Friday September 5, 2008

8:00pm

Forget this being my most memorable birthday of my life, this was perhaps the most memorable DAY of my life. What an amazing day! What an amazing birthday!

We left Losar early the morning, and headed towards the Kunzum Pass. We were lucky enough to have some samba/tsampa and black tea for breakfast. The roads outside Losar were pretty crappy, but not the worst we had seen. After 18km of some nasty uphill roads, we reached Kunzum Pass at 4550 meters (about 13650 feet). After we went down in elevation maybe a thousand feet or so, the roads turned into the most aweful roads I've ever seen, let alone driven on. It was some of the most challenging stuff I've ever done. To call them dirt roads would be to call a city like Los Angeles, New York or Shanghai a small town. These roads were all rocks and boulders! The fist sized rocks shifted and moved as you went over them, and our bikes were slipping all over the place. How we didn't fall absolutely amazing. We are truly blessed and lucky.

From Batal to Chhota Dhara, we started a trend that would continue most of the rest of the day: crossing streams, ponds, and rivers. By the middle of the day, we must have crossed well over forty! After an hour or two, the roads got a little better, and the area opened up into one of the most beautiful scenes I've ever witnessed in my life. It was like a larger Yosemite, but totally empty! Hours of amazing, but challenging driving followed. There were magnificent waterfalls around every single turn! If I had stopped to photograph even a third of them, this leg of the drive would have taken two to three days!

At one point, I was hauling ass and hit a pretty large rock. My bike skidded out but I recovered without falling. I heard a loud bang though, and Tavi was honking at me from behind. My kick stand had broken. I pulled over, and was able to reattach the spring to the actual stand. Problem solved… for now at least.

Eventually, as we began to climb in altitude again, facing our second high pass of the day (this one only at about 3800 meters), Rohtang Pass, the weather started to get much colder. A few kilometers from the top, the roads were really turning to shit. Tavi hit a large pot hole (well, really, the road was just one continuous string of potholes), and it cracked one of the forks of his front wheel. His reserve gas bottle flew out of his rack (For the second time today) and it took him a little while to notice that he was now leaking tons of break fluid from his front break. We don't really ever use our front breaks anyway, but the crack was a pretty huge concern. It meant that, literally, his front wheel could come off at any minute. We still had over 50km of intense driving to do though, and at speeds of less than 20km most of the time, we still had a long journey ahead.

We stopped for some lunch about 3km from the top of the pass at a tiny little shack on the side of the road. We could see the clouds pouring over the mountain from the other side of the pass. It started to rain a bit, so we decided to get on our bikes and head over the pass. Shortly after hitting the road, we realized that the rain was actually snow… We were entering inside the clouds now, and getting snowed on as we climbed towards the pass. The pass itself was INSANE! Horses everywhere, people, yaks with saddles on them, it was like we were in some strange fantasy land. Most people had scarves covering their whole face and long thick trench coat like jackets on. The clouds were so thick you couldn't see more than ten or fifteen feet in front of you… but it was a mad house. It was like something out of a crazy movie. As we drove further down a bit, Tavi slowed up and yelled, "I feel like we're going into the spirit realm, or something!"

"Brother, we ARE in the spirit realm!" I replied.

Then, briefly, the fog/clouds parted enough to see maybe a dozen meters or so in front of you… and what did we see? Mud. Lots of it, and traffic. Narrow roads with big trucks mean lots of interesting mountain traffic jams. We were witnessing the first of many that day. Driving slowly through some deep, very wet and dodgy mud, we came to the spot where the main part of the jam was. It slowly started to move though, as the few big trucks causing most of the trouble were able to squeeze by each other.

The mud didn't let up, however, and as we started the approx. 45km downward decent we were in for an endless mud bath. Oh, and I don't want to forget about all the herds of sheep and mountain goat! They were everywhere, and often quite a big cause of traffic jams. Hundreds would fill the small road as they too descended the mountain (with their herders attempting to keep their numbers together and keep them from getting hit and run over by motorized vehicles. Just a few kilometers after that initial traffic jam we could see some cars stopped ahead. As we got closer, we could see a large bulldozer, and cars lined up on the other side… there had been a mud slide.

The light drizzle we had been driving through since the top of the pass was now turning into a hard rain. As we were waiting for the bulldozer to clear the road anyway, I quickly hopped off my bike, trying to cover my bags with my bike's rain cover. We had yet to encounter any serious prolonged rain on our journey, so I figured this would pass… I mean… we were driving through a cloud after all… It had to stop soon, right? We would make it out of the cloud before I knew it, right? I was wearing a few layers, but my outermost layer was just my leather jacket. Hardly waterproof. But again, I figured it wouldn't last too long.

