Another year, another mission in ‘Incredible India’, this time round decided it to brave the new Himalayan.
Now I’ve read the good, the bad and the ugly (it is very ugly) about this bike, so why would I choose it? Well when your choices are an Electra, Bullet or ‘off-road’ Himalayan which would you go for? Considering that a fair amount of the roads in India can be describe as dirt roads, then why not have a punt on the new off-road bike……
The new and….
..the old
You decide, the new Himalayan v my old Bullet Electra
First impressions were positive, it started. It even ran ok across town. The problems began when I foolishly left it in a Royal Enfield garage for half an hour while I popped into town. 20km later, on my test ride, the bike came to an abrupt halt. It appeared to have a fuel issue, the issue being that the garage had stolen all of it! I’d forgotten I was back in India. A free wheel down the hill and a loan of a small amount of fuel, I was back at the petrol station and ready to go again.
Taking an enforced rest!
The next day we loaded up our mules for the journey and we set off. My boyfriend (Zach) had kindly given me the older of the two bikes we had rented (pay back for an earlier trip he claimed) and it soon became apparent why, mine had, shall we call them, a few characteristics. A slightly bend steering rack, giving great vibration at 60kph plus, a nicely worn third gear, giving me a delightful tune as I whisked along, and a badly worn front sprocket, a hidden surprise for later.
The loaded machine with quality Indian luggage!
The first day pasted by nicely. I managed to win the battle of ‘ram your bike through the smallest gap’….a van bumper was the only casualty. Zach claimed that his racks made it more difficult, but I managed to take the van bumper off with my soft luggage, so I didn’t understand the problem. Then we were out on the mountain roads around the Shimla area. Our final destination is never that clear, but first of all we were heading to Bir then Zach could do a bit of Paragliding. By mid afternoon I picked myself up a small wobble on the corners, strange I though, must be the slime in the tubeless not quite right. Alas, it turned out to be a puncture, no tubeless in these babies. 77p spent at the puncture shop and we were on our way again.
Manu fixed it in about 15 minutes!
After an overnight in Chail, then we were on the road again. The early bird catches the suicide monkey, it threw itself under Zach’s front tyre, but somehow did a super hero roll and survived. Then the dreaded puke bag, how could I forget?! The first puke bomb (yes a bag of puke that one of the customers in the bus had produced) from the bus window narrowly missed me, thanks to great Royal Enfield handling I managed to dodge it just in time. Then it was on to the live chicken van….this time I failed to avoid the poo and feathers. Oh well, you win some you lose some. Clearing the Jalori Pass (3120m) without any major incident was the highlight of the day, well if being covered in poo and feathers in not your thing. We had been recommended a hotel in Jibhi which actually turned out to be really nice. Sometime things in India are incredible.
Reaching the 3120m summit!
Cow jam on the way down.
Turns out that my tyres were not that great in the wet, maybe because they were mounted backwards?! The pedestrian’s face said it all as I sideways slide towards him in the morning. I managed to bring the Himalayan to a holt, and he jumped out the way, meaning no damaged done to person or bike. My heart rate was a little increased, but that was about it. A few narrow overtaking manoeuvres, and another missed puke bomb (more like little pellets this time as it was direct instead of coming in a bag) and we made it down to the main road to Mandi. A mixture of dirt road and dual carriage way took us on to Bir. Unfortunately, the Himalayan failed its brake test near the end of the day when it refused to slow down quickly enough when Zach did an abrupt stop in front of me. Luckily, he had luggage racks…..
Watching Zach land from out hotel room balcony.
Bir Back Roads
I borrowed Zach’s bike for a quick ride over to see the Dalia Lama. I wanted to hear a different tune to ‘third gear whining’ a very nice track, but it can become tiresome. However, Zach’s bike appeared to make no noise at all, not even a peep from the horn. Now, if you’ve ever ridden in India you know that not having a horn is akin to not having any handlebars. I somehow managed to make it to Dharamshala and back with this small issue (even up the very steep hill as I though Goggle maps was wrong), and I decided to put the bike back and not say a word.
