Manali-Leh-KhardungLa Cycling

I have completed my much awaited cycling expedition from Manali to Leh and then from Leh to KhardungLa.
The trip took me to the highest passes of the Himalayas and icidentally to the highest motorable pass KhardungLa, except that I cycled up it and not motored up :-)

The blog with 100+ pictures and day to day account is at http://manasij.wordpress.com

Feel free to browse through it and send me your comments.

Cheers,
Manasij Ganguli
9811041363

Cycling to Chakrata

A perfect mountain destination opens up the imagination of a place surrounded by tall snow capped peaks, streams, beautiful lush greenery, freshness in the air and finally an idyllic spot with very few people and concrete. May be you want to add the drama of a spectacular road trip leading to the “perfect” destination. Well, you got all of this in Chakrata, a hill station very few know, let alone visit.

Chakrata is tucked into the Garwhal Himalayas at a height of 7000 feet in the state of Uttaranchal, some 90 km from Dehradun. It is less known because it is meant to be less known. This is the place where the Special Forces of Indian Army trains, shoots, treks, learns bush crafting and therefore this place cannot be advertised to compromise its high security.

So when Aadhar, Gaurav and I sat down with our maps and truckloads of searched internet data and all sort of stuff to pick our spot for the next mountain biking destination, Chakrata won the ballot hands down. For pure cycling enthusiasts, this was a trip which would make you drool. You would be climbing from Vikas Nagar at 1450 feet to Chakrata at 7000 feet in 52 km. Actually the climb begins at Kalsi, 11 km from Vikas Nagar. In next 41 km the road climbs 5000 feet. That would be one hell of a climb to do and we all agreed to give it a shot.

We reached Vikas Nagar, 250 km from Delhi wading through some really patchy traffic and dodgy roads through Merut, Muzzafarnagar and Saharanpur. Our hotel, Guru Kripa, was a decent affair and we all slept well in the nice air-conditioned comfort.

The action began at 6 am the next day, July 4th 2009. We readied our mountain bikes, calibrated our instruments, stuffed in some omelets and bananas and off we went. The weather was good with no sign of rains and we all felt good. I had a bad start though. I discovered that I had forgotten my sipper back in my refrigerator, which was 250 km away. Also, I had a slight doubt about my form as a stupid fall from stairs a day before had given me a back sprain, a niggled groin and an occasional hurting shoulder.

The ride was easy at the beginning as the road climbed just 500 feet in the first 11 km to reach Kalsi. Just a few months back Kalsi to Chakrata used to be a one way traffic route controlled by two gates operated simultaneously from both the ends. However, these days it is a free flow. But I hit my first roadblock here.

This route is out of bounds for foreigners on account of this being a high security zone. The check post soldier, after looking at me, arrived at the conclusion that I was definitely not an Indian. I do not know why this keeps happening everywhere. It had happened in the past while we biked from Paonta Sahib to Nahan and again when we went from Kalka to Kasauli, and hey presto it happened again. Thankfully, I was carrying my driving license and it saved my day and this would be the order of the day in all of the check posts en-route. I envied Aadhar and Gaurav who would breeze past these annoying check posts grinning widely while I would be flagged down and forced to produce my papers and use my vernacular prowess to prove my Indian-ness.

Just after we crossed Kalsi, the scenery changed dramatically. Suddenly the boring straights gave way to winding tarmac with huge eucalyptus and deodars flanking the sides. I was feeling great and loved the narrow winding route that all of a sudden culminated into a series of switchback climbs.


We had barely crossed the first set of hairpin climbs when misfortune struck. Gaurav who had been complaining about his rear derailleur ever since we started, declared it busted. It meant only one thing, we would have to decide if I and Aadhar would push on or we all go back. Being a great team man, Gaurav egged us to go on as he had to take the tough decision of returning to the hotel in Vikas Nagar some 15 km downhill. It was sad to lose a comrade. We bade farewell and saw Gaurav go downhill and I could not help but feel sad. Gaurav is a live wire and is an amazing source of enthusiasm, losing him was a cruel blow.

