11. Leh Ladakh Part 2: Solo trek in the Himalayas

Markha Valley trek

I had done short, 1-day treks or hikes in Scotland and Italy, but this was something else. I mean, it's the Himalayas. Yet you can't help but see all the trek planning shops in town to know this is a big part of the Ladakh experience. Plus, several people I'd met at Moustache back in Delhi had raved about trekking in Ladakh. So Nick, Donovan and I were keen. But then I decided to stay in Leh for the festival and couldn't join the two of them on a guided trek. A Finn I'd met had done the same trek solo and said it was pretty straightforward - you just follow the valley. Then, as I was trying unsuccessfully to find another group I could split the cost with, one of the outfitters encouraged me to do it alone. His guide even walked me through it - what the terrain was like, where the homestays were, where to watch for forks in the trail, where there aren't bridges and you have to cross the river up to your knees (or waist, if it's rained). They would drive me to the start point, and I could hitch a ride back to Leh when I got to Shang Sumdo, or worst case I could have someone phone him and he would send a jeep. The final piece that did it for me was discovering my offline Maps With Me app actually had the trail marked, including villages, homestays and even "tea tents"! So my phone's GPS would help prevent me from getting lost. Open Street Maps - the wikapedia of maps used by Maps With Me - rules. I decided to do the trek alone.

Since the homestays include all bedding and food and water refills, I packed my day-pack with clothing layers and booked a ride on the adventure company shared bus to Chilling.

Leaving all the river-rafters at Chilling. On my own: how long until I see another soul??

Heading out from Chilling at noon it was 29° and perfect weather. My hip felt pretty good, I put on SPF lotion and my cap for the piercing sunlight, I had water, a few chapatis (flatbreads) and half a bag of almonds as snacks. My firm but worn-in hiking boots were very comfortable and I had several clothing layers to adapt as the temperature changed throughout the day. I felt prepared. I felt enthralled. I was appreciating every moment.

After crossing a bridge that is under construction, I climbed hills huffing and puffing for a couple of hours until the path evened out. The bridge incidentally will replace a swinging cable cart that until now has been the only way to cross the river to the Markha Valley. This will enable vehicles to enter the valley, facilitating getting supplies up to the villagers of course, but inevitably accelerating changes that will threaten their traditions.

The bridge being builtbuilt near Chilling to cross the Zasnskar River into the Markha Valley.

I stopped at a home that was selling wonderful little animal puppets hand-made out of the hair of yak, cow and goat. I bought a local "friend" for the stuffed dog of my Mum's I had brought as a memento to accompany me from Canada. Every couple of hours I pass a farmer or guide escorting supply donkeys back to Chilling, and occasionally I cross a group also heading up the valley. "Tea tents" offering chai & snacks or homestays appear once in a while to reassure me I'm never far from help.

Ladakhi woman selling animal puppets hand-made from the fit from their yak, cows and goats.

Along the way I was impressed by the variety of rock you see. Here are rocks of deep green, purple and orange all next to each other.

I was happy walking until 6:30 PM to reach my target, Sara, which is farther than the standard guided trek goes on the first day. Here I found my first homestay. A very gentle man, Simje, greeted me, showed me the very comfortable room I would sleep in, and gave me a hot cup of milk tea in an ornamental cup and saucer. I felt like I had arrived in Victoria.

My first "homestay"! What a welcome sight.

Quiet, gentle Simje and his friendly wife outside of their home. There a small vegetable garden to the bottom left.

Clean water pump and parabolic sun cooker, health and environmental improvements distributed through donations from local government and NGOs like Exodus and SECMOL.

Simje began to prepare the thukpa dinner. He used lettuce, turnips and garlic from their garden. After dark, his wife came home from the fields laden with firewood, accompanied by her mother who lived with them. She apologized in broken English that I hadn't come the day before when several other trekkers had stayed and who I could have talked to. I told her I was more happy to stay and listen and learn from them. She made fresh noodles from the grains they grow in the fields. Simje and his wife have two boys, but they are over 11 years old and are in Leh for school. In the background the radio played Ladhaki music, which to my ear, sounded more Chinese than Indian.

