So its decided. I am going to Leh with a couple of guys. And now comes the crucial part. When exactly, what will be the route, how large should the group be, and most importantly, how do I tell my family that sort of freaks out anytime you mention your holiday plans because they happen to be absurd.
Anytime a totally boss plan like this is proposed to anyone, you can gauge from their reaction what category of Homo Sapiens they belong to:
a) The Flat Earthers: You’re told you are nuts to want to do this on a bike. It’s long, cold, hard (the ride, that is) and not something regular people do. Well, you explain, about a zillion bikers do this every year and it’s no longer viewed as a ride into the valley of death. Then the suggestions: why don’t you fly down…or take a 4-wheel drive? And you say, well…it’s because you like to ride your motorcycle. They look at you like you have finally lost your mind and are some sort of twisted masochist to want to put yourself through this. At this point, the flat Earthers swear to themselves that they will never let you near their women or children. Suggested response - Quit. They will not get it.
b) The Sanchos: You are Don Quixote and the Sanchos want to come with you. They hear of your plan and are so near some sort of pinnacle of sensation usually associated with intense bodily stimulation of the sexual nature, that they will just want to come with (as in accompany) you without thinking through. They decide to forsake their families, jobs and mortgages just for that last chance at regaining lost stud-hood. Now it’s important to know that these folks will not actually ever come along with you. But, their enthusiasm makes you feel good about your plan. Heck, it makes you feel like Christopher Columbus sailing with an unusually cheery crew that would rather devour their own limbs than inconvenience you with a mutiny in case you strand the vessel in the doldrums thanks to your ineptitude, with no hope of getting back. Suggested response - Be nice to them. Involve them in your planning and let them enjoy the ride vicariously.
c) The Vulcans: Usually folks who have done this before or see it as another project that can be consummated with some logical planning and sensible execution. They get down to the details right away. They discuss how many days it will take, what you need to carry and what you should know. Piece it together and the trip is as good as done. Great! Is it that simple? Sure, they say. Just be careful about altitude sickness & the extreme climate. Some people kinda die out there occasionally or have to spend nights in the cold and get their extremities frostbitten. All extremities sometimes. Not to put too fine a point on it, they may even recommend that you freeze your sperm before the trip in case you fancy ever having children once you return, minus a few vital organs. Part of the game. Nervous laughter follows. Suggested response - Seek these people out and get as much info as you can. They will be helpful and know why you want to do this and will coolly tell you what you need to know and what you should know. Thanks to the world-wide web, many of these pioneering folks write useful blogs (unlike this one…no, really).
d) Family: They believe you are an idiot that needs something better to occupy his time like domestic responsibility. You really should be more considerate about how you make your family worry so much and absolutely refuse to grow up. Suggested response - Resort to childish lamenting saying ALL your friends are doing this or that and having a blast. Usually, they react with distaste seeing a grown/groan man sulk like a 5 year old. They will relent and you can beam like you were just made sheriff of toon-town.
Well, there are others like your friends who will help in whatever way they can and a few adventurers who will ride along. The ones to watch out for, are….
e) Satan’s spawn: Mechanics, spare part & accessory dealers, painters and anyone associated with anything to do with outfitting your bike for the trip. Not to be unfair, these guys will actually provide some very useful tips and from experience will make sure you prepare well. But you are also a fat, happy pig to be slaughtered for the feast. They will tempt you. And if you have any sense, you will yield. See, this is the time when apart from the necessary stuff (which you will spend a packet on) you have the opportunity of getting all the upgrades you wanted. So you need the 22 litre petrol tank, but why not get that extra chrome doodah because it’s just so friggin’ pretty. Fix this, but may as well paint that. You need that disc brake, but also that new headlight assembly because it will considerably improve your libido. You are now 6 years old again with a malfunctioning neuro-physiological response system that does not tell your brain when your stomach is full. Consequently, you eat everything on the table, plus 3 helpings of dessert and wake up throwing up all over your bed at 3 am in the morning. Just because you didn’t know when to stop. Soon, you would have spent twice as much as needed to and when you get the bill of charges, you will pass a large misshapen brick out of your rectum. But, in the end, it’s all worth it. She’s your bike and soulmate and you are about to do something very special together. Isn’t life all about investing in relationships after all? Strengthen this one, while you can.
Other preparation involves getting your ass in shape. It’s about 4-5 days of hard riding from Delhi to Leh. Some hard asses, I am told, have done it in less time. The first day and a half is riding in intense heat and after that intense cold. Plus you have to battle bad roads, twisties, dehydration and the everyone’s personal favourite, altitude sickness. The rarified air and reduced oxygen means both the bike and the rider will take a beating. With the bike, there is the option of increasing the air intake in the carb. With the rider, the only option is to take it easy and rest. AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) is a sick bitch and its only after you have been at that altitude for a few hours that you realize she’s suckered you in.
