Thimphu - Madarihat

13 April 2011

Today was a historic day. This was Gyan's day, whole and soul. We all owe lots of hearty laughs to him. They say laughing is healthy. If thats the case, then we were the fittest people on earth on this day. As were few others.

Nilu and Doley woke up early to book bus tickets to Phuentsholing. Nilu reasoned, and we all agreed, that Versas weree uncomfortable on hilly roads. A bus would be more comfortable. It actually turned out to be, even more so as it was a Toyota Coaster. Our bus was to depart at 11 AM. But we all faked the departure time to be 9 AM so that we could get ready on time. Gyan and Dutta were not too pleased when they found it out. As we went to the restaurant for breakfast, the guys ordered, what else, pork. Pork chowmein. I ordered aloo parathas. When the guys asked the manager to repeat the order, he came out apologingly and said that they had run out of pork. I had always known and somewhat experienced my mates' appetite for pork, but had not realised the extremity of it.

With our backpacks on, we reached the bus stop with half an hour to spare. This was spent buying churpis, solidified yak milk, and just loitering around. Doley utilized this time to take spy shots of "Buums". As we walked around, some of the taxi drivers thought we had just arrived and started to sing Punjabi songs, "Bole Tara Rara" to attract us. Amusing sight. By 10:45 AM, the coaster was full. So the driver just drove off. In Bhutan, they have a policy of no standing passengers.

The driver was having some trouble with one of the front tyres. So, he stopped at a workshop nearby. At the workshop, we saw a girl fixing a puncture on a tube. Women's Liberation at its finest. Lots to be learnt for our pansies here.

The driver was splendid. We could hear the tyres screeching as he was negotiating the curves. We dare not ride our motorcycles at that speed on these roads. For lunch, we stopped at a roadside restaurant. Mutton, Beef and Pork rice were ordered. The meat was awesomely cooked. We were left licking our fingers.

Now, let me tell you about the first record smasher by Gyan. We had a good conversation with another passenger in the bus, Sonam Sir. He was a teacher and had explored India, and even the world, extensively. He gave us plenty of information. He even invited us to visit him at his hometown Bhumthang where he would treat us for free. His statement, "There's no other country like India", takes the trophy. During the journey, he even played Creed's Six Feet, earning more respect. I wanted to copy a couple of Jongkha songs from his phone. He handed over his Samsung phone to me. Gyan owns a Samsung as well. As I was unable to transfer the songs, Gyan took over. He copied some 5-odd songs from Sonam Sir's phone. Then I took Gyan's phone to copy them in mine. As I finished, I put on my handsfree to enjoy the songs. What turned on was a shocker. They were some itsy-bitsy English numbers. I turned to Gyan.

"How many songs did you copy?"

Answer: 6-7.

"Anyone of them in Jongkha?"

Answer: No.

Wails of laughter followed. We owe such landmark moments to Gyan. Even the bus driver was trying to control his laughter. But the biggest moment was still to come.

As we reached Phuentsholing, the weather got quite warm. We crossed the border into our own country. Car horns greeted us. Welcome to India. But we still love it, dont we? We took a taxi to Madarihat. This driver was also a racer. He was driving as if his Omni was a 4X4. He dropped us at the IOC guest house in no time.

The news was not welcome. The guest house had to entertain a few cops on election duty. That left with only one room for five of us. We didnt mind. We all crashed out on the floor. This time, we opened the Courier. In between all the leg-pulling, time was moving towards our most memorable moment.

Gyan has a dirty habit of leaving a portion of his last peg. We had been quite fed up with this for quite some time. He doesnt even give a reason for it. So when we figured out that this was going to be the last peg, we didnt offer any to Gyan. He had finished his earlier peg by now so there was none to be wasted. Usually, we dont like to refuse people drinks, but he had to be taught a lesson. Slowly, his frustration began to climb. Now it had reached the breaking point. As we were about to finish our pegs, he got up in a confident manner. That was the first mistake. Then, he reached into a bag and took out a whiskey bottle. Second mistake. Now he began to mock us, "You think I'm an arse?". Third mistake. He began to shake the bottle in front of us repeating the same line. Fourth mistake. Now Nilu stepped out from the bathroom and saw what was going on. He knew exactly what was going to happen. He just calmly said to me, "Be ready for the shock on Gyan's face". As Gyan started to pour himself a peg, he realized that it was the trophy bottle Nilu had packed from the day before in his bag. Empty. Now, he was red faced, with embarassment. The rest of us were also red faced, with hilarious guffaws. Till date we don't remember how much time passed before we were able to get back to normal. I'm almost breaking down again as I write this.

