Day 18
Chain of Army Trucks:
Waking up in Sarchu, I ventured outside my room and started my day with brushing, far way I see a huge line of army trucks halted, all the while the sunrise slowly turning red to orange turning sandy brown mountains into canvas of colors.
Done with the morning rituals stepped into into the eatery next to my room to order a steaming cup of chai. While savoring its warmth, my thoughts drifted to my next destination, pondering the reason behind the peculiar name, Whiskey Nala.
Stocking Up Essentials:
Aware of the challenge ahead, a climb of 21 loops(17000 ft) above the sea level, I heeded the advice to carry ample water and snacks, but was cautious enough to pack extra parathas to not repeat disaster like yesterdays.
In Sarchu, having a mobile signal is a rarity, and even if you’re lucky enough to get one, relying on UPI isn’t recommended. My oversight became apparent as I found myself with no cash left, having started my expedition with just 2000/- rupees at Manali initially.
Nonetheless, paying via UPI is not accepted in the area and it seemed practical too, considering the absence of ATMs within 100-kilometer range.
Thankfully, my keralite roommate suggested a workaround, he would pay the lady in cash while I transferred the amount to him via UPI later when I have the network. I found the idea practical and decided to proceed with it.
Rear Tyre Mischief:
Rejuvenated from the early morning hot chai and Parathas, I was ready to tackle the 21 ghata loops, but things changed when I started to notice a slight inconsistency while cycling, which made me suspect my tires. Alas! , I found my rear tire low on air than usual, sending shivers down my spine.
Why did it have to happen on such a crucial day? Despite my frustration, I attempted to inflate it using the portable pump my mom had gifted me before my journey. However, the pressure gauge showed no change, leaving me disheartened.
I berated myself for lending my pump to a motorcyclist earlier (as pump turned defective); my inability to refuse had led to this predicament.Just when I felt stranded, a fellow biker noticed me and stopped his bike to inquire about the problem.
Understanding my situation, he pulled out an electronic tire inflator powered by a battery. Though we tried connecting it to the tyre valve using my valve convertor, there was no improvement.
Nevertheless, the biker inspecting the tire, assured me that the road ahead is doable with the existing pressure. His assurance gave a little hope, expressing gratitude, continued my ride towards the scary loops.
Breathtaking Tsarap Chu River:
Crossing the silver bridge revealed a breathtaking landscape, as I found myself surrounded by majestic sand mountains and flowing beside me a refreshingly blue meandering river, tempting me to take a dip in it.
The early morning fog had obscured this heavenly sight until now. However, the temptation reminded me of my biker mates experience who succumbed to high fever post swimming in this beautiful yet dangerously icy river.
Also in a region where there’s no proper transport or healthcare its not advisable to take part in such adventure, which reminded me of my own Quote: “One Should be Adventurous but Never Foolish”
Coiling Snake Around the Mountains: 21 Ghata Loops
Thus contenting myself with admiring the view, continued cycling on this relatively flat plains so far until I see them slowly emerging into loops – twisting and twirling sharply like a coiling snake around the mountains.
I opted for a simple strategy: Climb slowly and steadily without exerting myself. I took only brief one-minute breaks after each loop, sipping some ORS before continuing to the next. Occasionally, I extended these pauses to around 5 minutes for a complete rest and recharge.
People often ask if I push my bike uphill. Absolutely not! I relish the uphill ride, especially on empty roads. It’s a joyous experience, crisscrossing the scenery, feeling each breath, counting my heartbeat.
The Himalayas taught me more about myself than I’d ever imagined. They reveal our true capabilities. Don’t underestimate or overestimate yourself; explore your uncharted potential. If you’re reading this, take this road without hesitation.
Reaching the 10th loops with great consistency and determination, felt the need to treat myself so found a place and unwrapped the parathas from their silver foil packaging, the taste of butter and pickle was simply exquisite.
Everything seems exceptionally delicious in these remote places. It’s hard to tell if it’s the sensitivity of my taste buds or simply the gratitude for having food in such remote locations that makes food this delicious or may be it might be genuine love of locals cooking food.
Naval Commander at Rescue:
Resuming my ride with the same strategy, I reached the 17th loop. Pausing for a breather, I grabbed a snack of Parle-G(oats & berries) biscuits, my usual these days. As I started munching on them, faraway I see a jeep parked and next to it a man in his red jacket waving at me.
