Motorcycle diaries: a motorcycle trip through the Nubra valley and Pangong Lake

06 - 08 August

Having never ridden a motorbike, and sworn to never ride one of those organ donation machines, here I was, getting onto a bike with 3 Spanish boys, none older than 23, who I had met 6 days ago. #classicindia

These really just are the things that happen on a trip to India.  You do not plan them.  You do not know how you got there.  But you end up having a proper amazing time.

I had met these Spanish boys on my trek through Markha valley (last post was a doozie no?).  For some background: these were 3 guys, in their early twenties, who had come to India with no plan.  They had been convinced by a tour agent that they must see Leh, and go trekking, and therefore all three went to the nearest trekking store, and got kitted out with the same outfits.  The salesperson at the store definitely earned their yearly bonus off these guys, as they were convinced to buy (which they definitely did not need) sub-zero jackets.  I think it was their decision that they had to be matching.  They also had new, matching hiking shoes to boot (boot - lol).  Added that they had matching mohawk haircuts (because they were convinced to cut their hair in Varanasi, because it is good karma – oh to be young) and took a screenshot of our map at the start of the trek, because they had none.  Otherwise, they were really funny guys to be around, always positive and energetic, and generally just looking to have a good time.

These look like a trustworthy bunch of guys?,
Leh

When we had completed our hike, I started looking for other things to do / see in Leh, and was planning to see how the public bus could take me to the Nubra valley,  because going through a tour agent was just too expensive.  On telling my new friends of my plan, they invited me to join, as they were going to the same place, and had just rented two bikes, and had space on the back of one.

I asked if they had their bike licenses, which they quickly confirmed to me that they most certainly did not.  They though 'reassured me' that they had “grown up” on bikes, riding around Spain.  My risk averse nature kicked in, and I said I needed to test drive with them the day before, just to see how competent they were.  However, India intervened, and we just never got around to do it.

I therefore got onto the bike – my first motorbike - without any prior testing of the driver’s skill on the morning we left for the trip, and hoped for the best – which, in truth, had put me in good stead so far.  I comforted myself that if I felt unsafe, I could just get off, and hitch back to town.

Any fears though quickly dissipated, as these guys really knew what they were doing.  They confidently, and safely, were able to navigate the mountain paths and snow-covered trail leading to – historically erroneously claimed to be - the highest motorable passes in the world (now, it’s just referred to as one of the highest 😊).

The crew up at (one of) the highest motorable passes in the world,
Khardung La pass, Leh

Trepidations forgotten, I quickly began falling in love with our selected move of travel, and saw why people choose to go exploring (specifically this area) on a bike.  One moment you are in the snow, standing on top of (one of) the highest motorable passes in the world, and as soon as you go over the pass, you are greeted by green, lush, sunny valleys and lakes.  Like much of natural India, photos really cannot do justice to what your eyes are experiencing (or at least my attempts at capturing it).

I mean seriously?
Who wouldn't ride on a death machine for this?
Leh

Yay for good life choices
(I think the bikes were stopped at this moment),
Leh

Our first destination after the pass was Sumur.  It is famous for having sand dunes inexplicably present in the middle of the valley.  We had some good fun messing about in these and ended our day driving though to a small village, called Panamik, to stay overnight.  Here we were welcomed with a hearty, home-cooked meal, which served us well after a long day of motorbiking, and the company of an Austrian mountaineer who was climbing peaks around the area.

Sumur, Nubra valley

Sumur, Nubra valley

Nearly the end of day 1, with the beast -
the Royal Enfield Himalaya,
Sumur, Nubra valley

Panamik is also famous for a hot spring, which our new Austrian friend warned us was not too overwhelming.  We popped past nevertheless on the morning of the second day, and quickly left, after realising it was what can be best described as a bathroom floor with a warm water puddle as a foot bath.  Guess we gotta start be more trusting of the Austrians (too soon?).

Some Spanish boys, a saffer, and an Austrian
starting day 2 with a serious brekkies
Panamik, Nubra valley 

Undeterred, we headed to our primary destination.  Pangong lake was touted to us as a must-see, and overall just a beautiful place.  Our trip was going smoothly, and uneventfully, until after leaving lunch, the driver of my bike stopped.  He said the bike did not feel right.  After pulling over, we could instantly see why – the front tyre was punctured.  I jumped on the other bike to lighten the load of the injured bike and we both rode back to where we had just left lunch.