In its mildest form, AMS manifests itself as a headache and breathlessness. The extreme form is cerebral damage and a date with the reaper. Now, muscular fitness is no insurance against AMS, but it will help you to handle the terrain and the weather with some dignity. Your gut needs to be as toned as possible, your lower back and shoulders need to strong and overall, you should be able to take a beating in the saddle. Else, after a couple of days, it’s no longer any fun to ride and you’ll rue the day you thought up this confounded ride. A big beer gut goes well with city riding. But for Leh, get in shape. A month of cardio and strengthening exercise will see you through to the end of this ride. You’ll still be tired at the end of each day, but won’t feel road-kill at least.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
How does a plan to ride to Leh emerge?
Been thinking about how you plan a motorcycle trip to Leh. Well at least for some of us, this is how it works. I have pondered the how and why for a while. What is it? Wanderlust? Machismo? Adventure? A liking for that sore sensation in the buttocks, each cheek crying separately and in unison with the other, for release from the saddle after 8 hours of riding, days at a stretch?
All of that, I guess. Then there’s more. Let’s say, you are in your thirties, single, independent, a bit rudderless, but there is parties and drinking binges on weekends with an ever decreasing pool of single friends and perhaps a comfortable existence and a none too shady career.
You’re master of your own life and time, that is not spent in the office. No real worries, or commitments. Vexed only perhaps by questions of life, the universe and everything. You know…purpose of existence…humanity…and why you still pay homage to the Porcelain God every now and then when it’s been one whiskey too many last night. You knew this would happen, yet you chose to have that last one for the road. But you always do that. Is it then free will or determinism? That sort of thing.
And then..one day, quite suddenly, a feeling comes over you. Sure its been fun. But you are getting older. The twenties went by a tad too quickly. You have spent a decade in a sort of staging area wondering what programme to load, only to realize, “It’s been that freakin' long?”
Sure, you have your beloved books, your downloaded music and movies, which are absolutely awesome and a bar full of your favourite single malts. But, to quote Charlton Heston from True Lies, you feel “so far, Gentleman, none of this is blowing any wind up my skirt”.
So on another day, when a colleague, suggests that you ride along on a trip to Leh, even though you feel the idea is a bit far out, you are forced to consider it. And that is partly because in the 11 years you have owned your Royal Enfield motorcycle, you have wanted to do this trip, but it’s always been sometime in the unforeseeable future. A chimera; elusive and unreal. A bit like that long, cool, woman in a black dress, one night at your regular bar, or that bottle of Macallan 50 you hope to own.
You then call up your buddy, your bro, that one last bastion of bachelorhood, your partner in crime and other things bizarre for the last 10 years and ask, “how about a ride this summer to the mountains like we talked about…mmm…a little farther than Manali…like, Leh, for instance?”. Some seconds later, but just a few seconds, he says, “Sure. Why not?”.
And then that syrupy cool feeling paces through your head, that you are not used to having so much these days. A feeling that says, this is the year. It’s going to happen.
Game on.
All of that, I guess. Then there’s more. Let’s say, you are in your thirties, single, independent, a bit rudderless, but there is parties and drinking binges on weekends with an ever decreasing pool of single friends and perhaps a comfortable existence and a none too shady career.
You’re master of your own life and time, that is not spent in the office. No real worries, or commitments. Vexed only perhaps by questions of life, the universe and everything. You know…purpose of existence…humanity…and why you still pay homage to the Porcelain God every now and then when it’s been one whiskey too many last night. You knew this would happen, yet you chose to have that last one for the road. But you always do that. Is it then free will or determinism? That sort of thing.
And then..one day, quite suddenly, a feeling comes over you. Sure its been fun. But you are getting older. The twenties went by a tad too quickly. You have spent a decade in a sort of staging area wondering what programme to load, only to realize, “It’s been that freakin' long?”
Sure, you have your beloved books, your downloaded music and movies, which are absolutely awesome and a bar full of your favourite single malts. But, to quote Charlton Heston from True Lies, you feel “so far, Gentleman, none of this is blowing any wind up my skirt”.
So on another day, when a colleague, suggests that you ride along on a trip to Leh, even though you feel the idea is a bit far out, you are forced to consider it. And that is partly because in the 11 years you have owned your Royal Enfield motorcycle, you have wanted to do this trip, but it’s always been sometime in the unforeseeable future. A chimera; elusive and unreal. A bit like that long, cool, woman in a black dress, one night at your regular bar, or that bottle of Macallan 50 you hope to own.
You then call up your buddy, your bro, that one last bastion of bachelorhood, your partner in crime and other things bizarre for the last 10 years and ask, “how about a ride this summer to the mountains like we talked about…mmm…a little farther than Manali…like, Leh, for instance?”. Some seconds later, but just a few seconds, he says, “Sure. Why not?”.
And then that syrupy cool feeling paces through your head, that you are not used to having so much these days. A feeling that says, this is the year. It’s going to happen.
Game on.
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