Himalayan Adventure

Exploring the Mountains on a Royal Enfield

Ian Hadcocks

Riding a Royal Enfield in India has always been on my bucket list. My lovely wife buying me a Himalayan for my 60^th birthday only confirmed that they are a hoot to ride and are far more capable than the spec sheet would suggest.

In May, a recommendation from a friend led me to contact Ride Expeditions with a view to a trip in 2025. It quickly became apparent that these holidays are incredibly popular; 2025 was sold out, but they had a cancellation for three people in July this year, on the Himalayan Escape tour, about six weeks away, eek.

Another friend had shown an interest in attending and then my daughter Louise saw the website and asked if she could ride pillion; looked like it was destined to be. Deposit paid, holiday on.

At this point we realised that there was quite a lot of preparation needed and very little time. Suitable riding kit for Louise, suitable riding kit for my mate, also Ian, who is a road rider in temperate England and so had nothing remotely suitable for off roading in India, flights, vaccinations, pills for absolutely every eventuality and the mountain that is Indian bureaucracy.

Six stressful weeks later we are on a plane to New Delhi with an onward connection to Leh, capital of the Ladakh region in the Himalayas. On the advice of friends, we had arrived a day early to acclimatise to the altitude, over 11000ft, somewhat higher than my previous personal best of Ben Nevis. This proved to be excellent advice. The hotel, The Druk, was lovely, but even climbing the stairs left us doubled up and wheezing like 60 a day smokers. Lots of other various unpleasant side effects were discussed over breakfast the next morning, but none that need expanding upon here.

During the day the other members of the group arrived, all from the UK, apart from a couple from Adelaide, ardent Harley people. This was likely to be a bit of a culture shock for them. Louise was the only pillion. Everyone got to know each other over a few beers at the introductory lunch. The afternoon was spent exploring Leh, a fascinating and vibrant place. Most of us ended up in a bar watching the traffic and trying to work out how the heck we would cope!

Day two introduced us to our motorbikes, 14 beautifully clean, newish Scrams. The first of our daily briefings by our South African tour leader Danie explained how the tour worked. We were led by a local, Nono, there would be two sweeper riders at the back of the group including Danie and right at the back, the support bus with fuel, spares, drinks, snacks and the opportunity to sit in a comfy seat if it was all getting too much. It was stressed that we should all ride at our own pace and could stop for pictures, rests etc whenever we wished. The tail riders and the bus would always stay at the back.

With that, it was off into the traffic of Leh and a very steep learning curve. Roads in town were narrow, bumpy, potholed and covered in dogs, cows, cowsh, and waving, happy, green cross code ignorant children. THE most important thing to remember is that the horn is king; use it continually and listen for it. Horns seem to make the locals invincible, so that overtake on the car that’s overtaking a truck, that's overtaking a cow is definitely on, even with a lorry overtaking fourteen nervous tourists on shiny Scrams coming the other way. It’s a real shock to the system. Keeping your vision up, anticipation and all that stuff that you may have half listened to when studying for you green badge, suddenly becomes absolutely a matter of life and death. Overtaking on blind bends and driving on the “wrong” side of the road seems mandatory.

Fortunately we survived the initiation and were soon clear of the town and into the countryside. This area is close to China and Tibet, so the military presence is massive, everyone aggressively camera shy. It is thanks to the Indian Army that we were presented with beautifully surfaced roads and cambered, grippy bends that went on for miles up into the mountains. The scenery was stunning and we gained altitude rapidly as we followed the river Indus into the Himalayas. Lunch was taken at a monastery in the mountains, en route to our overnight hotel at Lamayuru. On arrival after about 100 miles of beautiful roads, we established the habit of a “Boots Beer” a de-stressing tin as soon as we had finished riding for the day. Everyone was really happy, trying to remember and share the sights and experiences we’d had on our first day. Fantastic!

The next day was more of the same, beautifully surfaced roads and hairpins all the way back to Leh for the night. The roads were at least as much fun as the Alpine passes with which you may be familiar. Standards of driving less so; even the other motorcyclists, inevitably Enfield mounted, they really are a religion in India, seemed to consider themselves immortal!