The restaurant owner was very helpful in guiding us (who between the four of us had a sum total of zero  mechanical experience) to remove the front wheel, and letting us know that two of us had to go to the nearest town to get the tyre fixed / replaced.  We quickly made a plan and each team member had their tasks.  Two of the Spanish boys would go on the working bike to get the tyre repaired, while me and the other buy would pass the time at the restaurant, eating and playing cards.  Not sure who received the short straw on that one :)

I say we were guided.
We mostly looked on,
near Kalsar

Hours passed, and while sitting at the restaurant, we started to calculate if we would be able to make it to Pangong lake still today - as we had intended spending the night there.  Just as we were losing hope, our fellow travellers returned with a repaired wheel.  Apparently the tyre man (not sure of the official title) repaired the tyre for 50 rupees (R10).  Sure it will be fine.  It would be close, we thought, but we felt we could still make it to Pangong lake.  We just had to stick the tyre back on and get going.

Classic case of easier said that done.   For those of you with as little motorbike mechanical experience as me, you should know that while removing a tyre is relatively simple, putting it back is not.  For some reason, the brake pads just would not move for us to slip the tyre back.  We tried.  The restauranteers tried.  Some random patrons of the restaurant tried.  There were theories, and poking, and prodding, even some brute force, but they would not budge.

with the sun was setting, and our thoughts turning to where to spend the night, and as we began starting to consider returning back to Leh, one of the Spanish guys suggested a Hail Mary.  We had tried every screw and bit except one, because this was where the front brake’s hydraulic fluid was stored.  The theory went that if this was released, maybe this was the pressure holding the pads together.  Tired, and out of options, we gave our approval, and it actually worked.

With new excitement, we quickly put the wheel back on, and amazingly all the parts were accounted for, and started riding.  However, one thing you cannot beat is the sun, and light was fading fast.  We had intended to leave lunch at 1pm, and had now left at 6pm.  Pangong was out of the question, and we really just were looking for the next village.

We had figured that driving in the dark was not too bad, as there would not be too much traffic (there was no other vehicles on the road) and we would just be careful.  What we had not counted on however, and probably the reason for there being no one else on the road, was that the river levels rise considerably in the afternoon, as the hot day turns the snow on the mountain into water.  Small streams that are skipped over in the morning, become considerably faster and fuller flowing in the later afternoon.  Our bikes would not ride through them easily, so as we got stuck in each one, we had to push these through freezing cold, recently melted snow rivers. 

Pushing our bikes, knee deep in ice water,
trying to make it to the nearest village.
Somewhere in Leh :)

There was no turning back, because the river we had just crossed was bad enough, and the nearest town hours behind us.  Finally, we ended up at a village about 60km from Pangong lake, called Shyok at 9pm.  Cold, wet, and tired, we just needed a place to stay, but found the locals very unhelpful, and trying to take advantage of our vulnerable situation by offering inflated prices and trying to get us to stay at their guesthouses.  We decided to take on finding a place to stay on our own, and to set off to some lights in the distance.  We were however quickly flagged down by (what we think was) a policeman / border officer / checkpoint person, saying we should go back, because we were driving towards the China border.

Cold and tired, but still in high spirits.
Shyok, Turtuk

Colder, and more tired, we just accepted the first offer that came our way, and spent the night at a guesthouse that turned out not to be too bad.

The next morning we headed to Pangong lake, on a largely (relatively) uneventful trip: except that we waited for 3 hours while the one guy suddenly realised he left is cellphone at the guesthouse in Shyok and went back to get it.

By now we got used to some cards,
while waiting.
Tangste

On arriving to Pangong, we were so pleased to see that all the trials and troubles were worth it.  It is a massive 134km deep blue lake, and surrounded by the Himalayan mountains.  About a third belongs to India, and the rest to China (read Tibet) #getting political.  We spent some time marvelling around, taking some pictures, and having lunch, but we could not stick around too long, as we had over 100km still to cover to get back to Leh that evening.

The crew, with our destination in the background,
Pangong lake

Lunch at Pangong lake

Pangong Lake

To my surprise, we made it back: all in one peace, with one bike having a self-repaired wheel and no front brakes,over snow, through sun, rain, mountain passes, and terrible roads inbetween.  There were some hairy moments over the three days, but overall an incredible experience, with some great, new friends, seeing a largely untouched part of the world, and falling in love with my new favourite mode of transport.  Don’t think I’ll do it again though – motorbikes are dangerous (so he says until the next random adventure pops up).

Riding back to Leh across snow

Arriving back in Leh