As a doctor by profession, it has always been a task for me to take time off from work, especially working in a BMC Public Hospital, and suddenly I was blessed with 7 days of accumulated CLs which I had to take or let go.
Needless to say, the news was popped to me one day before by the gloomy clerk whom nobody ever knows.
Finishing the day's work with a surprising speed, and leaving the unfinished work for my colleagues, I came back to the quarters. Thinking, where to go for a solo ride tomorrow?

I don't have friends in the medical circle who are bikers. I have real close friends who hate bikes because they are too comfortable in their cars. And the non-medico friends who are bikers, were not available at a day's notice, doing their jobs without a surprise 7 day CL.

An active throat infection was there with a little bronchitis. I was spiking with fever and had only one day of antibiotic course. Nauseous, sweating and weak at its best.

I thought I was going to Hampi, all the way, and collected my gear and tried to sleep, first time dreaming of my bike and the wet roads rather than gruesome surgical emergencies and torn limbs. Anyway.

DAY 1

Left at 7am from Parel, the plan being 5am. It was pouring.
Gear- Rynox Tornado Pro Jacket, DSG Carbon Gloves, Gosgo Combat Boots, LS2 Phobia Helmet, 3M Earplugs
Bike - RE C350

I don't own a proper riding luggage because I am too lay to get one. I travel light and thus was with a laptop backpack. Bought a weird BLUE carry-bag to cover the top of the bag. Wrapped up with bungee cords. Same way we put a mesh over a hernia. It was funny but effective.



After half an hour or so, I dismounted to check the tyres as I felt a little wobbly. And

Snap

A bungee cord gave way and hit right between my legs, you know, a man's worst imagination to get hit at. I was in agony. Fifteen painful minutes and the incessant rainfall with the pain gave me second thoughts. So I rode upto Panvel and halted at the bifurcation to Pune/Goa roads at Palaspe.

I thought - Why am I going to Hampi? To see the ruins and photograph them. But is it the idea? Is it why I am going? I am already sick. I have fever right now and post-paraceamol sweating is gonna worsen the stuff in this rain liner. Then why am I making it a business to stretch myself to go somewhere I was never feeling compelled to go?
If I was going to Hampi I would just be some guy in a train/bus or one on a bike going somewhere, calculating the time, making plans and preparing to himself that this trip should not suck. At all. All should go well.

But Why?

Three sleepless moths I am working all days including Sundays, and following protocols, keeping myself sharp. Why do it sitting on a bike? Let things flow by themselves.

I was going to take the Pune-Solapur Road. Now I did a Toss.

Yes. A Toss. And it said go take the Goa Highway.

So I did. Popped my medications and hit the road. I was flowing now.



Stopped by and visited the Karnala Sanctuary. One hour passed by in silence. Sightings were rare. I was planning to spend the whole week right here. But pulled back, and started ahead. With no destination to go to, I was feeling a palpatory bliss deep inside, unfolding all the muscles and nerves, so adhered to planning and protocols.



Few Chirpers around







Kickstarted from karnala, with a rather heavy heart, and vroomed on. One thing, Even I started the ride at a moment's notice, I had the bike in the most possibly upkept condition. I have seen wannabe biker medics buying Harleys and Bullets like buying Uncle Chips from a grocery store and I have seen them rusting and getting completely messed up within 2 years of (dis)use. Having seen living examples before my eyes, I have made a habit of looking after my ride and trying to ride as much as possible. I had nothing to worry about in that section.

All these thoughts breezed into my mind as I saw a stranded fellow on the roadside. He was squeezing the button starter of his Honda Unicorn 160 brand new from the showroom (garlands and all) and smoking black soot. A little conversation mostly initiated by me because he surely was spooked by an alien looking fully geared person. It turned out to be the everyday mistake of inserting a baniyaan as a wiping cloth under the seat, choking the air. Having done the problem solved, he was ready to hug me and even kiss me (I guess) as he was about to call his lawyer to sue Honda Motors for a faulty piece.

I noticed, after a while, I was smiling. Unprovoked. The best smiles are the ones you notice after a while. Occasional drizzles, and raindroppy visor. Perfect.

I eventually crossed Mangaon without stopping pretty much. I had a thought of visiting alibaug but I had ridden there two months back. Same was for Goa. I had done it about 5 months back, not solo though, and not in rains. I have never seen Goa in rains. I was feeling indecisive again and it took over my brain once again.

I was cooking inside the Rain Liner.
I was getting irritated inside the foggy visor.
I was not planning on getting sicker.

I was not at all planning on get sicker.




So at a point I just unmounted and removed the jacket, the helmet, the boots and the socks even. I got off, barefeet with my camera, and took some breeze. The hell with the rain liner for a while. I was feeling like a boiled egg which has just been peeled off. Like a rabbit out of the cage, I went in the fields roadside. I didn't give a damn about the robbers who are going to pry open my luggage and take away my extra underwears. Good Luck with that.



