Operation Tashi Delek

  Operation Tashi Delek

Tezpur to Tawang by bicycle - an unreport

Western Arunachal Pradesh, INDIA

Tashi Delek – We’ll leave the explanation to Tibetan scholars (which we certainly aren’t) and Wikipedia. Suffice to say it sounds nice and elicits a cheerful response in return.

Cast of characters:

Agent K

AgK doing a 'Wilson'

Rohit Kulkarni (alias AgK – short for Agent K): I first met him when he was eight years old at a nature camp. Since then he’s held flashes for me while photographing creepies (sometimes in the rain, under an umbrella in the dark); been Joint-CEO of two of our now defunct start-ups - Money Up Front Photography and Get Lost Adventures; co-judged a fashion show in Miao, Arunachal Pradesh; interned at National Geographic Channel, worked at FM radio stations, MTV and UTV, after which he’s currently taken a possibly permanent sabbatical from the corporate world to become a successful potter. Initially steadfast in his resolve not to join me in madcap schemes, “Caps, I’ve built enough bloody character to last a lifetime! Absolutely not! No (expletive deleted) chance!” he usually succumbs to his inner weakness for (mis-) adventure and he’s back on one of our ‘ops’.

VM

Snowflakey

Viral Mistry (yep, really his real name; henceforth referred to as VM): one time amateur power-lifter, wannabe rock-climber, currently heads an engineering firm and has a compulsive desire to point out hydraulic devices in everyday life. Also more sensibly – is married to a qualified wildlife researcher, has a young son and a über-cool Siberian cat. VM has the dubious distinction of standing with one leg on a windowsill, propped up by his field assistant whilst hanging onto the tail of an unidentified snake that was trying to escape into the false ceiling. Ten minutes of this unorthodox manoeuvre resulted in the snake reversing and the first images of a live Dinodon gammei (Sikkim False Wolf Snake) in the world. Enjoys eating, cycling and messing around with bicycles.

‘J’ Indian Army. Details intentionally vague in the interests of National in-Security. Still cycles.

Caps

Who needs EPO?

Caps – short for Captain: not a rank, and yep really my surname, incapable of taking life seriously and just plain nuts.

Note: distances are approximate at best. Kilometer stones often disagreed with one another (possibly to confuse the Chinese) and VM’s smartphone and ‘Strava’* would often behave just plain dumb. Hence we focused on eating momos and reaching our next halt. *Explanation for non-cyclists – it’s the cycling app.

We have to thank the Indian Army for all their help; again details intentionally vague. Thank you all!

How the trip came about:

                ‘J’ told me he was posted to Arunachal Pradesh and invited me to visit. I’d spent a fair bit of time traipsing around the eastern side of the state looking for snakes and was in love with the place, its people and food. ‘Once upon a time’, ‘J’ and I had  cycled to Vaishno Devi (yep, we took our bikes all the way up, and yep, we carried them up certain sections); later I’d cycled from Pune to Chennai for his wedding. So it seemed obvious that bicycles would be a part of the equation.

            I’d asked a few good friends if they wanted to come along. They’d enthusiastically agreed, however due to life responsibilities, only the irresponsible ones finally made it – AgK, VM and I.

            In a turbulent lead-up to the trip, I’d fallen off the cycle, banged my knee and been told by a super doctor who taped it up, “Absolutely no cycling.” A week later he changed his mind (which is why I said he’s super) and I was back on the bike. As if this wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the car VM’s folks were driving in got rear-ended a few days before we left. Since they escaped unscathed, VM didn’t cancel his trip.

            We’d decided to fly with our cycles instead of sending them ahead by surface transport. Expensive, but we’ve always planned for the worst-case scenario and there was no point being on a cycling expedition without bicycles.

            I’d also taken along a fair amount of spares and bike tools that weren’t exactly light. This annoyed the living daylights out of AgK who due to our ‘travel light’ credo wasn’t allowed to bring along his only blazer – essential he thought, since we were guests of the Indian Army.

Day 1. Pune - Kolkata – Guwahati

November 19^th

            Taking off from Pune, we changed flights at Kolkata and reached Guwahati at around lunchtime. We found our hired vehicle and secured our bike bags to the roof (with two independent ropes for redundancy). After doing so, we discovered the thing wouldn’t start. AgK (seasoned veteran of ‘Cars That Refuse to Start’ – mostly his own jeep) diagnosed the problem as air in the fuel line. True or not, we finally managed to start the beast. A quick lunch and we drove to Tezpur. It was around 1930 by the time we reached our accommodation; really late given it’s pitch dark in the northeast by 1730. We wolfed down dinner, spent a good two hours assembling the bikes and then fell sleep with head torches on our heads.

