Bulls On Parade to Churdhar

Teaser:- Tsering couldn't make it for the trip, but we're still 4 ppl strong on the trip... :)
Teaser 2: Another girl rode with us for about 6-7 kms between Dharampur and Solan.
Teaser 3: Five-star in Chureshwar.
Teaser 4: 'Yeh glass gol nahin dikh raha hai'
Teaser 5: 'Staff-wala bed'
Teaser 6: Manicure and pedicure at Chureshwar
Teaser 7: 'Chilke-wali'

The Churdhar Cherokees
The place was once suggested by our dear friend Sanket Tomar. He missed out on telling us the length of the trek. When we finally came to know that it was 18 kms long, it was too late to decide on a new destination. The final confirmations were:

Aasish Francis - Royal Enfield Standard - The Trivandrum Guy
Ankit Sheoran - Royal Enfield Lightning - The Vegetarian Guy
Diptinder Singh Chhabra - Royal Enfield Electra - The Metrosexual Guy
The Fourth - Surprise Entry.

23 July 2011

On the date of departure, I had too little sleep. Still somehow managed to get on my Bullet at 4:00 AM. As soon as I had covered a km, the Bullet began to lose power and stopped. On inspection, everthing appeared fine. The electricals were fine, the spark plug was fine, fuel supply was also fine. Frantic kicking got no results. All it did was drench me in sweat. I called up Francis and Sunny to ask their suggestions on what else I could look at. I've always maintained that Bullets have a mind of their own. At that time, it seemed to tell me not to have keep it neglected for the past three weeks. It enjoyed itself sadistically watching me sweat and pant for another 15 minutes before taking pity and then started up. The sweet sound of Thump. That was the only sort of breakdown we had in the entire ride. Quite unusual for us.
I caught up with Francis quickly at Mahipalpur and we together made for Mukarba Chowk. We had earlier messaged Shera that we would be late. He made full use of the extra time. When we reached our meeting point, he was seen lying flat on the bench of the bus stop. The aroma of the surroundings must have helped him catch sleep quickly.
Our earlier plan was to take the first break only after covering 100 kms. But my initial morning exercise had left me exhausted. There was no way I could cover 100 kms of riding on an empty stomach now. So Murthal's Ahuja Dhaba was chosen as the first pit stop. The taste of that white butter is ever so delicious.
Since the first pit stop was taken only after 40 kms, we decided to make a long haul for the next one. Ambala was 150 kms away. It was far, but we were determined. The run was fast. We had almost made it. But after crossing Shahabad, 20 kms prior to Ambala, it began to drizzle. We stopped at the parking lot of the nearest dhaba to put on our rainsuits.

The waiter at the dhaba watched us expectedly. He wished we would stop at the dhaba and have some refreshments. He also invited us in. Seeing a beer shop just next to the dhaba, we obliged. It was time for it anyway. The waiter asked us to sit inside the room so that "families objection raise kar dengi" else "problem create ho jayegi". We did manage to convince him to make us sit outside in the corner. To have the beer in a secret way, he brought us glasses. We had to control ourselves from laughing at his face. He had brought us transparent plastic glasses. Ultimately, we had our swigs straight from the bottle.

