Episode 265 : The Devbhoomi Experience- Part 14

The group suffers a dropout- Muthu has to return for some work. Zim begins to feel feverish in the night and tells me he might also stay back.

Day 14: October 13, 2008

I wake up the following morning at a little after 7. I feel fine and then panic for an instant- Have the boys left already?

I look around and see Tiger's boots and jacket in a corner. The motorcycle that I heard starting must have been Muthu's. As if to prove me right, Tiger walks in.

'I am joining you guys' I said.

'Excellent! Muthu just left and we'll start in 30 minutes'.

Zim shuffles into the room a few minutes later. 'You are going to Gangotri?' he asks.

'Yeah, I feel fine now' I say.

'I am not well, I have a fever.'

'I knew that last night itself' I almost say, but catch myself just in time and instead say 'You told me that last night itself'.

I am convinced Zim's "high altitude sickness" is the cause for his sudden fever.

So it is just the four of us to Gangotri- Srini, Tiger, Ron and I.

The road to Gangotri goes through many small villages. The sun begins to shine down upon us by the time we stop for breakfast. We are tempted to remove our woollen clothing, but reason tells us to bear the heat till we finish eating.

To save myself from a repeat fever, I had wrapped the hand-woven shawl around my neck. It makes my slouch more prominent and the helmet rests at an awkward angle. The things I have to do to make sure I go on a ride and yet remain well!

The road gets worse as we begin climbing. The Border Roads Organisation, or BRO as they are called, are at work in many places. Bike and back begin to complain. I wonder if the motorcycle's shock absorbers will last the strain. However, the road gets better once we near Gangotri.

Gangotri is only a little more than a 100 kilometres from Uttarkashi. But it takes us half a day to reach there.

We look for a place to park our motorcycles. It looks like a long walk for us to the temple, and with protective gear on it is quite an effort. The road ends in a footpath but the locals prompt to keep moving. It appears that tourists on motorcycles have gone up to the temple before. So why should we do anything different?

The footpath goes through the local market which is narrow for an Enfield. Shopkeepers look on as we deftly manoeuvre our way to the temple. We get a little space right outside the temple to park and leaving our footwear behind we enter the premise.

Gangotri is actually another 16 kilometres or so away- a job for trekkers. I hear the sound of running water and realise it is the river! We take a few "I was there" photographs and get back to our motorcycles.

Taking a motorcycle to the temple is one thing. Turning it around in that narrow footpath is some thing else. We enter a dhaba in the market and have lunch. The food laid out by the entrance is tempting, but we stick to our usual fare.

61007 @ Gangotri

I suggest stopping by the river on our way back. I had spotted a path to the waters near an army camp. Taking the lead, I point the way when we get there. We take the motorcycles all the way to the edge, but not too close! All of us indulge in taking photographs of us, the mountains, the river and all of them together. I take a few photographs and then walk to the river. The river has a decent current, but not enough to sweep anyone away. I put my hand in the water, and savour the feeling of cold water running through my fingers.

For all my claims at being agnostic, coming to a land like this makes me wonder. The faith that the local people have in the religion is unshakable. And when you see the temples and co-relate it with what the people say, a tiny doubt creeps in. For a few moments every day I turn into a believer.

I collect a few pebbles and take it with me. I am disappointed I do not have a bottle to take back some of the water. Not once did I think that another chance would come my way. The way the universe conspires...

As we negotiate the worst stretch of the road, it begins to drizzle. It mists up my sunglasses and the helmet visor. Visibility becomes almost zero; I can only see water trickling down my helmet visor. The road is narrow; the mountain cliff is on my right and a sheer drop next to me. An Ambassador car overtakes me and I use the light from its tail lamps to guide me. The car throws up slush every time it goes into a ditch. One such time, I almost go over the edge while trying to avoid the spray of slush!

61079 @ Bhatwadi

I stop by a tea shop as the sun dips towards the horizon. I am the first to get there and so wait for the others to arrive before we get down to the business of having tea. A Bengali gentleman is travelling with his family by car and he chats up with me, asking about my travel. I tell him what we had been telling others. He takes his leave as the boys join me. For the second time we an instance of humane behaviour towards abandoned animals. This time the abandoned creature is a lamb whose mother died when it was very young. The man running the tea store now rears it and seeing the lamb frisk about for milk reminds me of Mary's little lamb.

61112 @ Uttarkashi

A journey that started at 8.30am, ended at 7.30pm! We enter the tourist home to find Zim (who had devoured 4 double omelettes and toast while we were away) ready to ride to Mussoorie the next day.

Fever, my foot!