The Mountain Motorcycle Diaries

7/28/2019 The Mountain Motorcycle Diaries

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i kw Milk Baba, a Nepalese sadhu who has undertaken many penances, spent 25 years living on just two litres o milk a day. i kw Only 21 Nepalese women have ever summited Everest.

nepal

When Its red you stop; When Its green, you

, xlai m iv, sil, w I ak im ab

nal a l. h v mbik i

a I jl backwa, clci i la jack, a w ll i

a am f zizai k-k a w-wl vicl. tck

a ca a bik a b a mccl cam wa

, al wi a ca f a ica bi.

W ivi a aila, kw, a, ki

fl ak lik ami a i. ti i j a lil bik.

The frst fve minutes spent playing chicken with trafc in Nepal

bursts any romantic bubble or Long Way Round antasies you

may have about crossing the country on the back o a motorbike.

Reality check: its scary and loud, and the only wind in your hair is

the dirty black plumes o smoke being emitted rom every diesel

and two-stroke engine that you pass.

For the next 11 days, Ill be circumnavigating this tiny mountainous

nation, taking in a range o hand-picked highlights, with a new tour

company called Himalayan Motorcycle Adventures. With experienced

local guides in the drivers seats, and a support vehicle carrying most

o our stu, this trip gives intrepid travellers an in-your-ace authentic

experience o some o the globes most amous landmarks.

We slalom along the our-lane highway, dodging the potholes and

wandering animals that litter our route out o Kathmandu. Bualos

walk blindly into the road and goats bolt rom side alleys. A truck

passes closely and we swerve to avoid making a resh corpse

out o a cow.

You get fned i you hit one o those, hollers Sunil rom

somewhere under his helmet, purple cap and Ray-Bans.

As we ride into a winding, narrow laneway, a vehicle ahead o us

hits its brakes hard and one o my six companions, John, a guy

rom Sydney whos riding solo, veers to the let to miss it, landing

sideways in a ditch. Although hes not hurt, its a reminder that

this is not your regular out-o-town excursion. The risks o ultimate

reedom are real. The excitement can come at a cost.

Back on track, we fnally replace big tokes o CO2

with large

lunguls o alpine air. The iconic emerald felds come into view,

little huts the colour o dried biscuits spread out on the hillside.

Pewter-grey boulders pepper the side o a rushing river that we

ollow all the way to our frst ofcial pit stop.

The Last Resort is exactly that the fnal place to get your kicks

beore hitting the Tibet border. Located three hours away rom

Nepals crowded capital, its a stunning spot with comortable saari-

style tents set up along the waters edge, and numerous hair-raising

activities. Here you can run river rapids or go canyoning, mountain

biking or hiking. Try canyon swinging, do a orest ropes course or

brave one o the worlds highest bungee jumps (160 metres).

As i to encourage or deter visitors rom actually attempting

the leap, the only thing connecting the road to the actual town

and tents is the bungee bridge itsel. Walking slowly towards the

platorm, my palms like ice and my guts in a mess, I pass pint-

sized men and women lugging baskets o rocks, bags o cement

and a variety o vegetables.

How many times have you done this? I ask the guy who is now

shackling my eet. You crazy? he laughs. Never. See how high

this is? I pray the multicoloured Tibetan ags stretched overhead

in an arc are just there or decoration. Then I shue close to the

edge, raise my arms level with my shoulders, dive orward and let

the silence swallow me.

The next morning, the rush in my body has subsided to a gentle

buzz, and a heavy downall o rain has brushed the valleys with a

glossy sheen. We wave goodbye to our camp and say hello again

to our choice o steed the Royal Enfeld Bullet.

A symbol o British and Indian manuacturing pride, the Enfeld

is one o the worlds oldest motorcycle brands still in production.

The Indian police and army once used them to patrol the countrys

borders, considering it the most suitable bike or the job thanks to

its super-cushy seat.

As we bounce along the road a painul 12km avalanche

o rocks and pebbles (the Nepalese version o gravel), towards

the border town o Kodari tall, leay trees give way to glorious

Himalayan mountains, leathery aces grow rounder and pink

cheeks more plump.

On arrival we shue through hordes o Sherpas and people

with packages containing undetected contraband (Im told beer

hidden underneath sleeping babies is popular) to the Sino-Nepal

Friendship Bridge, the link between Nepal and Tibet.

