Bulls on Parade to Prashar

The Prashar Potents

7-9 Aug 2015

Solitude. It best describes the destination. You are sitting high up in the Himalayas in the dense greenery, raindrops falling down your shoulders, besides a tranquil lake with a floating island in the centre of it. Who needs Yoga when you've got a motorcycle?

As for the participants, there were just the two of us:

Asok Rana - Royal Enfield Electra 4S - The Unstoppable

Diptinder Singh Chhabra - Royal Enfield Electra 4S - The Pessimist

The monsoon season was at its peak. Lots of wet riding would be in the offing. Like every year, this time too there were reports of landslides in the hills. This is a difficult trade-off. It is in such times that hills are full of vegetation. Moreover, lots of groups head out to Ladakh in this time only when the mountain passes are open. Our destination was relatively closer and at much less altitude. Every month brings its own challenges and August should not be left out without a Ride. 

7th Aug 2015:

A two-person ride has many advantages. We met at 4:05 am at Shiv Murti near Mahipalpur and the Ride started. No waiting for others to join. Distances were covered quickly. Tracking was very easy as we had the other in our mirrors from time to time. Our pace is also more or less the same. We would have kept going on and on without a break if it wasn't for the sudden downpour that started at Karnal. The nearest shelter was offered by Mayur Dhaba. What a coincidence!

We had been planning to break another record of continuous ride without a break but the rain stopped us. When the turn of forming the cash pool came, Asok immediately handed his share to me. I was stuck. We wondered if this was the real reason Ankit had skipped the ride because on rotational basis, it was his turn to become treasurer. Now that we had stopped to wear our rain-suits, it was decided to have breakfast as well which was done and dusted in another half hour and we were on our way again. This would turn into a Wham Bam sort of Ride. The rain had stopped as soon as we left the dhaba.

We turned off NH-1 after crossing into Punjab and then the green countryside greeted us. As we neared Ropar, the clouds poured down again. It was quite heavy, enough to create puddles on the left lane of the highway and we splashed through them. The joys of childhood were revisited when we used to jump on water puddles. Such a pity that our protected lives do not allow us to do so anymore. Our second break was at a point more than 300 kms from our starting point. We would make our destination in good time this way. 

The rain demanded tea and snacks. Snacks were in the form of Sam, or fancied samosas. It was only now that we started clicking pics. However, it was for a very short while as all gear was packed in again. It was time to ascend the hills. My last venture on this road had been way back in 2010 on the way to Leh. I could recall all the places where we stopped or some incidence happened. Nostalgia was easily flowing. The road conditions were much improved now. Also noticeable was that our riding skills had improved. 

Bilaspur was less of a chaos now from what I remember earlier. The road is very wide and most of it is well paved. By now, we had taken off our rain-suits and were drying ourselves in the mountain air. We paused for another break only after crossing the ACC cement factory. Mandi was less than 50 kms away. A common phenomenon in the hills is that one never gets light beer. Mountain men are known for their rich appetite. Lots of other groups were headed in our direction too, probably onwards to Manali and Leh. With the recent attacks on tourists there, I think we should give them less tourism now. 

The beer removed signs of tiredness in us and we were rejuvenated for the ride ahead. Crossing Sundernagar and some bad roads, we reached Mandi quickly and asked the directions from a traffic cop. In fact, this sense of hospitality is all too visible in every citizen of HP as the cop himself came towards us sensing that we would need some help. 

Until now, I was sceptic whether we would be able to make it to Prashar before the end of day. But our good run had paid off. We had ample time in our hands and so made our way past IIT, Mandi and onwards till we reached Bagi village. A nullah blocked our path. An old Maruti 800 coming from the other way got stuck in the water. People gathered and physically lifted its tyre to another rock and helped it cross. We saw a couple of bikers crossing over in the other direction and so we also made our way through behind them. This spot would be the highlight of the Ride.

The 22 kms onwards to Prashar were rough. But we took it in stride as we had seen much rougher stretches. Some of these stretches are NOT in Ladakh. We also cleared a fallen tree stump from our path ahead with the help of the other bikers. It took a good amount of time to cover the distance and the end was fantastic. 

