There is a sort of bleakness in this stretch of road that gets under the skin. Pang is a collection of tents and tea stalls rather than a village, and around it the earth turns the colour of rust and bone. Everything here is open to the sky, and the weather can switch from sunshine to snow in an hour.
The riding is demanding in a way that has nothing to do with traffic. The road climbs in long, steep stretches over passes such as Lachulung La and then spreads out across the flat, wind-scoured plain known as the More Plains, a dead-straight run of tens of kilometres with mirages shimmering ahead. The surface can be good tarmac one moment and torn gravel the next, and streams cross the road after warm afternoons. Wind in the open plain can be punishing, and the thin air makes engines run weak, so expect your bike to lose power and take things gently.
This is the Changthang edge, the high country that stretches east toward Tibet. Nomadic herders, the Changpa, move their pashmina goats and yaks across the plateau, living in black yak-hair tents in summer. Wild asses, the kiang, are sometimes seen grazing on the plains, and marmots whistle from burrows along the roadside. The geology is spectacular, with folded layers of sedimentary rock lifted high and carved by wind.
Practicalities are minimal. Fuel is not on offer, so you rely on what you carry from Keylong or Tandi, and water is best bought in sealed bottles. Tea stalls serve noodles and omelettes, and the simple meal tastes better than anywhere. Temperatures at night fall well below freezing even in summer, and the daytime sun burns the skin at this altitude, so cover up. Leave early and arrive early, and keep a close eye on the sky.