Are You Alone?

Misery replaced by serenity as next day’s descent through thick forest is excellent, wide track but steady gradient and a good 15 km downhill. Return to the miserable town of Dewal scene of a horrors last year when caught up in rainstorm and forced to spend the night. Pedal through frantically then I am climbing for three hours and over 1500 meters in height on a jeep track with the odd bit off broken road up to Loharkhat.
Everyone appears drunk and mills around the few shops in the centre of the village asking me if I am alone. Which is a reasonable enough question but begins to infuriate after the 25th asking especially when it seems to stop all conversation with the questioner either overcome by intense empathy for my fate or complete incomprehension that someone could travel alone. After a bit even the happiest moods can soon be brought to an abrupt end when you are constantly reminded that you are alone a fate worse than death in Indian eyes. They are never alone. Return to room to be alone and sulk.
Early start the next day and I am soon in Wan at the foot of the 700 m climb up the Khukina Khal the first 70% is not rideable so throw the bike over the shoulders and start to climb its steep and tough but becomes increasingly scenic near the top with views over the valley which are cast into shadow by enormous birds that could be vultures or Eagles, some mad lass reckoned they were Griffins. I have been here for nine months and senses are wavering a bit must disagree with her on this point.
Descend steeply on a rocky trail to the village of Kunol and time for tea and tiffin (not griffin) and try to get more information on the forests ahead. Three times I have been here before and headed off to the next village of Sootol and come back near to tears after roaming round the labyrinth trails in the forests for hours on end looking at the bear pawings on the trees wondering if it is all worth it. This time I get assurances about the trail and the bears and its explained simply I can not go wrong.
I head off into the forest ‘alone” and make good round on what appear to be well worn tracks. Trails split, must be this one and then that one, maybe I could scramble up here for a look that trails looks good….. I am lost, nothing can lead me out of the forest, I pedal along nervously I catch a branch, the plastic bag full of clothes gets dislodged and rolls down a steep landslip, I am edgy and distressed scrambling down the slip for the plastic bag, is this how it all ends??? Fucking ridiculous. Recover bag and fortuitously spot some more tyre tracks can’t be many Mountain bikers out here so must be mine. I follow the tracks the forest becomes less dense a wide path becomes visible I follow that up and I return after an hour or so’s frantic riding back to Kanol. Locals welcome me back with tea, revised directions and offers of a room for the night it is only 2.p.m. I take it.
I stay in the house of Mr Pushkar Singh. The room is simple with a planked makeshift bed and a goatskin blanket to keep me warm. Underneath me is a stable and I can see the buffalos and cows through gaps in the boards contentedly chomping on straw. The reassuring smell of cow shit sends me to sleep that night.