Woken by the wind howling through the valley. It has consistently been windy following dusk or in the morning. When the sun comes up the wind seems to die away. At night the rustle of the trees is quite pleasant, but it also carries a wind chill factor.
Early porridge before hitting the road for a long but believed insignificant climb, neither map (we now have two, as differing detail) has terrain detail but they do identify key location altitude. We attempted to milk more detail from google earth in the cybercafe but would kill for a topographical map.
Out of town we continue to follow the river on the left hand bank heading roughly north/north east. We rise and fall three times to side tributary or creek crossings. Road works appear to be happening on or in the near vicinity of each. More intimidating are the repeated signs of road slips onto the road. Whether uncleared rocks on our side forcing traffic around into the far lane or massive rocks that have been cleared to the far edge already. The cliff sides and overhangs over the road don't bring masses of confidence either as they tower above the road cutting and are quite often scored with pressure cracks. Little gecko looking lizards resettle on the rocks after our passing.
None of this appears to deter the local Indian drivers as we hit early afternoon rush hour with trucks, buses and tourist taxi vehicles (marked as such, generally white and with side blue strips) zooming by. Then again when on a bike, climbing and pulling weight anything and everything zooms. I have taken on the suspicion that the nastiest drivers are the taxis followed by the buses. Both seem to be on a mission to destination that erodes most other reason. I feel so sorry for the passengers on the bus, as how any of them make it to their destination, (or for that matter the guys in the back of the tourist landcruisers on the side bench seats)without being sick everywhere and setting off a chain reaction inside the vehicle evades me. It is not uncommon to see a persons head out of a vehicle, every now and again with the added detail of saliva hanging from their mouths. We have been blessed with not catching any discharge to date, which has entered into my mind, like any bystander to a fair amusement ride where you know the ride has the distinct capacity to result in such an end.
(Nb from Soph: so happy to be on a bicycle as with my motion sickness history I would last 5 minutes on most of the buses or tourist vehicles that swerve past us each day. They are generally bulging at the seams with passengers and as Dave has previously mentioned, there are at least a few heads drooped out of the windows which I can clearly relate to from many a previous situation. To have the wind in your face on a bike, or dust as it often is as we peddle up and up the mountainsides is something I would never swap for the speed of a bus or tourist vehicle around the bends in India!)
Pass a classically Indian road fix. On a down section we pass a road slip which has taken a decent bite out of the far lane. The crack still evident on one side of the bite in the bitumen and a pile of rocks at either side of the bite but obviously repaired as below the bite is perfect stone work following the exact curve of the slip.
We appear to have hit what is always a possibility when working with such maps, an unknown ridge to climb across on the way to Devaprayag. We have been rolling along well to this point and are about halfway into a 76km ride. The road is like a folded book puzzle, you are not quite sure what you are going to get until you round the next bend. Every now and again you see cuttings higher up on opposing hill lines but persuade your sled that they are alternate roads.
We pass a couple of great signs, as road signs here appear dotted through the hills, similar to Kasauli and Shimla. We pass one new one that identifies "you are licensed to drive not to fly" which taking into account the scenery is a very real possibility.
The tank is really starting to get low and breaks are becoming more frequent as the road continues to climb. I swear Bob has put on weight, but it is a lack of juice that is the problem, Soph is going fine, tired but fine. This morning my stomach was again unhappy and yesterday I was unfortunately only semi hungry. Top up at Byasi with some coke and limca, though now I am completely sugared out having been munching for some time on coconut cookies and bananas. I score my second rear tire puncture of the trip not far on. I find a small sliver of wire through the tire which is all I can put it down to, most likely from the residual burnt trash on the ground outside the general store.
At the pass I am too zonked to even relish the start of the down. We pass a few truckie looking Dhabas and pull into one to try and get something to fill up, I am still not openly hungry and the semi warm food does not offset for the warmth of welcome from the staff. Lunch time is 2-3pm and we have hit at 4pm in a location where it looks like they don't cater for Dinner.
Though struggled to eat the little I do is enough to bring back some life, Soph has finished all of hers, improving the teams average and assessment in the eyes of the locals. I have no problem with the chai.
Back on the bikes and downhill all the way to the Devaprayag bus stop. We have passed a couple of hotels but had read about an Uttrakhand Tourist Guest house. So we push on past a posse of young boys playing street cricket on the access road which was on at least a thirty degree slope. One kid pumped up asks if he can go take the bike for a ride, No, cycle on. When I get tired I am easily annoyed and these guys picked the wrong moment. Up to the guest house which looks like it has been abandoned. Call out, no one home. Back down past the boys who happen to hit a six which goes down over the side of the hill, how often it must happen.
Post some unsuccessful enquiries we decide to go into what we believe is town itself, which almost looks like a landslide has moved it down the hill side by the river. The trouble with lack of faith, whether as a result of the communication or commission, sometimes when advice is given, ie the rest house is closed, hotel such and such is the only hotel in town etc, you accept it but not at face value.I say this because by this stage I was absolutely stuffed, to put it politely. With bob you're either in or out, committed or not, because you take your luggage with you. To go down to town involved a concrete driveway, always a bad sign, and kept on going down, then down some more. To come up to the rest house you had to go down to a bridge crossing then climb up, so to loose the elevation on a possibility when tired and carrying your bags is a big decision. Any person who has navigated and gone down a hill unnecessarily knows what I mean.
We pass more kids and it is past crazy hour, being past dusk, kids are pumped and combined with curious full on. The tiredness in both of us was showing as the show of interest grated not elevated. We kept going down and entered a dark tight little turning street with dual story buildings on both side in various stage of repair, wood and brick. We asked some more people who weren't overly smiley and decided that no there was a temple down further but no hotel. So turn around and head back up the driveway, pushing bob. On the way we met a Vocational English/Hindi teacher who worked at the local college, he offered to take us to the Hotel up on the National Highway that we had just left.
At the Hotel Lakshimi the owner appears disgruntled, he call out as we rode by earlier. He identifies 400rup for the room in a hotel which otherwise appears empty. The room itself is pretty dumpy, no hot water, no tv and has squat toilet. I would not pay 100rup, plus he wants to know when we will be out in the morning. We thank him for showing us the room but identify we are not interested. Grumbling he walks back down to his shop below. We roll down the hill on the road that we entered, now that it is dark however it is a little more adventurous and pull up at the hotel opposite the bus stop. The room is better, a little cleaner but no hot water and the room is on the third floor. 300rup. Say thank you and that may return, post some soul searching and putting a head torch on we turn away pointing up hill back towards Rishikesh again. Slip over in the mud on the bike whist turning I am so tired.
Up the hill we find a Motel Dev perched on the hill overlooking town, again the place looks empty but we agree to 500rup on the promise of hot water in the morning. Well finished and huge, I guess being the down season Devaprayag is just not the place to be. I sit in the chair in the room for fifteen minutes. Up the stairs to the restaurant, though I am not yet hungry, and identify that little on the menu is actually available. Have Jeera Aloo, Dal fry, rice and chapattis. Jeera Aloo stays down. Chai is good and then down to our room. The hotel is definitely all to our selves, all five cascading levels of it. Quiet night.