Vertical Limit

Vivek Sharma takes off on a first-of-its-kind ‘All Terrain Vehicle’ expedition in the Himalayas

The mighty Himalayas are like a magnet attracting adventure lovers from all over the globe and though after having returned they cross their hearts and swear never to return, they can never stop themselves from coming back again and again.

Always in quest of an adrenaline rush, the invitation to join a group of Israeli businessmen (multi-millionaires in their professional fields) and adventure enthusiasts for a ten day ATV (All Terrain Vehicle) expedition from Manali to Leh was almost like a dream come true.

There are many accomplishments that can get you ‘charged’, but the very idea of man and machine pitted against the formidable mountain range promised a different ‘high’ altogether.

As we set off for the epic journey, with a posse of 12 mean machines, ATVs ranging from 250-600cc Hondas to the brutish 650cc Polaris, thundering away to Rohtang Pass (3980 mts), the first of the six high altitude passes to be conquered, I got an inkling that I was going to get more than what I had bargained for.

Within no time one of the ATVs flipped over in the slush while on a short cut on the way to Koti. While a few egos were bruised it was a shot in the arm for team bonding, a ritual I watched as a spectator as I was still viewed as an appendage to the expedition. Before coming to the Himalayas Uri Rapport, a physicist, inventor and multi-millionaire business tycoon, and his team had done three off-roading expeditions in Kenya.

The bikers were an interesting mix like the polio-stricken bricks-and-stone man Nissim Sabin (a dealer in construction and building materials), Yoav (real estate entrepreneur), Adi (police officer), Mordechal (commercial pilot), Robin (Uri’s wife and a teacher), David Leshem and Oz Leshem (barely into his teens), all intrepid travellers with a passion for off-roading. Akshay Kumar, co-expedition leader and head honcho of Mercury Himalayan Explorations (in-charge of ground handling) and an avid adventure enthusiast completed the team. My passion and penchant for rallying notwithstanding, I was a mere shutterbug.

From Koti we hit the ancient mule route also known as the spice route connecting Afghanistan to India. Climbing up to Rohtang Pass, rattling over rocks and dancing around sharp narrow bends with the valley a small 500 mts fall on the other side, I was convinced that a parachute should be an essential part of the gear.

By night fall we reached Dadarpul in the valley across the pass, the first camp site with the team transitioning from five-star to budget accommodation. Taking stock of the first day Adi commented, “It was incredible, gaining an elevation of 1,000 ft in just one day but it was also scary and dangerous.” For starters it had been an eventful day as the big daddy, the 650cc Polaris did not take too well to the rigours of a water crossing and high altitude and played truant for a while and had to be towed by a Honda while a 300cc Honda broke its chasis. A spot job of rewelding and it was back in action.

The first rays of light and the grandeur of the surroundings dawned upon the group. We were surrounded by a gallery of towering and massive rocky mountains. Popularly called the ‘Valley Of Shadows’, it is stark and startling, a sharp contrast to the picture postcard beauty of the Manali side.

Rolling on the dusty valley floor, the ATVs were zipping at quite a fast speed, towards Kunzum pass (4,551 mts), very much at home on loose gravel than the tarmac. Setting off at full steam and reaching the Pass twice as fast was a mistake and soon altitude sickness began claiming victims like flies off the wall. Besides the pleasure and satisfaction of achievement, headaches, nausea, loss of appetite and sleep – all symptoms of altitude sickness – are some of the other attractions of the Himalayas.

Headaches and nausea notwithstanding, clear indications of entering higher realms of rarified atmosphere, the convoy gamely pushed further north of the Pass for an aerial view of Chandra Tal lake. A huge blotch of shimmering blue, Chandra Tal was a mesmerising sight. The magnificence was soon replaced by a sense of alarm, which began thickening the air. One of the team members, perhaps too shell-shocked with the arresting landscape, got left behind somewhere in the vastness and the team had no bearings on his location.

A sigh of relief seemed to echo as loud as a gunshot as the ‘lost one’ crackled over the wireless. But the euphoria only lasted a minute. When quizzed about his location, he simply replied, “I don’t know!” It was an honest-to-God answer. It is a tough ask to pin point your location when there is a never-ending gallery of mountains with zero vegetation, no landmark or monument and above all nobody to ask directions, never mind the language.

“I crossed the bridge, the prayer flags and now I don’t know where I am,” he lamented. However, thanks to the GPS navigation equipment (the bikes were fitted with state-of-the-art technology that can match a Land Cruiser like independent suspension, electric shift gears, analogue digital speedometer etc) he managed to get back on track and return to the fold.

On the way to Karzong monastery, the sterling ball joint of a Bombadier 500cc came off from its casting. Attempts to weld it did not bear results as it was made of cast aluminum. Finally M-seal, duct tape and a couple of thin wires did the trick and we did not have to bend over and look at it again. Besides the test of human endurance and technology, ingenuity is the key to success in the formidable terrain.

However, ingenuity is not much help to plug a bad case of diarrhoea, which afflicted a few members including yours truly on the third day. For two days the machines got a breather and I got a chance to drive a Honda 650cc, the best of the lot with independent suspension and electric shift gears. It was one hell of an experience but to really enjoy the drive the best bet is to book the back seat.

As we progressed further, gaining height and temperatures dipping with each foot, it was time to take things seriously as we approached Bara-la-cha Pass (16,500 ft), the highest till then. Thick black clouds were looming on the upper reaches and as we neared the Pass, snow flakes began to fall.

Visibility started to fade and the tracks disappeared. Progress was painfully slow. We lingered just long enough at the pass for a quick photo shoot and moved on down to the safety of lower altitude.

Next day the temperature continued to dip but the chill was relegated in the background as the route passed through the most amazing panorama. The mountains had unnatural hues and tones and with every passing kilometre, the topography kept changing along with the brilliant cloud patterns and play of light and shadow on the mountain peaks and dunes giving an ethereal feel. Pang Plateau, a kilometre long flat expanse is a veritable off-roader’s paradise and the Israelis cut loose, some of them executing breath taking wheelies.

We parked our wheels for two days at Tso Kar lake behind the plains of Pang, wandering around its edge, exploring abandoned villages and interacting with a group of nomads. By the ninth day, the rigours of off-roading were taking their toll on the men and machines. While machines were getting increasingly temperamental, health in general was deteriorating and three members had to be evacuated to Leh. The rest of the team pushed themselves on a long haul to Tso Moriri lake.

Fatigue was clearly setting in as one of the team members failed to see another ATV in a place where one could not even miss a stone. A big bang and three ATVs were enveloped in a big cloud of dust. One of the Hondas was so severely damaged that it had to be abandoned, right there in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully no one was hurt in the misadventure.

The final stretch before exiting from isolation was through a patch of sulphur springs. I suggested that the team ride up the streams, a nice photo opportunity plus it would give their ‘babies’ a much wanted bath. However, the boulders beneath were so huge that the bikes got stuck and they cursed me all the way up to the snow capped peaks for my creative suggestion. I tried the meek defence of it being all part of the game.

But all was forgotten on the final ascent of the trip, Khardungla Pass (18,380 ft), highest motorable road in the world. More than acclimatised, driving up was a piece of cake. ‘Hallejuah,’ the sense of accomplishment was dizzying and the hiccups on the way forgotten as one and all exulted in the feeling of being on top of the world. It was an unforgettable expedition, a roller coaster of an experience, one which can’t be fully expressed in words. As they say a picture is worth a thousand words.

All pictures: Vivek Sharma