As we started to leave, it wasn't raining. But just as we rode a kilometer, it started to pour. This went on till Ambala where we stopped for refuel.
Teaser:- Tsering couldn't make it for the trip, but we're still 4 ppl strong on the trip... :) LEAK: Shera had two raincoats with him. He used one of them to cover his backpack. He observed at the petrol pump that the raincoat protecting his bag was actually better than the one he was wearing himself. This turned out to be much amusing for Francis and me. For the rest of the trip, the bag was respectfully referred to as "Sherni" and we were a group of four.
The rain didn't leave us after that. Until now we were planning to pick up booze from Chandigarh. But since, we did not have that much appetite, we decided to skip it. The rain finally let go at Zirakpur. But only momentarily. But by that time, we had touched the hills. Due to monsoons, the hills were green like never before. Our next halt was at Giani's Dhaba at Dharampur. It came highly recommended by Rocky and Mayur of Highway On My Plate fame.
Meanwhile, my digestive system was acting up. The owner of the dhaba is very particular about who gets to use the toilet. He locks it and keeps the key with him. My pressure was intense. As soon as I got the key, I began to run. But the owner was faster. He gripped my hand giving me precise directions to follow and then return the key to him. When I narrated this later to my comrades, Francis pointed out that the only detail he left out was which hand to use.
It took me a long time to get back to the lunch table. The place was getting crowded. The guys were just finishing up. I hurriedly ate the lemon chicken and kadi. We were now getting hounded by the waiting customers. It takes a long time for us to wear our gear. It must have been very frustrating for the waiting customers to see us get ready. I have a suspicion that Francis deliberately got dressed slower than usual. Trivandrum Rascal.
Since, we were all wet, we were also cold. Hell, I was shivering. It was necessary to get some warmth. A theka close by had the cure. We took neat swigs of half a bottle of Old Monk. The effect was immediate. It was like burning coal slipping down an icy path. We picked up a full bottle for our stay at Nauradhar. No sense in stopping again for shopping.
The road condition upto Solan was good. Francis had his own adventure in those 16 kms.
Teaser 2: Another girl rode with us for about 6-7 kms between Dharampur and Solan: LEAK:
As Francis was riding, a Safari came up along side him. The couple sitting inside was waving it to him. At first, he didn't take much notice and just waved back. Then he noticed that they were asking him to stop. The driver asked him to give a ride to the girl for a short distance as she had been begging for it. The girl was wearing spaghetti top and shorts. Needless to say, Francis agreed. While riding, he enquired if the couple was married. He received the response, "No, just..". The girl also asked him about his girlfriend, why she wasn't accompanying him and where were we heading. Next thing, he told us was that he dropped the girl just before Solan. Francis suspected her to be a prosti. Now this was all narrated to us by Francis sometime later. Shera and I were not near him when the incident happened. So, the benefit of doubt does go to him. Shera was also doubtful that had the incident occurred, whether the girl's proffession was right. To quote Francis' words as a reply, "Yes, the benefit of doubt does exist, but I'm not in the mood". We also liked the story that way.
On a special request from Francis, it should bementioned here that Solan girls are in a leagueof their own. After Solan, we were on new territory. This road had not been traversed before. Although not in good condition, but the surroundings were most scenic. It had also stopped drizzling for some time so we were enjoying the view. It was good enough for Francis to take out his precious gun turret camera for a while. We got to see so little of it.
Wet weather accompanied us throughout after that. But it was enjoyable. We were riding IN the clouds. Wiping the visors was a constant task. The route was full of freshly flowing waterfalls. At one instant, we even struck a water crossing, the sort you get to see in Ladakh. It was joyful. We encountered lots of slush also. But never too intimidating. When we reached Nauradhar, we asked around for places to stay. A steep incline led to Hotel Churueshwar. It came recommended by the locals. Not that they had enough choice. It was one of the two hotels existing in the small town.

Shera drove a hard bargain for the room rent. An amount of 700 was settled. The caretaker was a rude person. We finally got out of our wet clothes and into dry ones. There was no way of drying clothes too. The rooms didn't even have a fan.

Teaser 3: Five-star in Chureshwar. LEAK:
Francis took out the five star chocolate he had got from Giani's dhaba and distributed it.

A tragic news awaited us. The kitchen could not offer us non-veg food. They had to be told in advance so that the cook could go and buy the meat. So, we settled down to an all vegetarian diet of snacks, much to Shera's delight. However, we did order veg and egg pakodas, egg bhurji. Everything tasted wonderful. We took out the bottle of Old Monk and started the BBB. These are the times when we are at our intellectual best, and its no laughing matter.

Teaser 4: 'Yeh glass gol nahin dikh raha hai'
Suddenly, I noticed that my glass was oval in shape. This provided a hearty laugh to Francis and Shera, even though it was true.

