The magnificent Himalayas 
Picking green peas in Kibber 
A shy but welcoming smile in KibberF—Ford and fall. Although we traversed roads—in the technical sense of the word—our route was by no means easy. The “best” roads were the places where there was more pavement than potholes, but this didn’t mean that the asphalt was always visible, like the many times we had to ford a stream or melting glacier. Fortunately, there was no rushing water where I fell from my throne behind Bernie. But my bruises painfully reminded me for days that there were plenty of rocks there. Thankfully, I was able to continue riding.
G—Guard rails, Gatuk, and green peas. Some of our roads were mere passageways, little more than paths carved into mountainsides and hanging 300 feet or more above the rocky gorge floor—and no, there weren’t guard rails. Warmer memories surround Gatuk, the 22-year-old young woman with the beautiful smile who shared Abby’s hospital room. (As with the word “road,” it's a big stretch to write “hospital room,” but it’s best to leave more descriptive terms out of this blog so you won’t get sick at your stomach.) We also enjoyed the laughter of women who were picking green peas in Kibber (see K).
H—Himalayas, helmet, and horn. No matter what we faced, the scenery of the Himalayas was beyond description and worth every challenge. While we might have been tempted to ride with the wind blowing through our hair, Cheryl’s first thought when her head hit the ground was, “Thank God for this helmet” (see F). We wore them religiously. We also used our horns religiously, just like all good Indian drivers. They believe the vehicle’s horn is as important as its engine! However, our horns more often coaxed long-haired goats, sheep, and donkeys off the road rather than other vehicles.
I—“Inconvenience Regretted,” IV, and Independence Day. The mountain roads may have been terrible, but at least the Indian government felt terrible too. They politely and profusely apologized through signs declaring, “Inconvenience Regretted.” That was the most common sign we saw and we came to expect them at least several times daily. What we didn’t expect was that Abby would be hospitalized and receive several bottles of fluids and medicines through IV drips. As a result, we unexpectedly got to celebrate India’s Independence Day—August 15—in the village of Kaza (see K).
J—Jeep, Jispa, and jalebi. We six on motorcycles had a support crew of six men who traveled in a supply truck (ahead) and a jeep (behind). What a great crew! Imagine eating homemade pizza (from scratch) while camping! Our last night found us in the tiny village of Jispa where we enjoyed a fantastic dinner of roasted lamb and vegetables. I was happy it did not include jalebi, a fried, overly sweet honey treat. (My liking of Indian cuisine doesn’t include Indian sweets.)
K—Kibber and Kaza. Some of my favorite experiences were in two villages: Kibber, reputed to be the highest village in the world at 4,200 meters (13,780 feet); and Kaza, where we got to enjoy indoor plumbing, hot showers, and a bed after nights of camping. While thoughts of the hospital in Kaza cause me to shudder, the friendliness and surprisingly good English of people in Kibber and Kaza leave me feeling warm all over.
L—Lassi, Limca, and litter. Two wonderful drinks we enjoyed: lassi (a sweetened yogurt drink, even more delicious when thickened with fresh banana or other fruit) and Limca (a lemon-lime soft drink that’s easy on the stomach). Something we did not enjoy was the litter everywhere humans were. Sadly, caring for the environment doesn’t seem to be included anywhere in India’s race towards development and advancement.
M—Manali, marijuana, and mechanic. Our starting/finishing point was Manali, a small town of fewer than 7,000 people in Himachal Pradesh state. It is known for apple orchards, great views of Himalaya peaks, and for marijuana. The air was so thick with the smell of burning marijuana that you could almost get high by just taking a morning walk. I didn’t need that headache. But we did need our mechanic. All of us agreed that he had magical hands (see E).
N—Nasty and nice. Along with the litter and some odors (see L and M), the nasty: exhaust fumes from trucks (fortunately of nine days, we contended with this for only three); pit toilets (but worse yet were the places where people didn’t even bother to use the toilets); the hospital in Kaza (see K); and some of the effects of high altitudes (you’ll appreciate no details). Happily nice prevailed: “Betty” served in our tents by Deependra (see B and C) who also gave much attention each morning to our breakfast table—a tarp on the ground, to be sure, but set out with great style; breathtaking mountain views; camping where we were the only people for miles around; and wonderful friends with whom to share wonderful adventures.
