‘Margan top, of course!’ he declared. ‘Now that you have done Sinthan top, you must do the other high pass. It’s a very nice place.’


I had indeed heard about Margan pass - and I was very keen to do it. The name is a bit of a downer - it literally means ‘Place where you die’ or ‘Place of dead bodies’ - because it used to be a dangerous and treacherous road. Or maybe it was just the villagers on the other side of pass trying to scare off people who might want to visit them! But of course, it was tamed and road-ed now, and so was no longer all that dangerous.
Of course, it is quite a high pass, at 14000 feet - and gets totally snowed up and blocked during winter - so one should take normal common-sense precautions. But in summer, it should be a nice scenic place to visit.
I vroom-vroomed out of Kokernag and immediately felt better! What a lovely ride! What could be better than a nice scenic ride on this lovely day. The ride was not too long, and not all that difficult - just complex enough to make it interesting. And I should be back in time for a comfortable chai in the evening.
And the views were awesome! As the road wound up and higher, the scenery got better and better. I have always had ‘time to stand and stare’ when I ride.
I finally reached the top! WOOHOO!
It was not a scenic place like Sinthan top, unfortunately. It was a saddle pass - with mountains on both sides, so there were no views as such. You had to feel happy by reading a rather faded signpost - which said ‘WELCOME’ - and the rest was all faded, so you had to really peer at it to figure out what you are being welcomed to!
The words in black paint were very clear - WELCOME and then a lot of numbers - 25 km, 37 km, 32 km, etc - and finally the last line was signed with the name of the government department and the Public Works Department authority.  To my surprise, it said that the altitude was was 12100 feet, rather than the 14000 odd I had expected.
The pass had the feel of a meadow or plateau rather than a summit - with beautiful green grasslands on both sides of the road.
The road itself was a muddy mess, as they were digging it up (Of course they were. They dig up roads wherever I go.) and trying to concrete it or whatever.
The tourism department had apparently planned to develop this spot as a tourist attraction and had started to build a collection of tourist bungalows to stay in - but they were not completed yet, and so only the caretakers and security guards were enjoying the views.
I could see some enthusiastic travellers who had taken their SUV into the meadows and were having a lovely picnic by the side of a stream. That looked so tempting!
I started on my return journey and stopped wherever I could, to soak in the views. At one place, there was a particularly nice view of the road below and you could see the steep downslope and the numbers of loops and switchbacks I would be taking on the way down. What a lovely sight!

Aha! Aha!
I was admiring the lovely view of the steep and winding road with the loops and switchbacks - and no safety railing or cement side blocks - when I pressed the front brake - and imagine my shock when it I found that it was completely dead! The lever went straight to the bottom with no bite at all!

THE FRONT BRAKE WAS DEAD!
AND I WAS ALREADY GOING DOWN ON THAT WINDING ROAD AT HIGH SPEED!
AAAAARRRGGHHH!

It was quite a task as I wound down the …er…winding roads and steep slopes - luckily there wasn’t much traffic to worry about. I heaved a deep sigh as I finally saw the village after negotiating the loops.


Saved!
Ah! A mechanic!

Saved!
Not.
The fellow tried his best - he opened the the front brake mechanism and fiddled with it for hours, but finally confessed that  it was beyond his powers and I should find a more competent guy.
Another false prophet. Bah.
At least I was safe back at my hotel!
All’s well that ends well.