October 8, 2016

I’m back. The mountains. I never want to leave. The beauty of the Himachal state feels like home and looks like Colorado in the spring. The Jammu and Kashmir state was spectacular, for sure. The true beauty of it was simply the allness and the nothingness, simultaneously. The sheer magnitude of the peaks literally took my breath away. Not seeing a person or town for days allowed me to completely lose myself. Himachal is different. There are still plenty of mountains as I am discovering. Waterfalls abound, routinely creating shallow running streams that traverse the road, and of course that same, genuine kindness that has been my India thus far.

For the second day in a row, I found myself entrenched in a gladiator-esque battle to the death, 5 hour climb up 5k vertical feet of Himachal heaven. The road continued up the mountain steadily, twisting in a serpentine manner, all along the horse shoe shaped canyon. Steep, but rideable. Challenging, yet not crippling. Lushness. Monkeys calling from the forest and scurrying across the road. There are monkeys here??? I am cycling through a dew dripping canopy of trees. The vegetation is so dense that on one side, one could stand 5 ft off the road and completely vanish…and the other side vanish into a hill side that drops off 3,000 ft to the valley floor below. Guard rails? Right. There are some. Safety is an illusion here.

The goal was 64 miles today. At 2pm, half way through my goal, I reached the small mountain top village of Bahli and stopped to refuel. Immediately I was surrounded by 7 very eager and curious local men. It was evident that they had not seen many (any?) white, solo, cyclists up here. I contemplated staying here for the night rather than down in a hot valley again. It was down hill to my destination and I would surely make it, but after last night, I wanted peace. No trucks. No dogs. No stifling heat. Nobody trying to get into my room. Just a quaint mountain top village. Here I was. The kindness, simplicity, and serenity made my decision easy.

There was not a true guest house, but there were rooms in the old government building. It was constructed of concrete and surrounded by wild flowers and dense trees with views of the valley that I had just climbed and also the one that I will descend tomorrow. My room was cavernous, with a fireplace, private bath with squat toilet and hot water, and separate prayer room. In total it must have been nearly 1000 sq ft.   For Rs550 ($8.33), how could I say no.

I took a shower, did some laundry, and began cleaning my bike in the courtyard. I looked up and was surrounded by the same 7 very inquisitive men, curious about my bike, my travels, where I’m from, where I’m going, why I’m solo, am I single, etc. Pretty much the same gauntlet in every town. Their inquiries were comical as questions came in rapid fire from all directions, people talking over one another before the prior question had even been asked let alone answered. After about 30 minutes, they lined up to shake my hand, offer warm hugs and thanked me for visiting their village.

I finished cleaning my bike and myself when one of the men yelled across the street and beckoned me to come have tea. I obliged, and also an omelet. He ended up buying my meal even though I argued with him. All the men at the table continued the rapid fire discussion of my travels, telling me precisely how far it was to each next town (17km…no 18km), whether it was good road or bad, uphill or down. Who needs a guide book?

I wandered back across the street to bring in my laundry. Another man called across to me and asked if I wanted to walk ½ km down to the temple and see the sun set over the valley? Of course! As we were walking, he asked why I do not speak Hindi? Funny…but fair question? I chuckled. I informed him I have only been here for 2 weeks but will try to learn. He began teaching me a few simple words. Clearly it will take more than a 15 minute session but I appreciated the kind gesture.

The views from the temple were captivating as the sunset created a hazy pink silhouette of the surrounding mountain peaks. We began heading back to town when he invited me to stay at his home and have dinner with his family. Apologetically, I informed him that I already had a room at the government building. Disappointedly, he bid me “Namaste” and we parted ways.

I’m filled with true gratitude and wonderment by the awe inspiring mountains and even better people of this area. There is a cool mountain breeze, blanketed by the warmth of true Indian kindness in the Himalayas. I can feel a familiar calm flow over me as I watched the sun set.   Below, I can see the faint twinkle of village lights, some 4000 ft below. A friend, who had seen a recent picture that I had posted of myself, messaged me and wrote, “You are so fucking happy!” Yes, I am…I am so fucking happy.