Apples to Apricot – Cycling Expedition from Manali to Leh
“Let us roll our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.”
Andrew Marvell
Why do people travel afar? Why do people leave their home and hearth? Why do people seek an experience that thrills? One of the most prosaic answers to describe an intriguing sense of restlessness in human beings and their innate desire to explore is from the ace mountaineer, George Mallory. In a retort to constant quizzing on why people climb mountains, he replied, “Because it is there.”
It is possible that the restless gene coupled with the curiosity to explore the unknown and look far beyond from what is visible is responsible for making us human. Half a million years ago, this restlessness pushed us to leave the savannah grasslands of East Africa and explore the entire world; travel a far to the vastness of deserts and scale lofty heights of mountains; sail to the other world beyond oceans and ice. And, one day, we may leave planet earth and seek a new terra firma.
But then again, why would a motley group of bankers, consultants, doctors, good- for- nothing media guys, wanna-be politicos decide to undertake an arduous task of cycling from Manali to Leh? Perhaps, a mid-life crisis, a drop in dopamine and serotonin, could have played a role in the ennui that we were experiencing.
It would be a travesty if it could only be linked to our mid-life crisis. Was there something more to it? Were we looking to re-connect with our restless genes? Were we forging a link to our Polynesian ancestors who were exploring the Pacific in canoes? Whatever may be our individual reasons, it was quite extraordinary to try to live a very ordinary life of cycling and little else for eight days and bond with fellow travellers over the most basic humdrum of life. In this journey it is possible that we may have discovered some inner reservoir of strength, some inner peace in the serenity of the lower Tibetan plateau, some clarity for our larger purpose or very simply an ability to zone out for a long stretch of time and just focus on the next immediate effort.
Most people look at it in terms of endurance efforts and sheer physical demand of such a journey. The unfathomed part of such travel is the extraordinary demand it places on emotional make-up of the individual. In that sense alone, it is an inward journey, even if the outward manifestation is the physical distance one cycled, the hours clocked or the altitude that one gained.
In our cycling expedition, we passed thru 5 passes – Rohtang at 13051 feet, Baralach La at 16732 feet; Nakkee La at 15748 feet; Lachlung La at 16732 feet and highest pass Taklang La at 17480 feet. Various rivers – Beas at Manali, Chandra at Sissu, Rumtse at Lato and finally Indus at Leh – became our silent companions. We left the pine trees, meadows and saw the magnificent desolation of the Tibetan plateau. Clear blue skies at upper Himalayas presented a picture of quiet serenity. And the panoramic view at Sarchu and Tsokar lake were just awe inspiring.
This was not an easy ride by any stretch of imagination. Everyday, we cycled for 5-7 hours. What made it difficult was the high altitude (less oxygen meant that you were always gasping), ever changing weather (from sharp sun to rains to snow flakes to wind-chill meant that you were either over-layered or unprepared) and unpredictable roads (from freshly laid metal roads to sheer boulders meant a bone rattling downhill ride). All of us had our favorite section that we enjoyed and then there were sections that proverbially broke the camel’s back. Climb from Upper Zingzingbar to Baralach La sucked the wind out of me but I didn’t find the dreaded switchbacks of Gata Loop that much of a killer and I felt nice on the final climb of Choglamsar at Leh.
There was a slow rhythm to everything that we attempted there. It was as if we had been pushed back in time. There was no phone, no TV, no Internet and nothing clamoring for our instant attention. For me, it started with a visit to the local post office at Manali. I wrote an inland letter to my daughter from there and tried to tell her about my reasons for taking trips like this.
There is nothing heroic about the expedition. Riders who were disciplined and well prepared did well. There was an element of altitude and it affected all of us in a unique way.
“Bravery is gradual accumulation of discipline.”
Buzz Aldrin
Jaideep called it a self-assembled group where there was only one degree of separation among us; it was fortuitous that on a long, strenuous trip we got along famously. Some aspect of group dynamics and individual eccentricities left an indelible mark on me. It was a delight to see the camaraderie in the Barclays group. It’s difficult to see such an uninhibited exchange of banter in a corporate group. It was refreshing and reaffirmed one’s faith that it’s possible to mix regular work and serious fun.
It was incredible that there was so much to learn from and admire in each and everybody of this mad group. Kaka (Dr. Anant Joshi) was the find of this trip for me. It was not an impetuous statement when I told him that I would like to grow old like him. There was an old, quaint charm to Kaka – from a beatific, avuncular smile to unhurried cycling pace to taking total pride in Abhishek’s achievement to carefree dance on Roxette, ‘She got the Look’, number. He was a true revelation.
Jaideep, our gritty leader gave it a hundred percent. Later in Leh, Jaideep spent long time listening to Ashok. Here was a guy who could lead a large MNC bank and with equal aplomb sit and listen to the woes of our ace cycle mechanic in a true egalitarian manner. Lawrence got baptized on the Tibetan plateau. To see him being quietly observant and in an unfamiliar, foreign setting not complaining about anything was a case study on assimilation. Quiet and uncomplaining in his demeanor, Abhay was a study in contrast. Serene on his cycle but a total laugh-riot the moment he was out of the saddle. Thankfully, I had no medical experience with Aditya but I would be willing to put the last wager on his success as a true stand-up comedian. This A&A (Abhay and Aditya) gang had no idea that every evening, their non-stop jokes helped all of us in unwinding from a tortuous ride. “It’s humbling to take on an expedition like this and makes our life richer”, was the succinct observation from Rohit to describe our ride. Chander was our true, Delhi-da-puttar in his bright red jacket. Push introduced me to this mad group. He went way beyond his limits and I enjoyed his success more than he might have on this trip. He really pushed the envelope on the penultimate day when he wasn’t well but he stuck on with Kaka and completed the tortuous ride Taklang La ride with a beaming smile. Abhishek was the true NKOTB. Kapila was a garlic-smelling friend, philosopher and guide. And what can I say about Arun? I could only see eighty-five kilos of a sensitive, caring muscle man. I would not be able to forget Nik going back and completing Baralach La loop on the rest day. Prashant was the first serious cyclist I met many years back. His conversations in Hindi with an American accent with Pandeyji were the stuff that we could entertain our grand children. Mayuresh holding the truck and going up the hill was a sight to behold. And Jayesh was not only a great cyclist and tour organizer but also a fabulous human being.
What could you carry from a trip like this? That there was a time and space where we lived true. We were like a group of Samurai warriors and our cycles were our very own Katana. Our spandex wear became our kimono and we lived with a simple creed of doing our daily tasks and soldier on in the pristine environment. For a few days, we could leave everything behind. Amidst tall, majestic mountains we represented the true human spirit. And the song that kept going in my head was…
It’s my life
And its now or never
‘Cause I ain’t gonna live forever
I just want to live while I am alive…