HPPWD and Forest Rest House were built in a fantasy land. Clouds surrounded us and gave way in between to offer grand views. We tried to talk our way in to the Forest Rest House first. The caretaker wasn't in sight. A shepherd came down the mountain slope to meet us. He gave us the number of the caretaker saying that he was only a short distance away. Phone signals were disruptive as we tried to reach him. We decided to head up to the lake for a view and meet the caretaker on the way back.

The lake site was fabulous. A pristine water body nestled in between lush, green mountains. The flow of clouds added to the beauty of the place. These are the views for which we travel miles eating dust and pollution, battling traffic and facing adverse weather. We soaked in the tranquillity of the place for a while. Unfortunately, the tea shop was closed otherwise a hot cup of tea would have been perfect.

When we reached back to the Forest Rest House, the caretaker still wasn't there, but we managed to contact him on phone and he arrived soon. By this time a group of 5 trekkers also arrived. They had already booked two rooms at the place. The third room was available for us. It was now that we realized that we had skipped lunch. But we had the foresight to grab a half of whiskey on the way. Since there were no snacks, we had only two pegs each. Dinner was plain rice and dal, hot and nutritious. The main topic of the night was our beloved, Rajaji Zaheer.

Owing to our excellent timing, we planned on visiting Rewalsar the next day and possibly cover Bhakra Nangal dam, a jinx. Many times we had planned a visit there but just could not. Destiny had other plans though.

Route taken: Gurgaon - Ambala - Banur - Ropar - Kiratpur Sahib - Mandi - Prashar
514 kms

8th Aug 2015: 

We woke up to the sound of heavy rainfall. It had been raining all night and gave no sign of letting up. All the plans had been literally washed away. The full extent came to be known later in the day. We dressed up in our rainsuits and made way for the lake again. The view in that rain was even more magnificent. We paid homage to the nearby temple. The tea shop was again closed. I was dying for a cup of hot tea.

This was resolved when we returned to the Rest House. The caretaker was making tea and aloo parathas. The guide of the trekker group then told us that the nullah we had crossed on our way up at Bagi village had grown ferocious. Great big boulders had come sliding down. There was no crossing. It had to stop raining first. Then given it doesn't rain all day, the PWD workers could show up the next day and start clearing the route. At that time we did not take his words that seriously and just enjoyed our tea and breakfast. But as it started nearing noon and the rain still pouring, our concern grew. 

We met up with the trekkers who were on their way to the lake. They were also debating whether to descend or stay. They also told us about leeches stuck on their feet during ascending. It all made us prefer our mode of transport even more. We also enquired about smaller treks that we could undertake. The veteran in the group suggested only treks that were days long, not a day long. We gave up.

We decided to check out the rock slide scene ourselves. On our way up, we had noticed a couple of places to stay on the other side of the stream. So there was also the option of keeping the Bullets parked on this side, walk over to the other and stay there for the night. This would at least shorten the 22 kms of tough terrain from Bagi and save us more than an hour.

We paid our dues at the Forest Rest House, the caretaker offering the least bit of advice. The descent was tricky with water gushing down the off-road path. It was the sort of off-roading we enjoy. Asok even made some videos tackling the path. We made it to Sarhu, 4 kms from Bagi when oncoming people stopped and told us there was no going forward. They explained the situation clearly making us immediately stop at the nearby breakfast shop. The shop owner, I'll refer to him as Thakurson, gave us a stern warning as well against proceeding. He suggested us to head back to Prashar. This option was out of the question for us now. Even if we did head back, there was no surety that there wouldn't be any rains today so that we would be able to cross the next day. It would be much more convenient for us to find a place nearby Bagi to stay, to which Thakurson responded that he could put us up for the night in case of emergency. More information was gathered that the nearest guest house on the other side of the stream was 4 kms away. Taking all things into consideration, we decided to put up at Sarhu only.

