The sun burns brightly, scorching us with a UV intensity you only get at 12,000 feet above sea level. Towering granite mountains mix in the middle distance with stark, snow-capped Himalayan peaks.
As the cameraman sets up his equipment, four of us chat idly, and event organiser Simon squats frog-like on a huge rock perilously close to the cliff's edge. I decide to bypass him by stepping onto the rock's angled
surface in an effort to get past. As I do so, my right foot slips and in one awful second, I realise I'm going over the edge. I grab in vain at some foliage, and then the world goes into slow-motion as I pitch, headfirst,
off a cliff. "Oh, shit..."
The market for two-wheeled adventure has gone off the scale of late. Well-heeled riders are looking for lumps of solid motorcycling exploration and companies like Enduro Himalaya serve it up on a plate. Raise the £3000 fee and you're on the trip of a lifetime. A percentage of the money goes to charity, you get a ride you'll never forget, and everyone's a winner. But what Enduro do better than most is balance hard riding with a waft of danger, backed up by organisation and medical staff that are second to none.
Starting out in Dehli, our first two days are spent edging closer towards the Himalayan foothills and serve to remind you how different it is riding a bike around here. Chaotic small towns, overturned trucks, shit-throwing monkeys and the bloated corpses of dead cows litter the roadside. And rubbish, lots of rubbish. In India, the trash bin is a mythical concept that hasn't yet made it to the common populace.
The second evening is spent in an exquisite Tibetan monastery in the tiny town of Sarahan. The transition from Indian plains to Himalayan region is marked. The roads change as well, the mountain passes from Sarahan to Sangla are spectacular, but the roads were cut through solid granite with dynamite and blood, and there is no Armco to keep you from going over the edge.
We pass through the valleys beneath the soaring 20,000-foot peak of Kinnaur Kailash, and that night get eyeball-wateringly stoned on powerful weed and local moonshine. Staying the night in a campsite in the Himalayas makes you feel 18 years old again, while the steady roar of a waterfall and snow-covered peaks on either side let you know you're camping for real. Washday the following morning was courtesy of the local stream, fed directly by the melting ice high above. Nothing will wake you up faster, guaranteed.
Continue Enduro Himalaya