The only drawback of such landmark moments is that any future moment has to live up to at least half that level so that we can enjoy a good laugh. Also, it can be broken by only the same person. It hasn't happened till now.

Madarihat to Guwahati

14 April 2011
This day wasn't an easy one for us. We were saddened after leaving Bhutan. We were also worried as there was no news of our bikes. Nilu was worried about the transmission warning in his car. It started out as a dull day. But then grew into a wild, adrenaline rush. We took off early so that the border could be crossed in little traffic. But it was not to be. Nilu took some wrong turns and even though we were not much delayed by them, when we reached the border, the truck line had elongated to miles. This time, no diversion could be found. Doley was having a sore neck. But he would not take any medicine, saving the pain to be dulled by rice beer.
By this time, we did some minor abusing to Tiwary about his handling of the transportation. He kept on avoiding us. We stopped at a dhaba for a light meal. Nilu's little-known cousin had warned us to come with an empty stomach. The warning had to be taken seriously as we had seen what their breakfast meant. So, lunch would be leagues above. We had targeted to reach their place by 3 PM. As we left the dhaba, it was 1 PM.
We rang up Om Logistics ourselves to find out that the bikes had arrived. The trouble was, being Bihu time, their office would close at 4 PM and will remain shut for the next 2 days. No way we could reach Guwahati by that time. PayengDa had disturbing news of his own. Although, his interview had gone well, he had lost the receipt to collect his bike at Guwahati Railway Station. Murphy's Laws were all coming true.
All of a sudden, we were time bound. Frantic calls everywhere.
Gyan called up his father to reach Om Logistics and get the bikes outside the godown. Next call was to cousin's place to ask if we could skip lunch, or even get it packed if they had started preparing. Only a few minutes earlier, we were thinking of taking a beer-break before we reach the cousin's place. It would be a long wait before we could taste some more rice beer. But now, that option was chucked out. Our minds were racing. Nilu's was racing even faster as the onus was on him to make time. Plus, he was also racing his Fiesta. Only the transmission warning was slowing us down. On top of that, we were stopped by a number of Bihu dance groups who blocked the road and then asked for money. Even with the lack of alcohol, our intelligence wasn't failing us. We judged that since our ILPs were active from 16th, we could collect the bikes on 16th morning also and reach Bhalukpong by evening. Only that the bikes wouldn't be serviced. So, we hadn't reached critical point yet. But Nilu was not comforted. He said that we would be making even grander plans soon. He was right. But then, Nilu's cousin called and we could not escape them. We had to make a stop. So now, we had to eat up real fast, as fast as we had ever eaten. Still, even with the presence of gobblemouths, we would not be able to make it in less than half hour. To make matters worse, a certain Sumo Grande and a Tata Nano overtook us, that too with honks. Nilu was burnt crisp. But he was helpless. His car must have shared the sentiment because right then the warning light went off. We were back on full power.
Nilu came back in form. He overtook the two vehicles back, that too with honks. Sweet revenge. But at one instant, it came too close to comfort. Still, he and his vehicle had proved the point, and both of them relaxed. The warning light came back on.
Now, the news started getting better. Gyan's father had done it. We could collect the bikes from the godown at any instant today. That meant we could enjoy a full meal now. Now we got carried away and thought of more plans but Nilu stopped us.
We reached the cousin's place and enjoyed a hearty meal. Nilu presented them with gifts bought in Bhutan. Still, we were not relaxed. Our minds were with our machines. The food was a great distraction. Doley was the master here. He accepted everything, and more. He had been tolerating the pain in his neck for long. This was the treatment time. He even had good helpings of the rice beer.
Thanking our hosts again for their splendid hospitality, we started off again. Our moods were lifted up now. The weather had gone cloudy and a cool breeze was blowing. Doley had gotten high from all the rice beer and showed it. We were LOUD. Music volume turned high, Full headbanging in the backseat. His neck was cured for sure. A black Scorpio was encountered. Nilu played with it. He was playing with me also at the same time. GRRRRRRR. If only I had the wheel.
But as we reached Guwahati, we were in for a rude shock. We sighed on seeing our machines. Then at closer look, we were hit. All the bikes had sustained damage. Rear indicators were broken for most of them. Dutta's rear backrest had broken off. Doley's Classic suffered the hardest. Seeing a dent on a brand new bike is heart breaking. The petrol tank had a dent on it. The side box was badly scratched. The side stand had twisted and was unusable. Gyan's Karizma was in bad shape too. The fairing, the cowl, the console, everything was broken. Tiwary was in for another dose. He would get more once we get back to Delhi. Even though we were glad to be on our machines, we were scarred by the injuries.
All of us gathered at Gyan's place. Nilu went off briefly to his home to clean up and returned later. We called up PayengDa also. We still had not met Mamaji. So, in effect, the Buccaneers had still not united in full strength.
Another treat night. A table was loaded with snacks at the second level. This was to be another amazing night. Our laughter must have reached the lower levels as well. We all narrated Gyan's smashing moments to PayengDa and enjoyed another hearty laugh. Those events would crack me up whenever they are recounted.

