Border Challenge- The lost road to Durbuk
We are standing at a crossroad, contemplating. One sign leads to KhardungLa while the other points to an obscure village called Agham. A week ago, Ouseph pulled out a map of North India. “There is this road that connects Agham to Durbuk and leads to Pangong Tso. More often than not it is shut due to landslides, it is lonely like you wouldn’t believe and it is more spectacular that words can describe. Ben, would you like to do another Border Challenge?”
“Oh, and one more thing. The road was washed away last year so no one knows what condition it is in right now,not even the locals.” And before I could say anything he smiles wryly. “You could always be a chicken and go over Wari-La.” Yeah. So no pressure.
And so we find ourselves back in Ladakh, a month after the Border Challenge run to the PoK border at Turtuk in Kashmir. We now have our eyes on the Chinese border, or maybe not, because we have spent the last 15minutes discussing whether to be sane or fool hardy. So far we haven’t seen a single vehicle coming out of, or going towards Agham andwith the sun setting, we can either backtrack 20 kilometres and spend the night in Khalsar or we could be raiders of the lost road and drive 40 kilometres to Agham. Someone mutters “you live only once”.Five kilometres down the road to Agham, we come to an abrupt halt.
The road ahead is buried in rubble. It is nothing that the surprisingly capable Duster can’t handle though the road ahead disappears out of sight after the bend ahead. The smart thing to do is to walk down the road to scour for nasty surprises. Around the turn, we find a soldier and his excavator, who seems equally startled to see us. He turns out to be from Maharashtra (where we are based) and is overjoyed to speak in his mother tongue, giving us directions and assuring us that the road (if you can call it that!) to Agham is do-able, but even he didn’t have a clue about the state of the road to Durbuk. He helps us get on our way by flattening the rubble with a few thumps of the excavator’s giant claw and we are off. The roads ahead are fairly good and snake around the mountainside. That is until we turn a corner to see a portion of the road washed away. Vikrant insists he wants to take a picture and we get out of the vehicle only to discover to our horror that a little ahead, the earth below the tarmac surface has been washed away and half of the road was floating in air. Had we not stopped, we would have had a not-so-nice excursion a hundred feet down into the valley.
The next couple of minutes are spent thanking our stars and Vikrant’s obsessive photo stops. Aniruddha and Vikrant want to turn back and return to Leh but we’ve come this far and I don’t want to be labelled a chicken. Half a kilometre ahead, I can see the road winding down and merging into the plains and we drive the Duster over the safe bit of road and continue onward. Daylight is fading as we close in onAgham. We see a couple of road-workers and a guy in a beat-up Maruti Omni and ask him if we can get a hotel in Agham.He looks back at us totally perplexed.
Turns out Agham is a tiny settlement with just four houses. Sensing our predicament Tyashi offers to open his home for us which we graciously accept. The five-room home is modest but charming and is tastefully decorated with carpets and intricately carved chests and tables. The large wooden windows overlook a small garden and you can sit there for hours, sipping sweet tea, and watch the sun go down. With no mobile network we ask our host if we can use his phone to call our dear ones at home. “For that, we need to go near the mountains as we get network there.” Tyashi’s son-in-law takes us in the rickety van up to the foothill of the mountain, some five kilometres away. From there we trudge up the face of the mountain to find people huddled in groups around small rocks. Lachpa takes out his phone, holds it high and walks around. He stops and calls us over. The thing is the network here is concentrated in pockets around half a foot in diameter so as long as you’reon the inside, you get reception. That explains the huddle. It’s weird yet fascinating.
I bet you must have seen countless sunrises but have you ever witnessed a moon rising over a valley? Agham sits in a valley with huge mountains on either side so the moon takes a while to shed its light here. And when it does, it is spectacular. At around 8.30pm, we are walking back to the village when the full moon rises over the highest ridge.In two seconds, the entire valley is bathed in light, as if a torch has been switched on, and the transformation is surreal.
