Since Georg is bored stiff in Leh, and I don't exactly have anything better to do either, we decide - why not? - to tackle the famous Khardung La today. Straight from our guesthouse door it's 37 km uphill, about 2,000 vertical meters, topping out at 5,360 m. As a send-off, Chorol, the mama of Moon Palace, gifts each of us an honor scarf.
The road is buzzing compared to the quiet passes of the last days. Plenty of big and small construction zones slow us down - each one replacing smooth asphalt with bone-rattling rubble. The worst section stretches on for 7 km and sucks the energy out of me. Our “informants” swore the road was good all the way to the top 🤔. Still, the views of Leh, the Indus Valley, and the snowy 6,000 m peaks beyond make the grind worth it.
Georg, of course, is already gone ahead. From 5,100 m I'm back to pushing the bike up the steep gravel so my body doesn't redline completely. Somewhere along the way I meet a family touring with two kids. They've just come down and tell me they gave Georg their number - we'll meet in Leh tonight. Their nine-year-old son actually rode up Khardung La himself. Respect!
The final two kilometers? Cobblestones. Delightfully bumpy. Painful summit joy.
At the top, thank heavens, there's a heated room. Georg is waiting inside, surrounded by a random collection of fellow pass conquerors. We chat with some Enfield-riding med students from Kashmir. Out north over the Karakorum a storm brews, winds picking up. Two young guys show up in shorts, tank tops, sandals, and shiny protective gear - looking like comic book gladiators - and announce they're going to mountain bike down to Leh. Thankfully, their guide comes to his senses and stuffs them and their bikes back into the transport van, a thousand meters lower.
I head down too, while Georg, for reasons that shall remain secret, has already blasted off ahead.
At the bottom we check into our new rooms. That was it - the final act of this Ladakh cycling adventure. Tomorrow it's packing time, and the day after, the flight back to Europe.
We've had a small window into this unique culture - both rural and urban life, and the ever-present military outposts that pump money and jobs into the region.
Apart from those brutal first two days, the weather has been perfect: sunny, dry, and warm enough to climb the 5,000 m passes without ski suits. 🙏
In total, Georg and I rode 900 km and climbed about 16,000 vertical meters, conquering nine passes - thankfully without a single puncture or crash. By far the sportiest cycling holiday I've ever had 🤪.
74 km, 2,000 vertical meters.
