pen, I need it to go to school’. What does one say to that! By this time Dinesh had come along. We were both left speechless.The rest of the ride through Ganganagar to Amritsar was unevenrful but the changes in landscape, people and food that happen from Rajasthan to Punjab are awesome. From the dry dusty sand dunes to lush green agriculture, from camel cart type traffic to enormous road hogging harvesting machines, small glasses for tea and water to huge tumblers for milk and lassi are some of the things that hit you right in the face. It's at these times that you seriously realise how diverse and beautiful India is. We had crossed 5000 kilometres.Each time I have been to Amritsar I have visited the Golden Temple, the holiest place for the Sikh community. This time was no different. Early morning Joe and I made a visit to the temple. I hazard to say that it is one of the cleanest, most peaceful and friendliest place of pilgrimage in India. Those who have been to Punjab and visited it are privileged and those who haven't should make it a point to do so. Sadly, there are still traces of Operation Blue Star, a terrible part of our recent history. The same afternoon the rest of the team visited the temple and all came back with the same reaction as mine. Sanjiv Shah, the well-known filmmaker joined us from Ahmedabad. Our hotel informed us that the Wagah border for crossing into Pakistan was just 3° minutes away. We decided to go there, not on our bikes but in auto rickshaws. The journey turned out to be much longer and the auto ride a bit too uncomfortable. Every evening at the border there is a small ceremony by both India as well as Pakistan and hordes of people go to watch it. We were almost stampeded, however, like the rest of the hordes we could say we were ten feet from Pakistan! We returned to our hotel and treated ourselves to the best tandoori cuisine we had in the entire trip. The same day news about the terrible earthquake in Kashmir was flashed on TV screens and newspapers all over the country. Our families were worried, but we phoned our BRO contacts in Jammu and Srinagar and they gave us the green signal to carry on. From now on we were the guests of the (BRO) Border Roads Organisation, a wing of the Indian Army, and when they say the roads are open, they mean business. Our ride to Jammu was uneventful. Just outside Jammu we were put up in a place called Kali Chuck by the BRO, in a small hotel owned by one Mr. Choudhury. Since we had reached early, Joe changed the tyres of both the Kawasakis from Dunlops to Michelins. Dinesh's rear was in bad shape. It just showed how hard he rode compared to us. I changed my rear from an MRF to a Dunlop. Right across our hotel was an Army School for kids and the security outside made us feel like we were in a war movie! This was only the beginning of what we would be seeing all through Kashmir. I helped Joe take the tyres across to a reluctant tyre shop owner. In the meanwhile, Navin followed his nose and went looking for biryani. We succeeded before it was too dark and so did Navin. The most anticipated part of our journey to the Himalayas began. We stopped in Udhampur for breakfast with Retired Lt. General Sharma. It was a killer breakfast. Stuffed to our gills with eggs and toast, we rode on. Jammu to Srinagar is probably one of the most important highways in India. Throughout, at regular intervals, there were men with automaticskeeping a vigil on the road. We also noticed men searching for mines and other hidden anti­personal weapons. This road is also proneto landslides, as is the rest of the Himalayan range, so loads of rescue and relief vehicles could be seen. TheKashmiri drivers were another bunch to deal with. They couldn't care less how they drove. Then there was the constant traffic of the big military vehicles. It was all a little unnerving. But the ever changing landscape of the valleys and snow peaked mountains in the horizon more than made up for it. As the road neared the Banihal Pass we stopped for snacks and tea at a lonely little dhaba. The owner served us boiled eggs with bread and butter and a very welcome cup of hot tea, as by now it was getting cold. Some of the men guarding the road came over to talk to us. One of them gave us his parents' number asking us to call them and say he was well. Dinesh, triedcalling on his cell phone right away but couldn't get through. These poor but large hearted soldiers stand alone from 7 am to 4 pm, in absurd temperatures risking their lives daily! It is not an enviable job at all. We had no idea what awaited us at the Banihal tunnel. As we reached the point, two sterns looking military guards stopped us and said the officer in charge wanted to see us. As we got off the bikes I began to collect the official documents I was carrying, just in case. We were marched off to a small shed. To our great surprise we were told that the BRa had organised lunch for us! We thanked them profusely. They went out of their way to give us a guide who would take us all the way to Srinagar. This was God sent as it was getting dark and overcast. But one thing they refused firmly, we were not permitted to take any photographs due to security reasons. After the Banihal Pass the road is superb, opening onto the Srinagar Valley. A few kilometers from Srinagar it began to rain.We changed into our rain suits. Visibility was not the best as it was dark by now, plus our visors were getting foggy due tothe cold. Without any further incident, we reached the officers mess of the BRO. Warm rooms and hot baths were most welcomedby all. I had been to Srinagar a few times before and this time it didn't impress me very much. The city has become like any other