Friday 21 August 2015

Day 14 Nurpur to McLeodganj

Day 14 Nurpur to Mcleodganj (Dharamshala)  85 kms

By 6am the noise level had risen to that of the Chandi chowk market but that was Ok because escape was always attractive option.
Best part of the whole ride (was this morning coming up fr Nurpur on a good piece of road (very unusual) up a long climb through the hills to Dharamshala to Mcleodganj (where the Dali Lama, took refuge when he fled from China.
So why is it that this road is smooth and well maintained while the Dalhousie road is like the frontline in France in WW1 ???

Only a few more days before I go down to Delhi and return the bike, so I need to make the most of them.
Cool and cloud cover comes down and envelopes the place. Better chance of finding food that is suitable , not highly spiced stuff that the road side dhabbas dish up (rest of boys found this OK, but I struggled to get stuff that was not to oily and spiced.

The hill towns are wonderfully cool at 2000m, in contrast to Delhi, so it's great being here. I stopped at this church which I saw from the road as I climbed up the wonderful road from Dharamshala to McLeodganj


(classic stone type -1863) - St John in the Wilderness, and it was just a wonderful setting, being surrounded with terraces of daffodils. Walked through the graveyard and it was very emotional reading the inscriptions -  " ..............  22 years, darling beloved wife bride of ................  of the Indian Civil Service. Daughter of ........... (some english village). I I I I      I imagine the parents eventually getting the news months later, that she had died in some remote Indian hilltown.

Even if you survived being shot at, you could get wiped out by an earthquake. This guy only aged 25.


There is very little trace remaining of the Brit presence, here now, and Indians do not want to keep anything that is a memory of the Raj. The Tibetan influence is very strong here and the town exudes a tranquility that is probably a by product of this. It’s hard not to smile though, when you go into a ‘western’ coffee shop and the monks are all in there tapping away on their WIFI I phones or laptops and ordering lattees.
The place I am staying at- Mcleodganj  Homestay is fabulous, being an offbeat place with great rooms and scrupulously clean. Straightaway I ask for another night and will stay here for a couple of days and relax.


There’s just something restful about the whole of MCLG despite the streets being clogged with cars, and the market stalls are full of good craft gear.


This shows the architectural flavor of the place –

And the view looking south down the mountain and out over the Indian plain, way below, in the far distance. (very top of pic) 

Maybe the Dalai Lama’s presence is responsible for the more relaxed feel of the town and the Tibetan monks are there in big numbers.
I see this, where women are bringing baskets of rocks from the hillside behind and wonder if this is a new type of 'static load testing'.  


I spend day 15 here as a rest day and get ready for the ride tomorrow to Chandigarth, down on the hot plains, by tipping in ½ a liter of oil but the bike has only done 200kms since the mechanic filled it at Pathankot and the level still seems to be low. I’ve just got to get back the 800kms to Delhi without the motor seizing  




Thursday 20 August 2015

Day 16 McLeodganj to Chandigarth

Day 16 Mcleodganj  to Chandigarth  (250kms)

Set off about 6.30 am and it’s a great morning with it being nice and cool. I head south down the mountain and the road is good so it’s a great ride. The route is not well signed so I miss a crucial turn and have to double back about 10kms. The names of the villages are not signed either so I really don’t know where I am but just have to try and relax. Further on in the Punjab, village signing is done but not here. After 2 hours I stop at what seems to be a more westernized dhabba, because the basics ones just don’t do toast and tea. Even so I end up with a toasted butter sandwich and honey or jam is not available. Still, it’s food.
The road winds around the hills and climbs occasionally through cuts in the hills and the ride is great. The last couple of days have been the best, visually and road condition wise and I’d like to be visiting more of the hill towns. I cancelled Shimla and Mussoorie because I realized that I just wouldn’t have the time to get to them.
There are still the drivers who run up behind you, honking madly , and there’s one TFI in a Tata shoebox which looks as if it would have all the dynamic stability of two Vespas tied together, who just about takes us both out as he passes and comes head on with a truck. Some how gets past, brake lights flashing at every corner (the sign of a truly great driver) and then I pass him minutes later when he pulls up at a shop. So what was that all about ? – getting there before the shop went into liquidation ? .
I beginning to think that there’s an inverse relationship between the size of these guys cars and how much of Michael Schumacher they think they have in their genes.