On the ar side o the thick white line in the middle o the

crossing are 20 or so stone-aced Chinese guards in perectly

pressed attire, standing in ront o a penitentiary-like compound.

On the Nepalese side, there are a couple o guys milling about in

shabby uniorms, next to a landslide o rubbish and a truck depot.

A young man suddenly appears, waving a large umbrella at me

(odd, seeing as the midday sun is cranking and theres not a rain

wi i a b a i mak i a f m

f w I am il a wma walk b avi alf a

a a am f a fa.

nepal

Babas beingbabas

at Kathmandus

Pashupatinath Temple.

A local villager weighed

down with a heavy load.

The Himalayan MotorcycleAdventures gang.

#52 lISSUE #37 ISSUE #37 l #53


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i kw It is orbidden to climb Machapuchare, Shivas sacred mountain. The only attempt was in 1957, but the summit wasnt reached.

nepal

i kw At Pashupatinath Temple in Kathmandu, where Hindu cremations are public, wives were once burned alive along with their husbands bodies.

cloud in sight). More guys arrive, all wildly yelling, pointing

their brollies at my hands and looking very unhappy. It occurs

to me that its the camera Im holding that is causing the ruckus.

Ater several ailed attempts to quell their excitement, and to

avoid getting arrested or being a spy, we leave or Nagarkot, a

one-night-stand type o town that counts Mount Everest among

its nearest neighbours.

Sometimes Nagarkot boasts spectacular sunrises and glimpses

o the worlds tallest peak other times the clouds close in

and youre let to do the walk o shame back to your hotel.

Unortunately, the latter is the case or us this morning, though the

iridescent sky behind the outline o the Himalayan peaks, and the

sight o tiny villages on the hilltops still make the trip worthwhile.

Over the next two days, we rattle along the oten-hazardous roads

with the rumble o the our-stroke, 500cc engine as our soundtr ack.

Sometimes we ride or three hours; sometimes we ride or seven.

Sometimes the road is good; sometimes its non-existent. Oten, the

towering pines and burnt-orange spring hues make it easy or me to

orget where I am until a woman walks by heaving hal a tree and

a hamper o stones strapped to her orehead.

Every hour or so we stop to drink tea, stretch our legs, play carrom

board (a table-hockey-like game) with the locals and admire the

views. Its time well spent getting to know my companions better,

including Junesh, our tour leader, whose knee-length dreads make

him look like a mishmash o Bob Marley and Lord Shiva, and

23-year-old Sunil, the owner o the back Ive been hugging or

the past ew days.

Somewhere between wandering the cobbled streets o Bhaktapur

with babas on bikes and monks in the latest Nikes, and elephant

trekking and dodging horse-drawn carts in Chitwan National Park,

I actually begin to believe theres method in all the madness on the

roads. I now dont blink when we turn into oncoming trafc and Ive

perected a new, seated yoga pose.

On day six, I discover that the best place to be with heat exhaustion

is anywhere but on the back o a motorcycle in Nepal. My brain

rattles around in my skull, my kidneys jar every time we hit a pothole,

Ive developed a two-pack-a-day habit rom all the umes and I can no

longer eel my bum. Sunil aectionately pats my leg every so oten,

either to check Im OK or to check Im still there.

Eventually I retire to the comort o the support vehicle, where

I sleep o my highway hangover much to the dismay o my driver,

Arjun. I am 54, he says, touching his nose. Can you believe it?

I look 25. Because I drink a jug o tea to clear the head every

morning and then 30 minutes jumping up and down. You could

not possibly look this good!

The peaceul, pilgrim-rich town o Lumbini, the birthplace o Buddha,

comes at just the right time. Ater a little temple sightseeing, quiet

reection and rest, Im ready to hit the highway again.

My wie, she vomit on this road, Arjun at tempts to reassure me

the next morning about the 200km drive ahead (our longest yet).

More than 100 times. Up and down, and round and round, always

twisting, always vomiting.

Though the road is, indeed, very twisty, the resh oxygen, pretty

valleys dotted with hot-pink rhododendrons, which make me think

Junesh walks the bungee

bridge - the only bridge that

connects The Last Resort

to the nearest town.

