The alarm goes off. My room-mate, Gerard, tortures me with an electric light, and then adding to my discomfort, floods me with daylight by drawing the curtains! It's 4:59am, breakfast is in 30 minutes and we ride within the hour!
It's an early start today as there's a big ride ahead. We have to re-ride the 60 hard kms we did yesterday from Tatopani, plus the 100km of mixed roads from there to Pokara; all in one day. A tall order it would seem, hence the torturing reveille.
In fact we leave at 6:15 and I could have had 15 more minutes in bed. There are no T's again today as we've all been good (or at least not told tales to Alex - those T-shirts in hot weather are agony).
It's cooler, thankfully, and for the first time I'm wearing my proper bike jacket. It doesn't take long for it to be dispensed with. The sun is low in the sky and the light is good, but with some low cloud still to be banished by the Sun's rays. Although riding the reverse route might normally be boring, the views are completely different the other way around, and it's almost like riding a new road. I recognise some of the mud and rocks; there, just where we left them, but it's good for them to challenge us anew.
'The Harley' has been tucked up in my mental garage for the last few days and it stays there today, these are Bullet roads; at least the first 100km. Overnight the mechanics gave my bike the once over, cleaning out the carb and putting a free flow exhaust on. It now sounds "proper", as Guy Martin might say. Although the Bullet is good for these roads, the 1950's designed suspension takes no prisoners. It's a good workout, like going ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, but leaving the ring intact. Hitting a bump, rock, or rut a little too fast and the jolt hammers you in the seat, the ribs and the neck as the shock absorber transfers its unabsorbed energy into you. After a week of this, we've all toughened up. The trick to riding in this terrain is finding the right line: get that right and you'll float like a butterfly, 80% of your work done. Get it wrong, as we invariably do, and you'll take another 'bee sting' to the ribs.
But even your best defence will not save you from the jagged, paved, stone road just outside one village. It shakes the fillings from your teeth for 50m or so, until there's a small gap to the side, on which you can escape. The bracket holding my exhaust gives up at this point and wobbles around until I can effect an emergency repair at a chai stop (I'm too impatient to wait for the support truck).
The 60km to Tatopani are completed within three hours and we collect Mark, who's feeling much better. We joke about how much he was charged for his room to be fumigated; at least he's cleaned his boots. We've another 100km to go, but it's getting hotter and while we wait for the support jeep to catch up (so they can take Mark's luggage), we huddle into whatever shade we can find.
Off again and we regroup at Beni. The BikerDom helmet is a good marker for others to see, but some still miss it and we have to shout at them to stop. While off the bike there, I keep getting asked where I'm going and when I say Pokara they try to get me on a bus. I used the universal motorbike symbol 'holding pretend bars and twisting the throttle' to indicate that my ride is already sorted. Beni is a major transport hub and there are mostly old and smoky coaches heading in all directions. Smaller minibuses advertise A/C, free wifi and LED TV as their travel USP.
From there it's only another 80k to Pokara and we're making good progress. The roads are getting slightly easier, but it's still not reliable tarmac yet. The next chai stop is at a place we frequented a few days ago heading north. It's the parade of shops and a tyre fitter. Most of them are closed but the noodle chef is open. He has eggs on display too, but seems reluctant to sell any. Alex has a snooze in the van, but we're all getting a little eager to move off. Prompted from slumber, he heads off like a scalded cat while the rest of us prepare to mount up. (Also note that today, Vidhya is taking a rest from her back-seat pounding as she's already experienced these roads.)
It's now a tarmac (see previous post's note about tarmac) run into Pokara, about 40k to go. I set off and eventually catch Alex. We then make good progress on the mostly good tarmac to within 10k of Pokara after some serious curves, occasional dirt, and lots of right hand and left thumb (the horn). As I pull up next to Alex at a chai stop, he shakes my hand; it seems he enjoyed the ride as much as I did.
We finally arrive at 3:30 having circled our hotel a few times trying to find it. The hotel is very posh and the sight of 20 hairy bikers turning up must have ruffled a few feathers. To dispel concerns, later I turn up for dinner in a suit and tie, but the trainers don't quite go with the outfit. My body's muscle memory is still actively processing the Bullet's sensations and it takes a while to adjust to life in the slow lane.
The hotel is plagued by endless power cuts and very poor wifi, but the rooms are decent. Dinner is a buffet again, but others choose to dine out; the food we had was fine. Later a few of us go on a hunt for ice cream and stop at a restaurant, which turns out to have a noisy (shreaky, screaming singers) cultural show, which we don't enjoy, and the advertised ice-cream is "melt"; the Black Forest gateau is decent enough. We get our ice cream fix at the next stop and shoot the breeze until it's time to retire.
Sent from my trusty rusty BlackBerry
1 comment:
Enjoying your blog work.
Post a Comment