A SOLO MOUNTAINBIKE RIDE ACROSS THE INDIAN HIMALAYA

DARREN MILLER

I HAD IMAGINED completing a solo mountain bike trip in the Himalaya for a number of years.

Having climbed or trekked in over a dozen different areas previously, Ladakh and Spiti were two regions I had not seen as yet. So it seemed appropriate that I should link these two areas up on such a trip. Originally I'd planned to ride from Leh to Shimla via Kaja, but with just over a week before I was due to fly out of Australia, news came in about floods in the Kinnaur district. The Sutluj river had broken its banks, with countless bridges down. There were massive landslides, with rain still falling. The prospects for the trip were not promising. I looked into other possible routes around the worst of the areas, and it seemed my only real option was to trek over the Pin Parvati Pass, out of Kaja, to Manikaran. However, to do this section I would need porters.

I carefully packed the bike in a cardboard box for the flights ahead. After arriving at Delhi international airport I was met by some old friends. We placed the bike box directly onto the roof of the car for the trip to the domestic terminal. Driving along with our arms out the car windows holding the box down. I had visions of the box sliding off the roof and going under the wheels of a truck. Thankfully we made the airport without mishap, though we did have sore arms!

The plane to Leh did not inspire a lot of confidence, it not being one of the newer ones in the fleet. Not long after take off from Delhi, the green forests of Himachal Pradesh came into sight, followed by the mountains and glaciers, so close and clear below, then the barren landscape of Zanskar and Ladakh. It was amazing to think that I planned to ride a bike over such a dry mountainous moonscape. Four days were spent taking in the sights around Leh to help acclimatisation.

Leh — Upshi (49 km)

After all the preparations it was time to start. The Ladakhi lady at the guesthouse invited me 'if its too hard come back'. This did not inspire a lot of confidence. One of the first things I discovered on this first morning was the louder the blast from the horn behind, the bigger the object. Shey monastery was my first stop; followed by Tikse monastery, which I thought resembled the Potala in Tibet. This road runs next to the Indus river, in a wide-open valley. A head wind made the going slow, around 15 km, though the 21-kg I was carrying did not help. Reached Upshi just in time for a huge windstorm. Already there was a language problem, with me trying to make myself understood as to what I wanted to eat. It should have not been that hard, as there was not a lot of choice: noodles or noodles.

Upshi - Rumtse (31 km)

In the morning I crossed the bridge over the Indus and headed up the narrow gorge next to the Kyainmar river that flows into the Indus. Looking behind I could see and feel that I was gaining a lot of height. The gorge was quite amazing, and it occured to me that you most likely would not appreciate it as much with your knees up under your chin, squashed in like a sardine in a can, with your nose pushed against the window of a bus. At least that's what I told myself! Then thick black clouds started forming ahead.

The road was still bitumen, but with areas of rough dirt, with the odd landslide to by pass. Thankfully I made Rumtse just minutes before the rain and hailstones. Rumtse is a little village, with just a few houses, built in the local tradition of mud and stone. The locals all seemed to be out in the fields cutting barley in time to beat the winter snows. The only place you can obtain food is at a temporary tent, erected for the season, then dismantled for the winter, usually around mid to late September. The choices for lunch or dinner were again, noodles or noodles. The odd snow capped mountain was coming into view, both down the valley and ahead.

Rumtse-valley camp (16 km)

Today was my first encounter with the dreaded switchbacks, only an hour out of Rumtse. These switchbacks just went up and up. I had encountered roads like these before in my travels over the years, but this was the first time I'd encountered them on a bike. I began to have second thoughts about those who chose to take a bus.

At first I thought I was doing all right, riding a bit, then walking and pushing the bike. Then I began to feel the altitude, as I was now at around 4700 m. Once my speed dropped down to 5 km an hour it was just as easy to hop off the bike and push it. I did a lot of pushing! It seemed so much harder to ride a fully laden bike unacclimatised as opposed to trekking- and even more demoralising. Reached a stage where I really could not go on, so I pushed the bike up a grassy valley that ran between the switchbacks that looked like a short cut. Camped next to a small stream.

Climbing east ridge of Arwa Spire. Arwa Tower in background.

Article 11 (AI Powell)
3. Climbing east ridge of Arwa Spire. Arwa Tower in background.

Sunset over Nanda Devi.

Article 11 (AI Powell)
4. Sunset over Nanda Devi.

In the gorge of Murgo, 'gateway to hell', on the Karakoram trail.