Day three was the start of the adventure proper. More well surfaced roads towards the second highest pass that we would cross; ChangLa at 17,664ft. This involved a number of army checkpoints as well as multiple crossings of the Indus. All the bridges festooned with Buddhist prayer flags.

ChangLa is home to the world’s highest research station. It really was quite difficult to breath at this height, the 100ft walk to the summit marker reduced us to breathless wrecks, but the views were brilliant, the toilets were not.

Our accommodation for the night were Yurts, with all mod cons, on the banks of lake Pangong Tso. This is the world’s highest salt water lake, brilliant blue in colour and two thirds in Tibet, hence the heavy military presence. It was also our introduction to river crossings; lots of ice-cold glacier melt water crossing the road in 20ft wide troughs. Great fun, if cold. Those who could (most) stood up and did their best motocross hero impressions as they splashed through, Danie standing by with the camera to record any mishaps so that we could all sympathise, sorry, laugh over the boots beers later. Louise and I didn't have the option to stand up but got through anyway, greatly assisted by the ever-helpful support crew fitting a backrest for Louise overnight.

Next morning was an early start for our longest and most challenging day. This was mostly off road; at best unsealed gravel roads, with long stretches of proper off road. Numerous river crossings as well as driving along rivers for a couple of hundred yards at a time. The scenery was breathtaking and the riding fantastic, if challenging. There were falls for some on the river crossings, mostly resulting in mickey taking and laughter, although one of our number had a proper fall. He carried on only to discover, when home in the UK, that he’d broken his collarbone! So he’d managed two days riding with it. Proper hero!

I asked Louise to get off only twice during the day. The first at an unscheduled river crossing where the Indus had broken its banks and washed the road away. The river was incredibly fast flowing, the road submerged for a distance of about 200yds. We couldn’t see the bottom through the raging torrent, so we did the proper thing and waded in. It seemed that the road surface was probably intact, but I wasn’t chancing it with my little girl on the back, so into the support truck she went. She said that the truck crossing was pretty hair raising in itself! The second time was a section of deep sand. I hate sand. I’m reduced to flailing about with hands and feet, holding on for grim death with little or no control. My ego wasn’t up to my daughter witnessing that, so back in the bus please.

After an exhausting but utterly brilliant day we arrived for boots beers at an eco hotel. Fantastic glamping tents, brilliant food in beautiful surroundings and the chance to make complete fools of ourselves by joining in the local folk dancing! Top day. Last day on the bikes and it’s The Big One. Unmade roads up to the summit of the KhardungLa Pass, reputed to be the highest motorable road in the world. 17982ft. The road is mostly unmade, large potholes and rocks all over the place. Because of the altitude, the Mighty Scram has lost most of its already limited power. I think we were down to Fizzie levels of bhp, ideal for accentuating the chasm between first and second gears, something which was repeatedly illustrated when trying to overtake a massively overloaded 1980s Suzuki Alto and a bus lumbering towards us.

Because of its fame, it’s also incredibly busy; buses, lorries, completely unsuitable cars, not to mention dozens and dozens of other Enfield's all heading to and from the summit. Overtaking, undertaking hooting or driving straight at whatever is getting in their way.
On one side a sheer rock face, on the other, not quite wide enough for two vehicles to pass, a dizzying drop into eternity.

 
 
No crash barriers or kerbs just helpful signs “better be late than the late” and utterly destroyed trucks and buses placed on brick plinths as a warning. Just to stop one getting bored, the BROs, Border Roads Organisation are busy trying to upgrade. This involves blocking the whole road with diggers and tippers for about 20 minutes at a time whilst they tear large lumps out of the mountainside. The cracks in the rock above one of the diggers were tempting us all to take our chances by jumping. The subsequent squeezing behind the digger on a foot wide strip of rubble between us and oblivion seemed positively attractive.
 
Happily, we all reached the summit physically intact, mentally, I’m not so sure! The views, above the snowline, surrounded by glaciers, were epic. Photos duly taken and after a lie down while gasping for oxygen, we staggered back to the bikes to make our way back to Leh.

 
 
 
 
 
 

After that it was all, literally, downhill. A last group meal, lots of drink and congratulations before we all went our separate ways. We’d all got along, ridden amazing roads, seen some incredible sights and eaten lovely food. A fantastic group of new friends on the trip of a lifetime. Can’t recommend it enough.