Woke up refreshed in the spooky room, and got the bike ready although a bit nervous about the back tyre situation, but also excited for the famous moraine plains ahead, and a little relaxed after I was informed the route ahead had no peaks until Debring.
After having a tummy full of Dal chawal, and gaining enough carbs for the next 50 KM I was all set to go, just then I happened to see a cyclist slowly climbing towards Pang, his from Kerala aka God’s own country, and happened to be my saviour of the day.
“Hey, bro!” I shouted, eager to hear his story and confident he’d have the right cycling pump. He shared his incredible journey almost cycling across the Western Ghats of India, spanning several states and concluding in Manali. As a noob, I couldn’t help but fantasize about the romantic adventure it must have been.
With his assistance, the air pressure is set, and I feel confident as I prepare to take on the stunning moraine landscapes ahead. I’m ready to embrace every moment of my journey through this captivating no man’s land.
As I kept riding, the gradual slope of the road felt tough and monotonous. Despite feeling tired, I wondered where all the energy from my dal and rice had gone.
Stopping for a break on a beautiful plain, I enjoyed some delicious kismiss, a sweet treat I hadn’t had in days. It brought a moment of joy before I got back on my bike.
Lost in the desert’s quiet, I suddenly felt a strong gust of wind. I initially ignored it, but then I noticed tiny whirlwinds forming nearby.
Before I knew it, one grew huge only to push me towards the other side of the Highway. Just about then I see a motorcyclist heading towards me, if it’s not for the biker who revved the engine to avoid the crash which was a narrow miss.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally stopped to catch my breath and process what I had just experienced. As I gazed out onto the peaceful yet intimidating desert landscape, I noticed a much larger whirlwind swirling in the distance, sending a shiver down my spine. I silently wished I had stayed far away from its path.
After covering nearly 48 kilometres, I stumbled upon a small homestay. Despite knowing that Debring was still a few kilometres away, my exhaustion got the best of me, and I decided to call it a day. Negotiating a bed for the night at 150 rupees, I assured the hosts that I had consumed plenty of food, convincing them that I was worthy of their hospitality.
Sitting outside, I savoured a cup of chai served by my hosts, feeling the tension ease from my muscles as I slowly removed my cycling gear and stretched my weary legs. It was a moment of pure relaxation after a day filled with unexpected twists and turns.
This dhaba is managed by a husband and wife, with their four kids studying in Leh, far away from their home. They visit occasionally during holidays, while their parents stay busy earning in the seasonal tourism industry. This is a common scenario in many hamlets, starting from Manali.
Living in cities, we’re accustomed to nuclear families, often able to meet our parents daily or spend quality time with them. But for these families, achieving basic needs means enduring emotional and physical strain.
When you pay for food here, it might seem expensive at first glance. However, considering the extreme temperatures they endure, the logistical challenges they face, and the discipline required to ensure travellers’ safety in harsh weather, it’s truly commendable.
Another fascinating aspect of the homestay was the presence of yak fur lying around. When I inquired, I found the lady of the house busy weaving a shawl out of yak wool. I admire how these people multitask, practice sustainability, and exhibit patience. They’re not just great hosts; they’re resourceful and resilient individuals.
With my cash running low, I turned to my host for advice. She suggested asking fellow travellers for help. Spotting another dhaba a few meters away, I ventured inside and luckily found a local who had both a hotspot and cash to spare.
With the immediate issue resolved, I used the hotspot to inform my loved ones that I was safe. It made me realize the importance of having reliable connectivity, especially in remote areas like this.
Note to self: Get a local SIM or at least opt for a Jio postpaid plan before venturing into hilly regions next time.
Back at my cosy homestay, I enjoyed a delicious hot meal of dal chawal. It got me thinking: in this chilly environment, even answering nature’s call isn’t easy. Yet, the villagers here have large families: four to five kids each! I wonder how what a great impact these people could make if they were down south.
As I settled into bed, had to answer to the nature. Stepping outside into the darkness, I was greeted by the most stunning sight: a sky filled with twinkling stars and the mesmerizing dance of the pole stars. It was a moment of pure awe before I finally drifted off into a peaceful sleep.