As they were preparing dinner, her cousin arrived from up the valley. He was a teacher at a small school that served several of the villages. Previously he had been a monastery guide and also a nature guide, so he spoke pretty good English. I learned a lot from him about the local customs, fauna and traditions as we all sat around the cooking stove sipping the local butter tea, they laughing and chatting in Ladakhi, me happily observing. Butter tea is tea with lots of butter and salt. Nutritious for them as the cold weather comes maybe, but I can't say I preferred it to chai! In the morning, I'm served chai and chapatis with jam. They pack up a lunch for me, refill my water bottles with filtered water (although they have the mountain river next to them, there are villages upriver, plus cattle, sheep and donkeys that all graze nearby), and I head off.

The homestays are great. Not only do they provide a view into traditional Ladakhi life, they are dotted conveniently along the route, and they are all-inclusive for a fixed price (~$15). Besides a cozy room, they include home-cooked dinner, breakfast and packed lunch. This lunch included water refill, chapatis with jam, hard-boiled egg, potato (with salt pack), processed cheese slice (!), juice box and chocolate bar! An unfortunate amount of packaging, but enough for a meal and an afternoon snack :)

Friendly man I met along the way. The locals are accustomed to hiking several hours between villages.

On day 2, it's 22° and sunny, but becomes overcast in the afternoon again. I'm happy about that because the sun can burn easily, and I wasn't too worried about rain because the cousin from last night had told me that the valley itself only gets 10 cm a year because it is sheltered by the mountains on each side. So I realized just how incredible it is they can cultivate up here; their river irrigation techniques are highly developed.

Set of stupas near Markha (village).

Stupas and meditation caves.

Sign at ladies tea tent on day 2. This ecological and sustainability message was pretty common in the valley and in Ladakh. Their fragile ecosystem is facing severe environmental issues, but they recognize this and are working to overcome.

Eerie devotional yak and goat horns. Animism mixed with Buddhism from Tibet.

One of the bridges to cross the river. There were a few instances where there was no bridge and you had to remove your boots, roll up your pants and wade across. I was lucky - it was dry and early in the day the only time I had to cross, so it was only to below my knees. My walking pole helped though because of the uneven rocks and rushing current.

I made it to Hangkar before dinnertime. I found a homestay at far end of the village with a family with 3 small kids. The eldest was a 9 year-old girl called Tsomo who absolutely charmed me. She was tremendously caring and playful with her 1 year-old sister, Jigmat, including changing her pants and feeding her. Her 7 year-old brother came home after school. I didn't catch his name, and although he was playful, he was hyper and a bit aggressive - boys will be boys? We played ball games, and I showed them how to juggle. Through broken English, Tsomo and I played "what's your favorite?" ...colour, food, animal, and music, to which I replied "Finn". So I showed them pictures and played some of the few of Finn's songs I had on my tablet. It felt so strange, his music playing on this little box in this Himalayan home, and these 3 kids from a totally different culture trying to make heads or tails of it! They liked 'Crawl Out', Finn :)

Upper Hangkar. This is from the roof of my second homestay house. Note the peaks in the background, and the fields in the valley growing bountifully at around 4,000 m (13,000 ft)!

My homestay bedroom, with a tall pile of blankets out of view - very comfy! Note the traditional, carved window frames.

Kids with friends, and my Victorian teacup.

The kitchen in my Hangkar homestay. Tsomo's Mum is standing by the stove.

Tsomo (9), Jigmat (8 months) and their brother (7, missed his name).

