PREVIOUS PART: Motorcycling across Sikkim | Day 7 - Part 2 | Gurudongmar to Lachen
The winding mule track seemed to be the only way to reach the last house of the village. A few children playing at the end of the path created some disturbance for the owners around. As they shooed the children away, I tried to lift my head which was still feeling heavy. Lucky to have the fever down last night, I was in no hurry to start for the day. The route had already been traversed 2 days ago. I was aware of the bad terrains and the best places to stop. A hot bowl of noodles and a cup of coffee were the only things that I needed now. My bones and muscles felt a lot weaker than when I came to Lachen. Obviously, it was the cold and fever that aided this weakness. However, it was a solo ride and I had to take every step cautiously. Riding solo, you have to give your best efforts to avoid any untoward incident. And, most often a solo ride coupled with an untoward incident on these lands brew a deadly cocktail.
The winding mule track seemed to be the only way to reach the last house of the village. A few children playing at the end of the path created some disturbance for the owners around. As they shooed the children away, I tried to lift my head which was still feeling heavy. Lucky to have the fever down last night, I was in no hurry to start for the day. The route had already been traversed 2 days ago. I was aware of the bad terrains and the best places to stop. A hot bowl of noodles and a cup of coffee were the only things that I needed now. My bones and muscles felt a lot weaker than when I came to Lachen. Obviously, it was the cold and fever that aided this weakness. However, it was a solo ride and I had to take every step cautiously. Riding solo, you have to give your best efforts to avoid any untoward incident. And, most often a solo ride coupled with an untoward incident on these lands brew a deadly cocktail.
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| A snap from the way... |
