It was our first day of riding and it was a blast. Checking out of our hotel, I met my brother from a different mother, Sani, from Bali, Indonesia. Seeing we were motorcyclists, he struck up the conversation. He’d just completed an 8-day mountain trek with his family, but is an avid adventure motorcyclist back home. When I asked what he rode, he listed 3 of the same bikes that live in my garage back home. Small world. After a short walk to the shop, we geared up and hit the road. The bikes, Royal Enfield Scram 411’s, were simple, easy to handle, and very forgiving. Their relative lack of horsepower meant that any trouble you’d get yourself into was entirely due to bad decision-making. We worked our way out of the city and within about an hour, it seemed very much like Ecuador. Tiny villages, animals sharing the road, and a relaxed third world vibe with the most friendly people in the universe. There was one main road that takes you to the Mustang valley. We didn’t take it. Prabin led us on the local’s road that went up, down, and around the lush and verdant mountains. It was mostly paved with about 30% gravel to keep us on our toes and get us ready for challenges ahead. We stopped for lunch in a little village and met Monika, a 22-year-old school teacher currently living in Pokhara. The little restaurant was owned by her mom, and her whole extended family was in town for festival. I’d picked up 10 postcards in Florida to give out as gifts and gave my first to Monika, which was received so well, I had to repeat for her kid sister, brother and aunt. She loves the U.S. from sitcoms, her favorites are Friends, the Office, Parks and Rec. Later that afternoon, we stopped for a break on a beautiful mountain road near a bus stop filled with young children. Super fun interaction, conversation, and great pics. We got our dirt-legs on some steep and rocky sections that brought back memories of the Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route we’d ridden earlier in the year. But the riding highlight of the day was unquestionably our first suspension bridge. We’d all seen pictures of these narrow steel foot bridges, built with thick metal cables and metal planks and suspended high above rivers and gorges. They were just wide enough for one motorcycle and a pedestrian going in the opposite direction. Very exciting the first time across, they would become routine in the upcoming days. Our digs for the evening were just past the bridge and we had to walk across another suspension bridge to reach the hotel, appropriately called The Cliffs. We slept well that night…a good thing as we had some challenging mileage coming up.
