Ellie Cooper, Author and Adventurer

Ellie Cooper’s debut book Waiting for Mango Season charts her two-wheeled trek across the Himalayas during lockdown on a Rusty Royal Enfield. Of all the epic mountain passes “The Cliff-Hanger” is the one that counts as her favourite detour.

“It was a fitting name – the overhanging, cavernous cliff-face looked like multiple gigantic claws, ready to grab a rider at any point.”

— Ellie Cooper

“From snowy mountain peaks to lush green jungle to dusty dirt roads, India is an ever-changing landscape and a dream riding destination. Of all the Northern Indian Mountain passes I had conquered on my Royal Enfield motorcycle, The Cliff-hanger was the most memorable, terrifying, and satisfying detour of them all.

I was travelling in the Himalayas in the state of Jammu and Kashmir, on my way to Dharamshala. I had heard about this road from many a seasoned motorcyclist, but not many I knew had tried it, and some had turned back. It had claimed a few lives over the years, usually during the Monsoon where landslides plagued the mountainsides.

The Cliff-hanger, soon to be closed for the winter, was part of National Highway 26 and nicknamed by the locals. It was somewhat of a legendary shortcut, whispered about in motorcycle hang-out spots all over India. It was a hidden cut-through from Kishtwar National Park where larger vehicles could not go, and so not usually found in travel guides.

It was a fitting name – the overhanging, cavernous cliff-face looked like multiple gigantic claws, ready to grab a rider at any point, and the 2000 feet drop to one side was equally worrying, with the mighty Chenab River meandering far below.

The pass was about to close for the Winter, and I had made it just in time as I rode up to the fraying piece of rope which cordoned off the route. The road was under construction and open for only two precious hours per day. This meant a bit of a race through to the other side, to make it before the sun set.

Tourists in India are usually escorted through the mountains in gigantic, pristine Mahindra Thar’s which were thankfully a tad too wide for this pass. As the looming, Bollywood-thumping four-wheel drives took the speedier and safer motorway, I thanked my stars that this unpaved, off-roading gem was reserved for locals, biking fanatics, the odd shepherd and their goats, and now me and my Enfield.

As I peered round the edges of the rope, waiting for a local to wake from his daily nap and to grant me permission to pass through, I caught a glimpse of the start of the cliff. I watched pebbles skitter down the sheer drop as skimming stones occasionally tumbled from above. I wondered if I would make it to the other side with my bike intact.

Having taught myself to ride in India, I could see no better way to see the Himalayas than by thundering engine. All my possessions were strapped to my luggage rack with a tureen of cold mountain water, some matches to make a fire by the roadside, and a few packets of Moong Dal; this kind of life was one I had always dreamt of living – it felt like true freedom, with an itinerary which was often decided by the flip of a coin.

I set off, bouncing from rock to rock as I twisted and turned through the bends, up the steepest of inclines where my tires slid on the fine sand. I dared not look over the drop to my right, but as the wind buffeted my motorbike towards the edge and my tires hit every kind of road surface, I realised my grip on my handlebars was a little tighter than usual.

It was worth every second of the short few hours ride along the blind corners and hairpins. The pine trees scented the air, a lack of rails around the jagged edges added to the thrill, and as I caught sight of eagles soaring alongside me, I felt that I was flying, too.

I paused for a second as I descended into the darkening forest and looked back at the vista; the cliff face had turned to black, spiky ridges in the distance, as if this whole experience was sealing itself away like the secret it was. The Cliff-hanger will remain hidden, only discovered by those who follow the whispers, but for those who do, it might be considered a favourite detour for life.”

Waiting for Mango Season by Ellie Cooper is available now. You can also follow Ellie’s adventures on Twitter.

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