Article 13 (Kaivan Mistry)
5. In the gorge of Murgo, 'gateway to hell', on the Karakoram trail.

Valley camp — upper valley camp (1 km)

I still needed more time to acclimatise today, so after lunch I pushed the bike further up the steep incline closer to the road, and camped at around 4900 m. My plan was to make an early start the next day and cross the Taglang la (5328 m), 5 kms above. From my camp there was a great view down the valley with it dropping away quite steeply. It snowed a little overnight, which helped preserve the left over noodles for breakfast.

Upper valley camp — Pang (80 km)

Relayed the bike and then the panniers up to the road, about 500 m in distance, it being too steep and the bike too heavy to do in one trip. I really had to pull out all my reserves just to manage this as it was. Felt if I could just get over the pass I'd be better for it, as it should be mostly down hill to Pang. All the pain was forgotten when I reached the top, with magnificent views all around. From here you really get a reminder, if you need it, as to how harsh this part of the world is.

The wind was blowing up the valley quite hard, which was sending the prayer flags fluttering. A British man in a 4-wheel drive confirmed the road would be mostly down for me to Pang, at least it seemed that way sitting in a car, on a bike it may be different.

The road down was not so easy, as there were road works taking place along this section, with rocks the size of fists compacted down. The road builders (a hardy lot if ever there were any) put these rocks down as the base of the road surface, this at a later date has hot black tar poured over it that they melt in 44 gallon drums. It made it hell to try and ride on these rocks. At first I walked the bike it was so rough, even with front shock absorbers, the bike was just thrown around with the tyres and wheels taking a hell of a beating.

Finally I hit the bitumen again, and in turn hit a top speed of 50 km/ hr.

After the descent I came to an area known as the More Plains. This is as it implies, a flattish plain, with barren hills all around. You don't really ride as such at these altitudes, more amble up to a rise, then coast down again only to repeat the process again. Any power you once had in your legs disappears. I feel my strength was further weakened by a bit of diarrhoea for a number of days now, a bug I may have picked up in Upshi.

These dry More Plains seem to never end. Little rises followed by little descents, till you come to the sudden big descent of 5-10 km into Pang via more switchbacks. Pang sits next to the Suinkhel river, and is another place where there is temporary-tented accommodation, along with a police/ army checkpost, and more noodles! I expected to see some buses overnighting here, but there where none, only a couple of Westerners on motorbikes. The Ladakhi woman who cooked for me that night was a lot of fun, and the never ending stream of local visitors also made for an interesting night — old men with the common Ladakhi cap and prayer wheel in hand, along with worry beads.

Pang — stream camp (29 km)

The road out of Pang was very spectacular, high rocky cliffs, raging river, huge gorges, and more switchbacks and yet another pass (Kanbla Jal) at 4878 m. I could not help but look for a climbing line up a fantastic looking spear of rock, next to the pass and river. The intriguing thing being if such a wall of rock was in the French Alps it would have swarms of climbing routes and climbers all over it, but here it just sits waiting.

After the usual ride, switchbacks, bike pushing, sitting down, truck dodging, and walk approach, I found myself on top of the Lachlung la (5060 m). A highlight of reaching the top of a pass is always the ride down the other side. I would try to make sure to wear my bike helmet on these descents, only sometimes I would be hooting along and then realise I did not have it on. The descent to the Tsarap river, and another army camp, was probably about 5km in a straight line, with the switchbacks it made it about 20 kms long with over 20 hairpin bends! Unfortunately what goes down must go up, and having no sooner reached the river it was back up more switchbacks. Camp was made some 5 km below yet another pass.

Camp — Sarchu (50 km)

What seemed so high and far yesterday was not so hard today - the 5 km to the top of the Nakeela pass (4750 m) from camp, coming in no time. This in fact turned out to be a great day, after the pass it was 21 km down hill yet again. On the way I met two other mountain bikers going the other way, along with a German with a broken down Enfield motorbike. The ride down was something else, switchbacks like you would not believe. The final ride up the river to Sarchu was against a strong head wind, the strongest so far. At one point I was sitting beside the road for 20 min while a stream of army trucks went past, no sooner had they gone by and another stream of trucks came the other way, my head was spinning by the end with the diesel fumes.

Sarchu is not the nicest of places to camp with the dust storms that come through, but the food was good, some of the best noodles of the trip!

