450+ km of Himalayan Roads

So I ended up leaving Leh in a packed jeep full of guides for a large group of French tourists. Three people including myself were in the front row, while three were in the back. The guy who had the middle seat in the front row did not have any legroom available, so he and I shared the footbed of my passenger seat for the 16 total hours we were in that jeep, winding through unpaved roads and negotiating rivers and ditches.

I mentioned in an earlier post that passing through Kargil was going to be a problem, and it sure as hell was. We stopped at a gas station just before Kargil to come up with a plan. We decided it would be best if I hopped into a bus that was also stopped at that gas station and heading for Zanskar. "Don't worry about luggage. We follow close behind," my driver told me. I was really hoping I wasn't going to eat those words. So I grabbed my passport, money, and other essentials, and got into this crammed bus. The aisle was nonexistent - it was filled with bags and people laying on top of those bags. I managed to hang out for a while near the doorway, and eventually found space for a seat near the front. We took off from the gas station, and within 5 minutes, we stopped to let people out at the Kargil city center. I didn't have visibility at that point to look at the window and see if my jeep and luggage were still close behind. After 20 min, we left, and to no surprise the jeep was not behind us. I anticipated that they might have driven up ahead and planed on meeting me some distance after Kargil. For about an hour we rolled through the Kargil area, zipping past the taxi/tourist checkpoint, and I had not one sight of my jeep. The ride in the bus wasn't as bad as I expected. Although it was crammed and insanely uncomfortable, it was a true cultural experience - so I enjoyed it.

Meeting the entrance of a beautiful valley leading towards the Zanskar mountains, the bus finally stopped. I was convinced my jeep was going to be parked here, but it wasn't (who am I kidding?). I started asking the bus's passengers who were taking some fresh air and stretching their legs if they knew Tenzig, my driver. I eventually met a man named Targus who had his cell number. Targus called Tenzig, and afterwords reassured me they were on there way. In 15 min I was reunited with my jeep (and my pack), and we headed off.

I was relived to be back in my new seat, now appreciating the added comfort I at once took for granted. Continuing on through this lush, mountainous, colorful valley, I witnessed some of the most beautiful sights of my life. Granted, my head was banging on the roof of the car every 20 seconds, and pictures became impossible, yet I will cherish the memory of the experience forever. After some time, however, our car had enough. We got a flat tire (about time, actually). With 6 capable passengers, the tire was replaced with a spare in all of 10 min. No problem.

An hour later, we popped the spare at the foot of a glacier. This time, we were screwed. The temperatures there were unbearable due to the wind running off of the glacier, and we were stranded. We spent about 2 hours waiting for help while trying to remove the tube from the tire. Eventually, a truck rolled by, and Tensig and one other passenger hopped in. Tenzig instructed the rest of us to ride with the very same bus I rode earlier that day. The bus was headed for Rangdum (half-way between Kargil and Zanskar), and even after a punishing day of driving (about 14 hours), Rangdum was still 3 hours away. The remaining four of us huddled by a large rock to block from the wind for another 30 min, and sure enough, the bus appeared in our view. We joined the passengers with all of our luggage, and soon realized the only room was in the back two rows. I took a deep breath and climbed through the luggage and pile of bodies to the back row, all in the pitch black darkness. I found my seat, which was wedged in between two old Tibetans.

I discovered a new level of discomfort in those three hours. In fact, looking back on it, I can't believe I made it without throwing up. The passengers of this old, rickety metal bus got tossed around like popcorn. I myself sustained several bruises from the ride. I managed to keep a mental state of denial, which was the only way I anticiapted surviving the ordeal. When the bus finnally rolled to a stop, the passengers and I had a good laugh. What the hell where we doing in that bus?

The day wasn't over for me and my fellow travellers from Leh. Arriving in Rangdum, a calm, gray valley packed with tall, jagged peaks, we were still about 2 miles from our campground. So we loaded up, and after 17 hours of driving, trekked in the pitch black darkness to our campgrounds. Along the way we were followed by a large, black, wild horse, who was really upset that we were trekking through it's territory. Thankfully, my flashlight kept it at least 10 feet from us at all times! Once we finally made it to camp, I was spent, but still slightly removed, for I knew the journey wasn't over yet.

The next morning I awoke to find Tenzig and our old jeep, as well as an identical jeep driven by another guide for this large group of French tourists (still in Kargil). I felt relived; we now had two identical jeeps heading for the same location - we were going to be just fine. Boy, did I eat those words. Our second jeep broke down 8 times on the way to Padum. Each time, we had to get out of our car and push this beast up and over mountains passes, getting an ignition while it rolled down the rocky slopes. The jeep finally gave out compeltely 1 km from Padum, and we had to rig a tow for it. When we finally made it, I noted the odometers of the jeeps: 300,000 km each. Jesus Christ!