Day 4: The descent to Chamba

The next morning, we headed down a seemingly never-ending 113km to the more tropical climes of Chamba. Despite a rainy start we enjoyed having gravity on our side and whizzed through at least 5 vegetation zones: high altitude, flower meadows, alpine, deciduous forest and sub-tropical. Although downhill (mostly) it took a good 7hrs30 of surprisingly hard work. I have always found cycling at lower altitudes much tougher as  besides the much hotter temperatures, the humidity is so high and feels a lot harder than cycling higher, in 02-thin air at cooler, drier temps.

Lush and bountiful we relished most of the 113km down from 4400m to Chamba some 3000m below!

More magnificent meadows as we descended to the plains

One of my favourites, the light blue poppies.

.

Exquisite and memorizing views.

Once again dwarfed by the landscapes – down into the deciduous with an abundance of himalayan mountain dew.

We descended for about 20ks before seeing the first villages.

Breakfast stop, chilli omelette and ‘Slice’ mango juice.

Our ‘friends’ were already tucking into their purchases from the “English beer & wine shop” – more like pure whiskey!

More fabulous descent.

Himalayan villages shed new light on the meaning of ‘accessible’.

Clothes collage.

Glad to be back on bitumen.

Sweat-drenched another coke stop was in order.

The outskirts of the tropical town of Chamba known for its impressive number of temples.

The final 20 km into Chamba involved a rather sneaky 7km climb, just to ensure we would never get to comfortable at 996m. Here is the cricket oval at Chamba, one of the many relics of the British Raj.

Farewell to the Himalayas, a 14hr bus drive back to Dehli via Pathankot marked the end of another fabulous trip.

Day 3: Finally, Crossing Sach Pass (4400m)

This is the toughest and most epic pass I have ever cycled. Although not as high as many of the other himalayan passes, Sach is steep! So steep that in many instances I resorted to pushing. It took me 7hrs30 to cycle 32km of up from 2200m to 44oom, (although the total days ride was actually 8hr30  (58km) taking into account the first 11km were downhill and then the 14km descent to the police check point over the other side).  While it was supremely tough it was also utterly stunning, and therefore will remain one of my favourites.

Just over half way, another 14km would take me 3hrs to finally summit Sach!

Shortly after our staple breakfast, a parantha and omlette, we dropped for 11km down from Killar to meet the and cross over the Chandrabhagga. Its hard to photograph steepness but this photo gives some sense of the gradient we were about to grind our way up.

The pass is a relatively new road built just over 10 years ago which has shortened the distance from Killar to Chamba (the main town in the area) by about 500km! The pass is open from June to mid October

Peeking over the edge: bits of the road on the left and the right.

Optical illusion – this wasn’t really flat!

Me the spot on the way to the top.

Have never been able to keep up with Carlos, always bringing up the rear.

A roadworker’s goatie to greet me. I worried for him as I suspect he became supper at some point.

A rare moment – Carlos pushing.

My struggle is lightened by meeting of pretty school girls, Priya and Sunita who were living in the roadworkers camp with their families. The eagerly clambered up the slopes to get a photo of us with their cell phones.

The roadworkers camp below – Priya, Sunita and brother.

Passing frozen snowdrifts that gave me the feeling of cycling through a fridge.

More spectacular road frequently interrupted by cascading waterfalls.

Chilly crossing

Another 12km to go.

My turn. Numbing glacial water.

Worth a few more pics. Ice-scapes that us South Africans don’t see many of.

Chipping away at the kilometres, I was glad to be distracted by carpets of Himalayan flowers like these yellow buttercups.

Buttercups and unknown pinks, its high time I got an ID book.

Later to discover that the flowers were even better on the other side of the pass.

One of my favourites: the bobbly yellows.

Loosing daylight, I still had another 3km to go

The end is nigh, a glimpse of the summit (the little notch). From here to the top ,still took another hour! 

Forced smile, but actually quite happy as really, very nearly at the top!

7h30 after setting off I arrive at the 4400m top, with a small welcoming committee, Carlos and the cab drivers who were busy fixing a puncture.

