extensive and intimate knowledge of the country ’ s people and places . He ’ s is more than just my bhai , or little brother , he is the lens through which I see his natal Nepal .
Since the Himalayas love to foil a good plan , we plotted our route in pencil , but with one primary objective , to seek out the most well-preserved communities in the west . Nepal ’ s cultural landscape is astoundingly diverse with more than 100 castes , tribes , and ethnic groups speaking as many unique languages . Some groups , like the Brahman and Magar , measure in the millions . Others like the elusive Raute nomads , number in the dozens , or once did . In 2019 we found the last of their tribal encampments along the edge of a thick forest , where for 900 years they lived in blissful harmony with nature . It was an exciting , albeit somber encounter knowing we caught them in the twilight of their existence . To the best of our knowledge they are all but disbanded now . In anthropological context we watched their society vanish right before our eyes .
With our tanks topped off we scribbled a route through the streets of Nepalgunj to a road follow-ing the Bheri River . After an hour dodging deep holes in broken pavement the road morphed into a tangle of tyre ruts set in dried mud . I have learned over the years never to complain about Nepal ’ s road conditions . Whether wet , dry , muddy , or dusty , they can always get worse , and usually do . The best course of action is to embrace the challenge , drop into first gear , and tractor on . As much as I love modern adventure bikes , not even the worst of Nepal ’ s roads halt the donkey-like fortitude of a Royal Enfield Classic . For more than 75 years its thumping cadence has announced the arrival of riders throughout the Great Himalayan Range . To pilot anything else would feel less authentic to me .
Three days into our ride we crossed a bridge and slowly ascended a section of steep switchbacks . The first in our group to crest the summit , I rounded a turn and immediately stomped on the rear brake . One by one , each member of our team pulled alongside me . We couldn ’ t believe our eyes . Stretched out before us on either side of the narrow road , more than a thousand villagers in traditional Chettri dress stood quietly , waiting to receive us . No sooner had we removed our helmets , unaware of what to do next , a troop of drummers and dancers started advancing up the road . Within minutes we were swallowed by the crowd .
Through a sea of smiles and curious faces , a group of elders appeared to extend polite bows and salutations . Their wives draped our necks with heavy strands of marigolds while blessing us with
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