Day 2. Tezpur (Assam) – Sessa (Arunachal Pradesh)

November 20^th

Approximately 90km (70-ish flat, 20-ish with climbs); 9hrs         

            We set off at 0530 (broad daylight in this part of India) after tea, pausing only to check with a few morning walkers that we were aimed in the right direction.

            “Watch out for elephants”, warned VM as we pedalled down a mostly flat road. He’d worked on the herpetofauna (frogs, their relatives, snakes, lizards) and knew the area well. While we kept a lookout for pachyderms, the Army R.O.P. (Road Opening Party) kept watch for folks inclined to blow up the army convoy (that was to pass later).

They looked like they meant business, which was good, ‘cause it wouldn’t do to have someone take a pot shot at AgK – our 'ceramicist' cum publicist, who was travelling with the convoy.

            To add more drama, despite several e-mails clearly stating our travel dates, the I.L.P. (Inner Line Permit) issued to us had expired two days before our trip had even started!

               At Bhalukpong – the border between Assam and this part of Arunachal Pradesh – we flashed our ‘date fail’ I.L.P., smiled, ate two bananas each and confidently pedalled through. The climbing had begun.

            A little later AgK drove past, pausing briefly to check if we were fine, before going on to sort out our accommodation at Sessa.
         As soon as we entered Arunachal Pradesh, the terrain changed dramatically. Mountains covered by forests surrounded us. The canopy was a myriad of green, yellow and orange. Occasionally we saw wild banana leaves or bamboo stuck into the hillside from which a non-stop stream of water gushed.

Look ma, no shocks

VM admiring his love bites

            We finally reached Sessa at 1430 for a late lunch. While we managed to negotiate the steep inclines without dismounting, AgK had considerably less success in convincing people about how he made a living. His impassioned explanation of being a full time potter was dismissed with a terse “Kuchh bhi”!

            The night at Sessa was cold. Very cold.

I prefer a sac to panniers; the pump is as light as a mini and actually fills fat tyres

Rubberised bar-ends keep fingers a bit warmer

'Fiber' cages don't mark bottles. This one has been tested on several mountain 'roads'

A rather expensive saddle bag, but it did its job brilliantly

Day 3. Sessa (Arunachal Pradesh) - Tenga (Arunachal Pradesh)

November 21^st

Approximately 60 km (mostly climbs, but with some descents); 5hrs

            Post parathas for breakfast at 0500, we started out towards our next destination – Tenga. A disinterested AgK waved us off and went back to devour what was left of brekker. He was due to leave an hour later, so we’d have a suitable head start over the chase car.

            After Sessa we climbed up to N’chephu aka Zero Point – the ascent was reasonably steep and when we were told by the locals that there was a fair bit of downhill a short distance ahead, our relief resulted in us stopping instantly for tea and potato crisps.

            Slowing only to ensure that the bikes were fine, AgK breezed past, not quite caring for the riders. A strapping young officer had warned him at Sessa about there being “no respite at all” till Bomdila – a small detail that he conveniently omitted to mention until we reached Bomdila.

VM has a thing for rocks

Always wear a helmet

            The road was a random mix of ups, downs and certain sections where the road simply didn’t exist. We pedalled resolutely past these; AgK had an uneventful drive to Tenga. The accommodation delighted his once-upon-a-time-ridiculously-highly-paid-executive heart – the bathroom had a programmable shower flanked by two plush bathrobes. His joy was short-lived as we insisted on moving to more austere quarters; this one seemed way too luxurious. AgK never one for building character, wasn’t too happy. After shifting to rooms with loos that didn’t require a college degree, we embarked on cycle repairs that kept us busy for rest of the evening.

            The rear derailleur (gear mechanism) on VM’s bike was misbehaving and we replaced the inner cable with a slicker new one. VM quickly learnt how many people it takes to mess up any repair effectively – more than one is one too many. After running out of subjects to Instagram, AgK decided to test-ride the bike and expertly proclaimed “Ouch!” His comment alluded to VM’s saddle being a pain in the _ ss (obvious portion of one's anatomy). Nothing could be done about it, so I suggested VM wear two pairs of cycling shorts, which helped a bit. Dinner was scheduled with ‘J’. AgK presented him with a sake bottle and cups made by Curators of Clay. What lingers in the memory of that day is a delicious dessert laced with vodka made by Mrs. ‘J’.