Bike Preps in Guwahati

15 April 2011
All of us were up by, wait for it, 6 AM. Shocking. PayengDa had hardly slept the night before. Gyan was the last to wake up at 7. He was shocked to see all of us already finished with tea. Then we sat down for breakfast. It included, what else, gahori.
The day's plan was to get the motorcycles ready for the mountains of Arunachal. We did find two open shops nearby and then got the carriers fitted on the Bullets. Also, some other odd jobs. The mechanics at the Bullet shop were punjabis. They told us how difficult it was to get parts in that region. Nilu had arranged another bike for PayengDa. It was owned by a friend of his colleague. Nilu arrived late and then left with PayengDa to collect it. In between the two workshops was a theka. Doley and I made use of it and then Gyan came sniffing. He has superhuman capabilities. By 1 PM, all the bikes were ready. We took lunch nearby at a restaurant. Thats the great thing about Guwahati. Most restaurants serve non-veg, and that too, good non-veg, theres a theka to be found everywhere. It can beat Gurgaon in that aspect. This time the guys took fish while I opted for plain, old chicken. This would be my staple food in the second leg of the trip.
From this moment on, it was an anxious wait for the morning. We had planned to start on our motorcycles by 6 AM. So, we planned to drink low that night. But such plans seldom succeed. Old college buddies arrived at Nilu's place. It was great to meet Debajit Boro and Gyan Doley after so long. Still, the night did not go on very long and we were asleep by midnight. Awaken, 5 hours later.

