Day 12 :
As I bid farewell to the wonderful souls I’d met at Dharamshala, my journey towards Kullu began, tracing the familiar NH3 route. Pedaling down the road, just a few kilometers into the descent, nature unveiled one of its grandest spectacles.
A huge mountain stood in front of me, Its slopes were trimmed, allowing milky white waters to cascade, tumbling and weaving through the crevices. The view was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It marked my very first encounter with such a stunning waterfall during this journey.
From Puncture to Confidence:
At present, there’s a concern looming in my mind—I’m equipped with only two spare tubes, and unfortunately, only one of them is in condition. In the worst-case scenario, encountering multiple straight punctures would leave me stranded amidst the mountains.
Rather than taking that risk , I stopped at a truck mechanic’s workshop , where I see workers busy with their tasks. Nonetheless, with their aid and the available tools, I managed to mend the punctured tube. Now, having two fully operational tubes, my confidence in conquering the dusty and rugged terrains of the NH3 has risen.
About to depart, a truck driver approached me, offering me a ride to Manali or Leh. However, I felt it would defeat the whole purpose of my journey.
In the world of travel, it’s the encounters and experiences throughout, that shape the essence of the journey which I didn’t want to miss taking a shortcut. Politely, I declined the offer.
Adventures of Aut Tunnel:
After cycling 20 kilometers, I reached the famous Aut Tunnel, the only gateway to the Kullu-Manali stretch. With little to no illumination and unguarded, safety is paramount here. I paused to put on a reflector jacket and activated a tail flashlight, ensuring my visibility throughout the 3-kilometer stretch. Every Cyclist must prioritize visibility and take such precautions to reduce the risks encountered at such time.
Though passing through the the tunnel was initially intimidating, it delivered an exhilarating adrenaline rush which I thoroughly enjoyed. Observing fellow drivers maintaining a cautious yet decent speed was something unexpected. Perhaps it was due to the narrow road accommodating two-way traffic , or maybe my reflectors worked.
Crossing the the tunnel I’ve noticed two things : one GPS takes a pause in these tunnel , two I lost my expensive quick dry towel which I hooked onto rear carrier , what a stupidity , now I have to get another one.
Riding downhill towards Kullu, approximately 20km away, the satisfaction was palpable. The glimpse of breathtakingly huge water cascades, the uphill climbs until the tunnel, and now from here on lay a disappointingly flat, busy road. After which I realized my preference for challenging yet serene routes over plain roads buzzing with traffic.
The Lively Local and His Apple of Joy:
Upon finally arriving in Kullu, I chose a Dharmashala over the Gurudwara, hoping for a familiar and comfortable stay, but found the location near to the main road , inconvenient with scarce parking and rooms priced higher than expected. However, the day took a turn when I met a lively local vendor.
Despite being in his 60s, his infectious joy brightened the moment as he handed me an apple as sweet as his spirit. Chatting with him, I mentioned my desire to camp in a serene spot. He directed me to an apple orchard across the road, a place for Truck Driver Association members, which required cycling back and climbing a flyover adding an additional 4Km to my journey today. As a good gesture bought some apples from my friend and left.
Beas’ Caring Fury:
However I had to cycle 9Km to reach the place , initially disappointed looking at the desolate, sandy terrain with no sign of life , not giving up pushed through gravel ,sandy terrain only to discovered the hidden gem—a riverside campsite, nestled by the Beas River, where the truck drivers set up their camp.
When people ask me why I do this, I tell them it’s the unpredictability of travel and the unexpected encounters that I’m in love with, often leading to a hidden treasures , provided we persist. Just like my bike packing expedition, out life’s too revolves around uncertainty and unexpected encounters.
As the night unfolded , I found myself asking the union members for a simple favor – to allow me to camp close to the roaring Beas. With a trusty head torch , I made my way to the riverbank, yearning for a soul-soothing bath , she looked so furious yet beautiful and caring in its own way just like a mother figure.
As darkness settled in, my new friends invited me into the dhaba, insisting I join them for a drink, an offer I politely declined. While observing their conversations, a slight unease crept in, but with no alternative, I had to stay.
Eventually, they served me roti and curry, after a while, I stepped outside to gaze at the night sky adorned with breathtaking stars, one true blessing if you’re close to the Himalayas. At that moment, I couldn’t help but wish my tent had a transparent top.