I and Aadhar pushed on. Just a few kilometers from where we parted with Gaurav, we discovered that we had misread the conditions. After Kalsi, there was a steady climb with intermediate steep sections leading to the village Sahiya 18 km away. The road was not in great condition and had lots of gravels and boulders, reminiscent of past landslides. Some places would just turn out to be mere rubble piles with little tarmac. On top of this, the sun was getting stronger by every minute and I could see the temperature soar to 34 degrees Celsius and it was only 8 am in the morning!

But our biggest problem was not the gradient, which was anyway bad, or the road surface or the heat. Our biggest problem was that we were running out of water. On a challenging climb with a hot sun, I would typically drink a liter of water in 3-4 km. I had a one liter water bottle and so did Aadhar which would never take us to Sahiya, 18 km uphill. We needed water and there was no village, no shops and no dhabas in the route.

Finally, when we ran out of all the water, I had no option but to flag down a passing military vehicle and beg for water. We got some and it was ice cold. It felt great. It did a great deal of good to our spirits and we pedaled hard and ate many kilometers in quick time. We went through some army constructed temporary wooden bridges. The bridge would sway violently when a vehicle would go over it. When we crossed through them we could see what the car drivers can never experience. The wooden planks had 2-3 inches gaps and through them we could see the bottomless drop. Scary, but interesting nonetheless.

We stopped for snacking on some chocolates at a dilapidated and condemned government building. We met with a group of horsemen who transport sand from downhill side to the villages above. We talked to them and we learnt that they were local tribesmen called “Jaunsaris”. It is believed in this region, that the Pandavas stayed here for some time during their 14 years’ exile and these communes practice polyandry till date, just as Pandavas did.

May be Aadhar got buoyed by the talk of marriage and decided to try some horse riding, as a prelude to his marriage that is due late this year when he has to ride the horse as a part of the standard marriage rituals. I also followed him and it was fun.

We began our climb and pretty soon ran out of water again. There was no vehicle to be seen on the road as well. Finally we spotted a leaking pipe and filled our bottles. Another hour passed and we were again out of water. This time a mountain stream rescued us. Finally, we reached the village Sahiya, 29 km from the starting point. We had scaled 2000 feet in 29 kms in little over 3 hours, thanks to our frequent water discovery quests.

It seemed that we had hit the small village with a squall of some sort. I and Aadhar were mobbed in no time from all directions. We looked way out of line with our strange biking attires and geared mountain bikes. All sorts of questions rained. How costly are these bikes? How fast do they travel? Where are we going? Why are we biking? Are we racing? Why do they have disc brakes? Why do we wear gloves? One shopkeeper commented that we would not reach Chakrata before evening as it was a steep climb away.

Anyway, we ate some chicken curry and rice and filled our bottles and continued. The climb immediately became tough. We had a 3500 feet climb ahead of us in next 23 km and the temperature had soared to 37 degree Celsius, thanks to my Suunto Vector watch which measures altitude, barometric pressure, compass bearing and temperature. In this heat with this terrain, it was tough and was no walk in the park. Being the lighter rider I was riding ahead and would egg Aadhar on from every vantage point.

Finally, at the 17 km milestone I and Aadhar separated as I went ahead. Separation from my other biking mate had a sudden demoralizing effect on me. There was no intermediate chit chat and laugh to be shared now. I hated everything- the climb, the sun, the distance. It took some hard focus from my side to remain on top of the climb.

The road became very beautiful soon after. I would see Himalayan oak, deodar and rhododendron all around the path. I would see the wonderful green cultivated step farming fields downhill. The lush green mountains would show a grayish-white carved spine, which was the road I had already climbed and to add drama to it, the whole mountain face would have fleeting cloud shadows passing over it. It was magnificent and amidst all tiredness the sight would mesmerize me.