Guwahati to Bhalukpong

16 April 2011
Today we ride. Excitement was paramount. It felt wonderful to tie the luggage after so long. We left Nilu's house at 6:30 AM. Gyan and Mamaji joined us near Gyan's home. This was the first time all seven Buccaneers were together. It was a high riding through the roads of Assam. But strangely, we were going at a very slow speed. The ones in the lead were thinking why the riders behind them were not gaining. The riders at the back were thinking why the ones in the front were not speeding up. Enough of the thinking, I gave the throttle. Assam has a lovely weather to ride in. Cool breezes accompany you everywhere. Another reason was that we were trying to stay clear of Dutta. The road condition at the byepass was excellent. But it grew bad as we reached Rajiv Chowk. It continued this way till the mighty Brahmaputra was crossed. That was another high feeling. They say this river holds more water than the Ganges and holds a very high current.
We were on NH-52, a new highway for me. Its a superb highway. The surroundings are very green. Being the only non-Assamese of the group, i asked the others what was the greenest time of the year. The reply was all around the year. Even though we were on plain ground, the road was meandering. So, there were lots of opportunities for our scraping Guru, Nilu. The only trouble are the groups of goats frequently crossing the road. We covered 60 kms quickly and then stopped at a roadside stall for tea. Omelettes were also ordered. Our destination was not far. So, we took it easy. The hydration pack I was gifted from Nishant Jha proved to be very useful.
As we moved on, Nilu's 200 started giving trouble. It was found that all the engine oil was missing. So, it had to be periodically topped up. Then the main stand started clanging against the body. We stopped at a local mechanic to get it fixed. We stayed for only 10 minutes, but we had attracted a large crowd in that time. Riders with their gears and loaded motorcycles tend to have that effect on people. It feels good to bring some excitement into their erstwhile boring lives.
We moved on to group up with the others. The others were smoking when we got there. Then, we found that the building just behind them was the National Rural Health Mission. Maybe, they knew it. We reached Tezpur by noon. PayengDa got the tyres of his rented bike changed as they had badly worn out. Nilu and Gyan went in search of their respective showrooms for minor jobs. I also searched for a Bullet mechanic, but they had no spares. So, the rest of us sat down besides the tyre shop thinking of what to do next. There was only one thing we could do. Doley and I went to get beer from the nearby shop. Dansberg 15000. The variety of beer in this trip was only increasing. We brought four bottles back to the tyre shop and waited for the rest to appear. The freedom of having beer by the roadside. The passing crowd wasn't bothered in the slightest. By this time, Gyan had also returned again proving his superhuman sniffing powers.
Nilu's expression was a sight when he returned. Its also recorded in one of Mamaji's videos. This was another trend on the trip. Whenever, Gyan and I were left alone, we were found some distance ahead at a theka.
We stopped for lunch at KF Lounge nearby. The lounge was a luxurious but affordable place. More beer bottles opened here. They also allowed smoking. You can't get such places in Delhi and Mumbai anymore.
After leaving the lounge, we took the turn towards Bhalukpong. The road started out well until we reached a roundabout. The way straight on was a muddy road. This was the road to Arunachal Pradesh. We knew we would be in for a dirty ride, but we had not expect to run into it so soon. We swerved and skidded our bikes forward. PayengDa had just had a close shave with a cow on the road. His leg guard had saved him.
The road did smoothen out later on, but only briefly. The closer we were got to the border, the greener it got. We had to make it to the border before 5 PM. We arrived there at 4:30 PM. All people crossing the border must carry the Inner Line Permit and sign up. Photography is strictly prohibited. But Mamaji didnt knew and was recording a video. He was promptly caught and made to turn off the camera.
Our hotel was only a short distance ahead. The last 35 kms had been tiring. But we reached to find a disturbing news. The agent had not informed the hotel manager about our bookings. We just lay around waiting for the manager to get in touch with the agent, but the call was not able to get through. It often happens in that region. But finally, things were sorted out and we went into our rooms. Each room was a different size. Without wasting any time, we freshened up and quickly gathered downstairs in the open lawn to start the evening assembly.
One of the three Blender's came out. I was tired from playing bartender for too long and this time, Gyan did the duties. We asked the experience of the new riders. After days of guffaws, this session was passing out slowly. But one man stood up to the occassion. Dutta, or John, as he's called henceforth. A stray cat was attracted to our table. And John got more attracted to the cat, or pussy. He then said something unthinkable. Meow. All of us were startled for a second and then burst out laughing. It didn't take long for the bottle to finish.
The manager now asked us to get our motorcycles down the flight of stairs into the garden, for safety purposes. Grand Theft Auto was high here being the border town. I was reluctant at first but when every other machine was parked in the garden, I gave in too. We went to sleep excitedly. Tomorrow we would be riding in one of the wildest terrains.

