Lachung to Yumthang, Yumesamdong and Return

The clouds have disappeared into the void.

But there hangs a little amount of mist.

The darkness has faded into the light.

But it has taken the stars along with it.

The road travelled has been one of learning.

But it comes with its share of pain.

The moments of ecstasy, mingle with a tinge of failure.

But it leaves behind its trail of memories

And yes, it is the trail of memories which forces us to come to these mountains.

Again. And Again. And Again.

An experience like no other.

A joy like no other.

A satisfaction like no matter.

A story like no other.

It is still very early in the morning. I hold a cup of tea in my hand. I blow the tea cold, and its vapour catches onto the glasses of my spectacles. Then it goes away. I blow it again, and again it catches the surface and goes away. The tea has become a ritual of sorts over the past few days, I think, as I stand on a wide balcony of the hotel, struck by the lavishness of the wooden furniture. There is a small round table, with a couple of chairs at one end - everything rich and posh and it manages to catch the eye.

We spent a quite half an hour at Yumesamdong. The winds blew straight and cold, but we maintained the vigil. The roads were decent, if I may not say good. It was excellent riding here. The road ahead stretched to the Donkia La Pass, from where one can view the Tibetan plateau.

But unfortunately we didn't have a permit. Nor does the government issue one to Indian citizens.

I ride back to Gangtok that day and return to Kolkata the following day.