Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Fantabulous!!!!

Cheers,
Sanjay

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Superb narration..!! :-) superb pics.

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Absolutely brilliant writeup. Even though many of my old friends are now cagers and I'm myself a rather infrequent biker, it is true wanderers with a poet's soul and an eagle's eye like you who keep me coming back for this soup for the biker's soul!

/ reminds me of a similar ride I did a decade back, when i had spent the good part of summer on crutches. The day i was allowed to walk by the doctor - I rode from Amdavad to the base of Abu in light rain, complete with two arm-crutches strapped on using bungees. No destination, nothing - I just needed good roads. Rode out late afternoon and was back before dawn with a Wiiiiiiideee grin

// must buy a bike soon. the decade old P180 begs to be retired.

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Day 2




Woke up to the sounds of cars and those of the people. I was at my friend's flat as far as recognised. The last day was a strange day. It was so full of many things, I couldn't believe it ever existed, still left a hefty print on my mind.


Fever. Cough. The throat infection had trickled down to the bronchi. No wonder. Zero marks for guessing. The rate I was doing recklessness with my health since the last 24 hours, I wondered if how I still am not suffering from pneumonia.


With no energy left, yet not to be a burden to my friend, I got up. And with tremendous weakness I left.


Now, they say that doctors should not fall sick. It is not the way it sounds. We are overworked and overexposed. We are bound to get sick. Not that I have a problem with that, I just had to get away from this weakness. And oral antibiotics were not cutting it.


I didn't want my ride to get sabotaged because of some bacteria partying in my throat and bronchi. I wanted to ride. But not at the toll of my health.


So, I went to a medical store, and bought an IV set with the right kind of meds. I was ready to end the party now. Goodbye, streptococci.


Then I did a thing which I should have done a long back.


I went home. Yes, I did. I went home like a shivering dog looking for a shelter. As usual, it was a surprise for them to see their own son arrive home, just to get admitted there. Looking back now, it puts a smile on my face.


I canulated myself, and got the juice flowing in the veins. Felt not-so-good to crawl under from the doctor role and taking up that of a patient. Home food was great.






At evening, when the drip was over, I went to Ajinkyatara Fort for some clicks. I of course rode there, as I still was on a roadtrip, however crippled.







The breeze was cold but it was not raining, at least for the time being. I took advantage and took a trail to walk. It was green, plush and soothing right down to the bones. I used to wander here when I was a kid. Those days. I felt like all these years I have been giving petty excuses to myself and the ones around me, to prove something at every step and forfeiting everything which once was precious to me. I sat down , thinking and sulking. Retrospection is a necessary evil. And it always catches you off-guard.






Climbed down from the hills, and back on the ride. It is fun to ride a bike with a IV line stuck to your left wrist. :-D

Anyway. En route back to home, but I felt a strong urge to go visit the Kanher backwater. For reasons unknown. Maybe I was feeling better to be at the places I have always wanted to be for long, and I was too greedy to cover them all. Maybe it was just pure simple craziness and the high of being free.

I saw this off-road beauty on the way. I wonder where the rider had gone. Probably somewhere uphill watching over his bike from a higher angle.



The backwater is always something weird in my thoughts. It is a result of a man-made obstruction to the flow of river, which makes the inhabitants abandon their villages just to see them submerged in water again. But as a result, electricity and irrigation. One hell of an ethical trade-off. Confused and disoriented, I just took one photo.

[

Rode straight back to home, ate and slept with the evening drip. If my medical college professors had seen this, they would have nodded negatively, severely disapproving my doings, but I was too freaked out to be clinically coherent this time. Next day was going to be even more indecisive.


Day 3


Woke up to the 6am alarm and packed everything in 20 minutes. All the parts of my body were shouting for sleep, but I know myself. I am a lazy bastard. If I don't do something right away, I'll keep it from doing and give shitty excuses about it all the time.

Now I wasn't feeling sleepy. I thought, to hell with everything, let's ride ahead upto the highway and then decide what's gonna happen.

So, I told this to my parents who were woken up by an alien-looking guy in helmet and leather gloves. Surprised, and still half-asleep, they woke up and nodded even more negatively, taking disapproval to a whole new, unseen level. I smirked, ate the lovely breakfast and buzzed off.

It was raining all the time. So I could not take photos.

Went to the NH4 intersection, and took a right


Kolhapur. I was heading to kolhapur.



3 hours later, with a straight-up boring, nonhappening stretch, I arrived. It could have been more interesting, but I was warring with myself all the way if leaving home was a good decision or I should have stayed for couple more days. Afterall, I am not riding for the world to show how tough I am, nor I am doing this to put meaningless kilometres on my bike. I am doing this, because I love it. More than anything. After reaching kolhapur, I happily concluded that this is good.

This is better.


Taking my time, I called up my friend in CPR Hospital, Kolhapur. He was busy, as usual. But then he is a better human being than me, so he took off from his work, just to visit his retard of a friend. We chatted, had great misal pao at gagan baavda, at a location named Baawda Misal. Then he took me to his workplace, where I watched him work like an unleashed dog. With facilities so scarce, the way people work in civil hospitals at not-so-big-towns, serving the poor, relentlessly. I was ashamed of myself a little. I too work in a public hospital, but it at least has some grandeur owing to its location in mumbai. Here it was minimal. And yet no compromise was imposed upon the patient care.


