I helplessly looked around me. The road stretched out in a long black wet streak – as if it had just been painted across the washed green and brown canvas of the earth. Caught in the rain since an hour, and caught in it more than once since this morning, I wondered how will I be able to make it to Pune by 9pm. I had 350km to go, 7 hours in hand – and the rain, it seemed, had decided to hold me back for the day. As if she'd been planning this for years, and finally she'd found her prey unprepared. The rain, never had seemed so beautiful, and never had seemed so viciously beautiful.
The run- up:
Loading up my bags, strapping them onto my motorbike and riding away was something that I'd always wanted. That is my definition of a pilgrimage. And I'd been doing so since December 2009. In time my friends grew fond of their metal mistresses, and decided to take them out for worship. And so the plan was born.
With me wanting to celebrate my 25th birthday on the ride, we decided that the sun kissed beaches and the green twisties of Goa would be a fun place to go.
Elaborate planning ensued. Half days in office were spent trying to find a good place to stay, finding out places to roam around, optimal plans, route plans and buying stuff for the ride. Me being me, also included polishing Dominique (that's what I call my motorbike) in the preparatory phase. Since, Dominique stands for God, I decided to equip her with a brighter headlamp, so that when people see me coming on that ride they would get the feeling of seeing “Divine Light” and thereby stay outta my way.
All said and done, a week before the trip, Murphy decided to enforce his laws and for reason beyond the scope of this travelogue (but within the scope of an IT professional's understanding), the trip was canceled. At least, the others had to cancel their plans.
It was as if everything came crashing down, all our plans, and hours of daydreaming in office. Gone. Everything was gone.
And in that moment I decided that I was gonna ride back home.
More than 96hours of travel, 1800Kms of roads and an unimaginable number of memories lay out there waiting.
Highway Star:
Riding alone has always been a pleasure and a scary one at that. And its downright stupid. But all said and done it has its own charm. Knowing this, I started off from Bangalore, with my saddlebags loaded and my backpack strapped to the pillion seat. I had made sure that I wear adequeate protection for the road. Little did I know that I was gonna be proven wrong.
About 2 hours of wading through traffic, and I was outside Bangalore. Soon, I was cruising @ 80 with Dom taking long strides and I watched about a hundred of the stripes marking the median of NH4 being left behind as I continued towards Pune.
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| Stop for coffee Within about 30 minutes, I was at my first scheduled stop – the HP petrol pump 30Km from Tumkur. My brain's first mandatory dose of caffine was delivered. 15 minutes of rest and I was back on my ride again. This time there was a bit of throttle ripping and wild lane cutting – like a ballet with the trucks that dotted the highway. As the sun started to dip beyond the horizon, it became darker and the stripes glowed in Dom's divine light. As milestones zipped by unnoticed, and I effortlessly pulled past trucks, I had a feeling of satisfaction, for this made me feel at home.What kept on nagging me though is the fact that the regular place of stay @ Chitradurga was a dead end. No one was receiving the phone and I was kinda worried bout the night – I couldnt ride 24 hrs straight. Not good for me, not good for Dom. |
I saw a HP pump from a distance, which I thought I could use as a place to rest for a while. I have a solid butt, but(t) it aint made of steel. Given around 30 minutes of rest, and a hot cup of tea, I was recharged to ride further. A few twitter updates, a buzz upload, a call to a dear one and I was off. The highway was bathed in the light of the moon and the stars. And I thumped along.
A few hours later, I was near a milestone “Pune 678”.I stopped Dom, and lit it up. Took a pic, and left. The day was about to end.
I reached Chitradurga without a clue about where I'd be staying. I found another place @ C'Durga, had something to eat and finally said goodnight to Dom and my gear.
As I drifted off to sleep, listening to the hum of the trucks, I could barely have thought what the next day would be like.
Beaten, Black and Blue:
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| Confusion ruling over my head |
When I left Chitradurga in the morning @ 6, the sky was grey and it was slightly humid. Normal October heat. Normal red soil around the highway. Normal reddish blacktop.I had warmed up my bike and set out at a peaceful morning cruising speed of around 70 – 80 km/h. Crossing Davanagere and Harihar, in a slight drizzle, I headed to my preferred breakfast place near Ranebennur. I have hated un-seasonal rains and I hated this equally, but a slight drizzle was okay. I steadily made my way to my breakfast place, around 90km from the place I had started.
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| Breakfast!! |
“Kamat's” - situated at an eeriely empty Reliance petrol pump before Ranebennur serves fresh south indian snacks and nice kaapi. I had my fill of fresh masala dosas and coffee. Came out of the cafe to find the sky growing darker. I prayed to God that it shouldnt rain. I hadnt prayed hard enuf. By the time I was halfway to Hubli, it started drizzling – again. And by the time I was near the bypass, the rain stopped. Lucky I thought.
