Today, the Nepali equivalent is to breach the valley walls and head on out to Pokhara or Chitwan or anywhere really that is far enough away to diminish the sounds of Tata horns and rampant overdevelopment. Which is exactly what 30 plus classic motorbike enthusiasts did this past New Year’s week by participating in the Royal Enfield 2nd Annual Poker Run to Sauraha and back.
This motorbike ride, like many others I have been on over the past decade, is one of the big reasons why I intensely love Nepal. Organized by Sacred Summits (a local tour operator), this trip included a well-organized two-day excursion out of the valley, featuring local cuisine and accommodations, as well as lots of wholesome fun and games – plus a bit of decadence in the form of a sponsored beer party at our overnight destination in Chitwan.
But regardless of how you do it, leaving the valley once in a while is the best way to keep your sanity, especially if you are on the back of a big bike with fresh air in your face and the open road at your feet. And you would be surprised on how little time it takes to reach such Nirvana once you leave the Kathmandu depression. After running the Kirtipur gauntlet and reaching Naubise, it’s all downhill (or uphill if you choose the Daman road) from there. Regardless of the road taken, you are free from the oppressive valley atmosphere and transported back in time to a simpler life-- where congested chowks, high-rise apartments, and shopping malls have no place whatsoever.
Instead, villages flash by where the pace of life is slowed by cooking on open-air fires and telling time by the movement of the sun. Working the dirt and pulling fish from the water, weeding the rice paddy and bathing at the tap, all idealistically reminiscent of a time gone by – still exists just over the valley’s berm. Ironically, the gallivanting Enfield pack stares nostalgically at village life, as village children are transfixed with awe when dozens of noisy bikes blast through their otherwise quiet afternoon.
Regardless of how you do it, leaving the valley once in a while is the best way to keep your sanity.
The pitched road to Sauraha has much improved over the years, but the best way to see old Nepal via an Enfield overnight is to take the Kulekhani dirt road that starts/ends in Pharping. It’s amazing to see unspoiled landscapes within a stone’s throw of the capital, and exhilarating to survive this straight up and straight down path full of enough kidney-jarring rocks and holes to turn your insides into jelly.
This trip I stopped somewhere above the reservoir near Kulekhani, which by the way, looked just about dry. There, in the middle of a pine forest, I sat to reflect and relax, alone with my thoughts and hesitation about returning home to the city. A Siberian Weasel made its way across the road to take a sniff at my overheating motorbike, and then made a fast dash back into the forest. Like the village children, this weasel was also fascinated by a large loud and oily machine invading its space, but was smart enough to retreat in time.
The collision of man and nature struck me: We really are backing up all things wild, up against a wall of cultivation and overuse. But like a weasel, nature will bite back and begin to steal our chickens if cornered too closely, and mother Nepal will be no exception. Already, they should think about renaming Tiger Tops to Topless (as there are no more tigers), and Koshi Tappu Wildlife Reserve to Koshi Bedrock Village, considering that the Flintstones seem to have become more abundant then wild birds. And similar to the breach of the Sunsari retaining wall in 2008, we are all at risk of being swept away when the big one eventually hits, where instead of displacing 20,000 humans and untold numbers of animals, squashes that many into a rubble of an oblivious society instead.
But these were mighty awful thoughts to have sitting alone for a minute in the forest, surrounded by swaying pines and visited by a mysterious weasel (who, by the way, is rumored to steal your soul). It was enough of a daydream to wake me up with a start, and get me back on my smelly metal machine to return to the valley, where blaring horns, bright lights, outdoor LCDs, and an urge to visit Pizza Hut quickly replaced all of my dark musings.
So the next time you ask yourself “What should I do this weekend?” my advice is simple: Get outta town fast, before it’s too late.
(Writer is quirky-kinda expat happily living in the Kathmandu valley with Nepali family, friends, and a very large dog, and can often be found roaring around the country on a 350cc Royal Enfield Bullet.)
herojig@gmail.com
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