The boys on bikes, hot little 150 CBRs and things like this, ride as if they’re practising for the Moto GP and their level of competence seems higher but again they are scary head on.


My overnight stop is Chandigarth ( not a good choice ) and the traffic into it is pretty bad. I should have printed off a large scale google map and finding the hotel in sector 22 (this is how the city is cut up) is beyond me. I ask a Sikh (generally likely to speak English) the way and ask him to tell a tuk tuk driver to lead the way and I will follow. Next thing he climbs into the t t and when we get to the hotel he has paid the driver, refusing the offer of tea. I’m blown away by the kindness of so many people and I have his e  mail address so if he comes to Australia………….
The hotel is a bit of a dump and overpriced but it will have to do. I go out on to the street past all the electronic and phone shops and the latter are packed. Phones are a must fashion accessory and even the some of the bicycle rickshaw guys have them,despite the fact that in India they are a very expensive bit of kit


Day 13 Pathankot to Nurpur.

Day 13  Pathankot to Dalhousie and Nurpur   (143kms)
I’m going up to the hill stations alone, so have a slow breakfast and get the mechanic to do his final oil check. He pours in nearly a litre. This engine is really bad and is drinking oil, so I buy a litre pack for the following day
Now after coming down to the plains and the heat at Pathankot, I have headed for some moderate altitude and am now travelling on my own, the others in the bike group having returned to Delhi. I am going to several of the hill towns that were the refuge of the British  civil service (1840’to 1947) , people esp. the wives and children when the heat down on the plains made life unbearable.
I have this fascination with the hill towns, probably because I read Ruth Jahablava's "Heat and Dust"
years go. David Lean made a film in the 1980's and it is worth seeing.



The lush Indian Hill Country

Road is crap to Dalhousie for a good portion of the way and I had thought things would now improve.
Car drivers constantly charge up behind you, horn going and attempt to pass even on the corners, Having done this, you often find that they’ll then stop a kilometer up the road at a dhabba or have a leak. Just a different mindset, and one that you’ll never understand. If I pass something, then there’s a furious round of horn tooting. What’s this all about – injured national pride ?

When I find the hotel (confirmed resvn) the guy says that there is no room and that they were shut. HULLO – there are 2 lackeys at the front desk (of sorts) so it’s just BS and he's just sold the room to someone else. I will check my card and see if they took the money. No point in arguing, you'll never win in India.
There seems to be little else visible of the British colonial presence, just a very Anglican church near the central square.

It starts to rain and I go to 10 hotels in an effort to get a room but being the tourist season, there’s nothing available. Rain gets heavier and I see that there’s a building labeled as a library so I get in there. It’s filled with locked cases of books, all in English and they’ve been there for a very long time, probably rarely read. “The problems of Leninism” by J S Stalin is one I see.

After an hour I bite the bullet, because there’s no way I can sleep in the bus shelter without a sleeping bag, and decide to head down the mountain to Nurpur where I’m told there are hotels. Now 5.30 and I need to get there before dark.
I get there at 7.30. It seems to be Nurpur although I can find only one hotel called Royal Dreams. – IN YOUR DREAMS !!!!!! but it is getting dark so I just have to take it but look at the room first. Moderately nauseating smell in foyer and sheet on the bed looks as if it had not been changed since last person (and probably wouldn't be changed for next.) Sleep with all my clothes on but the logic of this as a bedbug anti dote is questionable. Can't clean my teeth - the water is too bad and don't use the shower.
This is depressing and for the first time in 3 weeks, I wish I was home.

A pleasant streetscape view from the “In your dreams hotel” 



day 12 Srinagar to Pathankot

Day 12. Srinagar to Pathankot   392 kms

It’s 4 am and there's thunder and rain outside so there's the prospect of wet greasy roads. I’m not good in the rain and don’t really know what an Enfield will do in the wet. Any hard front braking could be hazardous. We are supposed to be on the road by 5 but things seem to stray into I am Adventure time, rather than real time so it’s 5.30 by the time we leave. There is minor road flooding and I’ve lined my boots with gladbags so that my feet will stay warm (if damp). We seem to travel through miles of industrial mess and about 40kms out start to pass a long line of trucks. We pass them in the oncoming lane for several kms and there’s no traffic coming towards us. Strange!!!!! . We are pulled over by Akarsh in the support truck and told that there is a landslide a long way ahead. The bikes may get through but he can’t and goes back toward Srinagar to find another way round to Jammu. Soon we are embroiled in the biggest tangle of trucks and have to squeeze along the left road edge or overtake and duck in when there’s an oncoming truck. 





