Category: India

Honk, If You Like Cycling In India

HONK, HOONNNNKKKK, HONK, HONK!!! I am positive, I now need hearing aids. Yep, I am sure of it.  The growing market for hearing aids for cyclists just got one bigger.  I do believe the folks here have some serious honking issues.  A unique technique of horn pushing is in use at all times here in the India Himalaya.  There is the carnival horn, the never ending can life on mars hear me honk and my personnel favorite, the 6 part medley chorus of various octaves and ear drum vibrating you deserve to be swore at honk.
 
men at work (1280x1053)
 

The special horns of India get a lot of use due to the fact that ramming into oncoming traffic seems to be the genetically engrained driving technique so often used throughout the day.  Also, the spectacularly scenic mountains roads of Kashmir and Leh are hardly wide enough for a truck and a magic bicycle therefore I am now deaf as I enter Leh, Ladak.  Good thing I am solo, cause, what’s that you say? I would not be able to hear you talking anyway.
 
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I have replaced my headscarf with a new set of hearing aids in order to continue pedaling forward into Leh.  I also have purchased a new outfit.  A sexy shiny metal body armor, a second hand military metal suit left over from the 3 wars between Pakistan and India over the Kashmir region.
 
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The irony is that the region is dotted with villagers of Muslim, Animism, Shamanism, Tibetan Buddhist and mixed religions, a spiritual salad of colorfully adorned people and glowing smiles.  The people of the gorgeous mountains are a gentle sort with the most unique driving technique I ever hope to encounter. Remarkably, I do believe I might be the only one on the road actually trying to stay alive in India. 
 
mtn cycle
 
 
Here’s The Route At A Glance-Srinagar to Leh via Kargil local Rd. 450KM (280 mi)
 
Necessary Equipment: hearing aids and a metal spandex outfit, including a tank to clear the way
 
Preparation Prior to The Trip:  Middle finger exercises, so that flipping the bird one hundred times a day at honking trucks will look graceful and natural
 
Highest Pass: The one you will have to make at the military personnel who decides to dispute your permit and say women alone on bicycles aren’t allowed down the line of control local road.  This will either be a pass or a punch depending on the size of your ear ache and acquired mood from cycling in 10 tons of metal at 3500 meters.  (And yes that’s true; some military man in a bad mood said that to me. I laughed, he eventually smiled, I pedaling away).
 
For more specific info on this auditory odyssey, feel free to post comments below
 
 
 
 

Windows To My Doors Of Perception…India

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Hello misses, yes we have a room, this way please.  I climb three flights of humid rain drenched stairs while carrying Pandemic The Magic bicycle to my room.  The door isn’t really a door, the door is a window, not a window fashioned into a door but an actual window. 
 

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The kind of window so often found at grandmas cottage on the lake.  The interior of the room is rustic with aging brown ply wood walls. A large, oddly wired ceiling fan hangs from a nail overhead. It wobbles around with an air of stubborn wisdom, and will not give up spinning an appreciated breeze without a dutiful effort.  The floor is covered in colorful mats and warm almost wool blankets. It is big enough for at least a dozen people.  It is a simple and a perfect retreat from all things “India” out on the street. 
 
 
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Have tea, relax misses.  As I chat with the owner and his brother over tea I have to laugh to myself for having to crawl through the entrance window instead of a door seems remarkably appropriate.  Is this your first time to India?  
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Apparently, I am not hiding the shock and awe or the excitement and tribulation of being in India all that well.  I have been in India for three days and now sit here at ‘ the windows to my doors of perception guest house’ wondering if my finger tips can unravel a story from my smiling baffled over stimulated mind. After all three days is four thousand three hundred and twenty seconds.
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I will sum it up like this.  I now truly and whole heartily understand why so many people have been coming to India for so many years either on drugs or to be on drugs. In fact, the next high potency strain of anything really should just be called INDIA.