Surprisingly, we only finished just more than half of the bottle. Dinner was served. We asked for the extra bed too. (Teaser 5: 'Staff-wala bed': LEAK)

Although the food was simple, the taste was not. It was splendid. The butter on the dal tasted real. We ate little. Francis had negligible. Sleep came easily.

24 July 2011

We woke up at leisure.
Teaser 6: Manicure and pedicure at Chureshwar
I had cut my fingernails last night. Then turned my attention to toe-nails in the morning. I was labelled metrosexual, a term I truly hate.

The plan of the day was to go on the Churdhar trek. The starting point was just from the outside of our hotel. We knew we wouldnt be able to complete the whole of it. We decided to go whatever little distance we could. But other urgent matters had to be taken care of first. We ordered chicken for the night, had parathas and eggs for breakfast, filled up rum mixture for the trek ahead, dressed up in rainsuits. All this activity took us up and down the Churueswar Hotel stairs back and forth which was nothing short of a small trek itself. And then we were off on the Churdhar trek.

As with all our treks, we grew tired pretty early. My boots were on their last breath. The sole was giving way now. As soon as it looked like we had scaled one level, the onward path took us higher and higher. Moreover, the continuous drizzle was making us heavier and heavier. We reached a point to sit besides the flowing water and have some rum. We soaked in the peace. It was the time to forget our mundane everyday lives. Natural spring water energized us.

After a while we started again. I'm sure the view would have been spectacular, but we were walking amidst the clouds. There was no view to be seen. We must have covered some 4 kms with no visible view when we decided to head back. Moreover, a barrier had come in our paths.

We sat down at our final ascent and finished the rum. Shera and Francis struggled with making a joint they had obtained from our cook's personal supplies. Francis even dropped it once, so till date we are unsure as to what he picked up from the ground and what the hell did they smoke.

The descent was fast. At one spot, some of the clouds lifted and we could see the spectacular view. We were spellbound and sat down there only. Francis brought out a packet of bourbons. I haven't tasted such biscuits in my entire life.

Now we were hungry. Our mutton curry was waiting. We descended quickly and went straight for the kitchen. The locals must have been very disappointed when we told them we had made up to only 4 kms. We were not at all disappointed with the mutton curry. Bless the environment for having borne the goat.

We began to ponder on what else to do. It was 4 pm now. There was nothing else the place had to offer. So, we decided to head on towards the return path to Delhi. As with many of our rides, this time too we had chosen a circuit. Our way back was through Nahan. Seeing that our journey till Nauradhar had taken us a good deal of time, we thought it best to cover some of the distance on the return journey.

After some arguing over the checkout timing with the manager, we left Nauradhar. We had been told of a short cut to a place Sangrah. The short cut was 42 kms long. But we picked up supplies before leaving, another bottle of Old Monk. The road took us through unpaved roads. The progress was quite slow. But the view was still magnificient. Mother Nature never lets you see herself in her most beautiful form. Sad, but true.






Shera stopped frequently to capture the sights. After 20 kms of offroading, we struck tarmac. Sangrah was now only 22 kms away. But the paths were very steep. As Shera pointed out, some of the hairpins took us seven feet higher.
On reaching Sangrah, we stopped at the main chowk and asked for accommodation. There was a PWD rest house just a km away. The PWD resthouses are the best means of accommodation one can find. They are cheap with great aesthetics. Not all offer services to the general public. This one did. We had a room for the night for Rs 275 only. Unfortunately, there was no food. Now, we had to go back to the market to get food packed. But the dhaba didn't have any packing material. Our council meeting would now be split into two, pre- and post-dinner.
We had picked up snacks beforehand.

Teaser 7: 'Chilke-wali'
Shera was particularly looking for a peanut in the Haldiram's Khatta-Meetha pack even though we had a packet of roasted peanuts with us.