7 km from the top and at an altitude of 6000 feet, I suddenly started to feel a little strange. It seemed I was not producing enough power to climb anymore. This was my second experience of bonking. Last time I remembered being bonked out in one of my weekend rides of 70 kms to Greater Noida from Noida on a very hot and extremely strong headwind day. There was no way I was getting anything to eat here unless I do a Bear Grylls of the discovery channel series “Man vs Wild” and eat a bug or snake or something. I egged myself on and continued pedaling.

I would tell myself that heroes do not quit, that people who have conquered have hung on to hope in face of dire situations. I would remember the stupendous survival stories that I absolutely love to watch in National Geographic. This entire emotional payload resulted in some inspired mountain biking albeit at a snail’s pace. Later my GPS would tell me that my overall climbing average was a little over 9 km/hr. That’s not really a race tempo, but when you compare that cars average at about 20-25 km/hr for climbs on the same road, it is not too bad either.

Finally at 6800 feet and 2 km from Chakrata the little town made a magical appearance through the woods and quite at the same time I heard gun shots ringing at a distance. Later I learnt that I was going past the shooting range of the Special. To me it seemed as if someone was giving me a gun salute for the arduous climb I had completed. A little over patronizing it may seem, but that’s how it felt when I completed the climb.

Then came the best part of the biking tour. The downhill was a fast affair and it was there when the enormity of the climb really sunk in. It was a 41 km long downhill and we had great fun doing it. We would overtake cars, buses, pick-up trucks and even bikes in the downhill. Aadhar’s bike is a Tuscano full suspension disc brake laden downhill expert and he stormed ahead at such a speed that he vanished from my sight in no time. I was a little conservative with my hardtail Trek 4300 but managed a respectable top speed of 64 km/hr.

We regrouped at Kalsi and then did the final 11 km very gradual downhill to Vikas Nagar and back to our hotel. The full ride was a staggering 104 km. The feel of completing such a laborious bike day is difficult to describe but all I know is there would be many such days to come in the near future.

Cycling from Kalka to Kasauli, June 13th 2009

If you go asking people to name something that makes them instantly connect to the childhood memories, chances are that the cycle would probably feature prominently in that list. The romance of the cycle is undying. Yes we love our fuel guzzling sedans and motorbikes, but the cycle tugs the strings of the heart as it reminds us of the sunny days of our childhood and passage to adulthood.

For me, I remember my daily 5 km ride to my school from home, the long aimless rides with friends in winter afternoons, wading through knee deep waterlogged streets on my cycle during rains and foremost I remember long walks with my high school girlfriend (whom I ended up marryingJ) when I would just talk with her and walk my cycle alongside.

Call me fickle, or someone who is about to enter mid-age crisis (though at 29 I am still some years from thee) or someone who desperately wants to cling to fitness or whatever, I have always wanted to be on my cycle and ride it.
To cut a long story short, I managed to form a small group of cycling enthusiasts in my workplace (I am a software engineer working in Delhi, India) and together we dreamt of cycling from Manali in Himachal Pradesh (India) to Leh, Ladakh (India) and then to the Khardungla Pass (highest road on the world). This would require some serious training as we planned to travel 550 km at an extreme high altitude (average of 13,500 feet with few passes as high as 18,380 feet). So after weeks’ of trainings and long rides (some extending to 100 km), we decided that it was about time we set ourselves up the mountains and see how we fared.

We have had some experience in mountains previously. We had scaled from Paonta Sahib to Nahan (both in Himachal Pradesh, India). It was an easy uphill for the first 43 km and then a dramatic 7 km uphill ride. We had huffed and puffed and reached the summit that time and had realized that we would need more conditioning. So after 6 weeks of daily dosage of 35-40 km cycling and weekend cycling of around 70 km, we were ready to pick our spot.

