My Bull on Parade to Chakrata, Budher
18-20 April 2014
It had to start somewhere,
It had to start sometime.
What better place than here
What better time than now.
Zack de
la Rocha knew what he was talking about when he was singing Guerilla Radio. I
followed these lines to the core on the morning of 18th April. The
way the year was progressing participation of members was decreasing steadily
in the rides. Sooner or later there had to come a time when I would be the only
one left. The ride in March had already been cancelled. That had caused major
depression. I couldn’t make it through the cancellation of another ride. So
come what may, I decided that I would cover the April Ride.
A bit of
warning first. Since this was a first solo ride this blog would all be about
me, myself and I. Many personal thoughts would be included. It would be lengthy
too.
The
situation wasn’t all that distressing at start. Three-four riders were expected
to join. Some cancellations were obviously expected. But two days before the
ride everyone had cancelled. Maybe it’s because people just don’t have that
passion of riding anymore. Maybe I’m too hungry a Rider. Whatever it may be,
I’ll never know. But I had decided to leave my home on 4 AM on 18th
April. This would be the first 3 day BoP Ride.
18th
April, 2014:
I left my
home all packed up at 4 AM. It had started to drizzle. Elements of a BoP Ride
were falling in place. Rain was a given. On nearing the Airport, it turned
heavy. I was debating whether to put on the rain gear here or at the landfill
site. The question was answered when I hit a bad bump and the shockers stuck.
It has happened to me earlier too because of the local quality. The Bullet
specialist, Zaheer had also bought the original ones for me, but they had
arrived too late for me to get them replaced.
Fixing
this issue requires immense strength. It is near impossible to put it on the
main stand in this position. The front mudguard has to be stamped hard so that
the shockers regain their position. It took a good 15 minutes and all my energy
to get it fixed. The rain gear was also put on now.
I stopped
briefly at the landfill site in a last hope of seeing a fellow BoP-ian who
would join me. But it was not to be. There was some other group waiting there
for the rain to stop. Now I was enraged. This state of mind makes you do crazy
things. So despite the heavy rain I moved forward. Thanks to my flatmate for
lending me his helmet for this ride which had a clear visor, I was able to
progress. Enroute I saw other rider groups too, even a Harley-one. A long
weekend provided the opportunity for many groups to plan their Ride, except
mine (GRRRRRRR).
But I
could make it only as far as Murthal before the rain got better off me. You
cannot mess with Mother Nature. It can be fatal. I waited at Ahuja dhaba with
hot tea for company. The rain showed no sign of letting off so parathas were
also ordered. After an hour the rain finally slowed. But I was also slowed by
the heavy breakfast. Until that point I was wondering whether to carry on
alone. But sitting at the dhaba saw few more motorcycle groups pass by. That
increased my morale and I decided to continue. Besides, the adventure of a solo
ride was yet to be experienced.
The going
was swift now as the rain had subsided. I made quick progress till Karnal and
then turned towards Yamunanagar taking the Kunjpura Road. Last time my Bullet
had been on this road during the Redstone Rockets Ride. The road is still in a very
good condition, probably one of the last ones in Haryana. Rural countryside, great roads, Bullet, cloudy weather, nothing
beats it. The patch while entering Yamunanagar is the only bad patch I
encountered till Chakrata.
From
Yamunanagar I took the turn to Paonta Sahib. But while travelling through the
city I noticed how much it had modernized now. Another fantastic piece of
tarmac now awaited me till Paonta Sahib.
I had been travelling for more than 90
kms now. The Bullet deserved a break. I wasn’t feeling tired at all. Moreover,
the hydration pack brought by Nishant was a great support and there was no need
of water breaks. But I still stopped for a while to let the engine cool down.
It was ironical to see the road to Paonta Sahib surrounded by ‘weed’. Quite a
contrast.
Moving on
I saw few stands selling strawberry shakes by the roadside. This was unusual.