Safety first on the way to Dharamhsala
Now some people have said I’m a little crazy, but to me, crazy is being 70 years old, leaving America for the first time (ok second, the first time was a trip to the UK so that doesn’t count), traveling to the other side of the world to travel of the back of your son’s motorbike in India, and not just any old bike, a Royal Enfield! That’s exactly what Zach’s mum (Jennifer) did. Two became three.
Zach and Jennifer
It was off from Bir to Manali – why – well it was closer to the mountains. Zach started off well by pulling off a fairly daring over-taking move of a bus moving like a crab. His mum didn’t seem to notice so I decided it was best not to mention anything. Then it was on through the pitch-black tunnel, made all the more fun by the fact that my helmet visor was too scratched to see through (note to self, take better helmet on next trip). A lunchtime photo shoot at a local restaurant and it was on, up through the construction to Manali.
Lunchtime party!
In Manali we learnt how to forge the documents we needed to obtain a ‘Pollution Under Control Certificate’ to take on the Rohtang Pass. It was fairly easy with advice from the local bike rental shop. After I purchased some oversize gloves, as I wasn’t exactly prepared for 5000m riding, we were off on the next leg of our adventure. Hopping around all the jeeps and trucks on the way up the pass was fun until my bike decided it was just too high….at about 3000m it refused to move above 20km an hour. The jeeps and trucks then had fun hopping around me. Luckily from the top (3978m) it was downhill dirt all the way to Khoksar. Well, this is India, so the road was not all dirt – 1km of perfect tar followed by 3km of dirt etc.
Rum gives me horsepower!
I take all my best riding gear to India! Top of Rohtang Pass 3178m
Keylong provided us with a hotel for the night, and a bottle shop with Old Monk rum (India’s finest), what more could a girl wish for? A local garage fixed my lazy Enfield, then it was off to Baralacha Pass (4850m). An almost perfect tar road took us up to 4850m, I almost felt cheated of the adventure. All I hope is that the onward road on to Ley is more challenging. The lack of cows, monkeys, pukers at this altitude detracted from the enjoyment, but I guess the views were ok.
On the road up, and up, and….
…and up and up…..
..and up to 4850m!
Why didn’t we go to Ley because it was already early November, the road should have already been closed and Jennifer had a flight to catch!
By the time we got back down the road past Manali I started to hear an interesting noise coming from my bike….it sounded like ‘your front sprocket is &*^%ed you better change it very soon’. Indeed, the sprocket looked to have teeth on it that now resembled waves. Now, here is the problem with the Himalayan, after I managed to nurse my bike back over the Jalori Pass and into to the closest town I discovered that Himalayan parts are ‘not possible’. To add to my cheery mood, Zach had suggested earlier that we made our way straight to Shimla, but I was sure we’d find parts in this town. Having a broken bike came second to Zach being right!
Good few kilometres left in that!
I limped into Shimla (125km of fun) at 30kph….being over taken by buses is not only embarrassing but dangerous! To add to the fun my clutch cabled snapped a few km’s out of town. Luckily, we had a new one which was attached in place using a very useful tool borrowed from the Coke Cola sales man. I’m not even sure what the tool was, but it did the trick! A few km’s out of town we found the mother of all Enfield shops…bike fixed and ready to go in 2 hours!
This is not photoshopped!
Breaking in the new chain and sprockets gently I raced Zach all the way to Renuka Lake. I won. He didn’t give up though, sparks flying off the bottom of his bike on many occasions (the centre stand sat a little low). He claimed that having Jennifer on the back made him a little slower, but I’m not sure about that, after all, the Himalayan has 411cc of pure power!
411cc of power Indian power!
From Renuka Lake it was up and over the dirt road on into the ‘Incredible Flats’. I had missed the smell of fumes and the continuous horn use. It’s actually a lot of fun fighting with the traffic, especially if you win. No orange juice with Masala spice on this trip, we had been lucky enough to try this on our last visit to India, and we had decided it was an acquired taste, one which we haven’t yet acquired!
However, Tuborg is acceptable.
Back at our base in Rishikesh we safely delivered Jennifer to Dehradun airport, she had survived, and had loved nearly every minute of it. It’s true what they say, most people have a love hate relationship with India. Sometimes you are winning and it can be truly, well, incredible, and sometimes it throws you a puke bomb. It was time to prepare for our Nepal mission….but first..
Had to be done!