A typical Indian, owner operated, truck with its Mercedes Benz origins being evident, but having been given a workover by Tata, (the big industrial importers and vehicle suppliers) and finally a graphic “artiste” (probably the owner)
There must be thousands of trucks just parked nose to tail and we manage to keep going , with the police being very tolerant and letting us scoot up the wrong side of the road. 20kms later in the world’s biggest truck traffic jam, we get to the problem and the can see that the whole hillside has slipped down onto the road. Apparently it happened at 5am and there are 3 dozers and 2 front end loaders working to clear the road but there’s just so much spoil, that progress is slow.




The natives just stand there seeming enthralled with every minute of the drama, and on getting some sort of a signal, (don’t know what it is), the pedestrians with their bags run across the uneven ground. We have to wait for 2 hours and are told by the police that the bikes will be allowed through first. Good news but the consequence is that once the cars start up behind, it will be like an elephant stampede down the mountain. Get Indian drivers to sit in their vehicles, immobile for hours, and they get all primed to do even more daring things than usual. I just want to ride at a sane speed but the drivers come up behind, horns blaring and charge past overtaking on blind corners.

Sometimes they get it wrong and it’s messy.



                                                               OOOH my head hurts – 

One of the trucks overcooked it a bit




I liked this one with the environmentally friendly warning triangles being placed at a safe distance from the vehicle (and that towrope !!!!!!!!)





We enter the Jahawal tunnel (2.5kms long)and it’s like going into an unlit cave with water streaming down the roadway and if you think the Sydney M5 tunnel is bad for exhaust, this is a thousand times worse. No apparent ventilation and you can hardly see for the diesel smoke. At 2000m in, everything stops but the engines seem to be still running. Great place to die, in here. 10 minutes later we’re moving and out and the air that I previously thought so bad seems like heaven.
It’s now 3pm and we stop for lunch at a dhabba. Kalayan (IAA 2 IC) says he knows a short cut to bypass Jammu. Hmmm.

I’m usually very suspicious of these sorts of “shortcut” pronouncements but we set off. By 7pm, he’s pulling off the LHS rack because the welds are broken and we waste half an hour with the sun starting to go down. I’ve got no front light (crash damage) so am not looking forward to the final bit of the ride (60kms). Yes, it turns into the trip from hell, and we seem to be lost with Kalayan taking star sights as part of the celestial navigation program. We get to Pathankot at 10.15pm, nearly 17 hours after starting and we are all knackered. A day of rough roads and a few near death experiences haven’t helped. Some of the guys who brought their car to travel in and couldn’t past the trucks, like the bikes, get in at 5am (nearly 24 hours) just as the “ to delhi ‘ riders are getting ready to leave.





Tuesday 18 August 2015

Day 11 Kargil to Srinagar. ( 203 kms)

Up at 6 for breakfast but the ‘restaurant’ is still locked and no sign of life from the camp staff. Akarsh has to wake them up and by 6.30 they had produced some chai and later omelettes. All of this meant that the proposed 7am departure was delayed by an hour. I felt quite lethargic about getting on the bike and was the last rider to leave.

A turbulent river ran alongside the village and the road out to Drass, (60kms) the first stopping point and the road was a good curvy one with a good sealed surface. Large memorial at Drass to honour Indian soldiers killed in the 1962 indo- china war but principally to remember the surprisingly large numbers (and high ranks) who were killed in clearing the mountains of the Pakistani insurgents who entrenched themselves, overlooking the valley, in 1999. This place has become a national shrine and the equivalent of the Australian National War Memorial.


One of the guys who helped with the “fun”, whom I labelled Al Pacino, when the Indian names were proving difficult to remember.
He’s part of a rockband in Delhi, and later on in Dharamshala, I see a poster that seems to have a dose of self promotion so send it to him.