Day 4. Tenga - Bomdila

November 22^nd

Approximately 35 km (mostly climbs with a few downhill sections); 5 hrs

Six, count 'em, six layers

            After a continental breakfast, we set off for Bomdila at the usual crack of dawn. It was fairly cold and I started off with six upper layers that were peeled off as the day warmed up. From experience I knew that blowing one’s nose with full-finger gloves would result in skin loss, so I resorted to launching snot rockets – a technique frequently employed by bike racers worldwide. I shan’t attempt to explain. There’re plenty of information on the net illustrating the technique.

            Our stay at Bomdila was at the highest point in the vicinity. Guess it was supposed to be strategic – the advantage of height over the enemy etc. The strategy certainly is highly effective, after attempting to pedal up some near vertical gradients, we gave up and pushed the bikes up a track, to collapse outside ridiculously comfortable rooms allotted to us. AgK was already there, looking mutinous in case we decided to move to even marginally less comfortable accommodation. It was Sunday and we pigged out on dosas stuffed with chicken. AgK did a photo-shoot with VM – some Bollywood poses beside his bike, a la SRK. These were promptly WhatsApp-ed to VM’s wife as proof that he was actually cycling in Arunachal. 

Smell my armpits

After this we cleaned, checked and lubed both bikes. Daily checks included making sure nothing had vibrated loose, there were no broken spokes, wheels were more-or-less true and that the brake pads weren’t worn out. Contrary to the popular trend of riding with low tyre pressures, we’d pumped them up as hard as was safe in an attempt to minimize ‘pinch’ punctures. It worked. We had no flats at all, just several eyeball-rattling descents.

            In the evening we attended the Bomdila Festival 2015. It was a grand event. A popular local politician was welcomed with around fifteen minutes of spectacular fireworks. Folks had come from afar, some to participate in the cultural dances, some to sell their wares and some to just partake in the festivities. AgK bought about 1.5 kg of ripe-gotta-eat-'em-now kiwi fruit for the princely sum of 80 rupees from Norbo Shimrozu of Sashipaam, who proudly told us that he’d grown them. His basti was a four-hour walk from Nafra! After this, there ensued, to quote AgK, “a kiwi fruit carnage”. 

Norbo Shimrozu shows off the kiwi fruit he grew

           We also ate smoked pork; smoked mithun and bamboo shoot to ensure no major food groups were left out. Somewhere between the fruit and fauna we watched local dances. The performers’ costumes and masks were stunning. Monpas, Nyishis, Sherdukpens and possibly Buguns were on stage (at different times). There were two gents in a giant yak costume. A young lad rendered a spirited version of ‘Yeh shaam mastani’ and ‘Chittiyan kalaiyan’ was played twice – ample proof of Bollywood’s musical invasion – one that gladdened the Mumbaikars in AgK and VM. The ultimate party animal (me) dragged my two accomplices back to our digs as we had an early morning ahead. The night was so cold that at some point, AgK dragged his bed (cot, mattress and all) into our room, as we had a heater that was safe to leave on while we slept. That boy needs considerable work on building character!

Day 5. Bomdila – Nyukmadong/ Nyukmadung

November 23^rd

Approximately 65km; 7hrs

            We cycled off with our backs toward a dark apocalyptic sunrise which, purely figuratively, warmed the cockles of my black heart. 

Building character before sunrise

Sunrise with bicycles

Definitely worth braving the cold

            After climbing a considerable distance there was a long and very welcome descent. Several villages were scattered along this section. We stopped at a shop where an old gentleman was stitching a suit made of machine-woven yak wool from Bhutan. He paused to sell us litchi juice and packaged potato crisps, which were eaten immediately. Suitably fortified, we reached the Nyukmadong War Memorial to find an unusually somber AgK. A beautiful memorial marks the spot where over a thousand Indian soldiers died in the ‘62 war. AgK spent a quiet moment paying our collective respects to the dead while we continued riding upwards and onwards to our accommodation.

Nyukmadong War Memorial

            
            It was bone-chillingly cold in the evening and we huddled up in our room discussing matters of national concern – like Chinese carbon bicycles ruining the Italian boutique bike market. The day ended befittingly with us binge-watching ‘India’s longest-running, highest-rated detective serial’ on TV – C.I.D. (source AgK).