Bhalukpong to Dirang

Wild
KF red at Tenga
Fikar Not
Maneaters
two arunachali women in alto
dhaba rum - Mota bhai
17 April 2011
In the far east, you tend to wake up early. We were all ready and got down to haul the bikes up the stairs. My partners had failed to get pork for dinner this time. So, we made it sure it was available when we reach back to this place during the return trip. We had puri-sabzi as breakfast. Keeping the stops to minimum, we packed our stomachs and we were off. Our destination was 160 kms away.
Immediately, we encountered mud and slush. It continued this way for 25 kms. We would be in for a rough time during the return leg, and we sure were. For the time being, we were enjoying the wild roads. PayengDa was the busiest man as he took the lead and then took photographs of the riders in action.
After 25 kms, though we touched tarmac, we also got slopes. Arunachal roads are steep, very steep. The trucks we saw were having a tough time climbing the roads. We were able to cover only 25 kms an hour. Nilu stopped us seeing that one of my jerrycans was leaking. We emptied its contents into Doley's Bullet. The Classic was a real beast. It was pulling ahead effortlessly. After the ascent, came the descent. This was also a steep one. And then we saw military signs everywhere. BRO's Project Vartak. Amusing signboards of "Be Gentle on my Curves" were displayed here too. And then a haunting board, "You are entering Maneaters Zone". It turned out to be the Kumaon Maneaters Regiment. It was followed by the Fikar Not Regiment. There is high military presence in this state. Nilu and PayengDa were enjoying extended spells of photography. That left Gyan and me again in the lead. And then the inevitable happened. When we reached the Tenga town, we stopped for others to regroup. We had intended to stop at a tea stall. But right on the spot, was a wine shop. It was unintentional. Honest.
I'm always interested in tasting some new brand of beer. In small towns, light beer is rare. But the wine shop did offer KF Red. I hadn't seen this brand up north. Strangely, this was also sweet in taste. It must be due to the water being used in the breweries. We both waited to catch Nilu's expression. Its hilarious to see the "WTF" expression on his face.
As we finished our refreshers, others shopped for military goods in the neighbouring shop. Doley even bought jungle boots. These came out to be much helpful later on. Nilu needed more engine oil. A local biker took him to a shop where he could get one to match his specifications. Most of the bikes were R15s.
At one of the turns, PayengDa slipped and his bike fell to the ground. No damage to either man or machine as we carried on. Now, we were getting close to BomdiLa. It has been one of my long sought targets to reach that place. But when we reached there, all my perceptions about the place were washed off. I had imagined it be a mountain pass. It turned out to be a city. I had imagined it to have sub zero temperatures. It turned out to be a hotbed. It was also lunch time now. One of the locals suggested a place 5 kms after crossing the city. It was the best suggestion. The nameless dhaba turned out the most delicious meal that we would have in that state. Well cooked chicken and pork. The lady owner was very joyful herself. When we saw one of the other guests having a peg of rum, we also immediately a bottle for ourselves. It had to be mixed with water from a kettle. If ever someone is passing through that road, make sure you stop there for a meal. There's only this dhaba, 5 kms after crossing Bomdila. The server had high praise for us. He kept on repeating the words, "maan gaye aapko". He also spoke of the tremendous beauty of Tawang.
Dirang was only 35 kms away now. But 5 kms later, the road conditions again deteriorated. It was again slow pace till we reached our guest house, oddly named Awoo Resort. Yet again, our rooms were on the 2nd floor. Nilu had been in contact with his boss in Guwahati and we met him and another colleague here. Nilu frequently has drinks with him and he turned out to be a jovial person. The trouble was he was often called back by his family who disproved of his drinking habit.
The following day we would be reaching our destination, Tawang.

Dirang to Tawang

18 April 2011
In the morning, we woke up to load our bikes again. Nilu's colleagues were going to stay for another day at Dirang. They suggested us to visit PTSO lake at Tawang. We had 140 kms to cover today. As we were packing our luggage, PayengDa happened to cut his finger. He was applied first aid. Luckily, it was not serious enough to limit his riding capabilities.
The road was smooth for some distance. Then the ascent to Sela Pass, alt. 13700ft, started. This was the first and only pass we would be traversing on our trip. Mountain passes have a different thrill. It gives a sense of accompalishment as you cross one threshold and enter another. It was on the foothills, that we stopped for our first break. Suddenly, we saw PayengDa on the ground. He must have tripped or something and we burst out laughing. We were also regretting that Gyan, our main fall guy, hadn't fallen yet. This was all the more amusing to Gyan.
As we climbed higher, temperature began to drop. We stopped at an Army canteen 22 kms before the pass for breakfast. It also had an interesting tagline:

The canteen served us with dosas and veg biryani. The jawan serving us also refered to us as Sir. This was embarassing for us and we requested him not to. These are the soldiers guarding the extremities of our country in the extremes of climate against our toughest enemy. And yet, he was humble enough to call us as Sir. It was ovewhelming.
We saw more tourists heading towards Tawang. Mostly are government employess from Bengal and Assam. As we climbed higher, we also found snow. And then we were on top. Snow and mist surrounded us. A large lake was located nearby. It looked like a scene from heaven. We had our group photograph here. John chose to be aloof and waited for us some distance ahead.
The road downhill was superb. We passed through yet another military area where photography was prohibited. But the scenery around us was fantastic. Picture a stream running downhill through snow-clad mountains with yaks grazing around it. Some distance ahead, we stopped at Jaswantgarh. This is a war memorial dedicated to Rifleman Jaswant Singh. It is in memory of three soldiers who fought against the Chinese Army in the 1962 war. Lesser armed they managed to seize an MMG reigning hell over the Indian Army after a 72 hour battle. Their action broke the invincible image of the Chinese. Even today, his bed is arranged and a meal is placed in the memorial. Stories of valour where soldiers sacrifice their lives while we measly people squabble about insignificant things like parking space in our cities.
Another officer posted on the eastern front of Arunachal met us here. He was visiting Tawang on some work. It is a routine for Army personnel to pay homage here whenever they pass. Maj. Arjun admired our enthusiasm to ride to Tawang all the way from Guwahati. He also told us about his younger brother who also trips frequently but not on motorcycle.
Our next stop was Jung. Just before the city limits started, we stopped at a dhaba for lunch. Right next door was a wine shop. There was only one thing to do. The wine shop was being managed by a mother with her child sitting right next to her. Women's Liberation. The variety of beer it offered was tremendous. Even pints were available. We chose Carlsbergs and Tuborgs. Then had a hefty lunch of chicken and rice. Needless to say, it was delicious. Some schoolkids got attracted to the seven bikes parked outside. We also had some fun with them putting our helmets and gloves on them. I hope some of them grow up to be riders.Before leaving the dhaba, we asked for directions to Jung Falls. It was just 7 kms away. The Falls are not visible until you make the final turn. And then, you are dwarfed by the sheer size of the Falls. This place came highly recommended. As is our affinity, whenever we see water, we get the tendency to take a dip in it. The weather was turning cloudy and it was getting cold. What better way to shoo it away than to take a dip in the chilling water.
So, Doley, PayengDa, Nilu and I stripped down and ran towards the Falls. But as closer we got to the foot of the falls, the scarier it sounded. The force of the water sounded enormous. To build up our bravery we took a swig of the Blender's with us and moved forwards. It took a good 5-6 swigs to get us as close to the foot as possible. But there was no more courage to gather. We were already being blinded by the spray. The cold water stung at each part of the body. Icicles like spray was applying acupressure. So we chose the smaller fall just near the main one to shower ourselves. Even here the pressure was great. Gyan chose a longer route to get close to us to click some priceless photographs.
We must have showered for 20 minutes. It is a good therapy to stay warm. Little did we know what was in store for us. Near the Falls, Nilu and I had made the mistake of shouting out aloud, "C'mon, Is that all you got?". Someone above did not like that humour. The punishment came later on.
As we reached back to our motorcycles, a large number of vehicles started arriving. Some delegates were visiting Tawang. What was unusual was that they made way for the motorcycles to pass through. In the north, if such a case happens, you are yelled at to make way for the VIP, even pushed and shoved. Just as we were leaving a lady, most probably from Arunachal only, stopped me and asked,
"Are you Riders from outside Arunachal?"
Me - "Yes. from Assam. We are coming from Guwahati"
Ma'am - "You're riding all the way to Tawang from Guwahati?"
Me - "Yes Ma'am"
Ma'am - "Ride Safe"
Me - "Thank You"
Now, friends and family will vouch that I'm not a frequent user of that phrase, but it was the words that Ma'am used that were striking. First of all, she used the word "Rider" and not "Biker". Then the parting words that are used by each and everyone of us, "Ride Safe".
Tawang was only 30 kms away. But the sun had set and clouds were hovering above us. Only a short distance later, it started to drizzle. We stopped and put on our rain suits. Nilu was little skeptical about this given the distance left, but he also put it on. It was a damn good thing that he did because 5 kms later, the drizzle turned into a downpour. PayengDa did not have one. And then it grew worse.
20 kms separated us from our destination. It had gotten dark now and the rain was getting heavier. Until this point, Gyan was leading. But he is handicapped at night. So, he asked me to take the lead. I did and then hailstorm started. I could imagine how the bass drum of SLAYER must feel like in concerts because the hail was beating us relentlessly. So much for "Is that all you got?". The roads were all slushed as mud and stones were rolling on it. It felt as if we were riding on a river, a 20 km long river. Second gear was rarely engaged. Tarmac was hard to locate. With Nilu guiding his headlight behind me, we were able to add more light on the view ahead and navigate. But many a times, it was just feet-down-high-throttle-drag-through. Lightning did help us. Later, Nilu pointed out how he could see lightning below our eye level, but I was just too scared to look sideways. As we got closer to the town, along with stones and mud, came filth. There is too much garbage in the city. It took us 2 hours to cover 30 kms and finally we were in the city.
When we reached our hotel, there was no parking space. So, the attendant suggested the branch 1.5 kms ahead. It was still raining heavily. He got on the back of PayengDa's bike and we followed him to the second hotel. The roads of this town are steep, very steep, highly steep. The weather made sure that our engines did not overheat. We parked our motorcycles on reaching the second hotel and just stood there under the shelter for 10 minutes. It was exhausting. The last 20 kms had drained us. Unloading was a huge task. It must have been mind over matter that we got our things to our rooms, again on the second floor.
All the rooms had heaters. Soon, we were out of our wets and into dries. We absorbed all the heat from the heaters. Dinner was vegetarian. We were all disappointed on having vegetables after such a prolonged spell of meat. A few pegs of rum also helped in getting warm. Sleep came easily.