 From Drass, east, the road turned to shite and there was  a punishing 20km stretch of badly broken road that just left you feeling exhausted followed by a really scary “Colombian Death Road “section where the left hand side of the road dropped away into a deep ravine hundreds of feet below. Being scared of heights I just stayed in the middle of the road and prepared to squeeze up against the cliff wall, if a truck or other vehicle came around a corner.  

A bit further on, a fair bit of this


The drop down is a series of switchbacks and the dust was bad, but interspersed with water crossings which we’d been warned about so I’d started the day with glad bags inside my boots
We sight Baltal, where pilgrims go on a journey to Shiva’s shrine at Amarnath. You can see the tents. 
We don't go down to Baltal but continue running west along the valley floor.


The last few kilometers into Sonmarg were sealed but I arrived feeling not very enthusiastic about the rice/dahl style lunch that was being served. Two chocolate bars seemed more appealing.
The remaining 80kms into Srinagar were the domain of lunatic drivers who overtook us, even  though we were behind slower vehicles, waiting for a reasonably safe opportunity to pass. Road surface was very average so the whole section, seemed to turn into a bit of a race as you struggled to keep up with the leader, and not risk being left behind and unable to find the Srinagar hotel.
There was a minibus driver (in one of those very robust looking “FORCE” vehicles) who driving as if he were on crystal meth, sat behind us horn honking non stop, until there was just the slightest possibility that something might not be coming the other way, and who would then pull out, even on a blind corner. If something was coming, then he’d force his way back on to our side of the road, forcing the bikes into the roadside verge. We did enjoy it when he’d get stuck behind something on a bend and the  bus engine would bog down, so we’d whip past. This seemed to trigger something in his brain to just try harder to pass everything no matter where. If I’d been a passenger I’d have been really worried about getting killed in a headon. When we got to Srinagar, we all remembered him and it seemed quite funny by then.
Woodlands hotel very nice and great to have a shower after 2 days on the road. Although the back up truck with the clean clothes bag was much later getting in.
Dinner arranged to be at a restaurant where the emphasis was on Kashmiri food, a welcome change from the roti, rice/dahl diet of the last week. Despite the lack of alcohol – this state being dry – we kill ourselves laughing.
This is the last time I will be with the guys and I'm going to miss their company.





Monday 17 August 2015

Day 10  Leh to Kargil. ( 230  Kms)

We leave at 7am but already the narrow streets are clogged with fume spewing vehicles so it’s a major herding cats” exercise trying to keep everyone together, including a fuel fill up stop , and on the right road to Kargil. The road is good (if only it were like this most of the time) and so we cover a fair bit of ground before a chai stop at Nurla.

The only high pass is at Fotu La (4120m) 13500’ but is as well that I have the liner insert in my jacket because it starts to get very cool at this altitude. 


and then down


Somewhere beyond here, I go down again on a corner covered with loose gravel. Probably too much front brake but this time I land on the right side which is better. Enfield doesn't fare so well and I take out the front light.  

A lot of people don’t realize that despite the temperature being low, the solar radiation at altitude is very high and you can and up getting a very painful sunburn.  Inside a helmet, it’s necessary to slop the sunscreen on your exposed face and use lipbalm.

There's plenty of this:



We get to the tent camp at Kargil about 3 and the guys who run it are very welcoming, serving a local drink - but as becomes apparent, there are some things that need to be attended to before they can attract people who want a reasonable level of comfort. The beds are a sheet of ply with a thin palliase layer on top and VERY hard and the water supply to the attached ‘bathroom’ is non existent.
For some reason, the ride boys are responsible for one of the evening dishes - a mutton based dish but I notice that there is a bowl containing about a fifty cloves of garlic and a lot of chillies. The 10kg of meat is parked on a log and there’s a combo act with a chopper and various hands reducing the mass to manageably eatable pieces. The ‘food handling techniques’ preparing it are fairly non existent so maybe the spices and the boil over a wood fire got rid of the bugs.
I’m too scared to even try it, the boys having warned me that it might be a really good idea if I kept away from it.  It’s things like this, that impress me, because they resist the opportunity to have a bit of “fun” and “burn“ me,  because there is no curd in the kitchen.  