We had ample time in our hands now. Then Thakur Ji arrived. He was the actual owner of the shop, being run by his son. Like all traditional hill people, he was very polite. He supported our decision to stay here for the night and assured us that all things would be taken care of. In the meantime, he suggested us to go and have a look at the disaster for ourselves. With nothing else to do, we carried on towards the site of destruction.

It was a devastating site. Great big boulders and uprooted trees had run down the stream. Although, the water was flowing in a very narrow channel, but it was flowing with force. Even if we could somehow get our Bullets over the boulders, crossing the water channel could be fatal. Some of the roadside shops had also broken down with the stones hurling down the stream. Only the wine shop stood, bold and beautiful. The fact that the wine shop was across the channel from us added to our misery.

Asok was all too eager to go into the middle of stream and get some clicks, but me being the pessimist cautioned him against it. It may be the age factor that I have become slightly less adventurous. One of the locals however went ahead and crossed the stream. Their courage is admirable. Some other locals also came out and asked about our intentions. One of them volunteered that if it didn't rain during the day, he would help us get our Bullets across the next day by physically lifting them. The rockslide was a frequent phenomena there now since the last two years. Being monsoon season, there was no saying how long we would be stuck here. I didn't want to leave my Bullet and come back later to rescue it. But at that moment, the situation seemed to be heading that way.

We hung around for a while and then returned to Sarhu. Dusk was about to fall and Thakur Ji suggested us to go for a walk ahead and catch the sights in the setting sun. This was another useful bit of advice as we followed the path uphill for a distance and caught majestic views of the surrounding hills and valleys. Our respect for Thakur Ji grew even more.

With nothing else to do, we returned and opened up our leftover stock of whiskey. Thakur Ji and his friends were at it too. We were interrupted in the middle of our pegs by the arrival of the trekker group. They had also decided to descend, but now their van was stuck. The van driver had met us earlier up at the Forest Rest house. So they hadn't planned the return by trek. Now all of us were stuck at Thakur Ji's place. With the driver being a local and one of the trekkers being female, the group had a tremendous advantage over us. The room that we were supposed to stay in was given to them instead. We were shifted into another room with benches doubling up as beds. Beggars can't be choosers. 

We didn't even dare asking what was for dinner. What was cooked for everyone was served to us. Thakurson also explained that had he cooked something else for us, the others would have been after him. As we were finishing our fresh rajma-roti dinner, another native came to meet us. He was the 'Pradhaan' and totally drunk. But the politeness was still there. We would remember his first words:
"Atithi Devo Bhava". He then went on with his mountaineering stories which were quite interesting. He came to us many times during our dinner and every time had a new story to share. Having eaten our fill, we retired for the night. We also politely refused his offer for a drink. We would have readily agreed if we hadn't eaten.

The trekker group however hung around with them. It was a matter of time before the natives started singing their folk songs. It was a joy to listen to. However, I was dreading the songs that the trekkers were singing and then the inevitable happened. Antakshari. Why o Why? The folk songs were enjoyable but as soon as one starts Antakshari, the quality of songs deteriorates rapidly. We had to endure the sounds for a good amount of two hours till they finished. Mobile batteries had to be conserved so even earphones could not be used. We didn't get any sleep but we didn't dare venture outside also as we would be the ones caught to sing next and that is simply not our thing. In the midst of all the noise, we could again hear, "Atithi Devo Bhava". We were also getting concerned that if the weather the next day forces us to stay here for one more night, it would be torturous.

9th Aug 2015:

It hadn't rained the night earlier. It was drizzling now. We decided to head out and check out the scene quickly. The trekkers were also planning to get to Mandi on foot. We paid our dues with thanks to Thakurson after having a quick breakfast. On our way to Bagi village, we saw the guy from yesterday who had suggested to take the Bullets across. He grabbed another reluctant native along and the four of us reached the rock slide area. The water level was much lower now. But there was no certainty that it would remain so. Rocks could still be flowing down the stream. PWD workers were nowhere to be seen. We gathered up our courage and all of our strength and decided to move ahead.

