The snow melts away. The challenges recede. We ride free. Through tarmac, through dust, through streams seldom travelled. There's a childishness in our revs, a sense of freedom in our paths. We have entered Himachal. The terrain celebrates as lush green vegetation rushes up to line our path.
Many miles later, and riding several hours on reserve, we will find ourselves in Keylong. We halt for hunger. I halt in desperation to defecate. I will visit restroom several times. Each time, on my return, Spiderweb and Motorbreath will let out "Aaahhhhhhh!"s in mock relief.
I find them whispering to a member of the fairer sex - perhaps informing her of the purpose of my regular disappearance. I find her laughing incredulously. We strike up a conversation, her and I. She speaks of her employment with Sony Big TV, of her solo travels across Ladhak, asks us of our adventures, aids us in getting quicker service, introduces us to some of her new found friends and finally disappears into her quarters. As a parting gift, she informs me that the nearest petrol pump is but a few miles away at Tandi - an unbelievable relief for we had expected not to get a drop until Manali. I had expected to run out much sooner. I will leave with but a thought thanking her.
Through ups and downs and mud and grime, we finally make it to Tandi where we will refuel our steeds to the brim. In a casual conversation with a curious onlooker, Spiderweb will concede that the R-15 outperformed the others owing to its FI, much to my disinterested amusement.
Many more miles will roll on by. Spiderweb will push harder. I sense he hopes to catch up with the Poles. We will hit a small settlement and find the Poles walking the streets. We will reconnect with them only to be told that they can go no further. A comrade has now has impaired vision due to a bee sting on his eye lid. I recall bees splattering on my visor a few miles out.
They ask us of RomeoMike. I grudgingly inform them that we left him behind. There's disappointment in their eyes. There's disappointment in my soul. We shouldn't have left him. I curse myself, a practice that will continue for the length of our journey to Manali.
Spiderweb will encourage us to camp with the Poles. There's just one problem. None has any money left. The last of our cash was spent refuelling the steeds. The closest ATM, it would appear, awaits us in Manali. We must not stop. We cannot stop.
We will trudge on, through thick and thin. The ascend to Rohtang will be choked by dense fog impenetrable by beams. We push through for we have pushed through far greater. Our progress will be commemorated by snow flakes shimmering around us like star dust. Several brooks cross our path. Our metal hugs their icy embrace.
We will eventually scale the pass. What I see will dishearten me. For the wretched hands of Commerce have raped the land. Tents in yellow and blue marr the landscape. Plastic waste suffocates the terrain.
My camera will take one last shot, before it gives in.
The descend from Rohtang is brutal. In a path laced with potholes, public and pissed off commuters, our steeds struggle for traction. My feet grow numb and my wrists scream in agony as the R-15 gets knocked around mercilessly.
In time, we make it, disheartened, disgruntled and with a great disdain for the commercialization of Rohtang. My mind turns to the several miles of freshly laid tarmac deep within the value, allowing for an increasing number of casual tourers, raping the land, stone by stone, bit my bit. Indeed we are the precursors to a much larger movement. One, if not contained, will some day bring the valley to its knees.
Twice over, Spiderweb will try and convince us to halt, to take refuge in a settlement. Twice over, we must remind him that we haven't a penny left. We will bear the brunt of misguided anger. In darkness and pain, we will make our way to Manali. Spiderweb will remind us, several times, that we had slowed him down. For if it were up to him, he would have hit Manali several hours ago. We say nothing. His childishness exhausts me. My guilt over leaving RomeoMike behind devours me.
Exhausted, defeated, we will find shelter in the first lodge we find.
As night falls, my phone buzzes incessantly. This is the first time I've heard it ring in 15 straight days. The name the screen flashes brings a tear to my eye...
It's Romeomike. And a call from him could mean only one thing...
He's in Manali.
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