I get a lot of ragging during the night about Team Australia’s performance (crash- and so all out) in the points table and so I have to convey the idea that the psychological pressure, as the team’s only rep, is enormous. Again I realize how good these guys have been and made efforts to include me.  However a lot of the time when they’re all together there’s a very loud frantic Hindi dialogue with lots of laughter going on. In spite of this, going with a Indian group has been a good choice and when I’ve crashed or needed help, the care has been great.

The Line of Control is only a few hundred metres away and the area has been in the past, over run in the past by Pakistani insurgents, but the heavy presence of the Indian army seems to be keeping the incursions across the line to a minimum. It all seems very safe and quiet now but apparently not, as I read in the paper, when we get to Srinagar.


The Indian army is appearance wise, very impressive, the guys being slim and wearing smart uniforms and looking professional. I know that looks aren’t everything but even on a good day, Aus soldiers can look as if they’ve climbed out of a dumpster. Their bases, many in Kashmir, are absolutely devoid of any of the rubbish that generally litters the Indian landscape.  








Day 9 Nubra Valley back to Leh   130 kms)

Fantastic day with azure sky and not a cloud in it. Very lucky with the weather and the overnight temperature didn’t get anywhere near freezing despite the altitude.


It’s the same hard bone jarring ride that we experienced coming in but somehow the journey seems shorter and we don’t even stop on the top the Khardung La at over 18000’. This is an altitude that I expected to be suffering from “mountain sickness” but not even a trace of a headache. However you notice that you’re breathing OK for a while and then you suddenly start needing to breathe rapidly. The problem is accentuated as you meet an approaching line of trucks spewing out clouds of black diesel soot and you try not to breathe until they’re past.


We have to stop for about 40 minutes because a dozer is trying to re make the road after a rockfall but as he pushes the spoil over the bank I can see the boulders landing on a lower level of the switchback road. We push past the cars and get in behind the dozer as he trundles down to the lower road and clears boulders.



Back in Leh and we have a late lunch at a place I know does alternatives to Indian  - have Penne el Fungi , and can barely eat anything at the “ride provided” evening meal. There’s Kingfisher beer available but it’s not very good so I continue my “alcohol free” phase, something that the doctor suggested might be a good idea given my ‘home habit’ of drinking wine every day.

The mechanic is working until late, so I get him to do the critical oil level check but I really don’t know how much the bike is using-seems to be a lot according to the chit that he presents with a bill for servicing. Only 650 R ($15) for a week and two spark plugs included in this. I’m never really sure what is going on with the bike because the ‘technical’ details pass from this guy to an English speaker who seems to have a slightly vague knowledge of bike mechanicals and adds a level of bs.      
We are told that it's an early start in the morning but is it IAA or real time?

Sunday 16 August 2015

Day 8 Leh to Nubra Valley ( 130 kms)

The trip to Pasong lake took us in a northeasterly direction so we had to come back to Leh to fuel up and head off in a northwesterly direction to go over the Khardung La. This is the big one (18380’) and if I’m going to experience AMS, then it will be today. As it turns out the road is very challenging and the riding effort high up seems to take something of you.
The road is the worst yet, kilometers of those back breaking compacted and frozen hummocks of grey moraine ‘sand’, which are worse than the ‘stony’ patches. There’s a piece of road on the ‘dark’ side of the mountain that the sun hasn’t got to and the road is a slippery icy track that is scary on two wheels.



We get to the top but it seems that this place has become a pilgrimage spot so it’s a matter of waiting your turn for  photographs against the backdrop of the sign. Bit of an effort, occasionally, breathing but no symptoms of altitude sickness so I’m happy.
You get a taste of that 'on top of the world' feeling with the the surrounding Himalayan peaks, although guys summiting Everest go up another 10,000'.The landscape is spectacular.




We head down and finally get to the Nubra valley. There’s a deal of u turning and blind roads before we find the camp, but it’s a great one, the best yet and a surrounded by poplars, a recent planting addition on Indian army land.


Some of the others go off to see bactrian camels but I just want vege out in the warm sun.
I think the Nubra Valley was an orchard area and in mid summer, like now, it's wonderful to be here.

