TRAVERSE 118
I encountered families making journeys that had taken months to plan. Elderly men carrying little more than walking sticks. Young couples travelling with children.
For many, these roads represented far more than transport routes. They were pathways to places considered sacred for centuries.
One evening I stayed in a guesthouse filled almost entirely with pilgrims. Despite language barriers,
I found myself sharing dinner with a family travelling to Kedarnath. The grandfather explained that he had dreamed of making the journey for decades. His son had finally arranged it. Now three generations sat around the same table preparing to continue together.
Listening to them, I realised that we were all travelling the same roads for entirely different reasons. I sought adventure. They sought spiritual fulfilment. Neither purpose seemed more valid than the other. That coexistence felt uniquely Uttarakhand.
Further north, the mountains became increasingly dramatic. The valleys narrowed. The rivers grew louder. Snow appeared on distant peaks. At times I would round a corner and find myself confronted by views so vast that I instinctively rolled off the throttle.
TRAVERSE 118