khanezz
Age: 43 
4303 days old here
Total Posts: 15
Location:
Lahore, Pakistan
Status : Offline |
I made it up to Khunjerab Pass a lot later than I had planned. For more than a week, I was stuck in Hunza recovering from a stomach virus and then waiting for a strike from the boaters from Attabaad Lake to end. As I made my way across the lake and up towards the pass, I realized I burnt through my budget more quickly than I had intended to. When I came back down to Hunza after making it to China border, I knew it was seriously time to minimize all expenses if i was planning on having enough fuel for the Vespa to make it back home. I decided to go straight to Lahore without anymore detours and scenic stops and thought that it'd take me a day or 2 at max. That meant it would be more than 35 hours of riding in 48 hours. With barely enough money to feed myself for the next couple of days, I left Hunza at the break of dawn on the 22nd of July. The Vespa "zoomed" through Gilgit and 8 hours later I reached the outskirts of Chilas. Before i could turn the throttle to "zoom" past Chilas as well, the same thing happened to the Vespa that had happened in Allahbaad near Mardan. I was coming down hill in 4th gear when suddenly the engine lost power and the Vespa felt like it was shifted to neutral. 4th gear? no power? No problem. At this point, I was familiar enough with this scenario to know that it was the brake drum that had broken. I had a spare part that was picked up in Mardan so I quickly set to start repairing the damage. I parked on the side of the road, laid the yellow machine on her on her back, and went to work. The rear wheel came off. The brake drum came off. The new drum went on, and the rear wheel was put back into place. I stood her up, first kick...and she fires! I settled onto the seat and shifted into first gear, gassed the mean machine... and nothing. The axle bolts were turning, but the wheel didn't budge. I stood there utterly confused and regretting my overconfidence in fixing the problem. Did i do something wrong?! With a long sigh, I took the wheel off again under the glaring sun. I checked everything and got even more confused because everything was fine. The Vespa was put together once again and another try confirmed that her injuries were worse than I had initially thought. I left the Vespa on the side of the road and walked to a small market close by. Every single mechanic that I found was completely inexperienced with Vespas. They replied to my questions with, "Vespa?? what are you talking about? We only work on motorcycles, 125cc Honda only.." It was the same response mechanic after mechanic. With dimming hope, I decided to return to my Vespa and drag her up the hill to the market so that I wouldn't have to explain what a "Vespa" was and maybe one mechanic would be able to do something. Instead of receiving blank stares, I was now showered with laughter. I don't know if the mechanics found my yellow scooter cool or stupid, but at least they were laughing and so I joined them. I laughed because I seemed to have reached a dead-end. What do i do??!? I thought about my mechanic in Lahore, so i called him. I gave him a detailed explanation of the problem and all that I had done to try to fix it. After I told him that all the fixing was in vain and the Vespa was still dead, he added thunder to the rain and proceeded to tell me that he had some very bad news. "The rear axle (engine-shaft) of your Vespa is broken from inside the engine and the closest shop that would be able to fix this would be in Islamabad." Of course no one north of Islamabad would ever own a Vespa; they just aren't meant for the roads here. Even if I was able to get the scooter to the closest big city, it'd still be another dead end. I was getting desperate so I asked him about the possibility of him sending me the parts needed and I'd fix it myself. He brought me back to reality by telling me that it was an impossible task with the tools I was carrying, "but if you stay on the phone with me?!?!" I could hear his head shaking back and forth through the phone telling me NO. Of course my idea wasn't one bit logical. Getting parts from Lahore would take 3 days minimum. I would have to buy them with money i didn't have, and starve for the few days I would have to wait for the shipping and receiving. It would've taken way too long and by the time the Vespa was ready to be ridden again and I would have been in debt to the hotel for room and food. I called my dad, told him the axle had broken, and nearly whined that fixing it was not possible. He started laughing and said, "The poor vespa served you well. You achieved your targets so now it's just a straight road home to Lahore. Rent a truck and come home." ARGH! If I left home on the Vespa, I wanted to come home on the vespa. This was the worst feeling I've yet experienced on the trip. Giving up is never an option. Nothing