At Pashupatinath Temple

in Kathmandu, cremations

are a very public event.

Nearly there.

o a ix, I icv a b lac b wi a xai

i aw b back f a

mccl i nal.

ISSUE #37 l #55#54 lISSUE #37


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NEPAL

CHINA

INDIA

BANGLADESH

BUTAN

KATHMANDUKODARI

LUMBINI

POKHARA

get pLAnnIngg tAirAsia ies rom Melbourne, Gold Coast,

Sydney and Perth to Kathmandu via Kuala

Lumpur our times a week. Prices start

rom AU$780 return.

www.aiaia.cm

t tThe best way to see the beauty o Nepal

is on a motorbike like a local. Himalayan

Motorcycle Adventures oers Royal Enfeld

tours o eight days, 11 days or 22 days,

with accommodation and most meals and

activities (like rating) included. You can ride

your own bike (an international licence is

a must) or hire a driver so you can take a

back seat and enjoy the ride. All tours start

and end in Kathmandu, take in all the major

sights, plus a lot o sights tourists never see.

The 11-day tour costs AU$3540. Next trips

depart September. You can also add a trek.

www.imalaamcclav.cm

o Provence in France, and near-vertical

3000-metre slopes are plenty to keep

me enthused.

Eight hours later, we ride with black aces,

totally beat, into Pokhara where we are met

with a 20-motorcycle-long and our-bike-

deep queue at the petrol station the sign

that a uel strike is on the cards (a recurring

crisis here). With locals orbidden to drive

the ollowing day, unless they want to risk

the police confscating their keys, we fnd

ourselves a bit stuck.

Fortunately, Pokhara is not a bad place to

hang out or couple o days. Situated next to

the beautiul Phewa Lake, the town marks

the fnish line or the Annapurna Circuit trek

and is the start o a dozen or so more hikes,

rating trips and paragliding tours.

As Asias answer to Queenstown, New

Zealand, it is the perect place to drink a

ew well-earned Everest beers and take in

the spectacular 8000-metre rosty tops o

Annapurna, Annapurna II and Machapuchare,

or the Fish Tail, rom the air. Though, as I fnd

out, when you catch a good spin-wor thy wind

and mountain view during your paraglide then

you then land at the Feel Great Restaurant

not actually eeling all that great.

With our last days on the Enfeld and

in Nepal drawing to a close, and with the

strike having emptied the streets, we ride

eortlessly to our fnal destination: Royal

Beach Camp. A kayak clinic and rating

retreat with tents and thatched huts set

up on a sandy beach next to the sea-green

Trisuli River, this place is outdoor living at

its very best.

Theres a distinct change o pace here.

Days disappear in a haze, with aternoons

spent battling icy water in rats and evenings

lost while gorging on momos (steamed

dumplings) and sucking back beers in the

open-air beach cabana. Bonded by dust,

drama and the driving experience o the past

two weeks, we recap the highs and the lows.

Over 11 days, weve ridden more than

2000km on dirt roads, potholed roads and

no roads. During this time Ive seen just

two speed zones, one working indicator

and zero street signs; suered everything

rom bruises and blisters to sunstroke,

exhaust poisoning and dehydration; upset

a posse o umbrella-waving border guards,

thrown mysel o a bridge and been

paragliding in the Himalayas.

As someone who also spent his air

share o time doing things tough with a

bunch o bikers once said: Lie is not

a journey to the grave with the intention

o arriving saely in a pretty and well-

preserved body, but rather to skid in

broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn

out, and loudly proclaiming: Wow what a

ride! Im with you, Hunter S. Thompson.

nepal

Dodging vehicles on Nepals

winding mountain roads.

*Conditions& travelrestrictions apply. Advertised pricedoes not includeairfare. Pricescorrect asat 12 June2013 &subjectto availability. Specictravel datesapply. LIC NO: QLD 2TA6026, WA9TA1452, VIC 32835, NSW3238685, ACT 18800670.

THERE IS MORE TONEPAL THAN EVEREST

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Nepal

EXPERIENCEEXTRAORDINARY

#56 lISSUE #37 i kw The frst motorcycle was developed by German engineer Gottlieb Daimler in 1885.

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The Mountain Motorcycle Diaries