We have a campfire that night after a quite professional dinner and the guys sing Hindi songs so I’m lost. The only one I seem to recognize is “Saturday, Saturday” a catchy piece of Bollywood
You tube track
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OljkSVLIt6c


Saturday 15 August 2015

Day 7 Pasong Lake back to Leh. ( 164kms)
There’s no way I can ride with my left hand having ballooned out and being very difficult to bend my fingers.
Somehow a truck is found and three bikes are loaded on to it. I get in the support vehicle and have six hours of boom boom  bollywood songs,  but we have “Saturday Saturday “ several times and that’s OK.
There’s a constant rotation of people in the support  SUV’s and you only get to stay while you’re sick or injured. Some have paid 15,000R to book a permanent place because either they’re not bike riders or wanted to have a fallback position, if electing not to ride. This means that the IAM team guys (4) have to get on the bikes and ride. Today there seem to be just too many bikes needing to be ridden so a truck is called in. If your bike needs to be transported, this is not a freebie and you have to pay. You might get one freebee ride in the SUV but then it seems that you have to demonstrate that you’re keen to get back on the bike and not just opt for an easy ride. I end up paying 1200 R (Aus ($27) for a support ride but nothing to move the bike. I’m happy with that.
There’s been a blowup at dinner last night because one of the guys wants his wife to ride in the SUV rather than pillion, but since he didn’t initially pay for a seat, IAA say no and so he leaves the group when we get back to Leh. “Blowups” in Hindi are fairly dramatic with a fair bit of screaming and shouting but Akarsh is impressive, not losing his cool but not backing down. This guy is a master at leading a group. I find it interesting that the guy complaining, opts to voice his unhappiness in front of all the guys in the meal tent, where he’s likely to lose face if he can’t get what he wants and Akarsh doesn’t try and close it down so he has something to lose if he has to climb down.
I’m lucky, the mechanic’s offsider takes my bike because they can’t fit it on the hired pickup truck but I know from past experience that he is a fairly savage rider and is hard on the clutch. Still I’m not going to worry about that.

The antibiotics and Lopramide seem to be working finally and I’m feeling better and able to eat. 

Wednesday 12 August 2015

Ladahk ride -Prelude

Ladahk ride - prelude

I’ve written a ride diary for this trip for the ADV rider forum, being aware that many others may have done rides in Ladahk, but maybe something here will help guys with a little bit of info that will make preparations easier because I had a lot of questions before setting out and a few were still unanswered when I got on the plane.
I spent weeks trawling the net looking at the various tour packages being offered, ranging from the ultra up market expeditions with their own dedicated doctor, and pressure bag ( to counter serious mountain sickness ) to those like the one I chose, being minimalist and just running support vehicles and a mechanic. In one of my madder moments I thought of doing the ride on my own because of being able to opt for the more gradual climb from Srinagar to Leh, rather than the very quick ascent from Manali to Sarchu over the Rotang  pass on day 3. However thankfully, I didn’t and realize that I wouldn’t have had the resilience to keep going alone and would have missed the fun of the group ride.

I intended hiring a bike in Delhi and after initially booking with Tony Motors in Karol Bagh, found Cosy Travel which would do an Enfield Classic 500 for 1000 R per day.


I wanted fuel injection and the gear change on the left and racks fitted. Neel did a deal with me whereby I left AUD $1000 with him as the security deposit and got the same returned to me, avoiding ending up with a heap of rupees on the day before leaving Delhi. I saw this Enfield at K B, which interested me more, a new Indian developed model, with an enlarged 535cc engine and good quality “bought in” ancilliary componentry- fuel injection, brakes etc and dreamed of riding one of these – crazy, because you couldn’t go to Ladahk on one.


