It's Not About The Bike... Or Is It?

Let's face it, only Lance Armstrong can dare say that it's not about the bike, for the rest of us mortals it's as much about the bike or may be more than it is about us. Consider this scenario for example - I am stopped at a red signal, standing next to a Honda Civic and am drawing more attention than the car from people around me. Is it about the bike? Hell ya! Hopefully by the time you are finished reading this post you will realize what makes the bike more noticeable than a Honda.

(More photographs at: http://www.facebook.com/#!/album.php?aid=198483&id=528135688)

When I took a fall from my bicycle about a month ago or so, most of my friends asked me to be safe... when I had a close call with one of the BEST buses last week again people reminded me of safe cycling... same thing happens when I tell them that I ride on the express highways as well. The fact that I ride at night sometimes also troubles the people who care for me. These things lead people into thinking that I am not a safe rider. Quite on the contrary in fact. I consider myself among the safest cyclists in the city. Let's start from the safety equipment - I use a high quality imported Helmet to protect my head, cycling glasses to prevent my eyes not just from pollution and particles but also to increase visibility in rain, gloves to reduce the impact of handle vibrations and to prevent abrasions from a fall, professional grade knee guards and elbow guards to prevent injuries during a potential fall or a vehicle hitting me while moving too close, a powerful headlight to help me see and help others notice me at night, a flashing tail light to let other drivers see me, reflective tape on the wheel along with the regular reflectors and a reflective band on my ankles that also prevents the pants from getting tangled in the cogs. Now let's talk about riding style - first of all I consider myself as just another vehicle on the road and I follow all traffic rules. I stop at red signals, I stick to my lane, make appropriate signs while changing lanes or turning and maintaining the right speed.

I think every car driver or motorcyclist or bus driver is used to watching cyclists go at slow speeds and then change directions all of a sudden to land up on their way... and that's what they are expecting from every cyclist now so when they find someone who is actually behaving like a cyclist should, they just don't know how to react. They still honk at you from miles away even if you are two lanes apart. I think what hits the other vehicles the most is the fact that I can go pretty fast and sometimes faster than them depending on the road condition and the traffic. I have had motorcyclists and car drivers make remarks at me while overtaking, without realizing that they are barely at the same speed as me or slower if I am the one doing the overtaking.

Then there is something to be said about watchmen and security guards... I am not sure why these folks happen to not like cyclists so much. I have had trouble with them at my office parking, at Vihar Lake, at IIT Powai and so on... I would like to think that I am making the least amount of trouble for them of all people they come across but it's probably about them wanting a vent for their day to day frustration and a cyclist is probably less likely to retaliate than a car driver... size does matter after all.

The people who seem to enjoy my presence on the road the most are the street kids. They will admire all the major and minor details about the bike (whatever they can notice)... the most common ones being the gear system and the disc brakes. I have had strangers (mostly other cyclists) or kids ask me about the price of the bike or where I bought it from. The kid that works in my neighbourhood grocery store rode past me one day and asked me if I live in such and such building... every time I go out to ride at least 5-10 kids wave at me or make some funny comment... sometimes they will ask me to give them a ride... some of them would even try to tempt me to race! You look at their behaviour, compare it with the behaviour of other people and can't fail to realize that the craze for cycling is primarily limited to teenagers in India and most of us just loose respect for it as we grow up as if to say, if it doesn't run on petrol then it doesn't deserve my respect.

It's not about the bike to the extent that the fanciest of the bikes is pretty useless if it sits in the garage or at home all day. And to be able to ride consistently and over long distances in a city like Mumbai you need to make sure that the ride is not just safe but convenient also. This implies getting a ton of accessories for the bike, some of which are pretty expensive. For example, the headlight, the gloves, the lock, the helmet, the protective guards, each one of them costs more than the last bike I had (an Avon Muddy Montage during my IIT days). I can't imagine myself spending that kind of money on accessories for a barebones bike like I had before. But more than safety, more than convenience, it's the motivation that actually gets you riding... and this is where it becomes all about the bike! There is so much to look forward to when riding it... the lightweight that helps me carry it through the stairs to and from my home on the 3rd floor, the 24 gear system that makes going up the inclines a breeze and speeding past the arrogant motorcyclist or the obnoxious bus driver possible, the disc brakes that lend you confidence during the rains or at high speeds, all coming together in a beautifully designed and impeccably manufactured machine that almost seems to promise to last forever. Add to it the feel good factor of doing good to the environment, staying healthy and adding some fun to your exercise regime.