Tawang stay

no luck day
round and round
Heli crash
Chhang Gela
17 April 2011
We had expected to stay asleep for a long time. But still, we were wide awake at 8 AM. I had woken up even earlier at 7 AM and got in conversation with one of the cab drivers on the places to visit. He suggested Madhuri Lake, 50 kms away. The place is known for shooting of the film, Koyla. Yes, we also suspect that the name of the lake was changed after the shoot. The road to the lake is said to be a tough one.
After having tea, we set out to explore the town. Nilu was leading. Dutta had chosen to stay in the room and dry off his riding clothes. It turned out to be a very wise decision. We were also carrying with us the cook at the hotel so that he could shop for chicken for our dinner. After dropping him off, we went to the nearby petrol pump to fill up our bikes. We got numerous stares on our way. Now, Nilu started to ask for directions towards the lake. We followed him. Again, the stares. Now, he made a U-Turn and headed the other way. We followed. Stared at again. On asking for directions ahead, he again U-turned. We followed. Now the stares were turning into glares. We stopped at the ATM for a while. A man came up to me and said Hello. He reeked of alcohol. At 10 AM in the morning. People are a happy lot. He asked to be dropped some distance ahead. I mumbled something about going the other way and took off. We did go some distance ahead and then again U-turned. WTF!
After some more U-turns and glares, we thought we were heading in the right direction in a near vertical climb. Suddenly, Gyan's Karizma turned off. He had some electric issue. The connection was breaking while turning the handle towards the left. So, he could ride but turn only in the right direction. We came down again, crossed the same road yet again and stopped at a mechanic. He opened quite a lot of parts and arrived at the problem. A broken wire. This was fixed. We asked the same guy about apong, the local rice beer. He pointed us to two shops nearby. Nilu and I discovered them to be ahaatas. But when we stepped inside, we found some locals having beer. On asking the caretaker, we were told that nobody drinks that anymore. Modern breweries had taken over.
Since, it was late now, we dropped the idea of going to Madhuri lake and chose the nearby PTSO lake, 12 kms away. But first, we needed some food. Dragon restaurant fooled us saying it would take one hour to prepare our meal. So, we went to a Assamese restaurant nearby and ordered chicken thalis. The owner was an Assamese too and he told us that he would find some rice beer for us. We could collect it in the evening. After a hefty lunch, we set off for PTSO, 12 kms away. Again, the market rounds continued. When we finally started going in the right direction, Nilu and I were stopped at a military check post. The others had sped away by this time. He asked for ILPs. We had left them in the rooms, so Nilu had to go back to retrieve them. Then, another senior military man came forward and told us that the entry time to go upto PTSO was over. He could not allow us to go forward. Even if he allowed us, the check post up ahead would stop us. We had simply run out of luck.
That was when the tragedy happened. A man came running and told us that a helicopter had crashed at the local helipad. We reached back to our hotel and from the roof, we could see smoke on the mountain opposite. Details came later. A Pawan Hans helicopter had crashed killing 17 people. The pilot and co-pilot had bailed out before the crash. The whole market closed. These are decade old choppers and are still operating. More such tragedies are just waiting to happen unless these copters are decomissioned.
There was nothing left for us to do now. After sometime, Gyan went out to bring the Chhaang. He returned with a 2 litres bottle costing Rs 20. Most didn't like the taste. They said it was some low-quality chhaang. I, on the other hand, was having glassfuls of it, non-stop. It was not having any effect. I wondered what all the commotion was about. It must have been a rare event that the bottle went unfinished amongst us.
We went to sleep early as the following day was going to be Hard Ride day.