Steve O'Rourke: Back On the Motorcycle

Having felt well rested and refreshed from the day off, as well as the lower altitudes, I thought I'd get back on the motorcycle. So in the morning I suited up and headed off down the valley with my compatriots. A full day of riding lay ahead.

There was a cool drizzle falling as we assembled at the lined up motorcycles. I had my rain pants on as well as my rain slicker on inside my riding jacket.

Ready to Go

Solang to Shoga

We would be following the Beas River Valley using primarily Highway 3. Since I was riding the motorcycle, I had no opportunity to take photos.

The first part of the day we were in the rains. The road traffic was relatively open as we got down near the bottom the the river valley. Snaking down the road was a new challenge for me since I've never ridden a motorcycle on curving roads with wet pavement. So I was working up my confidence that the tires would grip while leaning into the curves. But obviously they did. I could see my compatriots ahead of me leaning and cutting into the shifting course. As we continued, the road began to open up into a 4 lane and our speeds increased. Soon we were going nearly 50 miles and hour! The fastest I'd ever gone in India.

I learned that in India we often stayed in the passing lane (inner) since the outer lanes were line with shoulders where traffic was constantly entering and exiting. There were no ramps off the 4 lanes. Just continuous shoulder. As usual, I was still at the back of the pack and often lost sight of the group. But I had Paul with me so I felt confident that we were on route since he would pull ahead of me if we came to a change. Sometimes Paul did pull ahead in order to push us forward and then I would tail him as we wove in between traffic. At some point, while motoring along at around 50 mph around the town of Bakaira, Paul was ahead of me as we approached a large area where a bridge crossed the Breas and there was a decision point for people who wanted to stay on the left side of the river. A sedan started shifting to the left without any sign that the driver saw Paul.

Bridge Crossing Near Bakaira

Paul honked his horn but continued to yield to the left to avoid a collision. I dropped my speed and followed behind Paul about 20 feet, monitoring the overall situation as best as I could. Within seconds Paul was forced to evade and turn off the road totally via a roundabout. On the shoulder, he pulled over and came to a stop. I rolled up beside him and put in my clutch and braked to a stop. "I had to exit!" he yelled to me. "I thought he was going to take me out!" I nodded emphatically. It was instructive to me to see an experienced motorcyclist take evasive action in chaotic Indian Traffic. It is not like a motorcycle can 'stand it's ground' against a sedan. I'm not sure if the sedan driver had his windows closed and a radio or phone going. But he didn't seem to have heard Paul's horn nor saw him. Oblivious.

We re-entered the roundabout and were soon back on course.

Eventually, we came to a road junction. Lynn, with her bright red helmet (seen easily at a distance) was waiting for us to direct out turn off the main highway. Here the Beas and Sainj Rivers converge. After going thru a tunnel under the rivers, we got on Highway 305 which follows the Tirthan River which is a tributary of the Sainj . Now, we were back to climbing on a narrow two lane road, passing through countless smaller villages. Periodically we would encounter congested two-way traffic including some problematic oncoming trucks and buses. Twice we stopped. Once for lunch and later for a rest break. The rain had long ceased and so I was able to strip off my rain gear. Underneath of these, it was quite stifling when the bike was not in motion.

Back on the road, around 3:00, it was obvious that schools were emptying in the villages along the road and the traffic was filling up and as we climbed, we were in a very slow moving traffic jam while climbing this narrow road. When occasionally there was a way to snake between vehicles the group would slowly push ahead. There was a lot of time we were also sitting while using clutch and brakes. A nearly frozen mess.

A Real Shit-Show!

At some point, Paul and I were trapped behind a narrowing of vehicles on this sidehill road. Paul got ahead and tried his best to push us forward. But it was difficult for him. Eventually we came to a disorienting situation where we saw a bus facing down the road at us as well as a dump truck on the left side also facing toward us. What? It turns out the dump truck was trying to repair damaged road and was dropping a load of rocks. Not gravel. But rocks! Paul was ahead of me, trying to snake between bus and truck as the load was coming off the back of the truck and Paul's motorcycle was inundated with cabbage-sized rocks flowing around and under his bike. He got stuck and workers were reaching around and under his bike, pulling the debris out so he could pass. Unbelievable! Paul was eventually able to get purchase with his tires and gunned the motor and move forward beyond the bus and truck. Not wanting to be trapped on the wrong side of this "Shit Show", I gunned my throttle and squeezed through the same pile of loose rocks. I could feel crunching under the bike but I kept working the engine and clutch whilst in 1st gear and soon I was beyond the two big vehicles. Like toothpaste being squeezed between cracks in a rock. As I rolled forward the road workers were calling out and pointing to the bottom of my bike. As I got up to where Paul was waiting, I stopped and Paul also pointed out that My kickstand was hanging limp from the bike. It had been partially pulled and damaged by the rocks! The retaining spring had been stripped away and the kickstand was slightly bent.

While I stayed parked with my right hand on the hand brake, Paul got some tape out of his medical kit and wrapped it around the leg of the kickstand and was able to secure it in place so it didn't drag on the pavement. Gads!

After that, we continued up the hill. There was no following traffic. We were the last to escape the mess below and would not see any following traffic for the next half hour as we continued up through a series switchbacks passing thru heavily forested sidehills. Rising towards to ridgeline.

Finally, we made it to the top of the ridge and there was our hotel, the Sojha Holiday Inn! As we rolled to a stop our companions were all standing by their motorcycles and gave us a round of applause for making it! I think this was especially directed at me. The retarded motorcyclist had made it! I shook my head. I felt like the poor guy who'd just won the "Special Olympics" for completing a day on the bike. Still it was a bit of an accomplishment for me with my lower skill level and so I took the well-meaning congratulations and encouragement with good spirits.

The hotel was one of several hilltop hospitality locations on the ridge. The view looking down and across the forested valley was lovely. I again got my own room with a view. It certainly was a nice compared to the usual tenting venues I often am in when bicycling in North America! There was hot water but no shower. A sponge bath was the only alternative but I took it gladly.