At about 10.30 this morning I was standing astride my rented Royal Enfield 500 - the Bullet - in the middle of a fast-flowing river. The icy water filled my walking boots instantly. And the bike had stopped. There followed a minute - perhaps less - of frantic pushing and shoving on my part which resulted in my top half getting very hot and bothered. But the bike was firmly stuck between invisible rocks on the riverbed, which had been washed downstream when the river overflowed on to the road. It's a common occurrence at this time of year, when the rivers are fed by the fast-melting snows further upstream.
I had encountered the blockage about ten minutes earlier on the road near Darcha, as I turned a corner in the road to see a small queue of lorries and cars, their drivers all taking pictures of the leading car which had also become stuck in the river. With unusual efficiency, a tanker driver found a length of metal cable and hauled the offending car back across the surging waters - from where it took another 'run' at the crossing and got across safely.
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| Not your humble scribe but you get the idea... |
I waited while the queuing vehicles each took their turn and only then went forward to see how best a mere two wheeler could negotiate the torrent. There was no way back: the Manali to Leh Highway is the only way to cross this particular stretch of mountains, so forward it had to be.
Soon afterwards I was stuck in the middle. Since I was obviously not going to get out on my own, I got a helpful shove back on to dry land from one of the many spectators, where I regained my composure and tried to start the bike again. First time! What a workhorse is the RE.
That was the worst of five or six such river crossings during the day. Annoyingly it was followed by a long and arduous climb to Baralarcha La, one of the day's two high passes about an hour later. By that time my tiny feet were seriously cold as the icy river water sloshed around inside my boots. A roadside stop in the sunlight was required to dry off my feet, change socks and grab a coffee.
When I left the café some time later, I blush to admit that I had donned waterproof socks and my walking sandals which, once again, proved to be ideal footwear for just about every activity!
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| Tanglang La - at 5328m, literally and figuratively the high point of my Indian ride |
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