After about ten minutes, the bull dozer had cleared a path through the rubble. It was pure mud… but at least it could fit cars through it. The cars on the opposite side powered through first. A large truck got stuck for a moment, as its rear tires spun wildly in the mud. After backing up a little further and gaining some speed, it was able to power through. Then it was our turn. I immediately noticed after crossing the mudslide section that my kickstand wasn't coming up properly again. I figured the spring had just come off again, like earlier in the day, so I quickly pulled off the side of the road to fix it. Tavi was right behind me, and I just told him to keep going, that it was the kickstand again, and that I'd fix it. He quickly disappeared from sight as the fog/cloud got quite thick again.

"Oh shit," I said out loud. The spring hadn't disconnected from the kickstand like before… the spring was GONE. I tried yelling at the top of my lungs, "Tavi!!!" hoping he would hear me and stop. He had all the tools. I needed to take off the kick stand, otherwise it would be too dangerous to drive, especially in conditions like this. I could hear his bike in the distance on the switchback below me. "TAVI!" I yelled again, "My kickstand is broken. The spring is gone! I need the tools!" He had pulled off to the side of the road, and instead of attempting to drive back up, he started climbing the hill. Luckily for him, he was wearing his rain poncho, so he wasn't getting as drenched as I was.

Suddenly, I noticed some solid white stuff hitting the black seat of my bike. "What the fuck? Is that hail?" I said. Tavi was near the top of the hill, close to my bike now. "Tavi, is it actually hailing right now??" Was this really happening? The hail got stronger, and I was starting to get a little pummeled. Tavi took the tools out of his bag, chucked them too me, then went back down to get on his bike. The hail was getting worse, his bike was already a mess, so he continued down the mountain and quickly disappeared from sight. One look at the actual kickstand though, and I realized that to take the kickstand off required unscrewing all sorts of things. The hail was getting worse. Now way I could do this right now. I could barely see from the fog, it was freezing, and I was getting hailed on!

"Ok… Ashton. Think." How the hell was I going to fix this? I didn't have any tape, which I could have just taped the damn kick stand up until I got to Manali or somewhere out of this hail. "My prayer flags!" I thought to myself. I had tied some small prayer flags to the back of my bike a few days ago. I quickly grabbed the knife out of my bag, which, like me was starting to get really soaked, and cut half of the prayer flag tied to the back of my bike. I looped it around the kick stand a few times and tied it to a railing on the bike. It seemed sturdy enough to hold until I got to town, still a good 40km away.

By this time, I had my goggles off because they were totally fogged. I tried to put them on, but was practically blinded. The temperature and the moisture was just fogging them up to no end… "This is just great," I thought. Nothing to protect my eyes, I continued down the mountain, hail pelting my eyes! I could barely open them, otherwise hail would pelt them even harder, so seeing through the mist was even more challenging. For some reason though… it got eerily quiet. There were no cars anywhere. What the hell had happened? I rounded a switchback… and there was nothing. No cars coming up. No cars coming down. Just hail… and… a cow? A random cow in the middle of the muddy road, sitting in the hail storm. No time to wonder how the hell it got there… I continued down the terribly muddy road.

There was another strange moment though, where, off in the distance, the clouds parted, and I could actually see way down the mountain. Far below… green trees… and sunlight. It was quite far off, and no where near driving distance… but it was sunlight. I gave me a little hope… A hope that didn't last long, as the hail turned to heavy downpour. I was getting absolutely drenched.

After a few kilometers, there was a small are of huts set up, selling food, obviously just a stopping point for people to get food on their way up and down the pass. I thought I saw Tavi's bike, so I briefly pulled over. It wasn't Tavi's bike after all… I continued on, and couldn't see his bike. As I started to leave the cluster of little food shacks, I could see off in the distance below me a bike and rider that looked like Tavi, so I continued on. And down I went, through the mud, through more cows, through a LOT more mountain goats.

The rain was starting to get through my layers now. I had taken my gloves off when I was trying to fix my kick stand, but they were soaked anyway, so I don't know that it would have mattered much. My hands were starting to go numb. My feet were totally soaked from the countless mud and water puddles I had already driven through, and they were starting to go numb too. I had to just keep going though… The speeds were snail like, the roads too intense and the visibility too bad to get any type of speed faster than a crawl in first gear.

My hands were getting number, and the numbness was starting to crawl up the arms now. It was getting harder to hold the clutch in when I had to slow down to an almost stop or for reasons like… stopping completely to avoid hitting a few dozen mountain goats, or allowing a massive truck to pass the narrow road… I could barely hold the clutch strongly enough to avoid stalling. I was starting to shiver badly, and that was making the driving even more difficult.

