Magical Snowy Land:
In this quiet Indian village, my usual morning routine took an unexpected turn. Rushing out for nature’s call, I noticed something strange, yesterday’s sandy mountains had disappeared, replaced by a magical fog.
Rubbing my eyes, I realized it wasn’t my imagination, it had snowed overnight! The entire place had turned into a snowy wonderland. Everything around me was covered in a blanket of snow. It was like stepping into a fairy wonderland.
Remembering one of my Himalayan vacations as a child: crowded, messy and polluted by tourists from all around. But now, it’s fresh untouched and me all alone in this vast stretch of never-ending white snowy land.
Despite the freezing chill, I found joy in the moment, transforming into a carefree child playing in the snow. I happily wrote names and scribbled on tables, oddly not feeling the chill yet.
Stuck in the Blizzard:
Although all that joy did not last long, watching the lives of my hosts, who got busy clearing incessantly accumulated snow on tents, a must-do task to ensure the comfort of the tourists and save the precious rations being their primary source of income.
I might not make it to Debring today due to blizzard-like weather since morning, also the Mountain pass: Lachungla ahead will make cycling tough. So following my host’s advice, I’ve decided to wait until the snowfall stops.
Weather Show No Mercy:
It was 10 AM, finishing my breakfast I saw no change in weather was still the same, I was starting to hear all kinds of rumours, about road blockages and the worsened climate at the peak. My host recommended staying the night, but I was adamant about cycling to the next destination today, come what may.
Later, I encountered a soldier who kindly offered a ride to Leh on his truck. But decided to decline, As you might know: I’m a Bikepacker, not a hitchhiker and I was determined to cycle through this route come what may.
Lachungla Here I Come:
Nevertheless, I spoke to a few bikers who had just arrived from Debring, and they assured me, stating that although the route was challenging, it wasn’t impossible to traverse.
Those words gave me hope, and I decided to skip the Debring plans for now but today’s destination changed to Pang being just 25 kilometres away from here. But tackling Lachungla (peak), 7 km away here is the real challenge.
Gruelling Steeps:
The continuous snowfall, the gradual decline of oxygen and the steep incline of the path as I reach the peak, for the next 7 KM is the task at hand. I decided to follow my instincts.
As I was pedalling, I witnessed a whole new world, these innocent brown sandy Himalayas were being transformed into the most aggressive and ferocious white godly form, It made me realize why people praise the Himalayas – their unpredictability and spiritual charm make them truly special.
The 2 KM Infinite Loop:
A few kilometres away from the peak, I struggled to breathe. It was the first time I had to get down my bike and push with every ounce of energy left within. I could hear my heart thumping, each step demanded deep breaths and started to suffocate, but was in no mood to give up.
I came across a truck carrying a load of mountain bikes, probably touring guides, they stopped to ask if I needed any assistance, it was so kind of them but then I believed I was well equipped, so thanked them and kept moving consistently to not break the flow.
Never Back Down:
It seemed as if a massive weight was strapped to my chest, making these last few meters seem impossible to conquer. Doubts about my choices crept in. Amidst this struggle, army personnel from his jeep signalled me to go back, while fellow travellers, particularly those in a nearby bus, cheered me on.
No turning back now. I couldn’t let go of all the struggle for nothing. It’s true, that life’s greatest decisions often arise from immense pain. I pushed forward knowing pain and fear are a mere habit of the mind: something Vipassana meditation had taught me.
I was focused, and determined to reach the peak, no matter the obstacles. Finally, In the distance, I see it, a yellow structure against the backdrop of white. I had made it to Lachungla (peak): 16,600 feet! above sea level.
The Bikers Sorrow:
Overwhelmed with joy, I started dancing amidst the snowfall. The oxygen was still low, but the scenery was worth celebrating. I had to seize the moment and etch this memory for a lifetime.
After some lighthearted fun, taking pictures, and relishing the moment, I noticed a biker in a tough spot, almost on his knees, taking off gloves to warm his hands by the silencer. Concerned, I intervened, offering my precious backup hot water. Once reassured that he was alright, I continued my journey down the slope from here on.
A Convention of Comradarie in Ladakh:
The Ladakh route is more than just a journey; it’s a shared bond among travellers. We embark on this extraordinary adventure fully aware of its risks. There are no safety nets: no family, hospitals, or police. It’s solely us, fellow explorers, relying on each other’s compassion and help.
I vividly remember that moment I was stranded in the middle of the desert, thirsty and all my bottles empty. If those youngsters hadn’t cared, what would have happened to me, thinking of it now shivers creep down my spine.
The Dirty Downhill
The downhill ride post-peak has breathtaking landscapes, but it is full of challenges. The road condition, particularly from Whiskey Nala to Pang, is a nightmare: it’s less of a road and more of potholes.
