Solo Road Trip To Munsiyari

This account of my solo ride to Munsiyari is a bit old and was featured elsewhere. The year was 2012, a year before I rode to Leh. My ride was a Silver Elecrta, which is now customized to a Maroon beast that shakes the heavens each time its engine comes to life. The bike belongs to my brother. Although the narrative is a bit old, the experiences I had are still fresh as the crisp snow that caps the mountain peaks in Munsiyari. Read on, and do share your experiences of a long solo ride…

A Soul Searching Road Trip to Munsiyari

Riding solo in the mountains was not something that possessed me overnight.  I often dreamt about riding my bull on long, deserted stretches that Leh offered, in addition to mesmerizing backdrop of neat, light brown peaks that team well with the perfect blues of the heavens.

But as luck would have it, I could never plan out a schedule to fit the long journey to Leh.

While catching up with an old friend, who hails from Ranikhet, I got to know about Munsiyari, which lies in the Pitthoragarh district and is very near to the Indian border to China and Nepal.  While talking to him, I searched images of Munsiyari, and was instantly sold to the idea of riding to the place.

So at 3:30 am on a June morning, I kicked off to the distant destination of Munsiyari. The weather was unexpectedly cool and the night-sky was lit by a very bright moon that gallantly fought with large, grey patches of clouds.

I had not planned any stopovers, nor calculated the distance I would need to cover in a day’s time. I simply wanted to unwind and did not want to pressurise myself to reach a pre-scheduled destination. This might sound crazy for many regular travellers (it was the first for me too), but it worked perfectly fine for me.

My decision to start early paid off, as I crossed Brijghat (infamous for being host to nasty traffic jams) while it was still dark. I stopped at McDonald’s for an early breakfast, and thumped on non-stop to Haldwani, where I took a very brief halt.

But by the time I negotiated the horrific traffic at Haldwani, the stifling heat and fatigue (from lack of sleep from previous 2 nights) made it difficult for me to ride on.

Remembering my friend’s advice, I promptly halted at Monu’s ‘Om Namah Shivay’ cafe, which serves great maggi noodles and black tea. For the convenience of the readers, this cafe is located just before the first bridge that one encounters after taking a right-turn from Kathgodam for Bhowali. I later found out that a better place to have noodles and black tea is near by – for that, you need to take a left, instead of right towards the bridge.

While Monu exercised his culinary prowess, I stole a power nap. The maggi tasted excellent, which I washed down with a chilled coke, instead of the highly-recommended black tea, for it was too hot to try anything steaming hot.

Refreshed from the meal and the quick nap, I rode on, crossing Bhimtaal, and Kainchi Dham alongside the tributary of river Kosi. The rest of the journey was uneventful, except for the fact that my riding gear drew much attention. On several occasions, people asked me questions such as ‘yeh lohe ka hai kya?’ (Is it made of iron?), and ‘yeh bike ke saath milta hai?’ (Does the gear come with the bike?)

Though I could average out a speed of only 35 kmph on the road to Almora, I didn’t complain. Considering the fact that I drove on the valley side, which had no fencing, the speed appeared to be quite decent, and safe.

After getting past lots of turns and bends, I reached Almora. The pretty blue-white ‘Akashvani’ building greeted me, whose charm I acknowledged and moved on to the mall road to find a decent hotel. I checked in a hotel by the name of ‘Hotel Shikhar,’ which was a decent abode that offered a secured parking.

After driving close to 400 kms on day 1, I was ready to hit the sack for a long relaxing sleep. And I stuck to my plan.

I overslept and woke up groggily at about 11:00 am the next day. However, soon after having a refreshing cup of tea, I gathered my wits and got ready in no time.

After a frugal breakfast, I continued my journey with a plan to visit Patal Bhuvaneshwar (PB), which is about 107 kms from Almora, and spend the night at Chaukori, a lovely hill station some 30 odd kms away from PB .

I was surprised to know the variation in people’s estimate about the distance between Almora and PB, and Beri Nag. Hence I conferred a group of soldiers who guided me perfectly. They bade me to take the following route:

Almora – Chetai (Golu Dev Temple) – Badi Cheena – Dhaula Cheena – Seraghat – Rai Agar – Patal Bhuvaneshwar/ Beri Nag / Chaukori.

However, by the time I reached Rai Agar, it was about 4:30 pm (from there PB is another 20 kms of hill ride), and I learnt that the entry to the temple would get closed by 5:00 pm. Hence, I decided to check in the Kumaon Vikas Mandal Nigam (KVMN) guest house for the night, visit the shrine early morning and ride on to Munsiyari.

The KVMN guest house was located at a distance of less than 300 meters from the famous temple of Patal Bhuvaneshwar. It also offered a great view, but due to the annual forest fire, a dull mist made up of smoke made it impossible to see anything.

The service at KVMN was very warm, and the caretaker Mr. Jalan’s hospitality was commendable.

During the day, I realized that there had been an acute shortage of petrol in entire Uttrakhand, especially at places in higher altitudes. At Rai Agar, a shopkeeper confided that if I needed petrol then he can sell it to me at a price of INR 150 per liter.

This sounded incredulously expensive, but I wondered that the fuel-starved locals would not hesitate in buying such expensive fuel when they are left with no other option. It was clearly a black-marketer’s day.