With dwindling daylight and appalling road surface we headed for the police check point some 14km down our only hope of finding a place to stay (we had no tent).

Astounding views, the pass descends an incredible 130km over 3400m to Chamba at just under 1000m, certainly the longest downhill I have ever descended.

The police check point was no more than a couple of shelters and a disheveled shack that could barely pass as a dhabba. The shack ‘dhabba’ owner was also far from friendly, so clearly sleeping there was hardly an optioin. With no sunlight or energy to continue further to the first village, another 25km away, the young and friendly policemen, Kritik and Guldeep realised that we were in a pickle. Despite their rules of not allowing anyone to stay in their camp, they welcomed us and even had 2 free beds to spare with satellite TV and dinner included (and they didn’t even snore!)

I couldn’t have asked for a better spot – warm and toasty after an awesome day and safe in the hands of some super friendly policemen! Thanks guys! 

Day 2 – to the Sach Pass (Udaipur to Kilar)

For sure this must be one of the most beautiful routes that I have ever cycled.  It took us almost 8hrs to ride the 80km to Kilar for a number of reasons: really tough terrain of unmetaled, stony roads and scenery that we simply had to stop for, every couple of kilometres. The road slithered and climbed along the ever narrowing and harrowing Chandrabhagga river valley.

Leaving Udaipur we cycled through magnificent pine forests

Carlos dwarfed by an incredible Deodar pine speciman.

Road surface rapidly deteriorated, one of the reasons it took us so long to ride the 80ks

One of the many amazing tributaries to the Chandrabhagga that we crossed.

The road was sometimes a river

Awesome blockey geology! (ancient mudstones)

More nice rocks – fabulous metamorphosed sedimentary layers!

Fortunately the road surface improved at times enabling more enjoyment of the blue skies and spectacular valley.

A seemingly never-ending road.

Another fierce tributary.

The traffic on the road was virtually non existent, we were passed by a couple of buses, a handful of jeeps and perhaps 2 trucks. Likewise the valley was relatively sparsely populated not surprising due to the steep valley, with perhaps one village every 30km.

And always abundant, fresh himalayan ‘mountain dew’

I was continually stunned by the magnitude and enormity of the landscape. Spot Carlos if you can.

 

Road workers really do battle against the elements.

Villages are well and truly isolated.

The last 10km really tested my sense of humor, I was exhausted but with views like this, I just had to enjoy it!

Kilar – a welcome site, we made it just in time for evening thali (dal and rice).

On the way to the Sach (Saach) Pass

The Sach (Saach) pass, one of the lesser known passes in Himachal Pradesh has always had a certain allure since friends Cass and Cara had cycled it 6 years before. They had rated it as the most beautiful and challenging they had ever cycled (and they really know the Himalayas). With a bit of back tracking from Leh, we set-off from Keylong and followed the confluence of the Chandra (moon) and Bhagga (sun) rivers which form the great Chandrabhagga (or Chenab) river which flows into Pakistan.

A few kilometres after Keylong we left the Manali Leh highway and followed the mighty Chandrabhagga river (2400m) which cuts through the spectacular Pangi valley.

Day 1 was a gentle and enjoyable ride which contoured all the way to Udaipur village some 57km away

Exquisite quilts of fruit trees, maize, rape seed and potatoes.

A snack stop en route.

My favourite: moong dal ‘crisps’.

It is interesting how one valley can be so different to the next. The Pangi valley is Hindu although there are remnants of Buddhist tradition.

And eventually the valley became to steep for cultivation giving way to the indigenous pine covered slopes.Hard to imagine that this valley is often submerged in 2m of snow in the winter.

Continental town and countries (once upon-a-time my tyre of choice) are certainly aren’t what they used to be. First day cycling with panniers I have a blow-out that rips into the side wall. Luckily we carry a spare Schwalbe marathon that saves the ride (can’t find this quality in SA).

Udaipur is scruffy little town set alongside the raging Chandrabhagga. The main attraction to the town is the Markula Devi Temple (AD 1028) dedicated to the goddess Kali. Somewhat a battered and shack-like wood tiled structure, people come from far and wide to pay their respects to the silver Kali inside. A family of Buddhist Lahuali’s from Gemur near to Keylong were also visiting the landmark site.