The security guard entered our room just as we had finished half a bottle. He told us that the dhabawala had called as he was about to close his shop. The truth was they had plans of their own. Chicken was already cooked and they were just waiting for the dhabawala to join them. Now, we paused our drinks and went to the dhaba. The cook told us that he had never called the rest house. Since, we were already there, he started to prepare our dinner. He packed it in containers and then we carried it back to the resthouse. When we reached there, we begged them to have us taste some of the chicken. They took pity on our sad faces and threw in a small portion of the chicken. Although bit oily, it was very well made. But now, our thirst had grown.
We stepped out into the wide parking area and sat down there to finish our drinks. It was as if we had forgotten that we would be riding 350+ kms tomorrow. Francis gave us a brief psycho-analysis test to which we wouldn't have given honest answers otherwise. The drawback was that we were out of booze. We needed more.
Some government employees arrived just then. The resthouse caretakers surely had a big party plan that night. They were also in need of booze. So, Francis and Shera joined them in the jeep and went to the nearest theka. A half bottle of Mc Dowell's No. 1 was procured from under the shutters.
We did not care for the time that night. The BBB was turning out just superb. But eventually, even the half ran out and then it was dinner, and sleep.

25 July 2011

We woke up easy. It was raining. We congratulated ourselves for saving two hours of journey from yesterday. We waited for a while for the rain to subside. Looking that it did not, we got ready to leave. There was no breakfast available at the rest house. We settled our dues and went to the same dhaba from where we had brought dinner. Tea, biscuits and parathas. The rain was still on.
Then we were off for RenukaJi. It was 22 kms away, but it took us more than an hour to get there. Water was constantly dripping against us, but we were past caring now. We had grown immune to it now. Moreover, we knew the weather would be terrible after the hills.
At RenukaJi, we stopped for petrol. The pump there had too few petrol to fill the tanks. So we just filled enough to reach Nahan. On the 28 kms to Nahan, I grew nostalgic about my previous ride on this road. The Nahan Nunchuks. Another ride in which we all grew to admire KunwarJi, Sanket Tomar, much more. The rain had taken pity on us now. We did not face any more in the entire return leg. We crossed Dadahu, the temple trek. Everything looked familiar.
Since, the rain had stopped, it was getting warmer now. That means thirst and that means, beer. Just 4 kms before Nahan was a small theka in the middle of the hills with no other shops nearby. It looked like an ideal spot. The thekawalla was watching saas-bahu drama on a very small TV. Queer.




We crossed Nahan and then Kala Amb. All 3 of us were riding close together for long stretches, something rarely seen in our rides. Then, it was time for the hills to come to an end. Finally, the motorcycles could go full throttle. The 22 kms to Ambala were covered quickly. Although, this route was 20 kms longer, it had good roads. With monsoons up ahead, there was no telling what sort of shape the country roads would be in.
We touched NH-1 at Ambala via the Chandigarh route. This highway always gives a homely feeling. Everything looks and feels familiar. Only 200 kms more to go. We were in need of food. Shera was in the mood of junk, I wanted rotis, Francis was ok with anything. So, we chose Chaupal, hoping that it would satisfy all.
After parking and taking off the rain protective gear, three dirt-laden motorcyclists entered a very family-like place. Stares followed us. The front of my boot was wide open now. While riding, it used to bend backwards. But quality speaks for itself. It did not rip open. Unfortunately for Francis, there was no non-veg food. I made the most of it and ordered chhole, raita and rotis. We all had lassi though.
We were now feeling sleepy. With 180 kms still to go, it looked like a tall order. But then the sun came out. Finally, all the moisture was drying up. Full throttles again. We had decided to stop for the final beer break only after crossing the Karnal Carnal. While at Kurukshetra, I called up Gyan to ask if he could join us for a bout of highway beer. He just could not afford to get out of office and refused. The rest of us gathered later at the first theka after the Panipat flyover. Shera had stopped sometime before and we were wondering that he was far ahead. The freedom enjoyed in Haryana was apparent. Where else can you enjoy a bottle of beer openly sitting on the footpath of a busy National Highway? Meanwhile, Gyan had managed to take out some time, but since, I could not answer his phone, he could not make it to the highway.
We reached the landfill site at 7:00 PM. This must be another record for us, reaching the destination in broad daylight. We bid goodbye to Shera here and then Francis and I separated at Mahipalpur.
It was a fantastic trip with one of the most scenic surroundings I have ever seen. With no long ride planned in August, we'll be looking forward to attack the hills again in September.