Sarchu — Darcha (77 km)

Thankfully the wind had dropped from yesterday which made the ride up the wide valley most pleasant. Today was the first time that I'd felt like I was riding well-maybe I'd finally acclimatised. By now the road had turned to a rough track, then I was confronted with a large water crossing, the water was flowing quite fast over the road and above my knees. There was a restaurant 5 kms before the Baralacha la (4885 m), next to a big lake, which made a good place for lunch. I think this was another reason why I was riding much better, I was able to eat a lot more, and hold it in. Before I knew it I was on top of the pass! With views of the distant snow capped mountains of the Manali/ Kullu district.

I must say I was in two minds as to which way to go from here, the normal route to Keylong, and then onto the Kunzum la, or the trekking route to the Kunzum la. In the end I decided on the Keylong route. I met 2 other riders on more conventional bikes on the Baralacha, coming from Manali. Initially there were 4 of them, but 2 of them had to turn back only a few days into the trip having broken a crank on one bike and the frame on the other.

Any thoughts that I may have made a wrong decision were completely forgotten, as before my eyes laid over 30 kms of switchbacks, down hill!

Not only that but the road changed to bitumen once again! This time I remembered my helmet. It was fantastic going down this road. It was rough in parts, but to be able to hit speeds of 45 kms was exhilarating after the slow up-hill plods. Then another down hill ride into Darcha. Down this section I chased a 4-wheel drive into town, the sheer drops below would not have been too good for ones health, should you make a mistake, despite a helmet!

This was the best days riding I have ever experienced in my life, it had it all.

I ended up sharing a dormitory room with the occupants of the 4-wheel drive. They had turned back at the checkpoint, as the army does not allow vehicles past a certain time, due to the nature of the road. Unfortunately they decided to celebrate the fact they were on holiday, and proceeded to get very drunk - the gutter outside next morning was not a pretty sight! They would pay for this the next day over the high passes into Leh. At least I hoped so, as I was unable to get a good night's sleep because of their youthful antics!

Darcha — Keylong - Khoksar (74 km)

The gorge become green now, with native fir trees and the like, this greenery and smell was much appreciated. Still the usual switchbacks and periods of rough roads, with some huge drops down to the Bhaga river.

Reached Keylong for lunch, and confirmed arrangements with the agency in Manali regarding having porters on standby for me in Kaja should I decide, or be forced too, cross the Pin Parvati pass. Keylong was big and noisy, so I was happy to move on. The road from Tandi to Sissu was a shocker, being under repair. The extra traffic going onto Keylong did not help. Misty rain was falling as I rode into Khoksar village towards the end of the day.

Khoksar — boulder camp (39 km)

After just 5 km I was at the base of the Rothang Pass, which leads onto Manali to the south. I continued east beside the Chandra river towards the Kunzum la. The road turned into dirt once again as heavy rain began to fall. I stopped for lunch in a small mud house come restaurant, a nice old lady made my now familiar noodles. One thing I'd noticed about the road gangs in this area was that it was a true family affair. Mum and dad would be working on the road with their baby sitting in the basket next to where they would be digging or shifting rocks.

The road became worse and worse till it just was not possible to ride at all in sections. Passing through Chatril, I recalled that 10 years to the day on a climbing expedition we'd stopped over night here after having crossed over the Sara Umga pass. The road was becoming rougher and rougher, with the now common push/ride swearing at the road, or should that read track. By now I'd completely ran out of patience with the road, time and energy, so I camped in a boulder-strewn field next to the Chandra river.

Boulder camp — Kunzum la (29 km)

From here I encountered some of the worst roads I have ever been on, and that's coming from an Australian, the home of the rough road. And I thought yesterday was bad enough. Rocks the size of fists poking out of the ground, wash-aways, sand, water, landslides, you name it, it had it. This riding would not normally be so difficult and in fact would even be fun if you did not have over 20 kg sitting over the back wheel and 2 kg of camera equipment on the handlebars, every bump is exaggerated because of this weight. Bits of broken suspension from trucks lay on the road, along with an assortment of bolts. I pushed the bike where need be, but this was taking forever, would end up trying to ride only to be disheartened and have to walk again - this went on and on. I was just waiting for something to break on the bike, or a tyre to blow, but to my amazement nothing did, though the back tyres sidewalls were beginning to crack and wear out, and the rack holding the rear panniers was bending a little.