Day 3 and it's only 12° now. I have two of my three long-sleeved shirts on. After 2 fairly flat days, climbing begins in earnest. I get to 4,500 m (over 16,000 feet), breathing hard with every step, and I notice my hands kind of tingle. But I make the final campsite, Nimaling, by 12:30 PM. Nimaling isn't a real village. It's only seasonal, and consists of a big, circular food tent manned by a cook and several climbing guides, and a set of 2- and 4-person sleeping tents. Nearby is a small house where a farmer has brought his herd to feed for the summer. There are a half-dozen other trekkers sipping tea when I arrive.

All the way up the valley to Nimaling, as with elsewhere in Ladakh, you pass these cairns with stones engraved with "on mani pad me om", the Buddhist chant. I was amazed to find these laborious constructions in a place I was having a hard time even breathing! You should always pass on the left / clockwise for good luck, so the path goes around both sides of them, like a roundabout.

For this photo, I was struck by the varied colors in the lichen on this huge rock, so I posed myself on the rock with the mountains on the other side of the valley. 

The second highest animal I saw. There were lots of these rabbit-y groundhog things on the plateau approaching Nimaling. When still, they are hard to distinguish from rocks. Their network of burrows was evident all around me.

The approach to Nimaling, the final tent campsite. Nimaling is the white speck right-centre below the V.  Kangmaru La is the pass over the left. Kang Yatse and its base camp are up to the right. Pretty barren, desolate, but incredibly majestic when you are surrounded by this vast landscape.

Getting there so early, and without a local family to learn from, I decide to hike 2 hours before dinner up to the 5,200 m base camp for nearby Kang Yatse, a peak of 6,400 m (yes, higher than any point in North America). Half-way there I take a detour and head off on my own up to the snow line. I pass the last animals I see, a few thick-haired horses that the guides allow to graze on the last tufts of high grass. At this elevation, and with a steep grade, I find myself taking 2 or 3 breaths per step, despite being in the best shape I've been in since high school. I spend a half hour taking in the spectacular surroundings, the full majesty of the Himalayas. It's breathtaking. Oh wait, that's the elevation. I manage to take a short video for family. It took me 2.5 hours to get there, but I return, exhilarated, in 40 minutes and in plenty of time for dinner.

At the snow line, with 6,400 m Kang Yatse shrouded in cloud behind me. I'm at about 5,200 m here, but off any trail so not sure.

In the heavens, 500 m or so above Nimaling.

Waiting for dinner, a dozen of us, from all corners of the earth, sit in a circle sharing travel stories with the sun setting behind the ridge. This includes a rasta-looking Montrealer who had convinced two Aussies he had met to split $140 with him to buy a donkey to carry their trekking gear. Every local they ran into thought this was hilarious, partly because they'd never seen a tourist who owned a donkey, and partly because they could tell the donkey was old and the three of them had basically paid to relieve a local of his problem. Still, the donkey usually did his job without complaining, and they took good care of him and gave him lots of affectionate scrubs behind the ears, which he loved.

Two Aussies with "Canadian" donkey.

Also at camp with us were a group of 4 Russians I'd come upon earlier in the day and who intending to scale Kang Yatse with a guide. And arriving late were 6 young Singapore intending to do the same. Both were equipped with climbing gear - ropes, ice crampons, the requisite guide, etc. After traveling alone for several days, this common campsite felt positively bustling. After dinner, a family of Israelis taught me a Russian game called "Dummy" that's kind of like euchre and hearts together. When I finally won a game to much cheering, I retired to my tent, wrapped myself in long-underwear, 3 long-sleeved shirts, my bandana as a headscarf, and climbed under two covers and worked myself to sleep.

I got up on my last day to find we were surrounded by cloud / mist. It was 2°. After sharing a hot breakfast and several cups of chai I packed up and started off towards Kangmaru La, the 5,400 m high pass between Nimaling and much lower Shang Sumdo, the pick-up point to get back to Leh. I ended up climbing at the same speed as Tom (a young Brit I'd met in both Moustache and Leh) and "J2" (an Indian from Bangalore Tom had partnered with for trekking) and we continued together.