JAI BoP!!!

Bulls on Parade to Kausani

KAUSANI KHALIFAS

The Ride did not live up to its name. Nothing happened as per plan. We ended up roaming around Kumaon, zigzagging across the district. We are not complaining though.
Our club, Bulls on Parade, had been running through a lean phase for a long time. The last ride happened in February 2011. We are not used to riding after such a long gap. Then 5 of us joined together to break this hibernation in June. Monsoons were starting. But we were determined to Ride this time. The place was fixed as Kaunsani. No one had been there making it a perfect destination. At a distance of 400 kms, it was a bit far but we have now exhausted all options within 350 kms. Another rider dropped out at the last moment citing personal reasons. That left with the four of us to carry on.
Ajit Singh - Royal Enfield Machismo 500 - The Dhaba lookout person
Vihans Gupta - Yamaha FZ 160 - The highly motivated person
Adit Sharda - Bajaj Pulsar 220 - The highly spoken person
Diptinder Singh Chhabra - Royal Enfield Electra 4S - The sleeper

25 June 2011

As I was saying, nothing happened as per plan. Vibhor and I were to meet at Gurgaon Toll. On reaching there, I received his message that he would not be coming. I made my way to Akshardham where the rest of us were to meet. Only Adit was waiting there as I reached there at 4:30 AM. Vihans was on his way, Ajit had just woken up, this despite his idea of leaving earlier at 3 AM. Finally, all of us got together at Noida turn near Sector 62 at 5:30 AM and the Ride started. Traffic was somewhat lean at this time. We had planned to halt at Giani's Dhaba in Gajraula for the first break, only after covering 100 kms.
Weather was lovely with slightly overcasting clouds. We reached the bridge over the Ganges at Garhmukteswar quickly. This point will always be remembered as the Tomar spot. It was at this very spot that our dear comrade, Sanket Tomar took a neat swig of rum from his hip flask in the blazing sun. Something that only he can do.
Ajit was in the lead and I was trailing last. When I reached Giani's dhaba, I did not see anyone else stop there. I called up Adit to ask where they were. They had stopped at a dhaba some distance ahead. I also carried on trusting Ajit's instinct. This was near his turf after all. He might be knowing of some better dhaba. 'Some distance' turned out to be 9 kms and a not so special dhaba. Ajit reasoned that he did not see any dhaba at Gajraula. That has us in splits. Its akin to missing Sukhdev dhaba on the way to Panipat.
Parathas and hot tea arrived. Vihans ordered dal also. Adit miscalculated the hearing power of our server and shouted out the order. The server did not take it lightly and replied, "Haan, sun liya". We ate quietly after that.
Looking at the sky, it was only a matter of time before we would encounter rain. Hell, we face rainfall even in the driest months, this was monsoon season. We crossed Moradabad and turned towards Rampur. We had not done this stretch before. And the experience made us vow that we never do it again. It had a long line of trucks. We had to go off the road on the left side to get ahead. Then asking at a turn, we turned towards Rudrapur. There was no direction whatsoever. The offroad and the long gap since the previous ride was having an effect on the body. We were aching. The heat didnt help. Beer was the need of the hour. We stopped at many thekas on the way to Rudrapur, but none had chilled beer. Ajit reasoned that Uttarakhand has good power supply and therefore we would have chilled beer after crossing the state border only. Logical indeed. So as Ajit raced ahead towards the border, the rest of us stopped for a break at another theka. No chilled beer here too.
Blackberries kept the communication flowing. Ajit had replied on the mail group that he had reached Rudrapur. The rest of us saw this reply on Vihans' phone and replied, "How come? We're still near Rampur". Virtual Wars.
Enter Rudrapur. The city was crowded. We could not stop here. So, in the painful condition we carried on. Regrouping at the outskirts, we decided to halt at Bhimtal for beer and lunch. And thats when it started to pour. We had reached Bhimtal by now and stopped. As luck would have it, we stopped right in front of a theka. On asking around, he told us that we could sit at a tea stall nearby. The stall guy allowed us to have beer in the shop. It was pouring heavily now. Ajit was not with us. He had stopped some distance back. We joked that he must still be in Rudrapur.
Beer was a much needed respite. The stall also offered lunch in the form of Rajma Rice and also some meat. The meat was from a part of the body that we did not care to try. The rain went on for another hour after which Ajit joined us. So, we sat down again for a few more minutes. We dressed up in our rainsuits and started our journey. It was around 5 PM that we stopped for a tea break near Almora. We tasted some of the local sweet balmithai and some homemade chocolates. Kausani was still couple of hours away. It might also grow dark soon. Also, our bodies were not in such a good shape. So we decided to stay at Almora for the night and head to Kausani the next day.
Refuge was taken at Hotel Himsagar. Adit enthusiastically rode into the parking. We had not even looked at the room yet. At Rs 1500 a night for 4 people, it sounded like a decent deal and we took it. Now, we had to prepare to relax ourselves. As two of us were cleaning up, Vihans and Adit went for a walk to the market and brought back snacks. Then Ajit and I went to get beer. At just 5 bottles for the four of us, we were well short of our capacities. But none of us felt like drinking much that night. That is very unusual. To add to it, the beer was Superior 50000, a brand that doesn't get you high no matter how much you drink. More snacks were ordered from room service. But when they arrived, we already had tasted much of the Rs 20 pakodas that were brought earlier. We were not feeling much like eating also. It did not grow dark for another hour. If we had decided to continue to Kausani, we would have made it in daylight. But our condition did not allow. Were it not for the room snacks, we were all drunk and eaten at just Rs 430, Rs 400 out of which accounted for expensive UK beer.