           That and a freezing night meant we left relatively late the next morning – at 0540hrs.

Day 6. Nyukmadong/ Nyukmadung – Senge

November 24^th

Approximately 25km; 3hrs

            We did a short ride of about 25 kilometers, as we’d been ordered to acclimatize at 9,000 feet (2,743 meters) and there was no accommodation further along the route at this altitude. AgK, ever the sportsman, played a high altitude, floodlit badminton match – and he has the gall to call us nuts! Floodlight, as it was pitch dark at 1730. Needless to say he got walloped. 

            The next day was to have been even shorter – 10km to Baishakhi, but ‘J’ called and said the Army doctors advised us to keep going past Baishakhi, ride over Sela Pass and descend to Jang rather than spend another night at altitude. As we were guests of the Army, it made sense to follow orders.
             From thinking 'easy-peasy 10k', we suddenly had an approximately 80km ride that included the highest point on our ride to Tawang – Sela Pass 13,700ft (4176m). It was going to be a long, long day in and out of the saddle. That’s if the weather and our legs held up. Post lunch we replaced all the brake pads in anticipation of a long (possibly 37km) descent from Sela Pass. Whatever was that “no respite” all about?

Day 7. Senge - Baishakhi – Sela - Jang

November 25^th

Approximately 80km; 10hrs

            Another 0530 start. We set a really steady pace and were lucky with the weather. On one incline, I saw a message written in tar on the road. Someone (perhaps a lady working on road repairs) had inscribed in tar, “I miss you Lobsang.” It touched me deeply. Years of building character and eating ‘lye patta' and rice stood me in good stead . . . almost. I sniffed, mentally wished her the best, best vibes and continued climbing, hoping she’d find someone to fill the missing space. With bicycles, it’s easier to fix breaks, one just bolts on a new part.

The kilometer stone says it all

Mugshots (literally) at Sela



Feet of (Curators of) Clay



AgK saw and photographed his first yak

            
            As we neared the pass, the last few kms were shrouded in mist. Several ‘SUV Tourist’ cars crossed us and the drivers waved, cheering us on. We’d met them at the Bomdila Festival and it was nice to see fellow lunatics en-route.

            Incredibly, at the pass we had a spell of magical sunshine, and as we stopped to give thanks and take pictures, AgK found a little kitten, which he carried off the road and put near an Army post. ‘J’ drove up, we had tea at Sela pass itself – a happy coincidence, and he sped off.           

            A not-so-brief aside – reasonably reliable legend has it that Sela and Nura were two local ladies who helped Jaswant (Indian Army) hold off a heap of invaders, back in the early ‘60s. It’s very cool that one of ‘em is honored forever by naming the pass after her. There is also a place called Nura/ Nuranag, further down. Ladies, you rock!

We got snow (and fortunately sunshine) on the Sela descent

            
            We free-wheeled down the pass and rode smack bang into a series of brilliantly executed food-ambushes. ‘J’ had ordered every Army detachment/ unit/ soldier between Sela and Tawang to stop and force feed us. They followed orders. VM exhibited exemplary form and managed to tuck into several hot pakodas with gusto. “It really hit the spot, I could’ve finished the entire casserole.” AgK had eaten kadi and rice at an earlier ambush (which we escaped) and gave up after eating just one. We were stuffed and rolled down the entire way to Jang burping. There was snow on the roadside and we paused to add layers of warm clothing. We stopped to photograph our bikes in the snow and AgK molesting icicles. A herd of yaks stampeded, startled by the noiseless, wheeled animals which rolled past. The descent was dusty and cold. Despite road signs proclaiming smooth roads, they certainly were not!

You think Pune roads suck?

A relatively decent section

Day 8. Jang – Tawang (at last)!

November 26^th

Approximately 36km; 6hrs including the paratha and espresso ambushes

            We started later than usual and ran into two more food-ambushes. This time we were prepared, and AgK and I gave VM a run for his appetite. Tea, beaten coffee – sprinkled with drinking chocolate, eggs, toast, jam and alu parathas with dahi. All of this was rapidly vacuumed. VM and I pedaled on to what we thought would be a triumphant entry into Tawang. It might’ve been, except for the fact that ‘D’ – the gent who drove AgK, decided that as VM and I had cycled up Sela, we had the legs to ride up the shortcut. A combined assault of the food-ambushes and positively insane gradients ensured that we did no such thing.  Once again we were reduced to pushing our bikes up (one of the many) stairways to heaven. We arrived breathless at the War Memorial. VM had enough of this and entrusted his bike to AgK, who hauled it up the rest of the way to our rooms. A cup of tea and a bath later, we were wondering what to do next as the entire adventure had come to an (at least so it seemed then) anti-climatic end.