The maximum I ever rode on a bicycle in a day all my life was probably 10 kms or less. Since I got this bike 3 months ago, I have already stretched that number to 70kms and I feel I can push it beyond 100. I ride at over 50kms an hour at times, feel great about overtaking cars while doing that, enjoy the Mumbai rains more than I ever did, feel young and childish enough to want to do stunts I never tried as a kid, dream about riding down to Lonavala on a rainy day or participating in the next Mumbai Cyclothon. I have seen more corners of Mumbai on the bike in 3 months than I did otherwise in 2 years. It's making me fall in love with the city all over again.

It's definitely about the bike.

Nature's Beauty. Nature's Wrath

Photographs at picasaweb.google.com/himanshu.saraf/TrekkingInHimalayas

 

This was the 7^th day of my Himalayan trekking expedition to Sar Pass. We started off with two days of conditioning at the base camp in Kasol at 6500 ft, then climbing to the next higher camp of Guna Pani at 8000 ft, followed by Faul Pani at 9500 ft and then Zirmi at 11,000 ft on the 5^th day. Yesterday, we had set out for Tila Lotni at 12,500 ft. This was supposed to be the toughest of all camp sites with very low temperature, high probability of rain and snow and a difficult path to traverse. This however was also the camp that would lead us to our ultimate destination, the Sar Pass at 13,800 ft. On our way to Tila Lotni, we met, to our surprise, the group that had left a day ahead of us for Sar Pass and should be ideally on their way from Tila Lotni to Sar Pass. We learned from them that the weather in Tila Lotni and Sar Pass that morning was so bad that they were advised by their camp leader to drop the idea of crossing Sar Pass and return to the base camp instead. They were all heartbroken obviously for not being able to complete the trek but they were still singing and chanting slogans on their way back. They wished for us to be able to cross Sar Pass and I jokingly said that we would pass it twice, once for us and once for them!

 

We had met the guide from the other group a couple of days ago in a lower camp and I had taken a few of his photographs. So, he recognised me and started talking to me. I asked him how cold it was up there and if one jacket was enough. He told me that the sole fleece jacket I had won’t be enough for the cold weather at Sar Pass and he suggested that I take his jacket. I tried to refuse but he insisted. I still didn’t want to take his jacket with no way of returning it, so he wrote his name on the sleeve and asked me to leave it at the tea stall at the first camp after descending from Sar Pass. I had to think thrice before taking it as every gram that was added to the back pack meant I will get tired faster on my way up. As it is, my backpack was already more than twice the recommended weight due to my tripod and other camera equipment. I still took the jacket thinking it will serve as a backup in case someone in the group needs it or the weather turns really bad. Regardless, I am still amazed by the simplicity of the people that live in the mountains and the level of trust they demonstrate even in strangers… wish there were more people like him in the cities.

 

We reached Tila Lotani in the afternoon but not before encountering rain and later on hailstones on the way. Some of us were quite unprepared for the rain and I ended up lending a rain sheet that I had brought to cover my camera bag to one of the girls who didn’t have a rain jacket. There was another girl who was using her regular jacket, which was not water resistant and to make matters worse she was climbing bare footed as she found her shoes too uncomfortable. This would prove to be a mistake later on.

 

It was close to 3 pm by the time we reached our campsite. We were quickly briefed by our camp leader about our schedule. It was simple - tea at 3 pm, soup at 4, dinner at 6, sleep by 7, get up at 3 am for bed tea, 4 am breakfast and start climbing at 5 am if the weather permits. We spent a few minutes outside to soak in the beauty of nature around us and admire the scenic vistas however the cold wave hit us pretty quickly and most of us chose to stay in our tents for most part, unless we had to come out to get tea or soup or dinner. After dinner I came to know that the girl who was walking barefoot had started vomiting and needed some medical attention. She had not been eating her meals properly either. Another girl had trouble breathing and had to be administered oxygen through a cylinder. One of my tent mates started complaining of a severe headache and nausea and he later decided not to continue with the trek and go back to lower altitude instead. We went to bed by 7 pm or so hoping for clear weather the next day so that we can be allowed to traverse through Sar Pass.

 

Nature had different plans though. It snowed all night and we woke up at 4 am (the bed tea was delayed because of the snow it seems), the entire campground and the surrounding mountains as far as we could see were covered with snow. It looked stunning but we were apprehensive of our chances to climb further up. The snowfall stopped in the morning and the camp leader felt that the weather has cleared and he allowed us to climb. He however advised the two sick girls not to climb but left the choice with them if they wanted to risk their lives by joining the group. They chose to climb. Pretty brave… might not be too wise in retrospect but courageous nonetheless. So for the first time in 7 days we started trekking in snow… and what snow it was… several inches of fresh powder… had I not been on a trek I would be tempted to snowboard there! We were accompanied by two Sherpas and we were ordered to obey their instructions at all cost. One of the instructions was to walk in a single line and only put our foot in the marks of the person in front of us.