stops me from finishing what I started... neither broken bones nor broken bikes has kept me from my goal... I'm used to riding back home and not hitching a ride. but i knew it was time to acknowledge that this was the end of the road. I asked around in search of a trucker that was able to take both my Vespa and i back to Islamabad and found one that quoted me the price of 25,000 Rupees. haha!! I had only 1/6 of that.. so that was no longer an option. I spotted a small truck that was clamoring by the market heading towards Chilas, the big town. I loaded the vespa, got to chilas, and tried one last time to find a mechanic that could help. Nothing. No one. The mechanics were so unfamiliar with this machine that I was asked where the gears were located and where the clutch was. Sorry Vespa, being so rare is an unfortunate quality in these parts. I was stuck. It must've been at least 5 hours that I stood in Chilas just trying to figure out what to do. It was when evening came around and everyone started coming out to break their fast when I bumped into Hifazat Ullah.. He worked at Natco Bus Service, and after listening to my story he smiled and told me that he'd take 4000 rupees to transport both my Vespa and I back to Islamabad on the bus. 16 straight hours back into the city and I could fix my ride there, not bad..not bad at all. The only thing was, spending 4000 rupees meant that I'd be emptying my pockets into his hands and be penniless in Islamabad. I cheekily asked him if there was any way he'd give me a discount, and after a moment's hesitation, he said, "only if you have a student ID card." I told him, "No, no student ID...but me, a student? Yes, of course." He told me to show him an ID even though I had already confessed i didn't have one. I showed him my California Driver's License and said it was for a California University.. He nodded, smirked, and said, "Ok, 50% off. You're a guest in my city so i will give you 50% off. You didn't fool me, I know that isn't a university card but I'll just let it slide. 2000 rupees, from Chilas to Islamabad." I kept quite for a while, weighing all of my options. The only choice I had was just made easier with a discount, but yet, I felt sick to my stomach with the fact that the Vespa's wheels weren't going to be the ones taking me back down south. I sat for some time, battling to admit defeat. It was 9pm and I was still sitting stubbornly when a bus passed in front of me and honked loudly. Hifazut Ullah came running and informed me that it was the last bus for the night and if I didn't hop on, I'd be spending the night in a hotel. I gave him a look as something dawned upon me. There was no space in the bus for the Vespa. He told me nonchalantly that of course the Vespa was going to be going up on top of the bus. My mood changed as excitement started building up inside of me. Are you serious?!? How the hell would they get this heavy machine up on the rooftop of the bus there? Hifazut Ullah shooed me away as my inquisitive questions started spilling out of my mouth. He told me to leave them to their work, and not to worry about a single thing.. I moved out of the way, took out my camera, and recorded them working their magic on getting my heavy machine on top of the bus. Let's not talk about the 15 hours of torture inside the bus. We left Chilas late into the night, and didn't arrive until noon the next day. Not a second's worth of sleep the whole night. About 25 hours later, I made it to Lahore, back to home just as my family was getting ready to break their fast. I entered the house with a silly half broken smile and everyone just started clapping. Baba spoke up and said, "I'm proud of you for what you did with what you had.. You set off on a vespa, with very little money, and a lot of heart. You achieved what you set out to do. You can save up, fix up your ride, and go again whenever you want to. Not riding it back home is no big deal." We all sat around, had iftari, and then for about an hour or so I showed them the crazy videos i recorded. I'll post them as soon as they're edited. Nothing ever goes as planned. The 22 days I spent exploring my country deepened my love for Pakistan. This land holds such majestic wonders and beautiful people. Everyday I was given a lesson in life and I came home more humbled and thankful than ever. The most important lesson I was taught on this trip was the fact that failure is something that's not meant to be feared. Go for it even when everyone around you gives you doubt, tells you that you can't, or mentions the word impossible. Failing gives you experience, and with that experience, you will surely succeed the next time you try. Here are some pictures that i hadnt posted yet. I have a bunch of video footage that im getting edited by film students from NCA, hopefully itll come out amazing.. till then... Pakistan Zindabad
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