Reaching the remote border areas of Kashmir
Day 11 of climb; Unmapped border area of Kashmir; GPS blinks – I’m at the start of ‘the‘ valley
It’s 5,100m, dark and super cold. I’m into the second week of a tough climb; pulling, pushing and throwing my bike on ice – a lot of ice – a dirty great glacier. I’m looking for something but I’m not really sure what – all I know is there should be a monastery near it.
Many believe the story of Shambhala first appeared in Kashmir in the 10th Century, so that’s where I’m off to now – the border areas of Kashmir that is, not the 10th Century.
It’s been a tiring two weeks: pulling, pushing and throwing (yes throwing!) my bike over the Great Himalayas before reaching the lesser travelled mountains of the Trans Himalayas.
Two weeks ago I was riding (remember that, riding!!) in sand, sand in the Himalayas! It’s a reminder that this region was once the sedimentary floor of the Tethys Sea, before the collision of the Eurasian and Indian plates formed Tibet & Ladakh, around 100 million years ago.
Each night, I camp by the same nameless river in the same unmapped valley in the hope of finding an end to the beginnings of Shambhala. I’m only a couple of days away from my ‘X marks the spot’ on my GPS. Each evening I munch on my diminishing quantity of biscuits and play with the GPS, may be clean the cameras from dust. I’m so tired during the day but in the evening tiredness makes way for excitement at what lies ahead.
Start of the climb
Since ancient times, the Trans Himalayas are thought to harbour clues to one of the worlds greatest ‘mystery of mysteries’. The Greco Roman philosophers and astral scientists of old believed this remote region was infact “The Forbidden Land of the Gods”.
Day 13 of climb; Just another day in the snow fields
I’m in bed by 6.30pm and climb out of my sleeping bag by 3:30am each morning. I pack the tent away and can’t feel my hands after folding the metal tent poles. I struggle putting the gloves on and rub my hand together to get some movement back. I hoist the bike on to my right shoulder by 4am, take a last look around the camp to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. The now familiar daily feeling of taking those first shaky steps climbing on the ice starts, just in time for first light.
The earlier in the morning I can leave, the better. The rivers are frozen solid in the morning before the sun’s rays hit the valley floor, which means I can travel safely on the river as opposed to the cumbersome rocks and boulders either side.
Yesterday I tried to cross a tributory river too late in the day and on the approach the ice began to moan and creek under my weight. I backed off, sat on my camera boxes and wondered how best to cross – the more time I spend thinking, the more the ice is melting. After an hour of umming and ahhing, talking like a baby in to my video camera as if the camera will offer me sound advice, I decide to lighten the load by throwing my gear across, then the bike and then take a running jump!
Just another morning in the snow fields
Day 14 of the climb – a day away from the top of the pass
I’m almost at the top of the pass, camping tonight at 4900m. Tomorrow I hope to cross from the Great Himalayan Range, to the Trans Himalayas – one of the highest inhabited regions on the planet. I simply follow the frozen river north until it runs out.
The glare from the snow is burning my eyes and peeling my skin. I have a small white blister developing under my left eye. Carrying the bike for this length of time is getting really hard on my shoulder – the cable housing is digging in to my skin and is quite painful. Covering only 6km per day is demoralising and I soon realise I’ve under estimated my food rations.
I look at my five packets of biscuits & try to work out if I can get to the next settlement before my food runs out. I heard the next settlement is four days away but a nomad I passed two days back said it’s deserted this time of year. Feeling pretty low right now but hoping the gods are looking down on me, after all, this is The Abode of The Gods.
