Ladakh. Politically a part of India but in its essence a slice of Central Asia. Gateway to Kashgar, Gilgit, Yarkand and beyond. Arid desert, snow capped bare rocky mountains with lush green oases in its valleys. Where you can see Bactrian camels and wild horses prancing in the wild. Lakes the color of Lapis Lazuli. Sparkling mountain streams with an abundance of trout you can see but cannot trap. Monasteries and houses built of sun burnt adobe bricks on mountain tops with a stark cloudless azure blue sky beyond. Where the mighty Indus which gave its name to a subcontinent and mothered a civilization lazily flows brown and muddy from the highlands of Tibet towards the Arabian Sea.

Ladakh. Trekker's Shangri La. Where you can get frostbite and sunburn at the same time. Where a midnight drive is the order of the day to avoid the Pakistani shells fired by 105mm Bofors guns with a 40km range. Staging post for Siachen. Highest motorable passes and roads on earth. Frontier towns teeming with workers from the plains braving a hostile environment in search of their daily bread. Where you puff your chest with pride at breathing easy at 13,000 ft till you meet a 21 year old Lt. of the Gurkha Rifles who has just spent 3 months in an ice cave on Point Bana at 22,000 ft on Siachen without oxygen! What did he do all day?? Tried to melt snow to get some water!! Did he find it tough? "Sir" he tells me, "tough or easy is just a state of mind".

Ladakh is this and much, much more.

The 475 Km Manali - Leh drive which we covered over 2 nights and 3 days instead of the usual 1N/2D was, to put it mildly, scary. Awesome terrain and narrow winding roads which seemed to climb for ever. The rising altitude made one breathe deeper and driving was an effort. You wished your lungs could take in more air. Turning the steering was just a wee bit more difficult and your reflexes slower. The rarified air made the diesel fumes hug the road and if you opened the window, the acrid choking smell got to you. We were on a homeo pill 'Coca ' twice a day to counter the lack of oxygen. We discovered later that in Peru, the hotels make you sip a tea thru the day before the ascent to Machu Picchu. The tea is made from Coca leaves. Yes, the same plant from which cocaine is produced. At Jispa (3,000M) where we spent the first night, walking up the 15 odd steps to the hotel's entrance itself was such an effort that we asked the staff to fetch the baggage.

Where a road existed, it was motorable. Otherwise it was just deep rutted tracks filled with water and strewn with rocks and pebbles. At many places, the roads were breached by rushing streams fed by melting snow and flowing down the mountain side carrying mud and rock. They made a beautiful sight for the eyes but driving thru them was a challenge. Many a small vehicle had to return due to the speed and high level of the water flow. Thankfully the Bolero could ford them without much problem. The passes did not look dramatic because of the bare mountain terrain. We crossed Baralacha La and Lachulung La passes comfortably. The much written about 21 Gata loops were a breeze compared to the climb up Masinangudi Ghat on the Mysore - Ooty route.

Consumption of 2 litres + of water per person per day meant proportionately more loo stops but it prevented dehydration and kept our oxygen levels up. At one crossing just before Pang, a river was raging across what was left of the road. One look at the water, the washed away road marker drums and the steep incline beyond was enough to unnerve me. I chickened out and placed our fate in the hands of my more experienced friend Mahesh who took over the wheel and drove fast and straight as an arrow to the other side. Easier said than done because he had to ensure that the speed and trajectory perfectly countered the force and direction of the raging water. A miscalculation and the Bolero would have gone over the edge of the road and into the river beyond! Many smaller vehicles had returned unable to cross this stream.

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