1. Ooh Leh Leh!

It’s possible and quite alright to die on a trip to Leh. God knows, the landscape presents you with enough opportunities. One misplaced wheel on a loose stone could send you tumbling over an obliging cliff. Spend too long atop a high mountain pass and you can die of AMS. Or if its your time to go, you could be hit by a well-timed stone shooting down the mountains in one of those specially laid out ‘Shooting Stone Zones’. However, all this is not deterrent enough to the scores who flock to this cozy city ensconced deep within the Trans-Himalaya.

A trip to this kind of place is hard to blog about. You are forced to take constant refuge in superlatives to describe the experience and you run out of them long before you are finished. Over 8 days, all my two friends and I could do was collectively gape, gasp, sip tea and take it all in as we crossed the highest, second highest and most difficult motorable passes in the world, rode Bactrian camels on sand dunes at 10000 ft, bit into the juiciest apricots just like travellers on the Silk route did a 1000 years ago and camped on the shores of a salt water lake at 14000 feet. We even encountered some angels diguised as Ladakhis. Now that you kinda get the picture, let me try and tell you a little more.

A flight to Delhi and an overnight bus to Manali later, our real journey begins. Now, any good trip requires that the journey itself be half the destination. The Manali-Leh highway pretty much tops the list of good trips by this requirement. The landscape is pure drama: laughing streams, smiling valleys, chilling passes and cheeky lakes, frowning deserts and an occasional rainbow to light up the spirit. Stay within your vehicle, and you are left breathless by all you see. Step out of the protective cover; you are left in no doubt whatsoever of your littleness and vulnerability. You can’t help but wonder what excuse human beings have to be in this kind of place anyway. Apart from the present-day obvious reason – this is en route to the much-disputed border between India and China – it’s the other usual suspect – money.

No one has to tell you that money goes very far. It always has. For thousands of years now. Through recorded history, commerce and trade have cut across deserts and mountains and valleys, including these mighty ranges. And Leh apparently was an important stopover for the traders of yore. Goods ranging from silk yarn and salt, Banaras brocade and cannabis were transported through the mountains and into the city. As you drive on the Manali-Leh highway, it’s difficult to comprehend how long lines of mules and men ever made it across this treacherous terrain thousands of years ago.

Money takes you quite far in present-day Leh as far as comfortable travel goes. A dramatic jeep ride with a one night stop-over costs 10-15K depending on the type of vehicle. Our TATA Sumo came with the dependable Tashi who steered us through some heart-stopping mountain roads over the course of 32 hours. Patiently stopping at every point for our trip photographer, Tashi was the best we could have asked for. His taciturnity hid a controlled aggression that you definitely need to take on the twists, turns, gravel and rocks that the Manali-Leh highway throws at you.

We slowly get acclimatized to the mountains and to each other as we make our way to the promise of snow and Rohtang La, the first pass one hits on the road to Leh. The winding road plays host to some whacked out weekend traffic. We encounter a triad of young Punjabis driving a Santro with two of the passengers seated on the bonnet of the car. This road is also where you find the last of the ‘normal’ toilets attached to little shacks meant for ‘customers only’. Thankfully, the tourist madness dies away as soon as you cross the Rohtang La, and the drama begins. We were treated to some spectacular action; after a double rainbow over a valley, tall and mighty mountain streams and pretty conifers, we wheel into Keylong. The little town does not appear very friendly by night; however the sight of the beautiful women of Himachal may encourage you to take a short walk around town. Tashi chose some interesting accommodation, the sheer splendor of which was revealed to us the next morning. (I realized eventually that waking up to brilliant views was part of the standard package in this part of the country.) What can you say when you can open up your window to welcome a cloud into your bedroom: I certainly felt as light as an angel for a few precious moments?

The second day took us through La-La land, in order, Baralacha La, Naki La, Lachlung La, Tanglang La. Tanglang La is the highest point one hits on this road. It’s also where mountain sickness hits high and hard. The spine-tingling Ghata loops do not help your cause, but the sheer discomfort that you experience when you step out into the slicing wind at any of these La’s is in a class of its own and worth all the trouble!

If mountain passes are not your thing, the Morre plains are sure to floor you. Its a thrilling white expanse of sand at 15000 feet that stretches out impressively for about 40 kms. The drama element is joyfully contributed by cunning sand-drifts that trap many an unsuspecting vehicle with predictable regularity. The journey is mostly downhill from here, or atleast its at heights that relieve your mountain sickness.

We glide through towns with exotic names like Gya, Upshi, Karu and soon land in Leh. We arrive haggard and zapped, tired out of our wits by mild mountain sickness – well, atleast I was. Our first angel of the trip was in the form of Rimchen, erstwhile member of the Indian national ice hockey team and owner of the exquisite and aptly named Shanti guest house where you really are treated like part of the family. A little research reveals that ice hockey is a popular sport in Ladakh, Kashmir and Shimla and we do in fact have a team that is all set to make its first ever international appearance. For my suspicious Hyderabadi friend Rimchen’s niceness was too much to take. He waited for the catch; I am glad to say he is still waiting. We gratefully accepted the rooms allotted to us. And I am still grateful to our gracious host who lofted my bag up two flights of stairs! My luck only got better – I got the best room in the house with huge French windows and a cute little balcony. The expense: a queenly 500 rupees a night. The view next morning was worth a million bucks and just what I expected – the sun half-heartedly fiddling with the snow-clad mountain tops, more sky-blue skies and ah…cauliflower patches! Ooh, the simple life!

Now I could have wallowed in that room until the second coming of our Lord but my uncooperative travel companions had places to do, things to see and permits to get. After a dash to the DCs office, we had our magic passports to the forbidden areas of Leh, Nubra Valley and Pangong Tso.