We reach the pass before noon. It's windy and snowy and 1°. Visibility is about 150 m, so unfortunately photo-taking the surrounding peaks at this highest point on our trek is impossible. We suppose that neither climbing party will be able to scale Kang Yatse today. I think to myself how glad I am that I hiked up to the snowline the day before to get a great view, and feel the wonder of the place.

Enjoying the weather at 5,400 m Kangmaru La (pass). I have on a T-shirt, three long-sleeve shirts, my raincoat, long-underwear and pants, and even the gloves I bought for motorbiking. Visibility about 150 m.

At the pass we decide to have lunch. Upon opening the lunches the tent guides have made for us, from supplies carried 3 days to, young Tom remarks "this fried rice is crappy. Food should be for enjoying". I think to myself, once again, expectations make us unhappy. Here is Tom, in the splendour of the Himalayas, healthy, and with a meal provided to sustain him back to civilization (elements of which were all trekked up for 3 days), and he is focused on what he doesn't have. So often, we focus on what we don't have. There is ALWAYS a positive way one can view one's circumstances. Give yourself some perspective. Traveling should do that.

We start the steep climb down the north side of the pass. While the 3-or 4-day climb up to the pass had been pretty straightforward, this descent is steeper, and with more drop-offs. At one point we find the remains of an unfortunate pack-horse who must have slipped and fallen to the rocky river bed hundreds of metres below. I keep thinking of how they got Tsomo's class of 8-year-olds along here safely when they visited Leh last year!

J2 and Tom descending on the far side of Kangmaru La.

Unfortunate casualty from precipitous mountain passage.

Different geology again. This one looks straight out of Mordor.

Looking behind me as I approach Shang Sumdo and the end of the trek. The black dot at the bottom of the black line coming down from to right is one of my party close behind.

At a tea tent half way to Shang Sumdo, out of the inclement weather and in warning temperature, we catch up to two Germans who have been trekking very aggressively for several weeks, one of them admits "TOO fast!" He's exhausted. Were trying to reach the pick-up point before 5 as we hear there's a mini-bus that leaves there today. As my pack is the lightest, and the others feet are stressed crossing the rocky trail in running shoes, I lead off at a quick pace to catch the bus. I make it before 5 to find there is no bus, but I secure a good price for an SUV back to Leh for the 5 of us. We finally relax over chai before climbing into the car exhausted but happy to be going "home".

10. Leh Ladakh Part 1: a Buddhist festival, motorbiking the Himalayas, and granola tourism

Leh, Ladakh - "the land of high mountain passes"

Leh is the principal municipality in Ladakh, a special region within India's northwestern Jammu and Kashmir province. Leh was my first and perhaps only 'hard' destination. This wasn't because of detailed tourist planning, but because I knew it's normally cool while most of the rest of India suffers uncomfortably from the waning summer heat and humidity of monsoons. In fact, although I knew from reading and travelers I met in Delhi that Ladakh was beautiful and interesting, generally I prefer not to hear second-hand too much about a place before arriving, so I don't have expectations (which often lead to disappointment) and instead appreciate everything I discover with open eyes and surprise. I like traveling that is discovery, not a checklist.

The main bazaar of Leh, looking up towards the 17th century Royal Palace.

Situated between the Himalayan and Karakoram mountain ranges, in a large valley at 3,700 m above sea level, Leh is unique in its geography, culture and people. First of all, Leh is in the Himalayas. In fact, "Ladakh" means 'the land of high mountain passes', and its roads include the highest navigable motorways in the world. Every single view includes an incredibly monumental and beautiful mountain setting , usually through crisp, brilliant and zero-haze sunshine.  Secondly, from a cultural perspective, it is predominantly Tibetan Buddhist, so the landscape is dotted with monasteries, stupas (devotional monuments of all sizes), and prayer flags flapping their goodwill messages in the wind. The Tibetan Buddhist culture sets it apart from south India's ___ Buddhism and even from the rest of Jammu & Kashmir which is predominantly Muslim, being next to Pakistan. Finally, Ladakh is populated primarily by the Ladakhi people, a population of only ~550,000 (that's only 0.5% of India's 1 billion inhabitants), and who are more closely related to Tibetans than Indians . The Ladakhis are quiet, gentle, resourceful, honest and extremely gracious people. Their history of cooperative and self-sufficient living is documented in the excellent film "Ancient Futures".

