Our time - A euphemism for extremely unreliable time estimates / extremely unreliable timekeeping (Source - the official Ladakh 2009 trip dictionary).
If you don't sleep at night, waking up early ceases to be a problem. But once you wake up, you still need to pack up the tents, clean up the campsite, and cold start the bullets in the thin air! When we finally got going at 7 "our time", we were 2 hours behind the scheduled time of 7 hours IST.
Chavan was already ill. Abby having not gotten his quality sleep was grouchy. And to top it, there was the rain; not a downpour or anything, but that steady persistent drizzle that gets under your skin. Suddenly, no one wanted to take photo breaks or smoke; all that we wanted to do was ride non stop till we found better weather, hopefully beyond the next pass. We wished!
Just past Nakila, we ran into a herd of grazing Ibex. That was our first stop for the day, and even that lasted only long enough to get a few photographs.
But knowing our history, it was time for something to go wrong :) Abby was complaining all along of his engine dying in idle, and just after Nakila it stopped again; and refused to start! Brute force kicking would never have worked, and it did not. As luck would have it, just when we were running out of ideas, we saw this lone rider come up from behind us. And he turned out to be just the person we needed.
Anand Ethirajulu, on his solo trip, had enough knowledge of bullets to help us fix the broken bike. It wasn't a major fault - just a change of the fuel mixture to adjust for the rarefied air - but left to ourselves, we probably wouldn't have got it right for at least another hour. It took us a few kilometers, some experimentation with the settings, and fixing a bad fuel supply tube before we could really get going again.
The rain had let up by then, but the sky was still overcast threatening to open up any time. We pushed on though, and did the remaining 25 kms to Pang in quick time. The landscape had changed meanwhile; we were riding through a valley with an ultra clear river flowing next to us. Everything around had gotten more stark, more dry, more rough, and nature was doing overtime in it's modern artist role; creating strange and varied formations out of the rocks.
Just before Pang is a small checkpost where you have to register your vehicle and riders. It's manned by a friendly policeman who has no clue what the weather is outside his tent. If you do have questions about the weather, you'd be better off asking someone else!
Pang itself is a small tent colony where you can get some grub and bedding for the night. They've got a cool socialist scheme going - even though there's fierce competition between tents for the food business, the proceeds from the accommodation business are distributed evenly between all the tent owners. Viva la revolucion!
If you don't sleep at night, waking up early ceases to be a problem. But once you wake up, you still need to pack up the tents, clean up the campsite, and cold start the bullets in the thin air! When we finally got going at 7 "our time", we were 2 hours behind the scheduled time of 7 hours IST.
Chavan was already ill. Abby having not gotten his quality sleep was grouchy. And to top it, there was the rain; not a downpour or anything, but that steady persistent drizzle that gets under your skin. Suddenly, no one wanted to take photo breaks or smoke; all that we wanted to do was ride non stop till we found better weather, hopefully beyond the next pass. We wished!
Just past Nakila, we ran into a herd of grazing Ibex. That was our first stop for the day, and even that lasted only long enough to get a few photographs.But knowing our history, it was time for something to go wrong :) Abby was complaining all along of his engine dying in idle, and just after Nakila it stopped again; and refused to start! Brute force kicking would never have worked, and it did not. As luck would have it, just when we were running out of ideas, we saw this lone rider come up from behind us. And he turned out to be just the person we needed.
Anand Ethirajulu, on his solo trip, had enough knowledge of bullets to help us fix the broken bike. It wasn't a major fault - just a change of the fuel mixture to adjust for the rarefied air - but left to ourselves, we probably wouldn't have got it right for at least another hour. It took us a few kilometers, some experimentation with the settings, and fixing a bad fuel supply tube before we could really get going again.The rain had let up by then, but the sky was still overcast threatening to open up any time. We pushed on though, and did the remaining 25 kms to Pang in quick time. The landscape had changed meanwhile; we were riding through a valley with an ultra clear river flowing next to us. Everything around had gotten more stark, more dry, more rough, and nature was doing overtime in it's modern artist role; creating strange and varied formations out of the rocks.
Just before Pang is a small checkpost where you have to register your vehicle and riders. It's manned by a friendly policeman who has no clue what the weather is outside his tent. If you do have questions about the weather, you'd be better off asking someone else!
Pang itself is a small tent colony where you can get some grub and bedding for the night. They've got a cool socialist scheme going - even though there's fierce competition between tents for the food business, the proceeds from the accommodation business are distributed evenly between all the tent owners. Viva la revolucion!
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