The Lahauli’ Newang family stopped for a chat and family photo which I promised to deliver to them in Gemur when I hopefully cycle there next year.

Pretty little miss in her perfectly re-sized Lahauli skirt and bolero.

Best of friends. Sanita and Lapka then joined us outside the temple and entertained each other endlessly with squirting water out of soda bottles. We saw them a few hours later that evening charging up and down the main street with the same endless energy and joy.

High street shops in Udaipur.

Udaipur has even more to offer.

Top class hotel with satellite TV and green walls.This set us back a somewhat relatively inflated Rs400 (R70) but at least I managed to insist that they changed the sheets.

Meeting old and new friends on the Manali Leh Highway

There is always something to look forward to when returning. It may be small changes, like roadside flowers that you had never noticed before. There is also something comforting  in that nothing has changed either, in this case, no mountains have been moved! Then there is the anticipation of meeting old friends again and meeting new ones too.

Last year we visited the remote village of Chumikgiarsa at 4000m,  http://bridgetsbikeblog.wordpress.com/2011/12/19/himalayan-villages-chumikgiarsa-at-4000m/ this year I was eager to return to see Tenzin and her then 10mth old daughter Padme and local grand dad Dom Dom Namgyal.

Insect-like Janet, negotiates her way down the Baralacha-la pass to the plains of Sarcchu where Chumikgiarsa village occurs dot-like beneath a crumbling mass of mountain.

Mesmerized by the colours and magnitude, I never tire of this descent.

Our campsite right beside the Highway, about 2km beyond of Sarcchu dhabba village. An 1.5 hr walk from here to Chumikgiarsa.

Prayer flags adorn the bridge crossing the river. The village is around the folded sedimentary rocks to the right.

Everything was as it was when were here last year. Padme’s house surrounded glacier fed wheat and barley fields. I was then disappointed to learn that she wasn’t at home or in the village for that matter.

Showing a photo of Tenzin and Padme to Tsering, she shook her head and pointed back to Sarcchu.

Dom Dom wasn’t at home either.

And then I spotted him. Way off in the distance a lone figure in the barley fields. “Dom Dom Namgyal”, I called, “Khamzang-in le meme le?’” (how are you grand dad).  Janet managed to take this lovely photo of us meeting dwarfed by the landscape.

It was a precious moment when I handed him the photographs Caroline and I had taken of him last year. He patted me with delight and laughed in appreciation. “Ma  gyalla, ma gyalla!” (very good, very good) I was almost certain it was the first time he had received a photo of himself.

I showed him the pictures of Tenzin, he also pointed to Sarchhu

Shortly Dom Dom’s friend came over to see what all the fuss was about.

Just as before he proudly stood for another photograph, first carefully replacing his hat, patting his hair and making sure his coral and turquoise beads were visible. We will return once more.

Although I have taken so many photos like this, its hard not to appreciate the detail in Ladakhi villages. Here fodder is stored on the rooftop.

Sun baked bricks

or the delicate wetland flowers

or a cute himalayan kid

Back in Sarchhu, I was still on a mission to find ama and nome (mother and daughter). We stopped off at this little dhabba owned by Tsering Tsemo also from Chumikgiarsa to ask her if she knew them. Padme was evidently being looked after by a friend at Dolma dhabba just up the road.

but first of cup of chai.

and some drawing and games with brothers Tenzin Lashe and Tenzin Namtrel

Animals from Africa, a combined effort of Stefan and my artistic skills. Colour them in please!

Thanks Tsering, Tenzin and Tenzin, see you next time!

And there she was. Pretty little Padme wearing the same green jersey she was wearing last year.

Looking at herself and her Ama in the pictures.

Much to her distress I had to wrestle the photos back before they got all crunched!

And finally I found her delighted Ama-le (Tenzin) who was working at the road worker station with her dad. She nearly cried when she saw the pictures, the time when she kindly invited us into her home for tea in Chumikgiarsa.