Indian small town, neglected, dirty, confused and overbearing. Besides, there was an uneasy calm and we all felt the tension in the air. Braving all this and with temperatures near zero we went off and had a Kashmiri lunch at Hotel Jehangir, a shikara ride in the Dal Lake and a good coffee in a German owned bakery! Bari, Dinesh and I had a long evening with our host Col. Babu discussing many aspects of Indian life, politics and culture. Later, by some strange fate we were asked to have dinner in the 'Ladies Room' of the Mess! That was a gas! Next morning we took off and completed the Sri nagar Valley and climbed to Sonmarg. We had breakfast at a picture-postcard perfect place while a huge crowd of young men and kids admired our bikes, holding their own ponies and mules at a safe distance. After Sonmarg we headed for Kargil, our night halt. The ride is through God's own country. We feasted on never ending climbs and spectacular mountains and valleys. Some good roads and some bad roads later we reached Kargil, later than expected. Most of the talk during the ride revolved around the not too distant Kargil war. Looking for our BRa accommodation became an adventure and finally one of them had to come and guide us to a tiny outpost, called Mulbek, at an altitude of 3045 metres! That was our night halt. The accommodation looked very new and temporary but comfortable. It was also our first experience of temperatures below zero. Kargil, or Mulbek to Leh must be one of the ten best rides of the world. I am not a poet nor do I have the vocabulary to describe the scenery around us. The terrain is just awesome. We stopped at the Zojila pass, 3550 metres above sea level to take pictures and soak in the mountains and snow around. We had lunch at a tent restaurant run by a Ladhaki family. It was a round tent made from old parachute material, the interior of which reminded me of travels in Mongolia. There were some road workers eating there and we struck up a conversation with them. They worked for the BRa and were labour immigrants from u.P and Bihar. They were jet black, covered with tar and dust and had not had a bath for months! All they asked of us was cigarettes! The road constantly follows the Indus River. The land around becomes a desert of flaming colours. Orange, blue, grey, yellow and in many places stark white. Here the sky seems to change colours as well and one is distracted, should one look away or look up or concentrate on the road! In this heavenly landscape sits the town of Lamayuru. If this is not a fairy tale place, a sheer fantasy, I don't what is! The road later suddenly descends down a deep gorge with unimaginable formations of hanging rocks, almost 1000 metres! At the end of this, another fantasy ride to a dhaba where we had a snack and reluctantly carried on into the Leh Valley. We reached Leh at 3350 metres, before sundown, quite exhausted, not by riding but from the sheer exhilaration of being there. We stayed with the BRO in their camp Himank. Not tired by the ride, early next day some of us visited the Khardungla Pass. Since Sanjiv and I had been there before, we decided to take in some shots of Leh while the others ventured off to the highest motorable pass in the world, over 5700 metres above sea level. We regrouped for lunch at Leh. The first casualty of altitude sickness was rookie Rakesh Haridas. He was the youngest and had shown loads of energy all through but at lunch on this day he was 'packing up!' A good night's sleep did him well. Early the next morning we started off for Manali. We were told by our hosts that this was the last day the roads would beofficially open. From the next day the road would be closed and no traffic would be allowed on it and those who did travel, did so at their own risk. Simply put, we made it just in time! Feasting our senses on the landscape we reached Sarchu, which is situated at the bottom of the Tanglangla Pass. Until we stopped and got off our bikes we didn't realise that we were over 4200 metres high and the outside temperature was -16 degrees! Here the second person succumbed to altitude sickness. This time it was Navin. An army doctor came over from the nearby camp and examined him. He needed rest and sleep.In Sarchu we took refuge in another one of those 'Mongolian' looking parachute tent hotels. The fire was burning and hot tea was being served which was more than welcome. An old man who was camping there for the night advised us not to go ahead but to rest there. He said though it was just afternoon, to cross the pass and reach the other side would be impossible before nightfall. We took his word and after some rum and a 100 parathas piled into a similar tent next door. All nine of us slept in one room. Each had a bottle of water just in case we required it. Huge heavy blankets were thrown over us. How we survived the night is a surprise to us even today. The cold inside the tent hit -4 degrees. In a few hours the water in the bottles had turned to ice! None of us had enough sleep but next morning we were up early dreading we might need to go to the toilet. I can assure you it is the most painful task in sub zero temperatures! We got back into gear but the bikes and cars were frozen stiff! Joe simply boiled water and threw it on the engine blocks. In a few minutes all the three bikes fired! The jeeps didn't respond, as they needed fires under them. We decided to go ahead and hoped we would hit sunlight to end our misery. On the first bend away from the camp we had to negotiate a frozen stream. Dinesh who first went on the ice, slipped and fell. Bari and I managed to cross over. From then on the going became slow, as the climbs were very steep and full of loose