26 June 2011

We woke up early around 8. Checkout time was 10 AM. Odd. The weather looked nice and we went to the roof. We breathed in the fresh mountain air. At 9:30, we were on our bikes ready to ride to Kausani. The stretch was fabulous. We were enjoying it now. It would not have been such fun last night when we were exhausted. Just 10 kms short we stopped for Ajit to catch up. One beer was still left from last night and it looked like an opportune time to open it.

When we reached Kausani, some agents gathered around offering hotel rooms. We asked them on the places to visit. Most importantly, it turned out that the place was dry. No alcohol shops. The place did not fancy us anymore. So, we went 14 kms ahead till Garuda to pick up some alcohol, found a spot and decide on the future course. "Plan on the go" seemed to be a flavour of this ride. The spot that we chose was secluded from the main road where we could shout out as loud as we wanted. After Vihans breakthrough performance of Jumma-Chumma, this point is hereby named as Jumma Point.

We stopped for lunch at Pratiksha Restaurant. As we had lunch, Vibhor had driven with his family and joined us here. They were on the way to Nainital. Now don't ask how Kausani got in the way. Lunch was decent in taste. Maybe it tasted better as the waiter had permitted us to have rum here.
We decided to move to Ranikhet for the night. We had visited that place last year and loved its serenity. But the route taken was starkingly different. We turned from Someshwar. The roads led in between huge meadows. Those 50 kms were covered on a fantastic stretch. We arrived at Hotel Monal of KMVNL. It turned out that it used to be KMVNL. Now, it was privately owned. We fit inside one room for Rs 1000. It used to be much cheaper last year. Even the service had deteriorated. Such a wonderful place had been destroyed. Its one of those rare cases where private developers have ruined a government property.
We had already picked up alcohol for the night from Garuda. The next day was going to be another long haul. So, we started early and finished early. We had to wake up again in less than 6 hours.