The Hubli Bypass is a 26 km long two lane road with absolutely nowhere to stop in case of a downpour. Frequented by huge trailer trucks and tankers, its a perfect candidate for a slaughter alley in case of cross winds + rain + speeding (which I always do). I wanted to cover as much distance as I could, given the patch was dry, but I was already cold due to the slight drizzle in the morning. (Yes, my Cramster is designed to protect me from rain, but then at 80km/h, rainwater would be pressed against the fabric and make it through anyway) The water in my gloves and the jacket pressing against my chest made me feel chilly. And that made me drive at a steady speed of around 60km/h. To add to that, the dark clouds converging from both the sides of the road was not a pretty sight.
It was a fair 20-25 minutes before I emerged on the other side of the bypass. Unschated. And then it started pouring. My headlight came on. Visibility was reduced to almost 20m, and I had to slow down. I had nowhere to run. I kept on riding. Soon I reached a petrol pump where i took shelter from the lashing rain. By the time, I was drenched. Not a single piece of cloth on my body was dry. I stepped away from dominique leaving a trail of water wherever I moved. (No, I wasnt peeing! It was pure rainwater.) After a while, the rain decided to take a break, and I decided to ride.
But this time, riding would be excruciating because of the cold I was feeling. I wished that Pune was nearer. I felt beaten. The sky above me was blue, and ahead of me was black. I was gonna ride into the rain.
"If you dont ride in the rain, you dont ride":
I knew I had to make it to Belgaum, befor 2pm. It was already 12.30pm. Rain had taken its toll on my time. I pulled out of the petrol pump where I had stopped. Dominique had cooled down significantly and I felt her note happier to ride out.
Halfway through, on the slightly winding dry stretches before Belgaum, I was overtaking a truck at about 80km/h when a guy on a Pulsar tried to push me into the truck. I was infuriated, but better sense prevailed, and I tried to accelerate further from the ballerina turned motorbike rider. No use. He was there again. And then I decided to do a speed test of Dominique. She pulled away till 110 when I decided to give it a break. I didnt want an engine seizure on the highway.
By this time, the western sky looked dark grey and the horizon was getting closer to us. Within a matter of minutes, it grew dark again. Frighteningly so. And on the not so distant horizon, I saw a bolt from the sky reach down to sting the earth. I swear to God, never in my life have I been so unsure and prayed so hard. I just wanted to clear this patch. Luckily, I managed to get out of there with a decent amount of throttle ripping and focussed riding.
However, I was in for another session with the rain. This time about 20km before Belgaum, heavens opened up. I made it to the nearest service road, and found a mechanic's shop to shelter me and Dom. Water dripped from everything on me and Dom. Curious passerbys asked about the trip and advised me against riding alone. I smiled and assured I'd take care the next time. I knew I wouldnt. I was hoping that my laptop stayed. I stopped looking at the watch and I helplessly looked around me.
The road stretched out in a long black wet streak – as if it had just been painted across the washed green and brown canvas of the earth. Caught in the rain since an hour, and caught in it more than once since this morning, I wondered how will I be able to make it to Pune by 9pm. I had 350km to go, 7 hours in hand – and the rain, it seemed, had decided to hold me back for the day. As if she'd been planning this for years, and finally she'd found her prey unprepared. The rain, never had seemed so beautiful, and never had seemed so viciously beautiful. And I wanted to desperately get out of here.
“If you dont ride in the rain, you dont ride...” is something I had read somewhere. I decided to live upto it. Madness. Yes, but then normal is boring.
I rumbled off, in the rain that had now died to a feeble drizzle. Hurriedly I crossed Belgaum, stopped at a dhaba, informed Neha that I wont be stopping at Belgaum, had a cup of black tea, and rolled off towards Kolhapur.
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| Life saver... Had never craved for tea as much as I did that day.. |
“Thundering towards Pune..”:
I should have been in Kolhapur by 4. I was there at 6. While crossing Tawandi at 100km/h, I thanked my tyres for not giving giving way on the ghat. I had been lucky so far. Kolhapur and the evening signalled a surge of traffic, an increase in gear shifting, irregular throttle jerks and I started using the flasher frantically to signal “I'm overtaking you idiot!”. In the middle of this frenzy, I lost two fuses, had to hand signal myself to the side of a congested NH4, fixed it with no light source and finally crossed Kolhapur and reached a petrol pump for refueling. It was then that I saw a message ffrom Richie - “Dude, where r?”
“Thundering towards Pune...”
And I left in a trail of dust. I dont remember much of the ride into the night, except for crossing the Khambatki ghat tunnel in pitch darkness and stopping near a toll booth to message my friends in Pune to get me something packed.
When I finally saw the Katraj tunnel, I decided that I could push Dom a bit further. The lack of crosswinds, the amazing highway and low traffic helped me acheive 120 before fear of a seizure stopped me. I made it along the bypass and reached Kothrud, to have a filling dinner with friends.
Richie had reached home by then, and Rohit, Richie and me chatted into the night. Finally my body was giving way. 17 hours on the road in the rain and feeling cold was something I had never done before. I decided to call it a day, and went off into a fitfull – though not peacefull sleep.
I did ride with Rohit back to Nagpur, and shocked my father.
However, that is another tale to tell.
