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The bug to travel on bikes bit me inadvertently, some ten years back, when I chanced to ride pillion with a group of riding-junkies in Southern India. They dragged me some 1200 km, over three days, of which one full day was sight-seeing—for them anyways; I was content sleeping my butt-pain away. Nevertheless, after the ordeal, it occurred to me that despite the pain, I had achieved something that I had never ever dreamt. The freedom of open roads, clean hills, and being with the elements was markedly different from my routine—closed board meetings, air-conditioned rooms, and schedules. So then it was that I decided to learn how to ride a bike.
Started with a twice-owned TVS Fiero. At that time, I did not know the clutch from the gear. Took me 6 months to dare touch the 3rd gear. But as things go, I got the hang of it slowly. And the little time that I could squeeze out from my daily routine, saw me slowly learn the necessary skills. Accidents happened—sometime funny, at times not so. Dropped my bike from a standing position, for I forgot to put on the side stand while letting go! Applied full brakes on suddenly seeing a bump. That one kept me bed-ridden for a month. I learnt a new term called ABS after the fall. Damn, I wish I had not gone for a non-abs bike! Soon after, when I was able to walk again, my Fiero was gone and I got a new TVS, this one with dual ABS. By a happy stroke of luck, the new TVS happened to be the offspring of the Fiero, by the name of Apache RTR. And that it was all black, as was my fiero, was another of my special bonds. The Fiero had taken me on my first highway ride, a 90 km morning ride to Mahabalipuram. It had helped me explore all of old Chennai. I explored a lot of pristine beaches along East Coast Road, and I got to take a lot of pictures. Somehow, the Fiero to this day, is a favourite of mine. But now it was time to move on.
With the RTR, things have been different. I have gone 300-400 km in a day on numerous occasions. I have learnt to be responsible with my riding. The RTR has seen me invest in riding gear. Together with the ABS of the bike, they have largely made me a more sedate rider, which suits my age as well. For niggles have been aplenty, of late. Neck-pain on rides (due to wind-blast and the heavy helmet) is one such ailment that I wish I could put down during the ride. There’s the constant buzz at my hands, due to the natural vibes of the engine. As a result, I prefer to stop every hour, and while it soothes the body considerably, it does slow me down. 400kms on National Highways, is my upper limit. Could be paltry, I understand, compared to many riders I have heard of. But it is what it is, and I need to learn to live with that. I am not particularly concerned about that though, for what I lack in distance, I make up in time. My riding forces me to plan in such a way so as to have time at hand. I do not mind taking a 7 day off, to go from Chennai to Kolkata, a distance of 1600 km. Too easy, maybe. But it’s unhurried and that serves me well.
Recently, I was watching the movie, “Lawrence of Arabia”. There were these tribesmen, the Bedouins. They traverse the desert, the year round, in sun and dust, in thirst and sand. When I compare with the modern bikes on modern roads, I start respecting these uncelebrated, perpetual travellers. And instantly, my bodyaches and mental misery at the end of a ride, start evaporating away slowly. And I look forward to when I can find time for my next ride.
Started with a twice-owned TVS Fiero. At that time, I did not know the clutch from the gear. Took me 6 months to dare touch the 3rd gear. But as things go, I got the hang of it slowly. And the little time that I could squeeze out from my daily routine, saw me slowly learn the necessary skills. Accidents happened—sometime funny, at times not so. Dropped my bike from a standing position, for I forgot to put on the side stand while letting go! Applied full brakes on suddenly seeing a bump. That one kept me bed-ridden for a month. I learnt a new term called ABS after the fall. Damn, I wish I had not gone for a non-abs bike! Soon after, when I was able to walk again, my Fiero was gone and I got a new TVS, this one with dual ABS. By a happy stroke of luck, the new TVS happened to be the offspring of the Fiero, by the name of Apache RTR. And that it was all black, as was my fiero, was another of my special bonds. The Fiero had taken me on my first highway ride, a 90 km morning ride to Mahabalipuram. It had helped me explore all of old Chennai. I explored a lot of pristine beaches along East Coast Road, and I got to take a lot of pictures. Somehow, the Fiero to this day, is a favourite of mine. But now it was time to move on.
With the RTR, things have been different. I have gone 300-400 km in a day on numerous occasions. I have learnt to be responsible with my riding. The RTR has seen me invest in riding gear. Together with the ABS of the bike, they have largely made me a more sedate rider, which suits my age as well. For niggles have been aplenty, of late. Neck-pain on rides (due to wind-blast and the heavy helmet) is one such ailment that I wish I could put down during the ride. There’s the constant buzz at my hands, due to the natural vibes of the engine. As a result, I prefer to stop every hour, and while it soothes the body considerably, it does slow me down. 400kms on National Highways, is my upper limit. Could be paltry, I understand, compared to many riders I have heard of. But it is what it is, and I need to learn to live with that. I am not particularly concerned about that though, for what I lack in distance, I make up in time. My riding forces me to plan in such a way so as to have time at hand. I do not mind taking a 7 day off, to go from Chennai to Kolkata, a distance of 1600 km. Too easy, maybe. But it’s unhurried and that serves me well.
Recently, I was watching the movie, “Lawrence of Arabia”. There were these tribesmen, the Bedouins. They traverse the desert, the year round, in sun and dust, in thirst and sand. When I compare with the modern bikes on modern roads, I start respecting these uncelebrated, perpetual travellers. And instantly, my bodyaches and mental misery at the end of a ride, start evaporating away slowly. And I look forward to when I can find time for my next ride.