27 June 2011

An early wake up and bill settlement. The asshole charged us 15% extra as luxury tax. This place cannot be visited anymore. The weather was cloudy. This time it was decided to make the return via Corbett route. Ramnagar was 100 kms away. But the roads were in excellent shape, much to our surprise. To find smooth roads even in the rainy season is a treasure. The UK Government should be commended for this. 25 kms into our journey and it started to rain. We stopped at a small dhaba. Hot tea was very much required. The cook also served a unique dish. Pakodas mixed with masala potatoes and cucumber raita. The combination of this taste was out of this world. I took three helpings then and there. Maggi was also ordered and it was delicious too.

We waited till the rains grew lighter. There was no use waiting for it to stop completely. So, we carried on in a single file slowly in the rains. The roads were mostly empty. It would be fabulous to ride here in dry weather.
10 kms before Ramnagar, we stopped at a river crossing, the sorts you see when driving to Corbett. The water was low and inviting. No prizes for guessing what happened next. Off with the clothes and down in the river. Even though we were already wet, we dont miss any chance of freshwater baths. Ajit and Adit were too snug in their DSGs.

The clouds cleared up here. From here on, it would keep on getting hotter. The wet clothes provided respite. We stopped at Hotel Dawat in Ramnagar for lunch. The chicken was well cooked, the quantity enough for the four of us and the cost very, very reasonable. Another group of Enfielders were leaving as we got here. They had come from Mumbai, taken Enfields on rent from Rishikesh and were now on the way to Bhimtal. Quite a distinctive choice for travellers coming from Mumbai.
After the slow start, it was time to accelerate now. The restaurant guy recommended that we go via Thakurdwara. But then, we are intelligent creatures. A massive jam welcomed us at Kashipur. We avoided Thakurdwara as we saw a long line of trucks headed that way. Instead we took the turn towards Aliganj. Straightaway, we were caught behind a truck trying to get past a marriage party. It reminded me of the scene at Bikaner where we danced in front of a marriage party while the actual guests stared. Sadly, the scene was not repeated here as the main catalyst, Nishant Jha was missing.
When we were clear of this mess, a swell state highway greeted us. The going was good for the first 5 kms. Then, it turned into a nightmare. Completely broken down roads with lots of clunks coming from the shockers. Some locals said that the roads will improve after 6 kms. But, it turned out to be a good 25 kms till we touched the actual road coming from Thakurdwara. Even this was not so smooth, but it was a big improvement from what we had been through. Finally, we touched the National Highway after crossing Moradabad.
The motorcycles could reach into their top gear now. We utilized every minute of it. But before that, Ajit called for a stop. He had decided to skip our final beer break and head non-stop to Noida. He had good reason too. Someone special from California was waiting for him. But destiny had other plans. As soon as we zoomed off, and Ajit zoomed off even faster, he was seen in a stationary position 10 minutes later. The electricals were not working. On further checking, the fuse had blown. He didn't had a spare. I had one and he used it. But still, the electricals did not go on. Then Adit came up with a masterstroke. He recommended reversing the fuse placement. He remembered it happening in a past ride to Nishant Jha. He was the brainchild of the operation.
Now Ajit was obliged to join us for the beer break. We stopped at a village before Gajraula. A couple of locals got interested seeing our outfits and came out to interact. Usually, we entertain such folk, but at that time the minor breakdown, the heat had gotten to us. We kept our interaction to a minimum.

Moreover, we had to cross the dreaded Garhmukteswar quickly before the mayhem increased. That bridge is known for miles of traffic.
We did cross it in good time with no waiting. Its a boon. I stopped at a village called, Mussoorie seeing Vihans and Adit's bikes. They were also having their last cheers in the form of tobacco weed. Ajit had become invisible. What we avoided at Garh, we found at Noida. Long traffic lines. They are getting longer every year. If it keeps on increasing at such pace, I wonder if there would be any movement at all. Vihans and I regrouped after crossing the Yamuna at Akshardham. Adit had also taken a diversion at Noida and had become invisible. But before we departed, we paid a visit to the legendary Dutta, aka John. His new black Classic 500 had arrived. We went to congratulate him. The special bottle of Glenfiddich was an added attraction. I hope he gives us the opportunity to ride with him now.