Snow Lion

Tawang War Memorial

            No chance! The Indian Army had other plans in store for us – as in keep the troops occupied. We had lunch and carefully cleaned and packed our bicycles. Immediately after this we were dispatched on tours of the Tawang Monastery, War Memorial and later in the evening saw the Sound and Light Show, warmed with cups of steaming hot soup. Had dinner with ‘J’ and talked about bicycles and bike races.

            Thankfully the Gods had held off blessing us with inclement weather till we reached Tawang. A few hours after we slept, it rained and then snowed.

Day 9. Tawang – Bumla and Lake Shungetsar (not quite)

November 27^th

No cycling day

            My initial plans to WD40 the packed bikes (again) were ruthlessly nuked by an overwhelming majority  – ‘J’, AgK and VM. Instead they proposed we go to Bumla and Lake Shungetsar. So we set off. Fresh snowfall had made the road impossible to negotiate without snow chains. We returned to Tawang in search of momos. Returning to our digs, I got back to 'WD40-ing' and the smart phone boys got back to '4G-ing' their pictures and posts to the rest of the world. In the evening we waited till the Tricolour was lowered at the War Memorial, then headed back to food and sleep.

Frozen stream

AgK demonstrates how to milk an icicle

Day 10. Tawang –Tenga

November 28^th

No cycling day

            Woke early and went back to the War Memorial to see the Tricolour being hoisted at 0530. It was cold, dark and extremely moving. Had brekker and left for Tenga.

            Stopped at Jaswantgarh to wolf down a second breakfast of hot parathas and dahi. When asked, “Yeh thandi mein dahi jamta hain?” our host proudly retorted, “Jat fauj hain sir-ji, dahi kahin bhi jama lenge!”

It snowed heavily after we'd reached Tawang

            
            Sela Pass was snow bound and we got stuck for a while. VM promptly got out to photograph frost-rimmed prayer flags overlooking Sela Lake and a frozen bush. I dragged him back into the car after watching his artistic endeavors for a bit.

Frozen bush at Sela Lake

Frozen prayer flags at Sela Lake

            
            Had an un-balanced, probably gluten-laden lunch of jalebis, samosas, momos and bread pakodas, which were washed down by saunf-laced tea. Reached Tenga in the afternoon. Had tea and transplanted some parts onto ‘J’s bicycle. VM aired his biking clothes in our room. Having built considerable character over the years, I chose to ‘wear and air’ mine instead.

Day 11. Sunday in Tenga

November 29^th

No cycling day

Tamasha in Tenga

            VM and I rose at 0500 and went for a walk. AgK stayed in bed, ostensibly power napping, until VM 'WhatsApp-ed' him an image of a Tamasha movie poster. This galvanized the sleeping giant, who rushed us through breakfast and some ‘brown chocolate’ shopping – which VM insisted his depleted blood sugar levels needed after all the cycling we'd done. We walked to a theater and made it for the 1100 show. A Bollywood movie in Tenga! Had Sunday lunch with ‘J’ followed by an early dinner and turned in.

On-screen smooch capture

Day 12. Tenga - Guwahati

November 30^th

No cycling day

                  Left early for Guwahati. Arrived and did nothing significant. Went for a walk in the evening, watched TV. Basically waited for our flights home the next morning.

Luggage minus bike bags

Day 13. Guwahati – Kolkata – Pune

December 1^st

No cycling day

            Left for the airport. Checked in luggage to Kolkata. Hung around at Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose International Airport till our flight back to Pune. 
            [Parsimonious tip: if one has to change flights/ airports, make sure you get a single PNR number and book the bicycles through till the end. This way one pays excess luggage only once.]

Day 14. Pune

December 2^nd

No cycling day       

            Early next morning I was up and out on a two-hour walk-run as prep for a long run. I passed a few barking dogs, absently waved my carbon-fiber dog deterrent (a broken trekking pole), and was already thinking about returning to Arunachal Pradesh. Tashi Delek and Jai Hind!

We'll be back . . . 

Un-report by: Ashok Captain, Rohit Kulkarni, Viral Mistry and ‘J’

The end