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!!!