Kalka to Kasauli (See Route) came as the top draw for a lot of reasons. One, Kasauli is at an altitude of around 6000 feet. Two, Kalka is at 2100 feet so the altitude gain of around 4000 feet is respectable under any circumstances. Three, Kalka to Kasauli sports two routes; an easy gradient through NH 22 via Dharampur (climbing 3900 feet in 50 km on super smooth tarmac) and another stiff climb of 22 km through roads that is not great in condition. We chose the latter. It was far tougher to climb as the gradient was much stiffer; it had bad roads, which adds more challenges and it had less vehicular traffic, so we would be safer.

One last reason for choosing this route was because the road from Delhi to Kalka (approximately 275 km) is a straight dash across the 6 lane highway which meant we could easily reach Kalka, bike up and down and come back without spending an eternity travelling in our cars.

Our cycling expedition began at Kalka railway station on Saturday June 13th at 7 am. Kalka is a sleepy township at the foothills of Dhauladhar Range. The quaint railways station is the biggest in the Himachal Pradesh and it sees traffic in morning hours when trains from Delhi arrive and again in the evening when trains for Delhi depart. It is the starting point of Kalka-Shimla toy train route that covers 90 km in a leisurely 8 hours through as many as 100+ tunnels and many picturesque bridges. It is a UNESCO world heritage railhead and a must for anyone who enjoys the hill view at a leisurely pace.

Anyway, we unpacked our cycles from the boot of our cars and began the assembly. Just for pure reader’s information, I own a Trek 4300 mountain bike. Aadhar, the biker with most number of kilometers and experience in our group, owns a Terrano Mountain Bike and Gaurav owns a La-Sovereign Mountain Bike. Mine and Gaurav’s are hardtails whereas Aadhar owns a full suspension model.

At 7:30 am we started our journey. The weather was cool and the sky was clear blue. We all had bananas before we started and were carrying sippers with glucose and ORS (Oral Rehydration Salt) dissolved in water. We also had some chocolate bars to snack our way to the top. However, we all were in the mood for a nice steaming cup of tea to begin our ride.

So we stopped just a kilometer from the Kalka railway station in a small tea shop. While we waited for the tea, our curious attire and alien looking bikes attracted quite a crowd. One of them was a holy man with long beard. He reeked of country liquor. He first accosted me and quite to my surprise asked for my name in English. I have been mistaken for a foreigner during my Nahan cycling expedition (possibly because of the cycling gear, dark shades and long hairs than my complexion). He also told me that I am a lucky guy but the time was against me and some stupid stuff about I might get married soon but may have three marriages. I told him that I am already married and he scooted off to Aadhar. He gave Aadhar a gem of an advice. “sex kam kiya karo” (have less sex) and we all rolled in laughter. For the remaining of the day, I and Gaurav kept taunting Aadhar about the holy advice.

Anyway, we finished our tea and began the ride. The road climbed moderately to Parwanoo, a very small settlement, another 4 km away. We ditched the heavily trafficked NH 22 and took a hard left for the short and steep climb to Kasauli. Immediately we were hit on our faces by the gradient. The easy climbing gradient of NH 22 was passé, this was steep. To add to the woes, the road was too narrow and had lots of gravels. This meant that whenever we would encounter any big vehicle we would have to stop and pull over to a side. How difficult it is to stop and then resume the climb, especially on a cycle and on a track strewn with gravels (which minimize traction) is something one can only experience and not convey through writing.

I was continuously pedaling at 2X3 and found a good rhythm and steamed ahead. Being the lightest (at only 55 kg) I definitely had an advantage in climbing. Aadhar and Gaurav kept up the tempo in their own pace. We crossed the Kalka Shimla railway track at Taksal at 2600 feet, 2 km from Parwanoo. Aadhar and Gaurav saw the train too; I was a little too early to have missed that. Envy them for this!

