ADVENTURE SERIES
A collection of QUOC rider stories from the front lines of monumental cycling efforts. From cross-country ultras and bikepacking epochs to intense Everesting challenges, the series documents the raw pursuit of pushing human limits, using the bike as a tool for ultimate exploration.
Moritz Lorenz: A Spiritual Return to The Urgam Valley
For this chapter of QUOC’s Adventure Series, we follow Moritz Lorenz as he returns to India with friend and photographer, Leon, fifteen years after first passing through. Drawn back by a shared instinct for capturing quiet moments — when familiar places feel newly altered and invite something deeper — their journey leads beyond Rishikesh and into the remote Urgam Valley. Shaped by broken roads, thin air and a couple of mishaps along the way, the route is a reminder that chaotic paths often lead somewhere worth reaching. With one working bike, a handful of chance encounters, and four cameras loaded with film, they set out to document a slower rhythm of life. What follows is a collection of words and photographs that hold the dust, light, and human warmth of the Himalayan road.
After 15 years, I no longer recognized Rishikesh (made famous by the Beatles, who practiced yoga there in 1968). It had been largely taken over by yoga and self-discovery tourism and had little in common with the magical little town I had encountered during my world trip in 2008.
So I was quite happy to leave the place again the very next day and continue on to the Urgam Valley.
After a seven-hour drive through breathtaking mountain landscapes and adventurous, winding roads with our Indian Formula 1 driver (we weren’t overtaken even once :)), the car horn cleared our way between buses and trucks – many of them carrying hand-painted messages on their backs in ornate lettering: Horn OK Please!
Eventually we reached the Urgam Valley. There, our luggage and bikes were loaded onto two mules, and we hiked up to our accommodation, YogMatra, run by the wonderful Johanna and Sash, who opened the guesthouse three years ago and lovingly restored it from an old traditional house.
“People in the Urgam Valley carry within themselves a calmness that has nothing to prove.”
- Moritz
As the evening sun turned the 6,000-meter peaks pink, we sipped our chai, feeling happy and at peace.
I went on the bike rides by myself, since Leon had been diagnosed with a slipped disc just a week before our trip, and we only had one bike left anyway because the chainstay of the other one had broken during transport.
The rides were beautiful, but the rocky paths and the large embedded stones made them very challenging. In the Urgam Valley, people don’t care whether you pass by on a modern carbon bike with top-notch gear. They know no envy, nor do they give you puzzled looks. They carry within themselves a calmness that has nothing to prove.
In India you have to be inventive — especially in a remote place like the Urgam Valley.
Forgot your Wahoo mount? No problem, someone will make one for you. In this case it was Mehit, who, in true MacGyver fashion, even managed to revive an absolutely miserable, ancient bike pump and get it working again. That little miracle saved my rides, since I had forgotten my own pump in Germany and the air had to be released from the tires for the flight.
“We met people who work tirelessly for a living, who don’t have much but still radiate a warmth that stays with you.”
- Moritz
Days on the road in India end with dusty miles, hot chai, and a dog who decides you’re his person for the afternoon.
Traveling through India means being surrounded by an endless variety of flavors, where every region offers its own culinary identity. From sizzling street-food stalls bursting with spices and mouthwatering aromas to traditional dishes layered with history, Indian food turns every step of the journey into a sensory feast.
Along the way we met people who work tirelessly for a living, who don’t have much but still radiate a warmth that stays with you.
Their kindness, their strength, and the smiles they shared with us are woven into these analog photos – and into all the ones still to come.
As soon as the sun disappeared behind the hills in the Urgam Valley, we all sat together around the campfire. There was no heating. Every piece of wood that was burned had to be collected in woven baskets from the deep forest — only fallen branches — and carried back to the shelter."
Follow Moritz here