With the day going fast, I bid my friend goodbye, and came outside the CPR Hospital. I had no plans, nothing to do. I was getting better, even.

I took some random road, and it came out to be a road which leads to Radhanagari.

Rode on, stopped for early dinner at some place called Vashi. Hahaha yes, Vashi. Had some real good homemade mutton thaali on enquiry with the locals.

The locals told me about the attractions ahead. People are always willing to talk, only if someone is ready to listen. They were little stigmatized at first, me being some iron-clad motorcyclist. But when you get comfortable with them, and be gentle, and considerate, and be a good listener, most importantly, the people of the rural areas will serve their heads on a platter if the time comes. But you hit them at their wrong nerve, they can be as stubborn as they come. I like to see the better side of people, always.

One guy asked me about my bike. He asked

" You have such a beautiful bullet, looks well maintained, but where is the sound? I could not hear you coming at all ! A bullet is not a bullet if it has no sound. You have no idea how a bullet has to be kept. No loud exhaust, you even have mirrors on! Come on! A real man doesn't need mirrors. It is like a symbol of being afraid. And why on God's Green Earth you don't have foglamps and strobes installed? You don't even have magwheels. "

I smirked. I was nodding the whole time, enjoying this guy's substantial knowledge about show-off and misconceptions of masculinity associated with Royal Enfields.

I was not surprised. I have been through this with well educated and middle aged people who own Royal Enfields and suddenly they are experts on everything. Mostly about how the shitty build quality of RE is justifiable and how bullets are the best bike ever made. (I know, for a fact, that if some RE Worshipper is reading this, is clenching his fists subconsciously, trying to find some point to judge me upon, and take it to a whole personal level. All the best to that.)

Yes. I can openly say that Royal Enfield is one of the worst build quality bike in India. It is a fact. But the torquey engine, comfortable sitting, reasonable mileage, power and metallic construction with 1.5lakh price tag was the best choice for me. And I love my bike. To the Core. I do.

Just because I bought something, doesn't mean I am going to fight tooth and Nail for what is bad in it. I am not going to say words like Bulleteerism or the likes of it. My humble wishes to all those who embrace it. But for those who are going to impose it on me, well, I choose to stay away.

Such thoughts were flying in my mind while the guy was blabbering relentlessly. After a while, he realized that I am not convinced. So he demanded my gloves to inspect, try and probably judge. I refused. I told him,

"This is not a symbol of masculinity, wearing gloves. Real men ride bare handed."

To which he replied innocently -

" No, helmets are for cowards. But the gloves look badass. Gloves are manly. "

I burst off laughing and with little hopes left for a good conversation, left.

Beautiful ghaats ahead, I don't recall the names, but something called Gaibi I guess.





By the time I reached Radhanagri, it was well over 5pm. Before reaching, I took a few photos, but spent most of my time reading the book.





It was utterly scenic and yet I had no idea what to do next. So I thought of going a little further, explore the scenery and return to Radhanagri for the stay.



Riding ahead, I saw a canal-like stream and a very uniform green plain around it. I felt like I have to be here, no matter what. But there was a lot of off-roading involved, in going down to the waters. I could have punctured my tyres and I would be forced to push the bike uphill through large stones of the wet slopes. But it was worth it.



I went downhill as carefully as possible. I slipped for about a dozen times, and plus it was foggy and raining. Still, I managed somehow to reach the plush green plains and the waters. Checked the tyres, and it was okay. Phew.

Panorama first. :P




I tried to photograph but there was not single tree to hide under and the camera got wet in a millisecond. So, like a wet cat, I tried to hide under my bike, trying desparately to wipe the camera. I was stuck for about 20 minutes in that downpour.

But everything happens to serve some good, if you are willing to look for it. The wait was over. Rain diminished.

I got the most beautiful photos of the bike I have ever clicked. You never get such an undisturbed, uniform, perfect background. For a bike.


Nothing could beat the green mattress!



The Sweetheart !



It was too much of a sight to contain in the eyes, forget the camera.








After the photos, I read two more chapters from the book. It was about to get dark.

The ride uphill was even messier. It was a bad decision altogether to go this deep for shits and giggles. I was terrified to do it, I was more than terrified while doing it, but I somehow managed to get back on the tarmac road without a fracture and a puncture.

Like a well behaved schoolboy, I promptly re-entered Radhanagri, found a cheap lodge, which is the only lodge, and for 200 bucks for a special room, manufactured a devilish smile on my face. Resuming my dose with an empty stomach and lost apetite, I slept.

Woke up again in the middle of the night. I was feeling chatty, so went to the manager who was still awake, and asked him about the places nearby worth going over a cup of tea which he had ready in a thermos flask. I like nocturnal folks.



He told me, "Go to Phonda which is just ahead, and then you can go to Panjim directly. Phonda ghaat is great and dangerous, but still better than Amboli ghaat. You can see many waterfalls which are not crowded, (Virgin waterfalls, in his words) and have lots of fun at the corners."

I said, Ok, I'll think upon that. And without thinking anything, went upstairs to sleep off.

Day 4 - Phonda and The Enthralling Company

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Simply brilliant!

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Thank you! Feels great to write! I'm gonna do this more often

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Intelligent and awesome way of narrating the emotions during the ride and the thoughts that keep wandering in our mind...

Reading Book while Riding Bike is the highlight of your writing... Keep going...

Re: Indecisive Ride : Solo

Brilliant and mesmerizing travelogue. Awaiting for more to read..


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