For those who are interested in where these Enfields originated, here’s a bit of info:
Royal Enfield can trace its history right back to 1851, when George Townsend established a needle making mill in Hunt End, Redditch. After his death, his son George started making safety bicycles, but ran into financial trouble, and R W Smith and Albert Eadie were appointed to take control in 1891.
The works were re christened the Eadie manufacturing Co Ltd, and a substantial contract to supply precision rifle parts to the Royal Small Arms factory in Enfield, Middlesex, put the business back on its feet. In celebration , the new bicycle was called the Enfield.
The prefix “Royal”(in tribute to the Royal Small Arms factory) was licensed by the Crown and one of the most great names in motorcycling history was born, soon adopting its famous trade mark “Built like a Gun”.
In 1901 R E’s first “motor bicycle” with an engine mounted above the front wheel appeared, and by 1912, motorcycles with larger V twin engines from Motosacoche, Vickers Wolseley and JAP were being produced.
During the First World war, R E gained contracts from both the U Ks War Department and the Imperial Russian government. When peace was made, more models followed including a 976 cc twin in 1921 and a 350 single, three years later. In 928 R E pioneered the use of saddle type petrol tanks along with centre spring front girders.
Around half a dozen military models were produced during WW2, mostly side and overhead valve singles, including the 150cc ‘flying flea’, looking a bit like a stripped down BSA Bantam, and designed to be dropped by parachute.
After the war ended, Royal Enfield marketed the 350cc overhead valve Model G and 500cc Model J, which had rigid rear ends, but telescopic front forks. In 1949 the 350cc Bullet, with front and rear springing went on sale, and this model, and the 500cc version that followed were the basis for the continuing manufacture of Indian made Royal Enfields.
The first of R Es parallel twins, a 500cc model, soon followed and from it the popular Meteors, 700cc, Super Meteors, Constellations, and finally the 736cc Interceptor were developed.
The 250cc ‘learner class’ dominated the final British chapter, with the Clipper, Crusader, Crusader Sports, Continental and Continental GT. Enfields also produced every day two strokes such as the Ensign and the Prince.
By the mid 1950’s, there was a substantial demand for sturdy trouble free motorcycles for the Indian Police and Army and an order for 800 350cc bullets was placed. From UK components supplied under licence, assembly was handled by Madras Motors, and the Indian bikes are still made at Chennai. The tooling equipment for the Bullets was sold to Enfield India in the 1957 and long after the Redditch built bikes have become history, they are still being turned out in their thousands, the latest versions having fuel injection, twin spark engines.
I wasn’t very enthusiastic about riding an Enfield, even before the trip started but saw that they had two major pluses – the possibility of being easily fixed at the many bike workshops along the way and their ability to take the rough road punishment that might have cracked the alloy frames and wheels of other bikes. So despite the assurances of Enfield owners here telling me that I’d get to really like them, I didn’t. The Classic I rented, performed poorly and I’m unconvinced that others would be much better. But, more of that later.
With IAA, the main questions were about AMS and the cold and Akarsh was fairly nonchalant about both, so I got some Diamox before leaving and took a heap of padded gear.
Taking an armoured jacket, boots, helmet and the “warm” gear meant that this wasn’t much less than I needed to take for my US ride a couple of years before. I have a gear list if anyone needs one.
I had to pick up the bike from Todapur, not a long way from where the hotel was at Parharganj  but was freaking out when, after arriving in Delhi, I first got in a tuk tuk and saw what happens when there aren’t any road rules. It was seriously scary and I thought we would end up under a bus but these guys know exactly where the four corners of their vehicles are and operate with millimeter clearances.   Delhi is a huge confusing city and a GPS on the bars would be great. You really don’t know what the surrounding vehicles will do and the most daring win at the roundabouts. Apparently you get your licence by post.(and it shows)
I made the mistake of not spending enough time checking the bike over because I had a tuk tuk waiting to guide me back and problems arose later.
I deliberately chose a group which was bar one Malaysian, all Indian Nationals and thinking that as the only pakeha, I would get a more direct “cultural experience”.  I thought that if the group was largely Europeans, then on passing though the small himalayan towns, we’d be ‘isolated“ from the locals.  My own experience bore this out because once outside Delhi, speaking English was not widespread and I relied on the guys in the group to find what I wanted.
So travelling with these guys who largely were bi lingual, was great and I learnt a lot. The downside was the menu.
They could eat stuff at the roadside dhabbas and not have a problem. Many ex patriate Indians I’ve spoken to here in Aus have told me that when they go back visiting, there’s no way they can just eat anything and not get a dose of delhi belly.


Aakarsh, the IAA leader  ( getting ready  to take off on his KTM 390)

I had a few e mail exchanges with Akarsh Pall from I Am Adventure and felt reassured by his answers although there was a tricky moment when I asked him to demonstrate that they weren’t a bunch of crooks. It was all go for a 28 May start until I broke my shoulder in March, and suddenly the plan collapsed. I kept aiming for a 28 June departure and was lucky that despite a bad lateral break, it healed well. The ortho surgeons were a bit skeptical of my being ready for what they considered a big ask for a recent break.

Ride starts tomorrow