To add to the adventure, my rear tyre issue persisted and now my portable inflator stopped working. Felt as if someone is trying to test my patience, I see a terrible stretch ahead with river crossings and worse muddier paths.
The Bikers Help:
Luckily I stumbled upon a biker gang and sought their help to try and fix the rear tyre. Looking back, I regret not seeking assistance from the mountain bike truck I came across earlier, they must have had the right gear.
Nevertheless, after overcoming similar hurdles, a plain cement road emerged, leading me slightly uphill until a green signboard named Pang finally came into view, a much-welcomed sight.
The Respite of Pang:
Cycling through the village, a lady from the first house down the highway signalled for me to stop. Upon inquiry, I learned that it was a homestay also offering food.
I had to navigate down an elevated highway about 6ft above the homestay and this was a hamlet on either side of the road. Carefully handling my heavy bike, I cautiously manoeuvred, tightly gripping the brakes until I reached the entrance.
The homestay appeared quite satisfying, different from my previous accommodations, constructed with bricks and mortar, unlike the sturdy tent in Whiskey Nala or the mud-supported Tint-layered stay in Sarchu.
Ladakh on a Basic Motorcycle:
Opting for a comforting bowl of hot Maggie, the cheapest option on the menu, as I planned to have a larger meal later. With daylight still around, I started checking my rear tube.
While doing so, I noticed another youngster, possibly my age, racing toward the opposite Hotel on a very basic motorbike. I was intrigued by how he managed such stunts on these roads with that kind of engine.
The Spooky Bedroom With a Skull
The husband of the lady guided me to an adjacent room, its entrance dark and somewhat spooky with a skeleton-like structure, and to add to the atmosphere, there was a hair attached to it. When I inquired, he mentioned something about it symbolizing good luck.
Inside, the room was adequate, with enough layers to shield me from the unforgiving cold of the region, all for just 150/-. One peculiar aspect of Ladakh is you rarely feel the urge to bathe, and here are two good reasons: the weather is bone-chilling, and the water is painfully cold.
Bathing Here is Forsaken:
Expecting hot water in these remote villages is fancy, as the regions barely have enough energy, relying solely on a solar panel, something common I’ve noticed in these regions.
Curious, I asked my host about their bathing scene in the region. She laughed, remarking that it would be foolish to bathe here as it could make one sick. Then, she casually added, “We only bathe when we go to Leh. And I was left wondering how often the locals go to Leh.
Biking Ladakh on a Basic Motorcycle:
After everything settled, around 5 PM, I savoured the last rays of sunshine. As I sat out enjoying the warmth, I noticed the young man who had rushed into the Dhaba now coming out to work on his motorcycle. I greeted him with a wave and a smile.
He had travelled from Tamil Nadu on a basic bike (Passion Pro). These bikes in India are typically used for short commutes, so undertaking such a long journey on this machine is no simple task.
Communication was a bit challenging as he could only speak in Tamil. Despite the language barrier, we made an effort to communicate. Interestingly, my admiration for Vijay Sethupathi’s(Tamil Movie Star) acting seemed to make him incredibly happy.
If you’re wondering who Vijaysethupathi was you must watch this clip, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with the Indian Film, exclusively the southern ones.
Dinner With the Indian Army:
At 7 PM, feeling hungry, I headed to the nearby homestay and knocked on its tightly closed door, which is understandable in this biting cold. Upon entering, I found a group of soldiers, around 5 to 6 members inside having dinner.
While I chewed my veg meal, one of the soldiers asked, “Kaha se ho?” (“Where are you from?”) I replied, “Hyderabad,” and that marked the beginning of our delightful time together in the Dining.
We had a great time exchanging stories. At one point, I asked why they were dining here instead of at the army canteen. They explained that all the food at their camp is frozen: vegetables, meat, everything…which naturally made the food less appealing.
Soldiers Praise and Help:
I noticed they were having a video call with their families, and one soldier focused his camera on me explaining to his wife about my cycling expedition with pride, I couldn’t help but blush. Hearing such words from a soldier felt more rewarding than any award.
After our conversation flowed more smoothly, I gathered the courage to ask if they could share their hotspot so I could assure my family of my safety among the majestic Himalayas. As I had no signal for the past two days, I was ignorant enough to not purchase the local Jio sim.
Back to Bed Post a Warm Farewell:
I had a great video call with my family. However, the cold outside became unbearable, so I bid them goodbye and retreated indoors. Despite not usually being very attached to my family, this isolation sometimes makes me yearn for their affection.
Finishing our meals, we bid each other farewell. As we exchanged salutes, I watched them board their jeep. The revolving canvas of lights on top of the jeep cut through the darkness, and slowly, the white vehicle vanished into the night.
I made my way back to my eerie yet comfortable abode, carefully manoeuvring past the hairy skeleton at the entrance.