Marks and Spencers

I take a day off for organization purposes and to shake of the Godfather effect. I crave news so find a T.V and settle down to Al Jazeera; its good. I want more news so trek the 5km shortcut to Joshimath for a paper, catch up with some computer work and to try to locate my missing mobile phone. It disappeared the day before in a rasto-roko (road block) a group of aggrieved women had blocked the road in protest and in the confusion and the wandering about to find out why the phone must have fallen out of my pocket. I ring my number in hope rather then expectation. A man answers the phone in a mixture of Hindi and English he had found it in a jeep he says and had tried ringing numbers to trace me and my friends. He lives in a village miles away from any road he says, he is a shepherd (of sorts) well owns animals but shepherd sounds better. He arranged to bring the phone to the districts biggest town the following day and drop it off at a hotel This is good news. I trek back up to Auli, this is tough I need a beer. The barman looks annoyed. There are no other customers. There is a big clock ticking…………

I am out above the ski resort the trails are brilliant but its high above 3000 meters and there are no villages up here. The landscape has a more rolling moorland feel to it so its gentler riding, but the big snow capped peaks are visible in all directions. The trail climbs and climbs and rounds the low level mountain then where it changes dramatically the trail hugs the mountainside in a tiny sliver with a huge vertical drop on one side. I continue gingerly to a mini landslip which without the bike would be negotiable. I am twitchy I head back with the view of the Kwari Pass and the days planned destination Tapowan 20km down the valley below me arrgh.
I return the ride back is brilliant the singletrack climb reversed. I head for the bar. I am welcomed the baman appears happy he speaks enthusiastically. A T.V is on the bar. Cricket is tuned in more guests arrive for a drink. Brilliant.

I am now on the train to Delhi I am in luxury class 3.AC. The man opposite me stares at me indifferently, chomping on a samosa , spilling pastry flakes on to the seat. The last week has been a retreat from the mountains from base camp (cycle) to base camp picking up all my supply stores on the way. I have got incredible amounts of good riding for next year and loads of more trails half explored that look promising. The Colonel has stored my cycles and spares so no more struggling with massive bags and bikes in the 43C heat of Delhi. For that I can not thank him enough. Tommorrow I fly back. I am looking forward to it. Late September I am back here again. 4 months in the U.K should be enough time to refresh, pile on the pounds on real English, get me mother off to Marks and Sparks again and think of something interesting to type in the next blog. See you then. Mike