Occasionally, there'd be a little shack off to the side of the road selling chai. I thought to stop more than once, but I really thought that if I stopped the cold would settle in even more and get worse. I had absolutely nothing dry to put on, so the dampness would continue to chill me. The air was freezing. I was freezing. My teeth were chattering. I was chanting 'Aum Mani Padme Hum' constantly.

"Fuck," I thought, "this is one hell of a birthday."

My thumbs were almost completely numb now, so much so that I could barely use my horn (an absolute necessity in India to begin with, but even more so in low visibility on mountain roads with blind corners). Every time I'd try to honk my horn (but pushing my left thumb on the button), I'd miss the horn because I had so little feeling in my hands. Eventually, pushing around, I'd hit it… but split seconds make a big difference on the road.

My chest was still dry though. I had a good five layers on, and two vests. Even though my limbs were getting cold to an almost scary level, I knew that if my chest was still warm that I'd be ok. It's when that starts to get cold that serious problems can arise.

It had been almost an hour now, and I still hadn't seen Tavi. Was he ok? His bike wasn't in the best of shape when I was saw him… I was worried, but I knew he sometimes has a gun-ho "I'm not stopping till I get there" attitude, and also… at this point, I was still way too concerned about my own safety to really put much thought into anything but the present moment.

Eventually though, the rain started to let up a little. I was finally getting lower in altitude, and out of the clouds. It was still cold though… Strangely enough (or perhaps, not so strange given the circumstances), I loved it when I would get passed by a big truck and its black smoke from its muffler would belch all over me. What under normal circumstances would be considered disgusting, was now totally welcomed. This smoke was WARM. It was the only bit of warmth I was getting at the moment, and it was really, really welcomed.

The further down I went, and further along I was… the more I was starting to worry about Tavi. The rain, while not stopped, was getting less and less heavy. Every time I passed a little chai stand, I'd look for Tavi's bike. I thought for sure, now that it was letting up, he'd stop, but then again… his gun-ho attitude would creep into my mind, and I hoped he had just continued on. Still though… the crack in his front fork literally meant that his front wheel could break off at any moment. With the terribly road conditions, that fork was under massive stress… had he gone off the side of the road? Was he ok? I kept battling this in my mind as I continued down the nasty roads.

The roads were ridiculous. The mud was infinitely worse than past Wongtoo damn back on the second day of our journey. It was pretty much continuous for miles. With my bike totally loaded, driving was a serious challenge. I truly did feel so much more confident in my driving than that second day though, so I was more worried about the cold and rain than I was the mud.

Slowly, slowly, things calmed. The rain was now a drizzle again, and the roads were getting a little better, less muddy anyway. My arms were warming up slightly, but I was still totally drenched. My legs wet, my bag around my shoulder drenched… I could only hope my bigger bags weren't drenched too. As the visibility got better, and the roads a little less demanding, I was actually able to look up from time to time to notice the beautiful green scenery. Even lower, I was beginning to notice the absolute majesty of the area. If it wasn't raining… if I hadn't just endured hell… this might be REALLY enjoyable and beautiful.

In my heart of hearts, I felt Tavi was ok, but I was still worried. But it started to creep into my mind… how the hell am I going to find him, even if he is ok? If he was just powering it to a mechanic or something, what was I going to do? I had to get out of these wet cloths to avoid getting sick… but we were headed to our first actual big city in over a week. Normally being separated a bit is no big deal. In towns with populations of 100 and only one main street, finding someone isn't a difficult thing. But if Manali was a big city… how was I going to find him?

I started to see signs for Manali. 10km. 8km. 6km. I noticed a mechanic on the side of the road and looked for Tavi's bike. No go. 3km. A petrol station… and Octavio! I pulled over.

"Thank God you're alive, brother!" I said.

"Ah man! You too! That was crazy!" he said. I stepped off my bike and gave him a huge wet hug, then totally lowered myself needing to lay on the ground. I suddenly became super dizzy and light headed once I did though.

"Woh," I said. "Don't lay down. I feel high or something." I was so utterly exhausted, my head was spinning. "Woh, just give me a minute here." I took a few breaths. "How fucking intense was that?? How are we even a live??"

"Dude, I got a flat rear tire too. I have no idea how I made it here," proclaimed Tavi. "I was chanting to Babaji the whole way down."

"I was chanting Aum Mani Padme Hum the whole way!"

Eventually, I peeled myself off the ground, and walked into the petrol station to get a drink. They had Appy Fiz, a carbonated apple drink that I hadn't had yet this trip to India but absolutely loved my last time here. A sinful delight. I bought two, handed Tavi one and said, "What a way to spend my 29th birthday. Cheers, brother!"

