23 July 2010

This was going to be long day. Many obstacles awaited us. We did take off in good time. But after riding only 10 kms over potholed roads, Rohit had a rear tyre puncture(Puncture #5). Two passing soldiers suggested to take the tyre only 2 kilometeres ahead to the next village. So, we again got busy taking out the tyre. Doley took the tyre to the village to get it fixed. We waited. The soft mud was making a mess of Dutta who did not have a mudguard. He noted that it made a great design on his helmet. But his clothes were indistinguishable from the colour of the mud. Luckily for him, it had not rained. An army convoy passed us. They would surely flatten some of the mud at ZojiLa. After the tyre was re-fitted, we wondered how many more were to be faced. We were running out of tubes.
Then we reached ZojiLa War Memorial and then tiled paths took us to ZojiLa. When going from Dras, there is little slope to actually tell you that you have reached the top of a mountain pass. That surprise comes later. A thin narrow path thousands of feet up in the air. Riding on the edge. The path is always covered in huge amounts of slush. Very tricky. If you gather some courage to peep downhill, the mountains make sure that you never do that again, its that scary. The Great Teachings of Nature.
While descending we could also see the huge encampments of Amarnath Yatris. They had covered acres of the valley below. Helicopters were flying with devotees for a quickie. Now the roads widened greatly. After the treachorous ZojiLa slush, we made good use of these roads and reached Sonmarg in no time. Breakfast. Parathas and loads of butter.
The next stop will be a great distance away. We had to cross the greatest obstacle now. A curfew-struck Srinagar. Surprisingly, the gradient of the slope faded away and it levelled out. I had no idea of the size of the Kashmir Valley and would find out now. A great opportunity to make up for lost time. With great speed, we reached the outskirts. The traffic was growing thinner and thinner. One more change was the military person changing into para military ones. CRPF jawans were patrolling the roads throughout to protect the Yatris. Now all of us rode together in close formation. At one outpost, we were diverted to go from the longer route circling the entire Dal lake. Some tourists could also be seen in shikaras. The roads were almost barren. This helped us in crossing Srinagar quickly, as it should have been. Its a shame to watch this beautiful place being ruined by constant rifts and curfews. Its creating a serious shortage of resources here and the more those are denied, the more agitated the people will become. Curfews are not the solution.
After crossing Srinagar, we were somewhat relieved. But when we neared Brijbahara, we took a turn and saw a scary sight. A mob was protesting on the highway. For a moment we thought, This was it. This was what we had feared and now we would be in the midst of it. One man signalled us to pass through. It was a peaceful mob. CRPF personnel were walking besides it and we were let through. This was one of the most scary moments of my life. Such experiences help you in appreciating life, the life that you crib about daily.
At another town some kilometers later, huge crowds were again pouring on the roads. This time there were no paramilitary persons around. It turned out that they were just regular citizens out to visit the mosque on Friday. It had to be a Friday when we would be crossing Srinagar. We passed carefully. We had travelled for over a 100 kms now without stopping. A break was definitely needed. My head was snoozing. But we thought of crossing the Valley first. The Valley wasnt going to get over so soon. We had to travel another good 50 kms and we were still int he Valley but now we simply had to stop.
Tea and namakpaare provided some wake up call. Jawahar Tunnel was now 30 kms away. So the hills were close by. I dont recall having travelled so much distance without stopping. While ascending to the Tunnel, we reached a signpost, "Titanic View of the Kashmir Valley". I did not stop as I was anxious to enter the much adoed Jawahar Tunnel. Doley did for a few pictures. We all lined up just before the Tunnel. Unlike the one near Kullu, this one is 2.5 kms straight-lined. We entered together. Loud hoots could be heard as we let our lungs speak out inside the tunnel. So did our Bullets. We revved them high. The effect of the thump you get inside a tunnel is symphonic.
We thought we had crossed the worst. We thought it would be a smooth sail from here on and we would reach Patnitop easily, our designated target of the day, as per plan. As we neared Ramban, traffic grew dense. The huge onslaught of Amarnath Yatris was increasing. 6 kms before Ramban and we had to stop. There was a long queue of vehicles ahead. Trucks, buses, cabs all filled with Yatris. Seeing our Longbow flags, many yelled at us, "Jai Bhole". They thought we were coming from the Yatra. We were asked frequently in the jam about our source. We proudly replied, "Ladakh". The jam seemed to be heading nowhere. It was time to take advantage of our two-wheelers and break the queue. We crawled ahead slowly. Inserting our bikes into the smallest of gaps. The whole of Ramban was crossed this way. But the queue was still not ending. By now, it had got hot too contributed mostly by the exhausts of all the vehicles. How some of us were still riding with theur jackets, I dare not think. Finally, after 5 more painful kilometers, there came a gap. Relieved, we revved up our bikes, only to stop 2 kms later at another tail-end. The going was to be this way for the entire day.
We stopped at Peerha, just before Batote for a meal. My parents had told me a lot about the Rajma-Chawal served here. They were absolutely right. The dish is served and then topped up with scoops of ghee. Pomegranate chutney is served on the side. The taste is unparallel. Finishing one plate is a mountaineous task, but we managed to do so. And then had some more. This place is worth a visit only for that meal. It was dark now. The riding was getting too painful. The headlights of oncoming vehicles was increasing the risk. We had to stop for the night and then start early the next day. We chose a hotel at Batote. It was like a dorm. Seven beds lined up with one attached bathroom. The next morning would be a busy one. Taking advantage of the tourist season, the owner charged us Rs 1000. Time came for another round of Chinar. Only few participants.