Jalori

I was a little disappointed about the fact that there was no snow in this place. Yes, it was too much to expect at this altitude and that season..

Breakfast of thick aloo paranthas. The first on this trek. I had several huge ones :D

On the way to the lake


A house wedged inside a rock

All this time I was out of touch with home; my phone service Hutch having exhausted all my balance mysteriously. I later learnt that roaming wasn't free.

We took a hike to a lake, which was a landmark. We saw large flocks of sheep on the way - and it was a pretty long hike.

Jalori Lake

The lake was calm - water looked mucky. There were some rocky ledges where we made our way to..



There was a temple too, adjoining the lake. Some rituals were going on and I remembered Tintin in Tibet where the Captain was supposed to go around a religious structure only from the left - else it would bring bad luck. Anyhoo, touristy glances later we made our way back.

The trek called for us to spend a day at the summit - but the fellows from Vishakapatnam wanted to go back early so that they could accommodate a trip to some hot springs at Manikaran. This led to considerable discontent from Dimple and Uncle. We decided to leave that day anyway.

A lunch later, we assembled for the usual group photo at the summit.

Our group in front of the temple at Jalori.

And we left for Banjar.




There was nothing much we did at Jalori, I suppose. This whole trip was about making a journey by cycle, tackling altitude, steep roads, exhaustion, drastic climate changes, while carrying your own luggage; but at the same time, having a magnificent cycle and breathtaking scenery to behold. I think it was well worth it.

I think there were some warnings by Dimple to take it easy, for now all we had to do was go downhill. I had been waiting for this for a very long time. Every step we took to come this way would now pay off.
I think we even may have decided to go in a group.. or something..

We flagged off. Immidiately I noticed my rear brakes were not working. Dimple had failed to change the brake pads.
There was not much avenues to get irritated. I was going so fast! Yes, I could slow down with the front brakes somewhat.. but I had never gone so fast on a cycle before. The handlebars were rattling over the poorer stretches. We were eating up miles that we used to cover in hours in just a few minutes! It was thrilling. And it was deadly. This was a valley after all, and there were the occasional cars and buses.

I had very poor gloves on. I could feel my palms burning whenever I reached for the brakes. We passed Sojha in a flash. By then I was on my own, more or less, having overtaken most of the guys.

Manish came by from behind and zoomed past me.

He was quite experienced and I could only look on in awe as he maneuvered deftly around corners, skidding just enough to make a 'power slide' and escape the corner. He would jump over speed breakers and simply be too fast on stretches. I somehow tried to catch up.. in vain of course. As such I didn't have the brakes either; so I tried to keep him in crosshairs at least.

But I had to stop. My palms were burning. The handlebar vibrated quite a bit - and led to a lot of friction between the grip and my palms. Further, I was over-using my front brake because of which my right hand was considerably strained. I stopped on the side to examine the damage - and I saw a bit of skin had peeled off from my palm. I kept staring at it and saw, to my horror blood collecting to form a well demarcated hematoma.

Ugh! The hematoma. Really restricted my downhill speeds :(

Shit. I wasn't too bothered by that red boil on my hand - I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to continue such high speed antics without compromising the bursting of this God forsaken boil. I wrapped my hand with my bandana and put the useless glove over it - it still gave me an uncomfortable feeling whenever I gripped the handlebar. I put a sock over the whole glove and then I felt remarkably cushioned. I did something similat with the other hand and pushed off.

To my surprise, I reached Jibhi in less than an hour, in spite of the stops. I saw some bikes parked over at Auny's dabha and stopped over. After eliciting deep sighs over the ghastly boil I had, we settled down and refilled ourselves. Manish gave me some bandages while Harsimran generously donated his gloves, which were well padded. He was happy to take mine. It was a damn nice gesture, and the new gloves immediately felt better. Harry took off along with Uncle.

Manish and Sumedh had tied their cameras on their chest with an ingenious use of ropes and knots. The cameras were quite secure, and they managed to take some excellent high speed downhill videos.

Manish and I took off together. We were joined by Chetan and Ved when we stopped for a photo op.

Yeppo, that be me

Apparantly Sumedh had his usual bike jinx again and this time he was unable to pedal at all. The final straw, I guess. He could only roll downhill by gravity. We figured he'll take some time, and even ventured to go on a detour to check out some sights while he would catch up - but chucked the idea after a few pedals as there was uphill climbing involved! We went back on our route.

By this time I noticed that my seat again started to tilt.. and this time it was actually at an acute angle whenever I sat on it. I had to get off, and readjust the seat and pedal for about 30 seconds and then again adjust the seat. I didn't sit on it much, and stood on the pedals for the better part of the time. Manish and I went far ahead of Ved and Chetan, and we waited for them at Banjar Bus Stop, a few kilometeres away from our Banjar camp. We were to rendezvous with Dimple here.

Ved came by. Chetan had an accident.

On a turn, he collided against a Jeep. He was all right - just a little shaken up. Dimple appeared - and in his swearing element he took Chetan to a hospital for a checkup.
His bike was ruined, and he did not ride for the rest of the trip.

Manish and I decided to wait for Sumedh who we thought wouldbe behind us - and hour or so later we called some folks at the Banjar camp and they said he was one of the first to reach! Puzzled as to how he could have overtaken us without us noticing - he may have bypassed us while we went on our detour. We tried to make a quick break for the camp.

We weren't so quick for two reasons. Number 1..

I think - photos like this deserve awards

And Number 2 : It was impossible for me to ride by now. There were some flat stretches and I couldn't just keep standing on the pedals, as my seat was so loose it would tilt at the slightest force. We did make it of course.

At Banjar there was a serious discord among some of the members. One group wanted to leave for Manikaran that day itself, and Dimple would have none of it. A compromise was reached : They would leave early next morning. I had a feeling they would shove their bikes on to a Jeep and ride all the way back.

Banjar in the evening

We took a walk around the town, Dimple as the tour guide - it was dark and we chit-chatted outside a kirana shop. Chetan had a soft spot for dogs. He befriended this one, and I suspect he had serious thoughts of how to carry him home.

Myself, with the aforementioned canine

Same old dinner back at the camp. There was custard for dessert and I remember having only that.