Dinner consists of a simple fare of rice and cauliflower stew with yoghurt andlater on we get into a late-night conversation with Tyashi. Agham, it turns out is cut-off from the world but is self-sufficient with solar energy and fruits and vegetables grown in the orchard beside the house. During winters, they can sustain for a month and a half before needing to renew supplies. The Indian Army helps them get to the nearest town, around 70km away. Tyashi has cows parked under the home and his Yaks are up in the mountains left to graze by themselves. When asked about their safety, he laughs. “There is no one around to steal them and the only time they face any danger is from snow leopards during winters”. Our ears perk up hearing about snow leopards. “Yes I have seen them twice near the village,”he casually answers. I know a guy who has been up in the mountains for four months now searching for the most elusive cat in the world and this guy has been up close with it. Twice. I think I’ll settle down here.
The next morning Tyashi sees a single jeep coming from the general direction of Durbuk. The 70km road travels along the Shyok River and crosses to the other bank at three places. If the bridges at these places are intact, we might just make it across.
Get out of Agham and you immediately have to trapeze across this broken single laned road that is sandwiched between the gushing Shyok River and a rocky wall face that looks like it will crumble onto us any moment. The river is unnervingly close to us and the swell doesn’t boost confidence either. A few clicks ahead, the road climbs up and is littered with rocks. Thankfully the Duster’s high ground clearance allows it to pass over the small rocks while the big ones need two of us to push and shove. Aniruddha cautions me to move over the small ones as delicately as possible as the area seems quite fragile and any big vibrationscould trigger a landslide. What are we getting ourselves into?
Up ahead, the road turns into a dust track leading away from the mountainside and into the plains. Aniruddha, sensibly, decides to walk the road and survey while I take a look around. There has not been a soul in sight since we left Agham, only a lonely bulldozer abandoned back there. Take a step back to comprehend the magnitude of things and you will understand the beauty that lies in this desolation. Aniruddha has walked quite far away by now and is a speck on this vast canvas of such contrasting colours; it is indescribable. Vikrant sees what I do and captures the moment.
The dust track is actually sand with the consistency of talcum powder that will have you sink your feet if you walk on it, let alone drive. There is only one solution to this. Switch from 2WD to AWD and power through maintaining momentum. The Duster just sails through leaving a trail of fine dust in its wake. Then there are water crossings. As a rule, walk across before letting your vehicle through to avoid any nasty surprises in the form of rocks that can gouge out a sump. I did that and got rewarded for my trouble with a boot full of icy glacial water in my waterproof, ankle length boots. Oh, the agony.
It’s over two and a half hours since we left Agham and we have covered just 18km! At this rate, Pangong Tsolooks like a distant dream. Thankfully, the roads get better and the terrain more breathtaking. All three bridgesare accessible and are quickly crossed but till now there is not a soul in sight. A large part of our confidence for venturing into the unknown stems from our faith in the Duster’s unwavering capabilities that has got us through the challenging terrain of Leh. This path however makes the road to Turtuk look like an expressway. One wrong move and we might end up having to walk 30 kilometres for rescue, or worse, spend the night in sub-zero temperatures. Far in the distance, up on the mountain are signs of civilisation in the form of white specks and two hours later, we reach the town of Shyok. It seems deserted but,happily, the roads are now smooth.
At Durbuk, we merge with the line of vehicles going towards PangongTso and the blue lake is reached within the hour. Sitting along the banks of the mesmerisingly crystal clear waters, it’s time to reminisce. We rediscovered the lost road of Agham and that’s a memory that will stay with us for a long time. A story to tell the grandchildren.
The unsung hero here is the Renault Duster AWD and its innate ability to perform out of its comfort zone, to do stuff it wasn’t designed to do, without faltering. That’s what makes it a hero and an endearing one at that. In fact, I am hooked. I want one. Ed, can we talk about that car loan?
We take the chicken route over Chang La back to Lehand arrive well in time to shop at the market and enjoy the local cuisine before jumping into our warm cosy beds. What a journey it has been and it’s not because of the destination but the journey itself. As I write this from the comforts of my home, I recollect the words of a talented writer and at the risk of plagiarism, I thus quote, “The thing about discovery is, it doesn’t mean finding something first. It means finding it for yourself”.
So what are you waiting for?