I had enough petrol to reach Munsiyari and now I was equipped with the knowledge that I don’t need to hunt a petrol pump if I run low on fuel. I just had to locate a grocery store that sold fuel in Pepsi bottles at INR 150 a liter.

I was lucky that throughout my trip I got petrol from genuine sources, i.e., petrol pumps, and faced no difficulty on that account.

Unlike the previous day, I woke up afresh at about 7:30 am and was ready to explore the temple among the first set of pilgrims. A charming man, whose age cannot be determined by looking at him, greeted me and noted my personal details. He kept my phone safely, as it had an in-built camera, and assigned a guide to me. He instructed me to pay the guide and for the temple trust as per my wish.

I followed my middle-aged guide Mr. Bhandari to the low entrance of the shrine, typical to small temples in India. However, I was utterly surprised to see that the entrance leads to a steep rocky slope towards the belly of the earth, and my guide was already half-way down and now looking up to me expectantly.

In my wildest dreams I had no such notion of the cave temple. This was different.  I am not claustrophobic, nor I have acrophobia, but sitting at the entrance of the cave and staring at the bottomless, rocky ramp I admit that I was not feeling entirely brave.

Only because I had spent a day of riding to visit this shrine, and because I had heard so much about the place, I decided to venture inside the cave. I drew a deep breath and slowly made my way down the cave with the help of iron chains that are planted for the convenience of the pilgrims.

As I started moving downwards, I felt stronger and agile than I had felt in days. The narrow passageway opened in a rather roomier chamber, which was dimly lit with CFL bulbs, and harboured cold and wet air.

My limited knowledge about the Vedas and Puranas saved my guide many questions and references, which a thorough Hindu would have undoubtedly asked him. The references attached to the figurines in the cave are plenty, and so are the coincidences of stalactites and stalagmites appearing as divine creatures.

All in all, it was a ‘must-have’ experience for anyone travelling to these parts of India.

After this awesome experience and a quick breakfast, I kicked off to my ultimate destination, Munsiyari.

I reached Thal by 2:00 p.m., and stopped for fuel. Then I moved on, crossing Nachni, and Kwiti in a hot, stuffy weather. Things however changed when I reached Girgaon. A sudden downpour chilled the air and lifted my mood. I stopped to pull out my rain gear, soaked in the marvellous beauty of the place and trudged on.

The drive between Girgaon – Ratapani – Munsiyari is a rider’s dream. The landscape has wide, lush green slopes dotted with cattle and a few stone houses with slanting thatched roofs. No words or pictures could contain the beauty of the place.

On reaching Munsiyari, the first thing I noticed is the ominous presence of snow-clad peaks. I was lucky to get a room in the KVMN guest house, which offers a great view of the peaks.

While I ordered tea, I got a call from an unknown number. I ignored the call couple of times, but grudgingly picked up the third time it rang. I was in for a shock. While taking out my rain gear, I accidently dropped my wallet (needless to say it carried all the money and my licence/cards), which was picked up by a party of good men. I recovered my wallet in less than 15 minutes (which I dropped at least 6 kms away from Munsiyari.) I profusely thanked the party, and my stars, too.

The next morning I lazed around, gazed at the peaks at length, and drove to Darkot, which is a small town some 7 kms away.

I met a genial gentleman at the KVMN who advised me not to take the Pitthoragarh, Tanakpur route as the roads were bad.

This was a valuable piece of advice, and I followed it without regrets. At noon I packed up and said good-bye to Munsiyari. It was only logical to drive till Chaukori the same day to avoid driving in the night. But I had other plans. I had the target of reaching Almora the same day, even if it meant a few hours of driving without the sun.

I rode hard, for my chosen destination was far away. While I was crossing Kwiti, a heavy downpour drenched me. At one point in time, two large stones dropped besides me, which urged me to ride away from the mountain side as much as I could help. By the time I reached Nachni, there was no trace of rain.

I stopped at Thal for a fuel top up and resumed my journey forward. I didn’t take any elaborate break, which helped me in crossing Seraghat, while the sun was still up.

Somewhere between Seraghat and Badi Cheena the forest was engulfed into semi-darkness, which created spooky effects for an imaginative mind.

I reached Almora by 9:00 pm, wet, tired and hungry. The next unexpected thing to happen was an acute shortage of rooms in Almora (it was a weekend.) After much jostling, I could manage a shady room in a hotel in the main market, above the mall road.

I paid less heed to my surroundings and hit the sack after a hearty meal. The next day I drove off at about 10:00 am, and after a long ride (about 400 kms) in scorching sun, and maddening traffic I reached Delhi by 9:30 pm.

Even after five years, the ride to Munsiyari is fresh in my mind. I found the ride to Munsiyari quite exhilarating. The landscape of Munsiyari is enchanting and is worth your time and efforts. If you haven’t already, I would suggest that you must drive / ride to this beautiful hill station – also called little Kashmir, and do pay a visit to the Patal Bhuvaneshwar temple.

If you are riding to Munsiyari, go with proper gear – riding jacket, knee guards or riding pants, a sturdy helmet with scratch-free visors, and yes, don’t forget to get rainproof covers for your luggage.

Happy riding . . . vroom vroom . . .