The odd truck would just pound past on the road. They seemed to have no suspension at all (probably what I was seeing was theirs, left on the road from previous trips), their tyre pressures pumped up to their maximum in order to prevent punctures. The occupants would bounce around like peas in a pot in the cabin. It took me upto 3 hours to do 15 km.

Finally I made the base of the climb that leads to the top of the Kunzum la (4550 m). It took three and half-hours to do 12 kms, both riding and pushing. The Kunzum is a very wide, flat pass, prayer flags flutter in the breeze coming up from the Spiti valley. There was no snow up top as yet, but it felt like it was only weeks away. I found a suitable camp spot away from the road with a view down into the Spiti Valley. I had longed to see this valley, having heard and read so much about it over the years.

Kunzum la — rocky camp (53 km)

The sign from the pass indicated that there was 76 km to Kaja. It was all down-hill to the Spiti river. One of the first things you notice about Spiti are the way the houses are built, very much Tibetan in character, flat roofs, with dung on the roofs used for cooking and heating. Arrived in Losar in time for lunch. This would be a nice village to spend some time exploring. The road was undulating and still dirt from Losar with the villages and people being a real highlight. Coming to a gorge, with a huge drop down to the Spiti river, the rear tyre finally cried enough, next to a sign that read 'life is too short, do not make it shorter drive safely'. Camp was made in a rocky dry landscape, 34 km from Kaza.

Rocky camp — Kaja (34 km)

Passed through some really nice villages on this stretch to Kaja, with Ki Monastery dominating the area. The Kalachakra ceremony was held here only weeks earlier, conducted by the 14th Dalai Lama. At long last the road turned into bitumen, about 10 kms before Kaja, crossed over the Spiti river and then finally into Kaja. I was informed the road onto Shimla was closed to traffic, being closed between Morang and Rampur.

I found myself with no real option but to trek over the Pin Parvati pass. Locals also informed me that 'it's not possible to ride where you did, it's too rough!' I spent a few days in Kaja taking in the sights and a trip to Tabo monastery, which is over 1000 years old. Confirmed I needed the porters with my agent, and told him where they could meet me in a couple of days. The 3 of them originally came from Nepal.

Kaja — Gulung (40 km) and Trek over the Pin Parvati Pass (5100 m) — Manikaran

I planned to start early in order to ride to the start of the trek and then partly dismantle the bike for the trek to the village of Mud. A 4- wheel drive was hired to transport the gear and porters to the starting point. The first part of the trek was in fact very rideable, it was also necessary to cross two rivers by flying foxes. The village of Mud so typical of the Spiti region was reached late in the afternoon. It was a long day today so I looked forward to a good nights sleep.

The following morning I arranged the bike so as not to get damaged and to make it as comfortable as possible for the porter. Not much was left on the bike itself, it was barely just the frame and handlebars. It was a gradual rise to the next campsite, along the way we enjoyed two female shepherds' company and tea. Our night's camp was opposite the pass that leads into Kinnaur (Tari Khang, 4866 m and Shakarode, 5025 m). The terrain up to now was still dry.

The next day we moved onto the base of the pass, crossing a number of small rivers. The biggest and by far the coldest was the one coming out of the snout of the glacier across from camp. The water was, as you'd expect, freezing. Was feeling very tired today, having not had a rest day since I arrived in Leh. The following day was, as you'd expect, a step climb, first of all on dirt and rock, then onto the ice field after less than 4 hours of walking. The snow-capped peaks were well and truly in view now, on a clear still day. There were a number of crevasses to negotiate, but before long we were on top, and surely the first time a mountain bike had been carried up this way. The view was very spectacular, with a number of 6000 m plus peaks on the other side of the Pin glacier. The height of the pass is open to debate, some maps state it as 5100 m, others 5300, I am inclined to believe the former figure.

Then down the other side, to the Manikaran side base camp. It was still a couple of days before we were to encounter any green. This did not happen until between the villages of Thakur Kvan and Bhojtunda, and with it cloud cover and mist. We were now finally out of the rain shadow and well and truly in it as it started to pour with rain at Khirganga. Locals thought the bike was in fact a motorbike with cries of 'but where's the motor'. All the porters had done well, especially the one that carried the bike without mishap.

The trip ended in Manikaran the following day, were it all began for me 10 years ago with my first climbing expedition in the Indian Himalaya. It had changed so much over the years, as I guess we all have, though not necessarily for the better.

SUMMERY

A solo mountainbike ride from Leh to Kaja. Miller then trekked across the Pin Parvati pass to Manikaran.

 

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