Panorama view of Leh from atop the Palace.

Leh itself is an interesting town of trekking, biking & river-raft outfitters (run by reserved Ladhakis); handicraft and pashmina & cashmere (Kashmir) cloth shops (run mostly by Muslims from Srinigar / Kashmir and therefore more aggressive salesmen); and mostly vegetarian and/or organic restaurants - call it all "granola tourism". There are lots of posters for eco-aware options (like water refill stations instead of bottled water, because bottles can't economically be recycled from Leh) and local food and handicraft outlets. The restaurants typically cover a huge international menu. Almost all serve Italian pizzas and pastas, Thai soups, hamburgers and especially Israeli cuisine. (I met more Israelis here than any other nationality of traveler. Apparently many Israelis come here after their 2-year [women] or 3-year [men] military service.) Also served are the local specialties Thukpa, a thick noodle soup with tasty vegetables, and Momos which are steamed dumplings stuffed with meat or vegetables accompanied by chili sauce. One family-run restaurant I was introduced to in an out-of-the-way corner also served big, thick, fluffy pancakes with Apricot jam that were maybe even more fantastic than the ones I used to make from scratch Sunday mornings for Hadrian and Finn! Several times I went here at night to order a pancake to take with me on an excursion early the following morning. Delicious. And always chai - or as they call it here, "milk tea".

This is the view west of the main, L-shaped bazaar. Local Norlakh Restaurant is upstairs on the left kind of beside the tree. On the right are the ATMs from which we regularly withdrew a max of 10,000 rupees, or about $190, good for a week's expenses excluding travel. The roadway looks extra messy because Leh is undergoing a 'beautification' project, including upgrading the central sewer system under the main road.

Very strange: pink and orange chicks for sale on the main street. Are these organic??

Did I mention Leh was 'outdoorsy'?

One other important fact about Ladakh I learned is that it is situated at a critical place in India - between Pakistan and China. On both fronts, there are political and cultural tensions. As part of Kashmir (although Muslims are only a minority), it's ownership is contested. Also, China is  flexing its muscles to the North. I'd heard that China considers Ladakh to be like Tibet, and therefore a candidate for annexation. Last year apparently the Chinese came across the border which caused great tension. Now, at the same time as leaders Modi and Xi work on closer and closer ties between their increasingly important economies, each wishes to downplay the political tension that exists between them over Ladakh. Meanwhile, the peaceful and distinct Ladakhi people call for more autonomy and self-suffiiency.

Walking around the hilly town means absorbing the clouds of diesel exhaust from the many lories bringing supplies from the South and heeding the incessant beeps and honks from mopeds and motorcyles that squirm among the many pedestrians. It also means sharing the narrow roads with ox and the many stray dogs and the occasional goat. The number of tourists to Leh and Ladakh is growing at double-digit rates, and despite India-leading environmental policies (the local government banned plastic bags 20 years ago), this is putting a great strain on the fragile ecosystem. The main bazaar street is currently being dug up to install a more modern principle sewage pipe as part of a "Leh Beautification" project.

Because Leh is at high elevation (3,700 m), tourists are recommended to drink lots of water and take it easy the first day or two, especially if you arrived by air or even via the Manali route. On the first day, Nick & Donovan, the Austrians I arrived with from Leh, went to investigate motorcycles. I climbed the short hike to the 9-story Palace in town.

A view of Tsemo Castle from the 8th level of the Palace. I hiked up to the Castle twice and each day the entrance was closed, but it was a good hike, and beautiful view.