Coming soon: the third and final part.
G—Guard rails, Gatuk, and green peas. Some of our roads were mere passageways, little more than paths carved into mountainsides and hanging 300 feet or more above the rocky gorge floor—and no, there weren’t guard rails. Warmer memories surround Gatuk, the 22-year-old young woman with the beautiful smile who shared Abby’s hospital room. (As with the word “road,” it's a big stretch to write “hospital room,” but it’s best to leave more descriptive terms out of this blog so you won’t get sick at your stomach.) We also enjoyed the laughter of women who were picking green peas in Kibber (see K).
H—Himalayas, helmet, and horn. No matter what we faced, the scenery of the Himalayas was beyond description and worth every challenge. While we might have been tempted to ride with the wind blowing through our hair, Cheryl’s first thought when her head hit the ground was, “Thank God for this helmet” (see F). We wore them religiously. We also used our horns religiously, just like all good Indian drivers. They believe the vehicle’s horn is as important as its engine! However, our horns more often coaxed long-haired goats, sheep, and donkeys off the road rather than other vehicles.
I—“Inconvenience Regretted,” IV, and Independence Day. The mountain roads may have been terrible, but at least the Indian government felt terrible too. They politely and profusely apologized through signs declaring, “Inconvenience Regretted.” That was the most common sign we saw and we came to expect them at least several times daily. What we didn’t expect was that Abby would be hospitalized and receive several bottles of fluids and medicines through IV drips. As a result, we unexpectedly got to celebrate India’s Independence Day—August 15—in the village of Kaza (see K).
J—Jeep, Jispa, and jalebi. We six on motorcycles had a support crew of six men who traveled in a supply truck (ahead) and a jeep (behind). What a great crew! Imagine eating homemade pizza (from scratch) while camping! Our last night found us in the tiny village of Jispa where we enjoyed a fantastic dinner of roasted lamb and vegetables. I was happy it did not include jalebi, a fried, overly sweet honey treat. (My liking of Indian cuisine doesn’t include Indian sweets.)
K—Kibber and Kaza. Some of my favorite experiences were in two villages: Kibber, reputed to be the highest village in the world at 4,200 meters (13,780 feet); and Kaza, where we got to enjoy indoor plumbing, hot showers, and a bed after nights of camping. While thoughts of the hospital in Kaza cause me to shudder, the friendliness and surprisingly good English of people in Kibber and Kaza leave me feeling warm all over.
L—Lassi, Limca, and litter. Two wonderful drinks we enjoyed: lassi (a sweetened yogurt drink, even more delicious when thickened with fresh banana or other fruit) and Limca (a lemon-lime soft drink that’s easy on the stomach). Something we did not enjoy was the litter everywhere humans were. Sadly, caring for the environment doesn’t seem to be included anywhere in India’s race towards development and advancement.
M—Manali, marijuana, and mechanic. Our starting/finishing point was Manali, a small town of fewer than 7,000 people in Himachal Pradesh state. It is known for apple orchards, great views of Himalaya peaks, and for marijuana. The air was so thick with the smell of burning marijuana that you could almost get high by just taking a morning walk. I didn’t need that headache. But we did need our mechanic. All of us agreed that he had magical hands (see E).
N—Nasty and nice. Along with the litter and some odors (see L and M), the nasty: exhaust fumes from trucks (fortunately of nine days, we contended with this for only three); pit toilets (but worse yet were the places where people didn’t even bother to use the toilets); the hospital in Kaza (see K); and some of the effects of high altitudes (you’ll appreciate no details). Happily nice prevailed: “Betty” served in our tents by Deependra (see B and C) who also gave much attention each morning to our breakfast table—a tarp on the ground, to be sure, but set out with great style; breathtaking mountain views; camping where we were the only people for miles around; and wonderful friends with whom to share wonderful adventures.
Coming soon: the third and final part.