Barefeet walk over the plush grass.



Small Things. and Twigs.



Another loner



Dragonfly eating a little bug. Demonically Cute.




Feeling a little better, again popped my afternoon dose, and buzzed ahead. I was not required to remind myself that I was not chasing time, as I would have done if I was going to Hampi or anywhere. So I was keeping it real at the sweet 60-70's. Stopping anywhere I pleased and urinating as much as I wanted and as frequently as I wanted.

Yes, you don't get to urinate frequently when you are a doctor. And yes it is a luxury for me. So what. :-D

I crossed Mahad and shortly after I reached Poladpur.

I suddenly wanted to get drenched and probably die during cornering a twist while watching the cloudy horizon over the Sahyadris. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was just a twich of a muscle. I took a left and started my ascent towards Mahabaleshwar. Had some awesome Misal Pao at the corner resto.





Poladpur To Mahabaleshwar

Let me be clear here, I have spent the initial years of my life at Satara. Which happens to be a small town and has a cult mixture of orthodoxy and Pune-Wannabism. So Mahabaleshwar is not new to me at all. I have wandered in the depths of M'shwar like anything. But this time, I was taken to that road by sheer intuition. I t was the road there. There is a special something about this ghaat. Maybe it is the bus rides during the childhood and the unavoidable vomiting. It has a special place. And cornering. Lots of risky twisties. Lots of fun.

It was raining like anything as if the clouds were having a pissing contest. Literally there was a curtain of rain, raindrops, visor, fog and moisture in front of my eyes. It was beautiful, yet monstrous. I was glued to the seat, taking corners as they came, even with the help of the unreputable zappers and my leaning skills. It was liberating.

As expected, drunk imbeciles and buses were coming down without a warning to crumple me with their no-horn-no-headlamp policy.

Halfway down, the rain took a break. So I unmounted to try taking a few photos.












At a corner, it was one breathtakingly beautiful landscape. On the valley deep down, a patch of cloud was open and sunrays were focused on a specific area and otherwise it was pouring insanely. I had to keep watching it for I don't know how long. I was standing there, bike parked on the side. Watching the view. It was a state of meditation. I was looking over at something which I was not physically at, but still I was the whole of it.

It must have been over 10 minutes I was standing in that magnanimous rainfall, staring, and two people in a Vento stopped to see what I was eagerly seeing. They were hesitant to climb down from their comfort-cocoon with dryness and warmth. I repeatedly called them, waving, to come and see. Finally a fellow came out with an umbrella and soon as his feet touched the ground,

he made a face which can only be described as the one you make when you step on dog's poo with bare feet. The whole rainfall and the experience was so terribly uncomfortable for him, he literally was sucked into the car back. That ewww face left me laughing out loud in that fall. I guess he was there to enjoy the scenery and rainfall in the ghaats. I guess.






Smiling tranquilly, I went ahead.

After a lot of orgasmic twisties, thousands of litres of rainfall, few close calls, and wide smiles, I was at Mahabaleshwar.



Mahabaleshwar.



I have explored depths of rural M'shwar so often, I was feeling like behaving like a tourist this time. So I went to the local market with jams and falero and channa-daal stalls. It was beautiful and fogged-up. You know how it gets. Utterly romantic. I was seeing happy faces of newlyweds and I was radiating the same kind of smile, I guess, which totally was satisfying to know.

To behave like a real typical tourist, I went to a CCD in M'shwar. Hahaha yes, a CCD.

I stripped down to T-shirt and the wet Jeans.

Coffee break.





After the break, it was too void, too gloomy, too cloudy, too wet and too cold.

I wanted to go home. But going home to Satara meant tripping in the trip.

Still, there was no place for me to go except Satara. Plus the Medha ghaat is fun and so is the kanher backwater.

I wanted to go home. I did a toss. I didn't.


So I decided that owing to this romantic weather, I am gonna call my sort-of-girlfriend (it is not yet official)

Sitting at a spot in medha ghaat, I had such a beautiful conversation with her. I don't remember the last time I had spoken up so freely with her. She was glowing up on the other side and yes, she was happy. Because I made her so.

I had no intention of going home.

So I just took a book from the backpack and started reading.



After two chapters, I called up a friend at satara and asked for a place to crash in my own hometwon. And he did arrange is spare flat key for me.

Rode straight away to Satara, again, beautiful twisties and little photography detours and halts.

Had dinner with the friend. He was pretty cocky about me not going home. I let him be.

Lots of talks later and fulfilling his medical queries, slept off. Still had fever. Last dose of meds for the day.

Day 1 was a real start. KMs done (doesn't matter to me, but anyway) 345-ish.


Day 2

Please refer to page 2 of the travelogue.