A Ladakh Bike Trip with Thrillophilia That Turned Saurav’s World Around
I could see the folds and the edges of the mountains at Umling La. As I attempted to lean on my bike, the freezing steel frame of the Himalayan indicated to me not to. This was not a place to rest for long, the oxygen saturation was very low and I could see that my travel partner was starting to face some issues. I quickly went to our trip Marshal Dawa and he took out a nebuliser from his backpack immediately.
All the riders of the batch agreed to get down as soon as possible because the weather was getting colder every minute. It was August, and the weather was unpredictable at that height.
Besides all this trouble, my heart was still racing like a Ferrari. How could I rule out the fact that I was standing on the highest motorable pass in the world- The Umling La…!
But feelings sometimes need to be controlled, and more focus should be put on the practical requirements of a situation. As of that moment, it was necessary for us to ride down to a lower height. We rode back to Hanle and spent the night there. I wished to visit the Space observatory, but our marshall informed us that due to bad weather, it would be useless to go there at night.
It was the last day of the trip to Leh Ladakh, and we had a long way to go till Leh. I knew it was the last day of me riding this beautiful beast of a bike, which I had named Basanti. It was special, and in that ride, I revisited all the moments that I had spent in Ladakh over the last few days.
The Final Ride
As we started our bikes altogether, the surrounding valley seemed to echo the roar of the engines, as if bidding goodbye to us with a heavy heart.
We were led by Thrillophilia’s on-ground support team. Dawa was at the front, Lahawang was in the middle, and Jigmet was at the end. The brown rugged mountains flew by and the electric cold air was beating on my face so hard that I had to squint my eyes. After climbing down to the plain land, I took off the sunglasses and closed my eyes for a moment.
I could see the flashbacks of the day I first landed in Leh, a timid and introverted guy who was visiting Ladakh for the first time. I had seen the pictures and imagined for a long time how it would feel to ride a bike on that terrain, and now that the trip was coming to an end, I could not help but feel nostalgic.
This trip had altered my life, and my outlook on myself and the world. I was now more accepting of myself. Ladakh had made me stronger as a human, as a person, as an individual.
Companions you can sit in silence with
We stopped for lunch at Chumthang Valley. While savouring some Thukpa, I realised, the riders around me were not my only companions, there was the Indus River, the Shyok River, the Zanskar River and the grand valleys witnessing our adventure at every point! And, perhaps the wind was the carrier of the news of what happened with us!
Why did this thought run through my mind?
Good question.
The answer is, throughout the ride, I felt more closer to nature than anybody around me. Not that I did not make friends or talk to people, but there is a subtle difference between talking and communicating. I think nature is more about the latter.
My friend was riding alongside me, and we had known each other for 14 years now. We both were together, but at the same time, we took our own spaces. I really appreciated this. We both needed some time on our own because the circumstances under which we had left for Ladakh were quite troublesome.
But let's not go down that road.
The Brilliance of the Mundane
There occurred an incident in the Leh market where I was buying some shawls- a person started arguing with the vendor about the value of the Ladakhi craft. He said, “We can get it anywhere now, get it parcelled to anywhere, even in better quality. Importing things is also quite easy nowadays. It is not worth it buying anything from here at such high prices”
I did not feel any tingling sensation in my stomach then. But the mere thought of this conversation on my last ride in Ladakh made me nauseous. Over the last few days, I have learnt that life in Ladakh is seriously difficult. Tourism has its pros and cons, but whatever the consequences are, the locals have to suffer.
When we entered Leh in the evening, the sight of the city mesmerised me. I was happy, and the first thing I did was head right to a very mundane local restaurant, order some butter tea, Skyu and Tingmo, and sit there looking at all those passersby. The restaurant was not that flashy, but on the first day of my arrival here I found this place to be comforting.
Well, everyone does not have an eye for finding the coals that bear diamonds. Perhaps that is why this restaurant remained mostly filled with locals and not tourists.
The next morning
While leaving for the airport, our trip marshall came to my room and handed me a pebble. He said,
“Take this home, it will remind you of the game of stone skipping we played in Pangong Lake”
I did not expect it.
We surely had a lot of fun in Nubra Valley and in Sham Valley including river rafting and ATV riding, but instead of all those “big” adventures, he decided to remind me of stone skipping.
And then it dawned upon me- while we were riding from the Magnetic Hill to Gurudwara Pathar Sahib, Dawa had told me, “Nature has its own way of surprising and safeguarding us. And the people of Ladakh live in harmony with nature. That is why the place is always so beautiful, so peaceful, so soulful. This is because there is mutual respect. And it is very important to uphold THAT, not any other sport or activity, but what you give back to nature, how you treat it”
I knew then, that it is always what you give that you get back. And there is no shame in it. Just acceptance.
Read More: Thrillophilia Leh Ladakh Bike Trip Reviews