Day Three Thu 26th Oct Bir – Manali 180km

We were up at 6am, breakfasted at 7 and on the road by 8. The roads before the morning tea stop were very good but after they became much worse as we climbed up into the hills. Nick, who’d been slower yesterday, set off up the first hill like a scalded cat and I set off a bit too quick trying to keep up with the boys, stupidly, and so had my first ever proper bike accident. Taking the gravely line round a bend, too quick and using the front brake – yes, I could see my mistake too as soon as I’d chosen my line! The bike started fish-tailing and before I could think “Oh, bugg…” I was flicked off the left side - doing a rather balletic star jump and hitting my chest on the wing mirrors. I lay on my back waiting for things to hurt, but when they didn’t I sat up and checked that everything still wiggled. Jon, Ed and the mechanics were close behind so they picked the bike up (after checking I was OK, naturally). Ed said that I seemed remarkably chipper considering I’d just come off – adrenalin and relief at being uninjured I expect. My trousers had a hole in them but the armour underneath had saved my knee from injury. On closer inspection the material had melted rather than ripped so I must have caught the engine or exhaust on my way past. I’d smashed the headlight and twisted the handlebars and tank protection bars. Once the mechanics had bent my bike back into shape I hopped on and proceeded at a slightly more sensible pace!

We soon caught up with the others though, because Nick had done exactly the same thing on a corner further up and had trapped his leg under the bike. Luckily, Ian had quickly got him out, but he was rather shaken. His clothing had held out but he burnt his elbow with the friction on the INSIDE of his jacket! I got some gaffer tape from Matt to cover the hole in my trousers and we set off again.

The roads climbed higher and were a bit gravely. We crossed a river at one point. Jon and I had dropped back a bit from the rest, as I was going slower. It’s actually quite tiring leading a group into hairpin bends and not knowing what’s on the other side, it’s much easier to follow someone, and towards lunchtime I was getting quite tired. Steve was stopping occasionally to take photos and would rejoin behind us. He is a Harley rider in real life and in his club has the job of training new / less confident riders and he over took me and stayed about 3 - 4 car lengths in front so that I could follow him – it made a great difference and was an incredibly kind thought. When we caught up with the others Nick and I followed Steve down the mountain. The road led down through a pine forest and the views were wonderful (when I could steal a look). But the road was so twisty that you really couldn’t allow yourself to lose concentration for a moment. A couple of the chaps said they’d looked at the view and found themselves heading for the edge of the cliff so they didn’t try that again!

We had lunch (veggie chow mien and chop suey!) in the Kullu Valley and bought some scarves and shawls in the shop next-door. One of the mechanics led the group in the early afternoon because Matt only knew the route in reverse and we needed to avoid a traffic jam. Personally, I‘d have opted for the traffic jam as he led us over some of the roughest roads yet before taking us over a ROPE BRIDGE – I kid you not – the sort of thing that has wooden slats and swings when you walk on it and you stretch out your arms to hold the rope at each side of you to steady yourself… Interesting experience feeling the bike swinging from side to side underneath you…

The roads got better after that and we were making good progress, I don’t think we’d got strung out too much - there was probably about a minute or two between each of the groups. Matt was leading with Neil, Ian and Mike behind him. Iain was a couple of minutes ahead of Steve who was a minute or so ahead of us. Behind us were Nick and Colin with Ed and the mechanics. We came round a right-hand hairpin to find the road sloping gently down to a left-hand hairpin over a bridge. Just before the bridge was Mike on the ground with Iain tending him. Mike’s bike was wedged behind him in a crevice just before the steep drop to the river. Steve was just parking on the far side of the bridge to run back to them, which is what we did.

Mike was sitting up when we got to him with an obviously damaged and painful left shoulder area, and was an awful shade of grey. Iain is a GP and Steve a retired fireman so they really were the best people to help him. They very slowly and very gently took his jacket off and we raided our first aid kits to find something to make a sling. Unfortunately, he bandages were too short but Jon remembered the scarves we’d bought at lunchtime – so Mike was packed off to Manali hospital wearing a very jaunty blue and yellow stripy tasselled sling! Mike sealed his status as Top Bloke by cracking jokes as his colour returned. When I turned up he said, “I couldn’t let a girl have a better accident than me!” and when Matt appeared Mike said, “Well, you did say I could park the bike anywhere in India”.

Once Mike was packed off in the car to the hospital the chaps set about getting the bike out of the gulley. Many people had stopped to see if they could help or take Mike to hospital and one young lad stayed to help retrieve the bike. With so many hands it only took seconds. Iain said he’d come round the corner to find Mike still lying prone on the side of the road, as white as a sheet. Mike wasn’t too sure what had happened, but looking at the scratches in the road the bike had slid several metres before coming to rest. But, as usual, the mechanics bent it back into shape and it started first time, so one of them rode it to the hotel.

At that point we were probably only about an hour from the hotel, but the afternoon sort of descended into chaos. First the local gendarmes spotted our Delhi number plates and pulled half of us over to pay tolls and Matt had to come back and get us. Then we hit roadworks and a traffic jam on a very muddy uphill section. Unfortunately, I followed 4 of the lads 100 yards up the wrong hill which had rutted mud about a foot deep. I made it up to the ridge where they’d stopped but I couldn’t believe it when I saw them turning the bikes round! My little heart sank and my eyes got all watery, but I managed to turn the bike across the mud to the layby where they were waiting. Steve spotted my ‘delicate’ emotional state and said that I didn’t have to accept but he was happy to take my bike back down the mud if I wanted. I was quite happy to agree and Matt then rode it 100 yards up the right hill and gave me a backie to join it. Jon got a puncture at the bottom of the hill and had to have a wheel changed. We finally reached Manali town but I chose the wrong route over a bridge with high wooden slats and slipped and dropped the bike. Then almost dropped it just before another bridge. By the time we reached the hotel I was utterly knackered.

Just as we were getting off the bike Mike arrived – looking a damn sight better than when we’d last seen him and with his arm in a proper sling. His shoulder blade was broken, as was his collarbone and a couple of ribs, and he would have to go back to Delhi for surgery tomorrow. But they’d given him lots of painkillers so he was feeling better.

The hotel was beautiful. Jon and I showered and went to the bar – I decided I deserved some good whisky and got on the outside of a couple of Johnny Walker Black Labels as soon as I could – and we got chatting to the lovely barman who had a strange air of Tony Hancock about him. I think it was the cable-knit sweater that did it. The bar had a roaring log fire which I hogged all night as I was freezing (delayed shock?). But some of the chaps went to the open air thermal springs (they’re segregated so I’d have had to bathe on my own if we’d gone). Well, they turned into a tourist attraction! Women were hanging over the wall from the ladies’ section to point and laugh and some were even having an escorted tour of the men’s bath to see the pasty foreigners!

Bev