View inside one of the rooms of the Palace

Inside the Soma Gompa next to the Palace, with its 1,000 unique paintings of a 1,000 incarnations of the Buddha.

Prayer flags stretching across to Leh Castle.

Oxen and stupas, outskirts of Leh.

On the long way back from the castle, we noticed these power boxes next to an odd-shaped building, and an old woman carrying dried cow paddies. Is it possible that Leh, in its environmentally-conscious way, had a dung power generator??

The Himalayas by Motorcycle, Part 1

Well Mum, the good news is I haven't ridden on top of a train (yet). The bad news is I motorcycled in the Himalayas. But you only found out after I made it home safely!

Nick and Donovan pushed for me to join them for a day of motorbiking in the region. Despite not having been on a motorbike for several decades, and my last experience flipping a moped in Greece and knocking myself out, I agreed. The next day, the 3 of us set out on our 500 cc (Donovan) or 350 cc (Nick and me) Indian-made Royal Enfields. I gotta admit, it was pretty fun and liberating. It's a little crazy because a) it's India so nominally you drive on the unfamiliar left-side of the road (driving my rental in Scotland might have helped here), and b) this isn't Ottawa - on the streets you navigate around animals, pedestrians, and various and 2-, 3- and 4-wheeled vehicles all sharing the road on a first-come, first-served basis. There are no lanes to speak of - much less passing lanes - so it's a bit of a free-for-all - pass where you can; try not to hit anything; any open space is fair game, no matter which direction you're coming from. But you feel free too: go anywhere, no rules or street police, the open air and leaning into the road under you. Anyway, Nick had scoped out some monasteries on the south road towards Manali that we could get to within an hour or two, so we filled up our tanks and headed out. Soon after starting, I noticed my rear brake was very weak. I had brought a multi-tool Gill had given me for Christmas one year and it was just the thing to adjust the rear brake; we felt very industrious! The drive was fantastic, Donovan the experienced one usually in front and Nick and I taking turns zooming by the other. It was nice to be able to stop wherever for food, refreshments or to take photos - a short but real road trip. Visiting the monasteries was very interesting as they provide a glimpse into the region's ancient Buddhist traditions (more on that later).

The open road!

A field of stupas (shrines) south of Leh.

Huge Buddha shrine being built near Matho.

Doing my best Easy Rider pose. Note how entirely dependent these high desert communities are on mountain rivers and age-old irrigation techniques.

Nick in a panorama by Shey Monastery.

Nick, Donovan, me. This was a plateau off-road north of the Indus River merge at Nimoo. We felt "on top of the world", literally and figuratively.

Sensational sunset panorama near Nimoo, where the Zanskar River (centre) merges with the Indus River (left). The white water rafts land at the junction. Up the Zanskar River a bit is Chilling, where I got dropped off to begin my trek. Note the 3 stupas at right.

We had enough time to drive back and head west of Leh, on the road towards Srinigar.  As the sun grew closer to the horizon, and the time we had to return the bikes grew nearer, we kept looking at each other and wondering how far to go before turning back. One more village? Luckily, we got as far as the road down to Nimmu, and experienced the most beautiful view and landscape (see photos). We came home happy and excited, having experienced a view of Ladakh that only a road trip would allow.

3rd Annual Buddhist & Cultural Festival of Ladakh

The next day Nick and Donovan went for a 4-5 day guided trek in the Markha Valley.  I had planned to go with them but withdrew over conflict with Leh's "3rd International Buddhist and Cultural Festival of Ladakh", hosted by the Mahabodhi Centre. Buddhism was an important reasons I came to Ladakh, and I could go on a trek later, so I stayed in town.  The festival was a curious and somewhat pedantic 3 days including speeches by revered Buddhist Rinpoches (bishops?), regional and national government officials (e.g. the Minister of Tribal Affairs), and local dignitaries. Each spent several minutes acknowledging and praising the 20 or so other speakers before talking. We were bused around the region and were provided tours of the most important monasteries. Finally, there were several interesting cultural performances of dancers accompanied by terrific drummers and horn players.

