Day 16: The One Where Everyone Cheered for me At Deepak Tal

Strangers warmth:

Leaving Jispa headed for Zing Zing Bar, the road was a challenge. But then, as I got nearer, a sight took me by surprise – Deepak Tal Lake appeared, right by NH3. Its stunning, clear blue water was breathtaking!

What caught me off guard was the sudden burst of cheers, claps, and shouts from the folks around the lake as I approached. It put a huge grin on my face, even if it made me a tad nervous.

Suddenly, people whom I didn’t even know, wanted pictures with me, and for a moment, I felt like a celebrity! It was a reminder of how unexpected warmth and kindness from strangers can turn the toughest journeys into truly memorable adventures.

High On Beer:

Already feeling drained and craving carbs, I stumbled upon a truck selling momos and a little further a small dhaba offering chai across from the lake. My eyes were set on the hot momos, but a guy from the dhaba waved enthusiastically, drawing me in his direction.

However, upon reaching there, I realized he was quite high on beer. Feeling a bit disappointed (who drinks in the middle of the day, right?), I settled for coffee and biscuits at the dhaba itself, as I couldn’t even muster the energy to walk back to the momo truck.

Amidst an endless and somewhat daunting conversation, I finally managed to ask about nearby places to crash as this guy had me worried about the challenging roads ahead. He strongly recommended staying at the army camp just 2km away. However, my heart was set on reaching Zing Zing Bar.

After enduring the repetitive dialogue and shelling out a small fortune for subpar coffee and biscuits (seriously, three times the regular price!), I realized why my cyclist friend from Andhra had stressed the importance of carrying backup snacks. Yet, I can’t deny the fact these vendors go through to provide for us travelers in such a harsh, desolate, and cold environment.

Zombie Land:

While on my way, I stumbled upon a vast, abandoned army camp. Rows of empty tents stood against the barren landscape, with scenes resembling a zombie-filled wasteland. It hit me then: if I ever pursued filmmaking and pictured an Indian zombie movie, this spooky spot would be perfect.

Continuing my arduous journey through the steep, rugged terrain of NH3 in this cold desert, I noticed a person waving from a red jeep heading the opposite way. Assuming it was just a friendly wave, I offered a quick thumbs-up and continued, determined to conquer the challenging landscape.

Rescue by Red Jeep:

After nearly 2 kilometers, the same red jeep caught up with me. A rugged man with a magnificent beard and long hair leaned out and asked if I had lost a bag. It hit me then, the small blue bag was missing, holding vital essentials like a hydration pack, homemade snacks lovingly prepared by my aunt and energy bars.

I feel regret for not halting earlier, and thankful that these kind-hearted souls circled back to assist me. I knew retracing my path meant cycling downhill for 2 kilometers before heading back uphill. Despite our combined efforts, the bag was nowhere to be seen. The man from the jeep speculated that someone passing by might have picked it up.

Feeling disheartened, I cycled back, acknowledging that this loss joined a series of instances where I’ve misplaced things. Nonetheless, after thanking them, I continued my journey toward Zing Zing Bar, resolute to embrace the adventure despite the setback.

Lower Zing Zing Bar:

As I pedaled on, I remembered there were two Zing Zing Bars – one lower and another 6 kilometers uphill, the Upper Zing Zing Bar. The owner of the Himalayan Bike Bar had emphasized the importance of staying at the Upper Zing Zing Bar no matter what.

Exhausted and drained, I arrived at Zing Zing Bar (Lower). My body was screaming for rest, and stomach growling. Despite being uphill and still having a considerable distance to cover, I had to pause here. With no energy left to cook camping out in sub-zero temperatures is not an option.

Stepping into what seemed like a small dhaba, I was surprised to find a cozy setup. The place resembled a B&B, with a master bedroom-sized room built with layers of stone and tin sheeting for protection against extreme cold. Around 10 beds were neatly arranged in a corner.

Flint Wheel Lighter vs Standard Lighters:

I settled for the cheapest and most comforting option on the menu, I indulged in piping hot soupy Maggie, priced at 80 rupees. Amidst this respite, I realized the necessity of a reliable lighter for the uncertainty of stays ahead in bone-chilling cold, especially given the unreliability of matchboxes and standard butane lighters in sub-zero temperatures.

A flint wheel lighter would be perfect, which generates sparks by spinning against flint, and could be an emergency backup to set up a bonfire. Despite hoping to find one at the dhaba, no luck. Although the dhaba owner assured me of a possible find at the Upper Zing Zing bar.

Upper Zing Zing Bar:

As I pedaled towards Upper Zing Zing Bar, the steep 6km stretch felt like tackling a challenging 50km on flat roads. Just a kilometer away, I stumbled upon a small petrol station, a surprise in this remote landscape.

Finally reaching my destination, I was greeted by a surprising sight, a huge drum filled with water, chilling all the beverages outside this grocery store cum eatery. It was genius, using the cold temperatures to their advantage, no need for refrigerators here!

Stepping inside, my spirits lifted at the sight long awaited wish listed item the lighters filled in a container priced at a mere 10 rupees each. The store was a treasure trove of groceries, meals, everything I needed. Across the way, a sturdy tent offered beds for a good night’s sleep. It felt secure, a place to rest and refuel.

I discovered that a night’s stay in the tent was just 200 rupees, and a plate of Dal chawal, fresh and hot was 150 rupees. Trust me, finding hot food here was a blessing!

In this desert where water was scarce and solar power reigned, there was no option for a quick freshen-up, we don’t even feel like in such weather. Grateful for their hospitality, I was asked to keep my bike safe inside the tent a cozy spot straight out of a Harry Potter movie, where I’d spend the night.

Chotu From Bihar:

Thankfully, the network held up, letting me chat with family and friends a bit longer. Satisfied with those heartwarming conversations, I snuggled into bed around 6 PM, feeling grateful for this unexpected comfort in the midst of an adventurous journey.

Snuggled under layers of comfortable mattresses and blankets, I was all set to drift into a quick nap. However, my peace was interrupted by a young girl who entered the space, attempting to communicate something to me. Unfortunately, her language, likely Ladakhi, left me perplexed, but thankfully, the woman managing the place guided me to sleep under the multi-layered blankets which resemble mattresses.

After a nap, feeling refreshed, I craved a fulfilling meal before heading back to bed. As I stepped into the eatery, I met Chotu: a young lad managing liquor service for truck drivers and taking orders, including mine. Despite his duties, he held a disdain for those drivers who excessively indulged in alcohol and eagerly anticipated his upcoming vacation to Bihar. It struck me how these young minds with pure hearts manage to endure extreme temperatures.

I couldn’t help but ponder why families sent their young ones to faraway places for work rather than focusing on education. While I understood the economic realities many face in India, I contemplated how crucial it is for the government’s assistance (freebies) to reach those who truly need it.

In this environment, much like how layers and a warm soup brought comfort to me, the renowned Old Monk served as solace for those drivers navigating through the challenging night. It was a reminder of the diverse ways people find comfort in harsh conditions.

After about 30 minutes, my steaming hot meal arrived. I relished every bite and engaged in a hearty conversation with Chotu, sharing details about my travels while he expressed his longing to reunite with his family in Bihar. As I bid him goodnight and settled back into bed, Chotu departed after a call from outside for another bottle to be served, a part of his routine every night.

In the stillness of midnight at 1 AM, a sudden shiver shook me awake, the cold seeping through layers, a glance at the mobile screen showing -1°C, It was then I realized what the small kid wanted to convey to me earlier. Grateful for the tireless work of the Ladakhis, I tried to get back to sleep once again, knowing that tomorrow was a big day.

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