 

This was it… this is what I came for here… to me the previous 6 days were a prerequisite I had to meet to qualify for this day… trekking in fresh snow in the Himalayas, vast stretches of untouched snow in front of me, no roads, no trails, no foot prints… just a sea of snow… as far as I could see. I was ready with my camera in anticipation of sceneries I had never seen. I didn’t know what to expect but I was expecting something unexpected certainly. The climb was steep and within minutes we were sweating in the freezing weather. The sun was still rising behind us and we slowly and steadily climbed 500-600 ft when it started to snow again. We however kept on climbing, on several occasions the sherpas had to help people climb, as it was very steep or slippery. As we were going up I couldn’t fail but notice that although the sun was rising it was getting darker slowly. There was a thick cloud cover all over the sky and the sky gradually turned from blue in the east to grey and then eventually black towards the west. The whole landscape could easily be painted on a greyscale… the only colours perhaps were of or clothing and bags. The snowfall was getting heavier by the moment and it was getting windy too, resulting in a chill factor. We were starting to feel cold now, specially on the exposed body parts such as nose and lips, and for me fingers as well from operating the camera. This was the time I thanked from my heart the guide who gave me his jacket. I don’t think I could have managed without it; the weather was much severe compared to my expectations when I was planning for the trek.

 

By the time we ascended a few 100 ft more, we were staring at a snowstorm that was looking to get worse. The wind was so strong that one guy lost his rain jacket out of his hands to the wind! We had somehow made it t almost 13500 ft and were just a few hundred feet away elevation wise from Sar Pass, though distance wise it was still another 2 kms or so I think. We could see in the distance where we were heading and it was not a pretty sight… a snow covered mountain, totally eclipsed by the snowstorm and the frightening black skies… it reminded me of a scene from the movie Lord of the Rings. We were standing at the top of a wedge shaped mountain with a deep valley on one side and a slippery slope on the other side. Just the thought of a wrong step in either direction was enough to make your legs tremble for a second. The sherpas told us that the weather is bad here; it’s worse at Sar Pass and will get even worse as time progresses. All of a sudden there was a question mark on the feasibility of our expedition. Some people were suggesting we go back while others wanted to go ahead since we had already come such a long way and I agreed with them. Standing at that point, for a few minutes while the sherpas were talking to the group leader, I couldn’t stop thinking how moments like these define your true character, what you really are, what life really means to you and what you live for. Whether someone wanted to continue on the trek or go back to the camp was a manifestation of the above. There was a woman who had some family issues back home and she couldn’t be any happier if we decided to go back. Another girl who was feeling very cold and was in a very bad shape physically still wanted to go all the way. I remember her telling me a few days ago that she feels that although she is happy there is no purpose to her life… that would explain her choice. For most part, it was someone’s love, anticipation of meeting someone back home, going back to your family or the life you so cherish at home that drives you to go back from such a point. At the same time, the sense of accomplishment, an extreme liking for adventure and exploring what’s ahead of them, the desire to do what most others can’t, a sadistic pleasure derived by subjecting yourself to extreme conditions, trying to hurt yourself because you want to hurt someone else or just simple ego that they will look weak if they go back… are the primary reasons that people push themselves to keep going. I am not sure what were my reasons, I am not even sure whether I had a stronger desire to traverse Sar Pass or not to go backward but one thing was very clear in my mind – I wanted to move ahead and face that storm, irrespective of the consequences. I had thought of the worst and for some reason it didn’t bother me.

 

My chain of thought was broken by a discussion among people around me. Turned out that one girl had started feeling very cold and was finding it hard to cope up with it. Another girl, who was on oxygen previously got too scared and had started crying. We told our group leader that we want to move ahead, the group leader had a talk with the sherpas and the sherpas eventually told him that they will not recommend moving forward because of the bad weather and if the group wants to go ahead it should do so at its own responsibility. The fact that there were quite a few people in the group who weren’t well prepared for conditions like these, that some people wanted to go down anyways, and that two girls were in bad shape was enough to make the group leader take the call to go back.

 

So, within 300 ft elevation and a few kms distance of our destination we decided to go back. Most of us were dejected at not being able to achieve in theory what we came for, but for most practical purposes we had done what we set out for – experience the beauty of nature in one of the purest forms, while damaging it in the least possible way. I am not sure what the final 300ft had in store for us, but not knowing it doesn’t in the least take anything away from what we had experienced in traversing the 7000 ft till that point. If anything, nature has given me a reason to go back there and finish what I have left out this time.