Hemis Monastry: the largest and most active Ladakh monastery. I came here once with Nick and Donovan, and once more with hundreds of people as part of the Buddhism and Cultural Festival, when a rare performance of the Buddhist mask dance was performed.

Solitary retreat guest house a short climb up from Hemis Monastery, with small stupa or "chorten" shrine at upper left beside what might be a meditation cave, and always the brilliant, blue sky with magnificent cloud formations.

A friendly monk I met at Hemis Monastery. A word about monks: traditionally the 2nd soon is sent to the monastery, while the first assumes repositioning for the family farm. Note the Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap.

  

This is a monk who was driving a few of us to an event from the festival. Notice the Samsung smartphone. I saw a lot of monks with nice cell phones. I sawa lot of monks rushing here and there. I saw young monks chatting up schoolgirls their age. This all seems to align with what one traveler told me, which was that many boys are sent to the local monastery, but their heart's not in it. Once they have spent a few years, they leave the monastery and return to lay life.

Local woman spinning prayer wheels (always clockwise for good luck), Hemis. What's interesting is that these ones are covered in leather - animal skin. In another temple, I saw a petrified goat suspended from the ceiling. This indicates the degree of spiritual animism that permeates Tibetan Buddhism (from the Mayahana branch of Buddhism) compared to Theraveda Buddhism practiced in the further south of India.

For some reason, at the same time as the Buddhist and Culture festival were a Yoga and Meditation festival, as well as a Buddhist film festival. Since I love film so much, it meant I had to skip some of the other events to see some film. One of the films I watched was about some young monks who had to beg and borrow to get a TV to watch the world cup in a ramshackle viewing room in the middle of nowhere where the TV signal kept breaking during the match. I watched this film in a ramshackle viewing room in the middle of nowhere where the PC ("This copy of Windows is not genuine") and projector kept breaking during the screening. The irony was not lost on me.

Lake Tsimoriri (Motorbikes, Part 2)

When Nick and Donovan returned, we decided to rent bikes again and go to Lake Tsomoriri, a beautiful high lake in the Himalayas about 8 hours (220 km) away. The lake is at 4,595 m (15,075 ft) and it is the largest of the high altitude lakes in the Trans-Himalayan region. On the way is also the area of Ladakh where they raise the unique sheep which produce the sought-after pashmina wool. Most tourists go to Lake Pangong on a long day trip by shared jeep, but the bikes allowed us to venture further and have more freedom.

Unfortunately, we were beset by lots of mechanical problems, including not having bikes with racks, which meant we had to loosely secure cheap, plastic jerry cans for the extra fuel needed to make the round trip. Also, my bike and Nick's had ignition problems. We stopped and got new spark plugs, which helped Nick but only briefly helped me. Turns out I had the wrong size spark plug put it. This meant my bike struggled going uphill at high elevation. So, we headed uphill at high elevation. When Donovan's 10 liter plastic jerry can also sprung a leak, we filled our tanks and tried to secretly hide the container and it's remaining fuel in some rocks beside the road. At one stop we met Daniel, a friendly Brit biking to New Zealand.  How he had climbed and traversed the rough, rough mountain roads to Leh I'll never know. Amazingly, he hadn't had a flat in India yet.

On the way to Tsomoriri, with fuel I'll need to get back strapped precariously to the bike.

Inhospitable terrain makes for slow progress.

A bridge over the river coming from Lake Tsomoriri.

One of several places where we had to stop while bulldozers shoved landslide over the cliff edge. The mountain roads are a constant work-in-progress, and are at the whim of rain washouts and other erosion.

It was getting dark, so we stopped at this guest house 45 km short of the lake for a hot meal and a night's rest, not knowing for sure how long that last bit would take.