Roaming Rumi: A Himalayan Dogumentary

‘Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond’ ~ Rumi

Rumi our special boy

This is our 4th year of running bike tours in the Indian Himalayas and I have to say that my enthusiasm and passion for this region has not waned, if anything I love it more every time. We are always so fortunate to have fantastic groups of cyclists, all of whom share a similar passion for adventure, making the trips so different and interesting. This year however, we were graced with a particularly special person who became a firm friend of the entire team and crept into all of our hearts. This is his story. Rumtse (Rumi) is a himalayan hound and a very special one indeed!

The story begins near Tso Kar a high altitude salt pan around 250km from Leh. One glorious morning we set off from our incredible campsite at 4600m  pedaling toward the Taglang-la pass, the highest on the Manali-Leh highway at 5300m. The cycle started gently, following the moray plains in preparation for the big climb that lay ahead.

Soon after petting and feeding this dear roadside pup, we passed some dhabbas (makeshift roadside stops). It was here I noticed a particularly energetic dog who started to sprint alongside Julia and myself. I felt distressed as the climb was about to start and I really couldn’t imagine how this poor guy would manage running up the 17kms to 5300m. Of course I knew he could, I mean he is a himalayan hound after all, but with no breakfast!? I tossed him my chapatis and cheese that I had saved from breakfast, stashed in my bar bag (doubles up as a dogtreats bag). I tried to ignore the fact that we were loosing him as I saw him eventually disappear out of the corner of my eye…..

But Rumi commits to anything he starts. Here he is escourting Stefan in his final fierce kilometres to the top of the Taglang-la.

Our care free companion just loves running with bikes. I later discovered when walking with him through Leh, that he had run with other cyclists prior to him joining us at Tso Kar. So he had come at least 300km and certainly his starting point could have easily been Manali, as according to local folk  ’he certainly isn’t  a ladakhi looking dog so he must have come from Manali’,  some 600km from Leh!

I have been joined by dogs on other trips and so have many cyclists.  There is one thing I am sure they will all agree on, is that it leaves one with a warm fuzzy feeling inside. The instant companionship and admiration I feel is hard to beat!

Stefan couldn’t have shared a more special moment of reaching the pass summit, with anyone better.

So where did he get his name from? The pretty village on the other side of the pass called Rumtse. Rumi makes a nice abbreviation and is also the name of the famous Persian poet and Sufi mystic of the 13th century. Rumi’s influence and importance is said to have transcended borders and cultural differences. As such, Rumi seemed like a very appropriate name for our friend, in all respects.

Of course it wasn’t all running for Rumi. Even he did tire of trying to keep up with a fleet of cyclists descending at 50 km per hour. This is when I begged and pleaded to our support vehicle just to give him a ride for part of the way, I couldn’t bare to loose him. He had committed to us, so I felt we needed to commit to him. Here he is curled up at Carlos’s feet. He wasn’t at all keen on the car and was ever eager to keep on running. In fact we lost him on the descent to Rumtse village and I thought that was the last we would see of him, but I should have known, this was Rumi. Later that afternoon he found us.

Campsite pup.                                                                                                                    “Everything in the universe is within you. Ask all from yourself “~ Rumi

Ready to roll and run once more with Janet.

Following the wine-stained valley to Upshi, we then joined the mighty Indus river and followed it all the way to Leh. Rumi ran and took a few rides in the car too.

Rumi boy finding a scrap of shade to shelter in.

another scrap of shade

…and a cooling swim in the Upshi river.

We arrived in Leh, just in time to see His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Here we are waiting outside the Oriental Guesthouse, with our host family and dog ,Tommy in front of us. Rumi wasn’t too keen on Tommy (understandable!)

Everyone, including abi-le and meme-le (grandmum & dad) were all waiting with baited breathe…

…and in an instant he was there and then he was gone.

Rumi soon started to get used to the city life. A lead was new for him(not keen) and corner cafe’s, he rather enjoyed. In particular he took a fancy to Cafe Jeevan and Gornan, the very kind Sikh owner ,who provided Rumi with many meals. His other favourite hang-out is The Little Cafe. Rumi and owner Dilip have a mutual affection for one another. You are quite likely to find Rumi there right now.

