When I asked Hayley Bell about the best ride she had ever taken, she did not hesitate: Shimshal Valley, Pakistan.

But Hayley did not only describe the beauty of the mountains in Pakistan being almost inconceivable, she took time to describe the emotional mountain she was climbing at the same time. 

See, Hayley is afraid of heights. 

Not mildly uncomfortable. Not the kind of hesitation most people feel when they approach a steep edge. The kind of fear that can turn the third step of a ladder into a panic attack.

Hayley rides almost everything. Enduro is where she spends most of her time, but that hardly limits the list. She has ridden motocross tracks, traveled on adventure bikes, spent time on street machines, and more recently has been spending time on her trials bike with her daughter. 

If something has two wheels, she will ride it. 

Hence how she found herself across the world in Pakistan. The mountain she would climb sits fifteen thousand feet above the valley floor. The road that leads up is carved directly into the cliff face. A narrow dirt track clings to the side of the mountain with no guardrails and very little room for mistakes. Loose rock litters the surface. Landslides are common. Traffic moves in both directions, but there is only one lane for traffic going up or down. 

For most people the solution would be simple. Do not ride that road. (myself included)

The bike Hayley rode there was not exactly designed for the job either. It was a Honda Atlas 125, the sort of small commuter motorcycle you would normally see weaving through city traffic rather than climbing mountain cliffs.

Skinny tires.

Drum brakes.

Simple suspension.

Hayley calls it her mountain goat, because it simply refuses to quit.

“It is kind of a hunk of junk,” she laughed. “But you point it somewhere and it goes.”

Standing on the pegs felt awkward. The handlebars sat too low for proper off-road riding. Everything about the motorcycle suggested it was built for anywhere besides the side of a mountain. 

But the little Atlas kept climbing.

The terrain itself was challenging but manageable for someone with an enduro background. Large rocks scattered across the road and loose sand in the corners forced constant line choices. 

For Hayley, that part of the ride was familiar, the real challenge sat just a few feet away. 

Fifteen thousand feet of open air and with no guard rail, the opportunity to fall was always present. 

Before the trip she had tried to prepare for that in her own way. Near her home there is an aqueduct that crosses a deep valley. The first time she attempted to walk across it, the crossing took four hours.

She would take a few steps forward. Stop. Turn around. Try again.

Little by little she made it across. That, in her mind, was training.

But Hayley was not riding alone. Hayley was traveling with a group of women, and some of them shared the same fear of heights. Whether anyone said it out loud or not, they were watching how she handled the road.

Leadership on a ride does not always come from confidence. Sometimes it comes from being the calmest one.

If she lost control of her nerves, the tension would ripple through the group, so she did what off-road riders do when things get overwhelming, she focused on the terrain.

Off-road riding demands attention. Your brain is constantly calculating line choice, traction, body position, throttle, rocks, corners, and the possibility of traffic appearing around the next blind bend.

As long as she stayed focused on the next obstacle, her brain did not have time to imagine the drop beside her.

There is GoPro footage from the ride that she still laughs about, and If you watch it with the sound turned off, it looks like a beautiful mountain ride. A motorcycle moving slowly along a narrow dirt road surrounded by enormous peaks.

But if you have the privilege of listening to it with the audio on, you hear the beautiful sounds of Hayley panic-singing her way along the cliff.

Somewhere along that road the fear began to soften under the weight of concentration. The terrain demanded so much attention that the height slowly became part of the background.

Which allowed her to appreciate the beauty of the moment. 

The mountains in northern Pakistan do not simply look big. They feel unreal. Towering rock faces rise straight out of the ground. 

“They look like Avatar.” Hayley said. Mountains so massive they almost feel fictional.

The road forces you to see them. It curves around the cliffs so tightly that avoiding the view is impossible.

You look at it whether you want to or not.

The trip was part of an event called Chick-a-stan, organized by Liza Miller and Moon Khan to bring women riders into Pakistan and challenge the stereotypes many people carry about the country.

Before visiting, Hayley pictured deserts and endless sand, instead she found mountains that seemed to stretch forever.

And people who welcomed riders with warmth and curiosity.

“Of all the places I have ridden,” she told me, “Pakistan is my favorite place to ride.”

Part of that love comes from the unpredictability. Every day carries the possibility of something unexpected.  Landslides appear without warning. Trucks round blind corners. Potholes open wide enough to swallow a wheel.

Years before the Pakistan ride, Hayley had already left a mark on the global riding community. In 2018 she launched the Women’s World Relay, a year-long motorcycle relay that passed a physical baton between female riders across the globe. We recently covered the rally, linked HERE.  

The relay traveled through 102 countries and involved more than twenty thousand female riders. Today that spirit continues through a digital relay where riders meet in person and pass a virtual baton through an app, lighting up a global map as connections happen around the world.

Between creating global movements in the riding world and tackling mountains in Pakistan, Hayley has another great love…her daughter. 

These days Hayley’s garage looks a little different than it once did. She is a single mother, raising a toddler who already seems destined to grow up around motorcycles. Most of the bikes at home belong to her daughter, small electric bikes that she rides around the garden. Hayley alongside her, teaching her the skills she has collected along the way. 

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