Tavi's rear tire definitely had a puncture, but he had filled it back up with air, and it was holding enough that we could drive on. At the bottom of the hill where you either head up to Vashist or go on to Manali there was an Enfield mechanic, so we pulled in. Tavi explained his problems, but the guy said he was busy and to come back tomorrow. Or, he said, there was a mechanic friend of his down the road that he recommended. We were both soaked, and exhausted. We figured it was a better idea to just find a place to stay, to unload our stuff and try to get on some dry clothes. We headed up the hill to Vashist, and after looking around a bit, actually found a guest house called Babaji. We figured it a sign and pulled in.

Most of my 'warm' clothes were now totally soaked. I literally had a puddle of water in my shoes, my one and only jacket was totally soaked (and leather doesn't exactly dry quickly); I was a mess. Luckily, the awesome long wool vest I had made in Rishikesh wasn't too soaked, so I put on my only two dry long sleeve shirts and my long vest, kept on my wet pants, but because my shoes were so soaked, all I had for my feet was my sandals. It meant some cold ass feet… but I was just happy not to be soaking wet and freezing anymore. We headed out to find some warm coffee. Coffee and a brownie… Mmm. Shortly after, we headed up to the World Peace Café. A lady at the place where we got coffee said they'd be playing some live music tonight, so we went to check it out. As it turns out, the live music was going to be across the street at another place, but when the lady showed up shortly after us, she said the food was better here at the World Peace Café. The music would be going on for a long time, so not to worry.

They have a big TV at the World Peace Café, and just after we got there, they put on the Big Lobowski. I hadn't seen it in a while… and it was nice to just watch something silly and light after such a long day. I ordered a nice chicken meal, and I was super excited to see kombucha on the menu, so I ordered that too! I noticed that I was super low on cash. There hadn't been a cash machine in our path for days… and apparently, I was going to have to go into Manali to find one because they didn't have one here in Vashist. I was literally down to my last 200 rupees (about five US dollars) after paying for dinner.

Eventually, I made it back to my room. Tavi and I actually had our own rooms for the first time in over a week too. It felt weird, but it was nice having a little bit of my own space for a change. I hadn't had a proper shower in days, but I was too tired to take advantage of the hot shower. It would have to wait for morning. The coffee had me awake enough to send some emails, upload some pictures, etc… but I was pretty physically exhausted. I started to actually get really bad cramps, but I had absolutely no water. When I had poked my head out around 10:30, everything looked closed. I figured it could just wait till morning, but as the cramping got worse, I was really thinking about just drinking the tap. I figured I'd just give it a quick look up the street to see if by any luck any place was still open. And… as luck would have it, the place where they had the live music was just up the street and was still open and lively at 11:45pm… so I walked into, a little blanked, and got some bottled water. I stumbled back to my place, drank half the bottle in one gulp, and eventually passed out in my warm bed….

We are the lovers whose swollen hearts

Perfume the world.

It is our dawn

That brings the majesty of light

And it is our dusk

That brings the glory of the night.

Other's lock their souls deep within,

But we let ours out to play.

You can never lose love

Only throw it away.

When our hearts break

The world begins to weep

But love eternal

Does Cupid's soldier keep.

When the North Winds blow,

South does the lover go.

Always do we remain adrift

Riding the peaks and valleys

Of love's endless wave.

While others bury their nose

In the earth like the boar.

Content to hid away and

Remain safely on shore.

The key to love is not to guard it tight

But to give it to the wind

And allow its flight.

Let it rise high in the sky.

Let it crash and fall,

Colliding heavy into every wall.

Be wild, be mad. Be happy, be sad.

Be broken. Stoke our fires and completely melt.

So when we come to leave our bodies

All of life's emotions we will have felt.

Let the priests name their gods,

And the suits have their money.

Let the dragon have its treasure

And the bee have its honey.

One day their well will come up empty

But our will always be full.

For love has always been

And will always be.

We cannot possess it…

Only drown in its sea.

I drank a potion a gypsy woman gave to me.

It makes me bleed, makes me see.

Lifts the veil, and turns all fantasy real.

I stumble down and roll around,

Hug the earth and kiss the ground.

My ears tingle and hear every sound.

My eyes see you and begin to tear,

But they're tears of joy not of fear.

What once seemed far, I feel so near.

The dog, the tree, the fog, and the sea.

The bird, the flower, the turd, and the tower.

The sister, the brother, the father, and the mother.

When I am up, when I am down.

The empty cup, and the crowded town.

The troubadour's song, the coward's flight.

The evil doer's wrong, and the mystic's rite.

The child's face, the sun's sweet dawn.

The fallen's disgrace, and the gentle swan.

The lover's stare, the heart's cries.

I see you everywhere, and in these eyes.

And even when it ends, this fantasy,

I'll never forget to see

What is in you, is always in me.