Thrown Into the Deep-End - Part 3

I woke up naturally around 6 am to the sounds of animals and the nearby river. Through my tent, I could sense movement and grazing. After an arduous first day of riding, I slept well and woke up feeling rested. Opening the tent revealed a breathtaking view of the valley where we were camped. Although we heard the river the night before, we couldn’t see it in the darkness. It was literally within a stone’s throw (more like a casual toss) of our tents. The grass on the valley floor was a healthy, bright green surrounded by beautiful rolling hills bathed in soft, flowing clouds. The scene was out of a postcard in every direction. The camp itself had a few small wooden structures built in harmony with nature. All your standard farm animals were there free to roam and graze happily in this paradise.

Of our group, I was the first to wake. I walked over to the river and rinsed my face with the refreshingly cold water. In the outhouse bathroom, there was a poster with a familiar saying. “Fill your life with adventures, not things. Have stories to tell, not stuff to show.” At this moment, everything felt right. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I have always questioned societal norms and traditions, but not for the sake of lashing out or a forced rebelliousness. Just because things have been done a certain way for years and generations, it doesn’t mean we don’t stop and think about how it came to be that way and whether it is the best way forward. The lure of comfort, convenience and comparison to others has led to the modern disease of our “developed world” – consumerism. For the last few years, I have started actively practicing a form of minimalism. After a few iterations of shedding things that I don’t actually need or actively use, I have felt a mental weight being lifted every time.

The others started to stir and slowly emerge from their tents. Soon, we were all served delicious breakfast. Although we all wanted to stay longer in the valley, our hosts reminded us that we still had quite a journey to get to our destination, and that we would stop here again on our return. So we geared up and headed out of the valley. The conditions had improved. Just having the ability to see where we were going, and enjoy the surrounding beauty, was a big morale boost. There were still muddy patches, but less than the night before and avoidable this time around. The first half of the day’s riding was a mix of on and off-road riding in good weather. However, the second half of the day was a different story.

Although the overall distance was less than the first day, the roads were getting windier and the terrain was getting rougher. With everyone having varying degrees of riding experience, we were riding in a recommended order. We all navigated the terrain slightly differently. The rider ahead of me had a passenger as well. I kept catching up in the wrong spots. Of course, instead of getting frustrated, I should have just backed off and given them more room. It was the worst in slushy mud sections because you needed to keep up your momentum, or the front tire would just slide and fold. We came up on a bend where there was also a crest. Coming over the crest, we saw that a truck was approaching from the other side. Each of us chose different lines through. I lost momentum and balance avoiding other riders and trying not to lose the front. Unfortunately, I had chosen an inside line that had a ditch to the left. The bike started to tip to the left and I had no footing. At this point, instinct kicked in and I knew I had to bail. I jumped off and away from the bike over the ditch and landed like a frog on the mud bank. Thankfully, the bike didn’t land on me and fell in the muddy ditch, so there was no damage done to it. The only thing hurt or broken was my pride. Naturally, the incident brought my confidence down a notch for some time.

We carried on and made a stop in a little while. As we were approaching a major mountain pass, our hosts informed us that the weather through the pass was highly unpredictable and rain was possible. The others started putting on rain gear. So far on the ride, we had not been through any significant rain. Between that one historical data point and me being lazy, I chose not to put on rain gear. I mean, I would have had to dig it out from the bottom portion of my bag, which itself was buried under other luggage in the support Gypsy. Well, that turned out to be a stupid mistake. Within minutes, it was raining and as we approached the pass, it was getting colder. Pretty soon, it got to the point where I was thinking about my phone, passport, papers, and money getting wet. Then, my feet and hands started getting wet. And then somehow (in)conveniently, it felt like a small crater had formed between the seat and my pants, so I basically just had my family jewels sitting in a small puddle of cold water. Perfect. I just resorted to the fact that this would just be one of those moments that I had to grit my way through. Still, some part of me was glad this had happened, because it was a good lesson on what not to do in the future.

With connections all through the area, our hosts made a stop at a small house that had a coal stove in the middle of the living room. We all huddled around to thaw out a bit and I tried to dry some of my things. We were served some quick noodles and butter tea. This tea was made with real yak butter! It tasted good and hit the spot. As we sat there trying to unfreeze, we were reminded that it wasn’t even winter yet. One of our hosts told us a story about when he and a buddy decided to ride up here in winter with snow on the ground. They were completely unprepared for the conditions and the lady at this very house had essentially saved their lives by bringing them in to warm up around the stove and drink yak butter tea. We waited a bit for the rain to ease up, but with the light fading, we were once again ushered to get moving. Since I was already wet, I skipped the rain pants, but opted for a rain jacket to help with warmth.

We finally reached our destination, the birthplace of the sixth Dalai Lama. The wonderful hotel staff took our wet clothes to be dried and we were provided with heaters to thaw out once more. Although this story is titled “Thrown Into the Deep End” to illustrate learning through adversity, I want to assure you the hospitality provide by the tour hosts and staff was incredibly warm and they genuinely cared that we were having a good time. I enjoyed every second of it. After experiencing so much in just two days of riding, we all felt such a sense of accomplishment. As amazing as it was exploring the destination over the next few days, the journey there was unforgettable. No doubt everyone there was on their own unique journey, but I’m happy to have made friends halfway around the world who shared the experience. I certainly found my off-the-beaten path motorcycle adventure and can’t wait to do it every year! Join me on the next one.

LETS GO MOTO!