By nightfall we still hadn't reached  lake, so we stopped at a homestay about 40 km short. Early the next morning we had breakfast and headed to the lake.  The last half hour was in first gear over a very rough gravel path where workers were sorting rocks for placement on a road under development. Super laborious job under challenging conditions. Someone told me they thought the workers were inmates on detail. I don't know, but many were friendly and said 'Jullay' or waved as we passed ("Jullay" is the ubiquitous Ladakhi expression that means 'hello', 'goodbye', and 'thank you' as needed!)

Landscape approaching Lake Tsomoriri at nearly 4,600 m.

Nick, Donovan and me at Lake Tsomoriri. I think Nick and Donovan are on opposite sides of the meridian...

We arrived around 10:30 in the morning and took some photos from a lookout high above the lake. As the 220 km journey to the lake was slow, we were concerned about getting back to Leh before nightfall, even though it would be primarily descent. Also, we had estimated fuel consumption, but with jerry cans leaking in transit, and having added a couple of water bottles worth of fuel at different stops, we weren't positive we had enough to get back to the nearest gas station 50 km outside of Leh. So we immediately started heading back in an unfortunate rush, concerned about returning by 8 PM when I had to return my bike (Donovan and Nick planned to keep the bikes the next day and go north of Leh to Khardung-La pass, purported to be the highest navigable road in the world). So we didn't even touch the lake - sad face - but the landscape was incredible. Daniel, the bicyclist heading to new Zealand, had been obliged to hitch a ride into the park as no one can enter solo (for safety). Biking e last couple of hours, he arrived at Lake Tsomoriri just as we were leaving - congrats, Daniel!!

Daniel, the Brit heading by bicycle to New Zealand. On the way, just for fun, he biked up to the lake at 4,600 meters.

Me at Lake Tsomoriri.

My bike still could not accelerate much, I couldn't really run it higher than 2,000 rpm, and I was afraid I was slowing up Donovan and Nick, although we had all got 500 ccs this time which helped. All in all, though, I felt rushed.  Going down one particularly twisty, switch-back section of road, I felt like I was being very cautious, but there was some sand and gravel on the outside of one of the corners and I dropped the bike in a sudden panic.  Luckily, it was not a steep corner and I wasn't going fast. Nick was behind me and stopped immediately to check how I was. I felt OK, my elbow scratched, but fine. One glove had ripped through but saved my hand from any harm. The bike was fine except for the front guard was loose. Again, we used the multi-tool to tighten it up and off we went. We finally made it back to Leh with plenty of fuel and before dark. Mission accomplished! Although it was great fun, I was glad my biking in the Himalayas adventure was over - whew!

Scar from fall of motorcycle, a week later. Bigger concern was my bruised hip - I couldn't climb stairs when I got back to Leh, and I planned to go on a 5-day trek the following day!

I realized soon after the fall that I had bruised my hip - no blood, nothing broken, but bruised. In fact, when we arrived in Leh, I found I could barely walk up stairs. I wasn't worried in the long run,. but I was set to go on my trek and I was very upset that this accident could prevent me from hiking. I decided to take advantage of an extra day in town, and "walk it off". I also rented a walking stick - basically, and adjustable length ski pole - and both helped me get the hip from 50% to 80%. On the second day, I climbed into a bus for Chilling and started my 4- to 5-day solo hike through the Markha Valley!

Friends

Interesting people I met during this time included:  Brian, an elder gent from New Zealand who first hitchhiked to India 40 years ago; Vijer, the "ex-Muslim" tech from Bangalore with progressive views on world religions (late campfire chat); Tim, the unusually calm & gentle German, soul-seeking mystic (a Rinpoche joked he wanted a spectacular beard like Tim's, "but not in this lifetime!"); and Harry, the disconsolate Welsh woman who had to return home soon after traveling the world for a year and feared going back and living a "normal life".

Next: My Markha Valley trek and a Buddhist Meditation Retreat, or how to calm right down after doing crazy things in Ladakh.