Royal enfield 'bullet'

The big bomber

For those of you who are not familiar with the Enfield motorbike
I can tell you it's one of India's most endearing road features.
Gifted to the Indians by the british this wonderbike can be
hjeard up and downt the land blasting its sound, something
between a helicopter and a tractor.

Well yesterday was my turn to be free on this mechanical beauty.

My guest houyse owner took my word when I said I was going to
rent a bike and immediately offered me one of his three. He took
me over to his front drive and gave me the oldest meanest looking
motherfucker that you have ever seen. This thing had to be the
chain smocker of all enfields. It looked like it had been set upon by
several drunk rednecks with basball bats.

He started her up and then gave me a go. It was a no go for me.
These babies are much different to your normal back and the
gearing was all lose and old. Five times later I had it going only to
get to the gate and let her stall again. Not bothered I let in the clutch and
drifted down the hill and began my odyssey. For five minutes before it konked again.
I had a whole family watch me as I wrested to get it into neutral.
Ten mins of messing around burning hands and tired legs and I moved
it off onto the mad roads of manali.

Few folk can ever have felt the freedom of the unadulterated road
on an enfield. The traffic was mad for the first few miles. My sphincter had
a very good work out trying to undserstand what to do as two trucks overtook on
a blind hairpin as I was coming around the turn. Not to mention the cows,chickens
children,goats and all manner of farmhouse attire. There's notrhing quite like shitting yourslef
a the sight of a cow slowly blocking your way as you try and hammer on all breaks and force the bike through a 2 foot gap.

Soon enough I was out of the city and away up higher into the thin air that rims the valley.
Truly free, hair blowing, ebgine blaring and my smile bigger than the empire state I found
it completely exhilirating to be back in tyhe saddle after a 4 year break. The last time
I had been in Nepal with a piece of shit yamaha where as now I was on a big
boy blating through the passes.

I stopped along the way for drinks and often to get the gears working again as
they were old and alittle lose to say the least. It was a little like a lucky dip trying tofind neutral again!! But the road called away into the distance and I followed beaming along.

I eventually got to a small viallge called naggar which has a castle on the top that has been renevated. I parked at the bottom and walked up the steep slopes to a fantastic wooden place on the hill. Behind it I walked through a small town that was seeing swift development.

I looked up and there on a balcony was a smiling face asking me what I was looking for.
Within minutes I was up talking to him about renting houses and trekking in the
high passes that surround the kullu valley. Sadly he had lost his father ten days before so
we sat and talked about life and the transient nature of it all for some time.
It was a very moving time and we shared some of our experiences before I took off and
drove back up the valley.

I stopped at a strange shop that managed to catch my eye as it sold /down home made
mountaneering equipment. AS I walked in the owner came from nowhere and started teling me of his times with the world's great climbers,(he also had pictures to show me of them!) WE sat and chatted for a while about the changing valley and the face of climbing today. Nice, relaxed and comfortable.

Tehn it was on and oof back to my home village for the evening movie and meal.
I was flying and the sun still shinning had burnt me as I flew through the cool
waterfall air before I began the steep ascent upto vashisht.

With less than 200 meteres to go I thought I had done it
with hardly a gear missplaced. Then as I came round the lst corner a huge cow
had decided to blockj the road! I pulled up stalled and it took me ten mintues
to get the beast back on the road. Yes that cow had beaten me and taught me a vital lesson.
always watch out for cows on blind hairpin bends in india. I wonder how many bikers have been
caught out by that one.


hmmmm

Bo