The truck traffic was heavy and Lara was starting to get angry at them already, this was way before the normal schedule of anger during the day, she was falling behind and just did not look the least bit interested in being there. I think it was time for a team talk.
We stopped at the next dabha to discuss options. It was obvious that she was not enjoying it. What was the point of doing something you do not enjoy? There was no one forcing us to ride here. We laid all the options out for her, we could pick up a lift to take us to Leh and do other activities in Leh, trekking, climbing, rafting and a whole heap of other activities. Any one who knows Lara, they must know she is the most stubborn living being when she wants to be. She decided she wanted to carry on by bike. Scott and I were both quietly relieved.
So we set off, the temperature was again getting very high and the place was getting dryer and dryer. Thankfully the volume of trucks had reduced and the road surface was good so quick progress was made.
Lara with her new positive thinking and mask to aid her fight against the trucks.
The valley soon widened out and the views were fantastic, the road passing under our tyres quickly, a great view and everyone's moods picked up and the previous conversation was soon forgotten.
More dodgy bridges were crossed and we soon got to the bottom of the climb, the 'Gata Loops'. My internet research had told me theses are 21 hair pin turns that went on for 9km. We stopped at the bottom to eat some food and drink some water, keen to get it inside us rather than carry it on the bike. The 7 litres of water we where carrying each was definitely noticeable when you pedalled. As we were sitting there eating, our friends the Spanish rocked up. Luiz and Pepe from Barcelona. Was great to see friendly faces; we chatted and caught up and exchanged bad words about the trucks. Then we could not procrastinate any longer, and we all started up the Loops.
Pepe on his way up. Now, what the map does not tell you is that after the Gata loops, there is still another 9km and 400 vertical metres of climbing to be done to another false summit called Naleeka Pass at 4980m. We found this out from Luiz who had done this ride before. Now the map had become the enemy. Lara wanted to burn it, Scott wanted to smoke it and I had just enough will power to hide it away to be used again the next day and protect it from the other two. After Lara's earlier distress she somehow managed to zoom up the loops. Scott and I put it down to her music choice of Metallica and Queens of the Stone Age.
After 4 hours of riding up hill we finally saw the prayer flags in the distance, a welcome sight.
From here we knew it was downhill to a little bit called Whiskey Nula, no dhabas or settlements, just a valley floor with a name. The relief and happiness of getting to the top of another pass was enough to drown out the pain that we had just gone through. 
Lara's bum was getting sore now from long days in the saddle so she tried the old roadie trick of double shorts. To anyone who has worn cycle shorts (I am sure most have) then you can imagine what it must feel like. Scott and I tried to suppress and hide our giggling at her new John Wayne walk.
Setting off on the down hill to our rest stop that night, the picture above shows the next day's climb up to the Lachalung La pass at 5100m (the second highest of the trip). Our goal was the valley floor only a few hundred metres vertical down.
After 10 minutes we were down at where we were to camp for the night. Our highest camping spot of the trip 4815m (higher than the tallest mountain in Western Europe). Again the tour group was there with there chefs and toilets (us jealous? never). Shortly after we arrived the Spanish arrived and we all camped together. We always wondered what they were carrying as they had front and back panniers, we only had rear panniers. So what they hell could they be carrying... We soon found out what, when they whipped out their pressure cooker, all sorts of amazing looking dried meats and spanish cheese. Once again we were jealous.
Us being the weight weenies that we are, we only carried freeze dried food, you know the sort astranauts carry in case of emergencies. So we followed the instructions to our powdered Shepherd's pie. As I glanced into the packet all I could see was powder, how the hell could this turn into a decent meal. I glanced over at the Spanish and their wonderful food. After I had added my 300ml of water, a miracle of modern science and cuisine happened. Can some one please answer me how the f*ck powder turns into fluffy mash potato and meat?!?!!? The meal was not half bad at all and we were all very happily fed.
The night's meal was not a complete wash out, Pepe and Luiz are such lovely friendly people they gave us loads of their Serrano ham to share. Truly lovely people seeing as they had been lugging it with them the whole way.
Ed came over for a chat, one of his group had gotten bad altitude sickness and had been but on oxygen and driven to a lower altitude. Not a good sign. This was the last time we were to see Ed, as they planned on covering much greater distances than us. So we wished him fairwell and thanked him for the water he stealthily stole for us from his camp supply.
We chatted for a wee while with Luiz and Pepe and as the sun went down we all retired to bed. I once again suffered from 'I forgot to breath' and woke up all through the night. On one occasion I was awoken by a rapid zip noise coming from Scott's tent and then foot steps running off into the distance. Strange I thought.
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