Rocks were lined up as one of the Bullets made its way slowly ahead as we heaved, pushed and lifted them over the boulders. It was like moving the Bullet up a stairway. The distance to the water channel must have hardly been 20 meters, but it left us exhausted. We paused briefly to catch our breath. Now came the toughest part. The water level was thigh-high. It had a strong current. The Bullet was lowered carefully into the water. The current started pulling the motorcycle downstream. It took the strength of all four of us as we inched slowly forwards. Finally, we were through. It was difficult to say whether we were soaked more by rain or sweat.

We paused again to catch our breath then made our way back to fetch the other Bullet. This one felt even heavier now. Maybe the earlier effort had drained us. By the time we took the second Bullet till the water channel, we were gasping for breath. Mustering up all our remaining strength, we inched forwards again. Step by step we made it to the finish.

We were joyous. We thanked our rescuers and paid them as well. It was time for a photo shoot now. Had we done the photo shoot before the crossing, our expressions would've been much different. Now there were of achievement. If we hadn't found these courageous people to help out, we would've been stuck here for a very long time or returning to retrieve our Bullets after the rains. We owe our trip to them.

Now the task came of starting the Bullets with their silencers filled with water. I tried for a few minutes but it didn't start. Luckily, the road ahead was downhill. As we attempted jump start, the engine sputtered and after a while came to life and started letting out all the water. It was noon now and we had a long way to go, 500 kms. However, the 10 kms to Mandi also were not smooth. As we neared the IIT at Kamand, a landslide blocked our path. PWD workers were already at work here, but it would take time. We debated on taking an alternate route to Kullu, but news reports of a cloudburst and a 100kms diversion stopped us. We decided to wait it out.

It took nearly two hours to clear the road. By the time we reached Mandi, it was after 2 pm. We stopped to have lunch at a Hotel. For two days, we had been eating veg meals. It is a sin to do so on BoP Rides. Finally, we had some roasted chicken. For refreshments, a beer was also ordered. After having a full meal but careful not to stuff ourselves we carried on our way.

There were 479  kms to go to Delhi. Time was 3 pm. Our first target was to get out of the hills quickly before dark. That meant a coverage of 100+ kms. This target was achieved without much difficulty and well within time. Now we touched the highway between Kiratpur Sahib and Kharar and could cover distance faster. I had expected Asok to stop on reaching this highway. Usually we do halt after covering 100 kms in the plains only. The last stretch had been 100 kms on the hills. But he was unstoppable and kept on riding.

Finally, when the highway gave way to single road near Kurali, I overtook him and pulled over. We had now covered a total distance of 200+ kms and 5+ hours without stopping. This was his target and a new record was set for our Rides. The last one was 170 kms. Our Bullets always extend their reach with every Ride. It was not as if they were overheating too. They could've carried on for more. I wouldn't dare try this with any other bike. The admiration for Royal Enfields keep on increasing.

Without spending much time, we carried on our way. We still had 260 kms more to cover and the time was already past 8 pm. We had to make another long haul stretch now. Unfortunately, Asok made a wrong turn up ahead and I didn't see him making that turn. But we caught up soon after reaching Ambala. Now we rode in formation throughout. The next halt was at Neelkanth at Karnal after paying visits to Haveli, Oasis and Karna Lake and finding their main restaurants closed. The time was 11 pm. We weren't in the mood for a wholesome meal so just gobbled up some chinese dosa and idlis. We made it to our homes at around 2:30 am.

It had been a long, hard riding day. In the morning, we were not even sure we would be able to reach home today. The possibility of a stuck-up was looming large. But with the help of those courageous natives we had made it. The last 480 kms were covered in 11 hours. This has surely pepped us up for the future rides. They would be full of long hauls and minimum halts. Still, we would never think of not riding to the hills in the rains. Yes, the risks are always there. But I find the daily city commuting riskier than the long rides. Moreover, the lush greenery one finds in the hills during the rains cannot be missed. The extra adventures only added in making this Ride even more special.  There are fantastic people to meet out there. Just Head Out.

JAI BoP !!!