I secretly applaud myself for having the good sense to charge both my phone and the camera to the brim; for today brings forth images that memory alone cannot capture. Whereas the camera lacks space, the iPhone lacks resolution. But the amalgam of the two provides me with all the pixels I need to capture some of what I experience. All of what I experience may be experienced by experience alone.
Spiderweb throws a liner into his jacket and adds mittens underneath his gloves. We resume our journey and I can tell that we have begun our ascend to Fotula, for the path gets thinner, the rocks thicker and the gravel denser.
Ten minutes into the ride and the Zanskar range brings forth a fury that rattles us in inconceivable ways. Cross-winds pound against our hardhats, cause our metal to stumble and drag us against the vertical ascend. I'm too petrified to rejoice the fact that this is the first snow fall I experience in all of 33 years. For the experience is an uncomfortable one. Wind and snow pound my face mercilessly. I try pulling down my vizor, but a scratched surface and a paste of snow eliminate visibility almost instantaneously. I pull the vizor back up. The snow flakes sting as they make their way through the crevices in my hard hat settling quickly onto my spectacles and, once again, eliminate visibility. I try working without spectacles but a concoction of dust and snow lash out against my eyeballs. The snow melts on impact and does what it does best; eliminates visibility.
I struggle desperately to stay on course as I try to maneuver the graphite away from a fatal fall. I have lost sensation in my fingers. It only occurs to me now that I am still gloveless. My sensory system gave in many shocks ago. I signal Spiderweb asking him to stop. Motorobreath turns the bend and fails to see us halt. He will have to catch up with him. I take one last video shot of our surroundings. I can do no more. I have neither strength, nor sensation, nor courage.
With gloves firmly in place, we ride once more. For once, I am convinced it is better to stay on course than halt for pictures.
To date I have revered the Universe for its magnanimity. Indeed I have spoken of its beauty not hours ago. I have referred to it as beautiful. I have referred to it as grand. I have referred to it as fair. I have thought of it with a sense of wonder and love and affection.
But the purity of my thought towards it dies today for it is today that I experience the evil of the Universe. For I have experienced the wrath of nature sitting in the comfort of my home. I have experienced the wrath of nature only through the torment of others. I have watched them suffer within the confines of my idiot box. I have watched them cry over those they lost. I have watched them express fear over nature's fury. I have pretended to understand, pretended to care, all the while secretly admiring the Universe for its infinite power. But from what I observe today, I conclude only this:
The Universe and its bastard child, Nature, are mother-fucking bullies.
I will change my stance some other day. But right here, right now, cornered and stifled between rocks and hard places, I can only express my spite for the big bully. It toys with us. It toys with our existence. It shows no mercy. Several times we have been pushed towards objects that will demolish us with frightening ease. Often times we are blinded. A few times rubber has hit rubble sending rider and ride careening towards the edge of the cliff. The storm surrounds us; darkens all. I am enveloped in fear I have seldom known. With fear comes anger, adrenaline and the fight or flee response. In our particular situation, we can only attempt to flee.
We pass Fotula but we dare not stop. Three more kilometers and one man-made structure catches my eye. My gut response is to reach for the camera. But my numb fingers can barely manage to keep pace with the momentum. They struggle to squeeze the clutch. I cannot stop. I cannot capture for the Universe threatens to capture and devour me. We keep pushing our steeds but the vision of the structure remains with me. I need to capture it. I need to remember it. There is nothing special about the structure and yet I feel drawn to it. Perhaps its the impossibility of pixellating anything in the present circumstance that makes the thought of capturing it so seductive. I do not know. All I know is that I need to. I cannot fathom the intensity of my need in its entirety. I can merely experience it one trickle at a time.
We ride many more kilometers, three more to be exact. And as we turn a bend, within moments, the storm disappears; gone, just like that, as if it never happened. No clouds, no winds... nothing, just the peaceful welcoming warmth of a valley that promised to wipe us off the face of this earth not minutes ago.
Bitch.
I turn to Spiderweb and propose that we return so that we may pixellate the structure we left behind, not to mention capture our presence at Fotula. Spiderweb discerns, perhaps justifiably, that I have completely lost my mind. But my need is too great to listen to reason. I want to go back. I need to go back. Spiderweb tries to convince me that the storm may return, that it is perhaps ludicrously dangerous for us to revert. I'm not listening. He isn't willing to risk going back but he understands he cannot reason with me anymore. And so, he does all he can do, he promises to wait where we stand while I ride 6 kms back to Fotula, grab some images and come back down. Several curves in the distance below, we've located Motorbreath. He sees us and waves. We signal him to wait where he stands as I turn my steed around and head back uphill.
I'm pumped. My mind races at the speed of scattered thoughts of life and living and the fragility of it all. I meet a few heavy vehicles headed downhill, steer around them and keep a cautious, constant rev until I finally arrive at the structure I romanced these past few minutes. The winds have since tempered down but not enough to put me at ease. I get my images, head up to Fotula, get some more and zip back down. As I approach the structure again, I halt once more. I don't really know why but I just need to spend some time sitting alongside it. I make the mistake of leaving my gloves nestled loosely underneath the bungie chords. The winds drag one of them out towards the cliff. I find it hanging precariously on a shrub. I recover it without incident.
I'm shaking with the adrenalin rush of the experience I experienced. I'm shaking with the experience of having life in me. I'm shaking with the excitement at the prospect of sharing these experiences with those that did not follow. I'm shaking with the pinch of a bitter cold, one that seems sweet for I can feel again. I am numb, I am exhausted, I am happy, I am alive. As I ride my way back, I can feel tears trickling down my face. The Universe knows what I knew not. That in my insignificance lies my humility. And in my humility lies my greatness. For only in the face of fear will I commit acts that I deem worthy of the brave; not by external standards but by standards of my own. For only in the adversity will a simple photo expedition become an adventure. For only in these acts will I redeem myself, only to be humiliated again by the might of the Universe and so the cycle shall continue. And lest I forget, the Universe will teach me this very lesson once again in the days to come.
I reconnect with Spiderweb. He has spent his time capturing frames of our rendezvous point. Motorbreath continues to wait for us in the distance. Aman's whereabouts are a mystery. Not long into the ride, we are re-introduced to tar on NH-1D. Flawless tarmac with delicious corners. We rip through with Motorbreath leading us. He manages to gain ground on us and we lose him to speed this time. Spiderweb and I stop to shoot videos of us riding down the NH-1D. We find Motorbreath waiting for us at a chai tapri many minutes down the road. We are offered warm water so we can massage our fingers back to sanity. We meet an army personnel who suggests we break at Lamayuru a few miles away for parts of our road to Leh would be a challenge after sunset.
As I look into the distance, I see a snow storm brewing again. I smile; one other will learn a lesson today... the hard way.
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