With the 22 group riding just ahead, Topi (our friendly neighborhood spiderman!) came to take a look to see what he could do to help. Nitin (or was it Jitin) who was riding the bike down remained blissfully unaware of this significant little fact, till the rear drum brake just exploded the expended brake shoes onto the road. Translated – on the way down from Tanglangla, after repairing the twins carrier as best as they could, the nut (pun unintended!) on the rear axle of Ashwin’s motorcycle had come undone. With a wildly gesticulating and hysterically screaming man.Īll that I could make out was, "therearaxleonashwinsbikecameoffandnitinalmostkill edhimselfsowestoppedatrhumseforthenight." About 20 minutes later, I heard the unmistakable sound of an Enfield coming downhill as a flash of chrome and blue came around a bend. With less than 5 words exchanged between us (across a road) he re-alighted the death trap Bolero and sped off uphill, to look for the missing men and their machines. One look at him and I knew that he’d had a worse night than me! Soon thereafter, as I was loading the bike up, a white Bolero screeched to a halt to unload a harrowed looking Ashwin. With dawn breaking pretty early around here, I brushed and washed up at first light. Finally at about 4 in the morning, I sat up to huddle near the clutch cover of the motorcycle. The milky way extends all the way across the sky and the colder it is, the closer and clearer it seems.Įven with Angelina valiantly cutting out a major part of the wind whistling around my ears, a lot of it found it’s way into the sleeping bag like an insidiously cold finger. The night sky in the mountains and the explosion of stars that are visible to the naked eye is always awe-inspiring.
0 kommentar(er)
