Post 4) The Blizzard Ride (Ladakh Season 2014)

Early morning 'Breakfast Run'. Spangmik to Tangtse. From day into night.

We were enthused and refreshed by our miraculous sleep, which felt more like an incredible escape from the jaws of AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness). The last meal Ray had was the previous day’s lunch but he still chose to skip the breakfast.

The Ladakhi drivers advised us to return to Leh instead of going to Tso Kar. Some said it was “Bone shattering!” while others warned, “there is no road”. We had already taken a huge risk by riding without acclimatizing and to continue further in our shaky state would have been foolish.

The wild shades of the mountain could not hide the blizzard brewing behind it.

Adventure motorcycling is about calculating your risks so you can keep riding. Plans are made to serve us not the other way around. Trouble starts when we stubbornly stick to an itinerary when wisdom tells us to be flexible and modify.

So we headed back to Leh via Changla. I will never forget the sense of dread when after 8 odd km’s we saw what can only be described as a sinister sky. The morning barely lasted an hour before we were riding right back into the night.

We had two choices. Return to our guesthouse and wait out the oncoming snowstorm or keep riding. We opted for the latter and experienced one of the most furiously fantastic rides.

Coming from Delhi, we thought we wouldn't be complaining about the cold.

The snowflakes fell lightly at first, like bits of white confetti. The mountains started to fade into the grey clouds. Then the wind picked up. The tarmac started to disappear under fresh snow and our faces started turning purple with cold.

Frozen scarf to keep my puffy chin up. 

Half an hour of riding through the whiteout and we had to stop and defrost our hands. This went on numerous times. At one point I grabbed the bikes exhaust pipe. As the blood started to re-circulate I couldn’t help but smile. Just fifty meters away the grey curtains parted to reveal a row of Kiangs (wild Ladakhi asses). A little further from them were a dozen yaks shaking off the snow from their fur. It was still snowing heavily so I kept the borrowed camera safely tucked away.

This was what we had ridden up for. Not to collect souvenir photos to flaunt in some blog. It was to heed the invitation, however briefly, to enter the inner sanctuary of the Himalayas in all its raw beauty. To be terrified, to wonder, to be awestruck and to be screaming with joy and pain.  

Tangtse, oblivious to the storm behind those mountains.

We resumed our ride to arrive at Tangtse and ran straight into a kind lady’s kitchen to thaw our hands out. Drinking chai after chai, nearly hugging the pot of rice cooking over the stove we felt a battle had been won.

Just in time to inhale some rice steam and drink chai.

We had not just survived a blizzard. We had been revived through it.