gravel. A lot of places we had to negotiate frozen streams and we did it without untoward incident. The jeeps caught up with us by the time we were at the top of Tanglangla. This was the highest point in our Parikrama, 5444 metres above sea level, and many photographs and hugs celebrated this fact. The road dips from here onwards and settles into a white desert-like landscape. Later on are more climbs and descents. Each turn of the road competing with the last one in exhilarating mountainscapes until we go down to the tree line area and stop at Darcha for lunch. The cold and the concentration required to ride had taken its toll on everyone. We still had to go over the Rohtang before we could reach the comfort of Manali. There was a discussion whether we should stop some place or carryon. Dinesh and I convinced the group that one last effort was needed to take us over the pass. We could see clouds over Rohtang but we carried on and to our surprise the weather up there was crystal clear. Rohtang Pass is 4200 metres above sea level and though I had been over it a few times before, this was special, as by now it was late evening. Rohtang is notorious for howling winds that start in the afternoon, but even those had let up for us to pass! At Manali the heated rooms of the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Hotel and hot water for a bath were a heavenly welcome. Bari Kumar had stashed away a bottle of Green Label Scotch for just such an occasion, which of course we gulped down in no time.Fresh and rested we started for Chandigarh. The roads in Himachal are a biker's dream. We stopped at Bilaspur for lunch and I topped my tank there. The Pulsar had taken me 681 kilometres on one tank of gas! We picked up some more tyres for the Kawasakis and headed for Rishikesh the next day. Just before Dehradoon, Dinesh's bike had a flat tyre. The first one of the journey. To our luck it wasn't far from a puncture shop. We went through Dehradoon with a lunch stop and reached Rishikesh after dark. The roads are good but the traffic was too much and unruly to say the least. Rishikesh to Almora is a fantastic drive again but in one of the many streams flowing across the road my bike got stuck and I had - to put my foot down to prevent a tip over. Ameet helped pull me out while Joe stood his ground taking pictures! Finally Dinesh managed to park his bike and rescue me! After this, the entire ride was uncomfortable due to my left shoe and pants being wet and ice cold. After Almora the road till we reached U.P was blissful, then all hell broke loose. Bad roads, terrible traffic with trucks, tractors, beat up cabs, three-wheeled carriers, passenger busses, bullock carts and a few private vehicles all struggling for the same space, the National Highway, or a pretext of a road. Night halt was at a small town called Lakhimpur and the KLE's created havoc on the streets, what with people wanting to see and touch them. Our hotel rooms were another story. The rooms were full of grasshoppers! From Lakhimpur to Gorakhpur our next halt, we went pass Lucknow. On the bypass a young rider riding like a maniac took on Dinesh and did some hair-raising plus harebrained riding! At the breakfast halt Dinesh gave him a dressing down and advised him to at least wear a helmet. This fell on deaf ears as the guy did a wheelie and took off! As we entered Bihar the nightmare began. The roads are so bad that we had to ride slow and concentrate forever. Potholes and sides were like small valleys! We avoided as many as we could but there were many we couldn't. Our bikes and bodies took a severe battering for hundreds of kilometres. At one stage Dinesh lost his concentration and fell. It was not a bad fall but he almost got hit by a truck! The same evening I fell! I was riding on the side of the road and trying to get back on I tilted over! No damage, thankfully. We were passing Bihar on Election Day. There was supposed to be a curfew all over but we kept riding on! Twice we were stopped by cops and election officers, both half drunk! They couldn't understand for their life, why we were doing this and why we were so far from Bangalore! To our surprise the landscape of North Bihar was just breathtaking. The people were really hospitable. Even when we stopped for gas the attendants would offer us tea. The most memorable sight was kids riding buffaloes while they were grazing. We hadn't seen this anywhere else on our journey. We reached Purnia literally in pieces, battered and bruised by the Bihar roads. Purnia to Siliguri was uneventful except that we passed the Naxalbari town, birthplace of the Naxalite movement. Joe and I tried to look for tyres for the Pulsar but couldn't find the Ii' size anywhere. The Bajaj Auto spare parts stockist thought that our entire adventure was 'a waste of time, money and energy'. Thank you very much.We raced to Gangtok as fast as we could, to get away from the indifferent roads and 'attitude' of West Bengal. We were hosted in Sikkim by the 'king-to-be' Jigme Dorji who happened to be an ex-student of the Rishi Valley School, where Dinesh and Bari had studied. Surprisingly Gangtok is still clean and orderly, unlike many hill stations of India. Jigme was a great host and we feasted on Sikkimese food, hot baths and dean rooms for two days. I had been to Sikkim often before and wanted to visitthe Royal Monastery, which had nostalgic memories for me. Jigme was kind enough to take time off and show me around while the rest gawked at the Sikkimese beauties. We left Sikkim with a heavy heart and with the traditional silk shawls given to us by Jigme. The beauty and the hospitality of Sikkim were forever etched in our minds. Bike : February 2006