Crossing the bridge into North Sikkim, Tibetan flags flutter in the air, the roads become trails and there are many waterfalls to cross the road.

The paths sink into the mountains, following rivers and cliffs flank.

The villages are spaced and the population is becoming scarce day by day the rains fall increasingly on the dense forest, and black clouds cover the sky in the afternoon.

The alarm rings early to offer a spectacular view of the white peaks of the Himalayan giants.

The foundation hosts become ubiquitous in approaching the Chinese border. The Northern State grant us a permit for one of the most beautiful border roads.

Blocked to the north by landslides caused by monsoon, the roads are closed and we travel the Yumtang Valley, perched 3500 meters above sea level in the greatest solitude.

Oxygen is scarce reaching « Zero Point », at 4600 meters above the sea. The head starts to hurt and motorcycles are coughing. The road stops here. In front of us, behind us, around us, only the snowy peaks. The Indian flag flew between our motorcycles. We traveled 5000 km today across the country.