But Rumi is a Himalayan hound and he likes nothing better than to be in his element. We took him on a 3 day hike from Jiangchen to Chilling. He was truly home once more.
“Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of that which you truly love.” ~ Rumi

Our patient and loyal friend would always wait for us

Making friends wherever he goes. Here we picnic with villagers from Rumbak.

Tagi, apricot jam and solcha.

The one and only house at Yuruptse where we stayed for the night.

Ladakhi’s aren’t that keen on dogs as pets, let alone dogs coming into houses. However as per usual Rumi won the heart of Ama-le who had no problem with him spending the night indoors.

Even old meme-le was rather chilled with having a dog in his home. I am quite certain he was the first and probably be the last one!

Peeping Tom: Carlos spied meme-le outside the front of the house, while reciting prayers, using his binocs to spy on Julia some 150m away taking a bucket bath! Cant blame him, there’s not too much happening in Yuruptse.

On top of the 5100m Shingo-la pass. For Rumi it was a breeze.

The view from Nurboo Guesthouse, Upper Changspa.
While we enjoyed more than 2 weeks with our friend, I was beside myself with anxiety about his future. Of course Rumi is a survivor, but we felt responsible and wanted to be as sure as we could about his future. If we left him roaming the streets of Leh, it is almost certain he would eventually get killed by territorial packs of dogs. If they didn’t kill him, the winter would, so many dogs in Leh die each year due to cold and starvation. We (Stefan, Carlos and myself) seriously investigated the option of bringin him home to SA. We spent days researching and eventually found out that we didn’t have enough time. One of the many requirements was that his rabies injection was at least 30 days old. The easier option of finding him a home wasn’t easy at all. Ladakhi’s aren’t dog lovers, but we knew that it would be his only hope. We asked everyone we met for ideas. By this stage Rumi was becoming quite a feature on the streets of Leh, he was noticed and lucky for him he is also very handsome. Eventually we asked our family Guesthouse Nurboo where we always stay after our tour whether they would consider taking him. The Nurboos are a special family and although Rumi was already staying at their house we simply couldn’t presume they would take him, nor did we want them to feel obligated. For them, there was no question, it was as if they knew he was to be theirs.

Rumi’s family – Aba-le (Angchuk), Ama-le  (Laskit)and Dawa of Nurboo Guesthouse.

While worrying about finding homes for Rumste, we  suddenly found we had a few options. I had been asked a few times in the street ‘How much?” However when Rumi introduced us to the very kind Lama Wangchuk Thupstan, we knew he was a serious choice. Wangchuk helped set up the “New Millenium School” 12 years ago which he now over sees. He was captivated by Rumtse and asked us if he could have him, (before  telling him he already had a home). He clearly loved dogs. Here he is with one the school dogs. Wangchuk agreed with me that Rumi was indeed special and could quite possibly be a reincarnation of a Rinpoche. He only differed in that he said that Rumi must have then been, a naughty Rinpoche!

Happy at home

Let sleeping dogs lie.

We still had some unfinished business. Rumi needed his jabs and in the interest of the 1000s of strays, we felt it was only right to have him sterilized.

The more than basic clinic.

But a more than competent and caring vet – Dr Stanzin Regbiz.

Sorry, Rumtse!

Dorje, Kelsang and Dr. Stanzin

This pom-pup needed to be rehydrated.

Back home, Rumi was far from amused. He reacted badly to the anaesthetic and went a bit nuts and incessantly licked his wound which became infected. Fortunately Dawa dad took him back the vet and a few days later he was much better.

Rumi is in kind and caring hands. The morning we left at 5am, he whined knowing that we were going. You taught us so much, special friend of the Himalayas.
                      “Don’t grieve. Everything you lose comes around in another form” ~ Rumi

Some reasons why I like the Himalayas

Its back to Ladakh and these are some of my reasons…

the landscapes

the prayer flags

the people: Ladakhis, Lahualis, Spitians, Tibetans

the sublime cycling opportunities

the sustainable livelihood practices

the dogs

the villages

the high altitude flowers

the colours (and the monastries)

the donkeys

the momos

the monks things

the Buddhist way and the openness

and I like to ride my bike