The climb became much tougher after that. I was continuously working the gears to gain the best cadence but the terrain and the traffic would fight back. On top of all these, it started to get warmer. We stopped at a shanty tea stall in Jungeshu for some drinks and ended up consuming 6 cold drinks and 2 water bottles with 2 double egg omelets. Feeling more powerful and rejuvenated, we hit the road again. The climb became steep, then steeper and then &#%$@$@%. I kept pedaling uphill though one switchback climbs after another. Sometimes a vehicle would come downhill and the drivers would give us thumbs up as an acknowledgment to the testament of our arduous climb. It felt great to be appreciated.

The road was dotted with some very scenic and quaint villages in the backdrop of the mighty Dhauladhar mountains. All the settlements had one thing in common, a large white board on which the name, the population and the altitude of the village was inked in blue. None of the villages had population more than 500. Farming was the business of choice and we could see lush cultivated landscapes scooped out in steps on the mountain sides. The color scheme was magnificent. The deep blue clear sky blended into the dark green tall tree tops and rolled down to light green colored cultivated fields. The black pitch of the tarmac served as an excellent contrast.

Everything kept changing in the route. The sun soared, the temperature increased, the climb became tougher as we became more and more tired. The scenery changed too. Now we were traveling through green alpine forests with lots of streams here and there. Some of the streams directly flowed over the road. We could see many signs of landslides and huge boulders were everywhere. At times, when I would not see anyone behind me, I would stop at a landslide flattened tree trunk or a fallen boulder while the rest caught up.

Finally, we had our encounter with bad luck. Gaurav had a flat tire. We were 8 km from the summit and at 4700 feet, thanks to our GPS device lent to us kindly by Aditya, a colleague of mine. Just as what team mates do, we walked our bikes with Gaurav. Barely 100 meters from the bad luck spot, had we found a truck filling up water from one stream. Gaurav packed his bike on it and hitched a ride to Kasauli to get the tire fixed while we continued our climb.

Later we came to know that Gaurav had to go down 3 km from Kasauli to Garkhal to get the tire fixed and he rode all the way to the top alone reaching there well before us. To know the details of his sob story visit Gaurav's Blog

Meanwhile, I and Aadhar kept pedaling and eating the kilometers in a slow but steady pace. The wind had changed and the clouds had appeared. The temperature had dropped and the mountain mist had started to make its appearance. I was fading in energy but managed to pedal.


We stopped at a hotel, 3 km from the summit, to grab another cold drink. It was a fitting example of the fleecing kind. A fully concrete hotel with poor facilities and sky high charges, something wealthy Delhiwalas afford with ease and achieve a “getaway vacation” feel. We were surrounded by a lot of locals and workmen of the hotel and had to unwillingly take part in a long drawn interview about us, about our bikes, about why we are doing such things, where were we headed etc. In the middle of all the question and answer session, Gaurav rang me on my cell and told that he has reached the destination, so we started again.

Slowly and steadily the countdown reached 0 and I met up with Gaurav. We had climbed to an altitude of 5900 feet from our starting altitude of 2100 feet, covering 26 km in little less than 4 hours. We gulped down another bottle of cold drinks and began the long descent to Kalka railway station.

The downhill was a mad dash. Aadhar stormed ahead, so did Gaurav. My bike was the only one which did not have disc brakes, so I hesitated to match the others in pace. Then suddenly came a huge downpour. We stopped at a small tin shelter which turned completely porous in just a few minutes. We shivered as we turned wet and the weather was cold.

The moment the downpour stopped I darted out full steam. I was pedaling the downhill just to get a little warmed up and started enjoying the speed. Later my GPS would tell me that I had achieved a highest speed of 66.7 km per hour in that downhill rush. All the spots, Mashobra, Jungeshu, Taksal… that we had labored though the steep climb became a blur as I rode past them like a man possessed. In little over half an hour I was at the Kalka railway station, our starting point. Gaurav and Aadhar arrived moments later all topped with adrenaline rush thanks to the downhill.

We celebrated our ride and laughed a good lot when Aadhar said he would come back here again and Gaurav remarked that he had better heed to the holy advice to up his performance. May be he will, may be not, but one thing is for sure, we would be back here for more fun on the cycle.