He’s a Veteran, a Naval commander from the Indian army, as I cycled towards the jeep, veteran asked if he could interview me for his YouTube channel. Thrilled to meet someone in this challenging terrain, I nodded in agreement.
Calling out his driver to fetch a bunch of energy bars from the jeep’s trunk, the last of his reserve, he offered them to me. After a brief interview, we had a friendly exchange and parted our ways.
However, before departing, I shared my dad’s contact with him, asking him to give my family a heads-up that I was doing fine, knowing there’d be no network for the next two days.
Ghost Temples Surprise:
Arriving at the 19th loop, I spotted a small temple surrounded by stacks of water bottles and offerings of snacks and alcohol. Intrigued by the scene, I approached, initially assuming it might be a tradition of goodwill among fellow travelers.
However, I later learned the true story behind this temple, which I’ll be detailing in an upcoming article, an account you won’t want to miss.
Encounter With the Indian Army:
As I approached what I thought was the end of this demanding route, I was stumbled by a long line of Indian army trucks, just like the one in the morning. They were at a standstill due to a breakdown in the lead truck.
Got down the bike , had a good chat with the soldiers and then hopped back on , feeling a bit refreshed although a tad nervous as I was unaware of Nakila Pass ahead, which means further uphill ahead.
Engaging in conversations with people is my preferred stress reliever during the mountain rides. The risks of mountain traffic demand constant alertness, which prevents me from relishing music.
Covering the distance from Sarchu to the 21 loops was only about 30 kilometers, but the steep inclines made it incredibly challenging, especially while biking with 40 KG behind. It amplified the effort significantly.
Nakeela Pass(at 15547 FT):
I view pain as a path to personal growth, akin to fire shaping iron; the less I fear it, the more I appreciate the journey and connect with nature.
Reaching the 12km mark to Nakeela was incredibly painful , but it marked the beginning of a breathtaking downhill journey through these majestic Himalayas.
Heading downhill, my body barely generated heat, as there was little activity beyond gripping the brake levers. The freezing winds and low temperatures left my hands numb without any internal warmth. As the descent continued, shivers and aches set in, hinting at the risk of hypothermia.
Amidst the solitude of these breathtaking mountains, I can’t deny the sense of freedom I’ve experienced, despite the slight discomfort. As the chill persisted, I spotted three massive tents resembling the ones I’ve stayed at Zing Zing Bar. Without hesitation, I hurried toward one.
Battling Hypothermia at Whiskey Nala:
Looking at my state, the lady hosting the place hurried to light up the chimney, a sizable steel drum made for that purpose. As she added wood and ignited it, the warmth eased my discomfort while I sat beside it, enjoying the hot coffee she offered.
As I sat by the fire, I was joined by a group of truck drivers heading to Leh, some of them on army duty. After a pleasant chat and learning bit of Haryanvi from them , excused myself to answer my rumbling stomach.
The name “Whiskey Nala” appears to blend Ladakhi’s meaning of “Nala” as a stream or small river with the availability of whiskey, often sought after for its warming properties in the cold climate of Ladakh. I figured this out chatting with locals but authenticity of this may vary.
Man Made Cocoon to Ignorant Bikers:
Unfortunately, the soup didn’t seem to help, and I began shivering again, feeling incredibly weak , might be from the bitterly cold downhill ride. Thankfully, the host’s husband arrived and insisted I lay down in the allocated bed.
He covered me with layers of thick blankets to restore my body temperature. At the moment I felt immense gratitude for the people I was meeting and the unforgettable memories I was creating. It made me ponder that perhaps the world isn’t as negative as its portrayed in the media.
I was slowly getting comfortable and body temperature back to normal , right then I’ve started to hear the thumps of bullet , not one but several, curious me wanted to know if I have company tonight.
Craving for something more to eat , I emerge from the cocoon of blankets only to see close to ten bikers around and one sitting next to me puking all at once , making me realize the cruelty of Ladakh towards the unprepared.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed my Dal Chawal while chatting with these inexperienced bikers who seemed entirely unprepared, evident from their use of plastic covers instead of proper rain jackets.
At their request, I provided some medicines from my first aid kit and then settled back into my well-prepared cocoon for the night, and slowly dozed off to sleep all the while sympathizing with the bikers’ situation.