All you metropolitan city hipsters are beaten hands down by the villagers of
Chachhrauli. I wondered what all other items they had inside the village.
Before entering the city limits of Paonta Sahib, I picked up some whiskey for
the night.
Entered
Paonta Sahib and quickly made my way through Himachal to enter Uttarakhand. I
crossed Herbertpur and Vikasnagar. Strangely though, I didn’t remember
Herbertpur like this when crossing it 5 years ago. Earlier it was more of a
village. Now it looked more of a proper town. Vikasnagar was as crowded as
earlier. Finally the hills were about to start after Kalsi. I couldn’t remember
why we had taken the route from Saharanpur in our last ride. The current route
was much more better and the distance wouldn’t have increased by more than 15
kms.
I passed
the board saying “Foreigners are not allowed” at Kalsi and prepared myself for
the curves ahead. It had been such a long time since I experienced them and was
desperately thirsty for them. As soon as the first one started, I knew I had
made the right decision of coming on this ride. A solo ride meant that I didn’t
have to care about the other riders. I could carry on at my own pace. The
freedom offered was much more. I didn’t have to follow the line of the
motorcycle in front of me. It happens unknowingly. In fact, the bare minimum
traffic meant that I could make my own line. I could bend all the way. However,
the only thing that stopped me from doing so was the old shockers. They were
acting as a spoiler. Still the thrill of the hills did not decrease. Also I was
making pretty good time which would have been impossible with the club members
who frequently stop for cig breaks.
I stopped
30 kms short of Chakrata to admire where I was. I soaked in the atmosphere with
a bit of whiskey. Since I don’t drink alone, I had to bring in virtual company in
the form of whatsapp groups. Nishant and Nilu said cheers with me. Nishant’s
hip flask was just perfect for the occasion.
Time to
cover the final 30 kms now. The curves were even more enjoyable now. My
inclination increased from earlier. Chakrata was touched at 3:30 pm, a record
time for us. I tried to locate Hotel Snow View where our club had stayed
earlier and had a whale of a time. But I couldn’t find it. It was only the
following day that I crossed it on the way to Budher. For the present day, I decided
to stay near the main market. Himgiri Guest House was perfectly located. On a
budget of 600 per night, I secured a room for two nights.
Chakrata
was colder than usual. The locals told that recent rains were responsible for
the cold. I wasn’t much prepared for it. Hunger was the first priority. I had
read in a blog about Sher-e-Punjab dhaba and made my straight to there. Mutton
curry and rotis were ordered. It was indeed praiseworthy. The curry reeked of
the flavor of mutton. The pieces were soaked to the core. Proper carnivorous
meal.
Clothes
were the second priority. I purchased a sweater from one of the shops. It
provided the much needed warmth. I purchased some socks too as my other pair
had gone wet. Now I was feeling drowsy. I reached back to my room and took a
nap of two hours. Woke up refreshed and left the room to scout for the
evening’s agenda. With one person, BBB was impossible. So I scouted for the
next best thing. Food. I noticed a sign of Chicken pakoda and Fish pakoda. The
owner was selling raw fish and chicken. On further enquiry he told that one of
the restaurants would make the pakodas for a charge. I went to the shop he
pointed to and asked the lady at the counter. She was ready to cook the fish.
Being an amateur I further troubled her only to get the fish. I would have no
idea of how to buy it. Half a kilo of fish pakodas were prepared. Meanwhile two
other Bullets having Delhi registration entered the bazaar. They were also
looking for a place to stay and opted for Himgiri only. Now I cursed my fellow
club members even more. After taking the turn off NH-1 at Karnal I hadn’t
noticed any other riders. That had helped in keeping my rage away. Now it was
back.
Packing
up the fish, I returned to my room. For virtual company this time it was the
BoP chapter in Bangalore. BK, Fagu and Shashank had travelled to Munnar on a
4-day trip and we had planned to sync up tonight for BBB. BK called up at
around 10 pm and we indulged fully. Fagu was again made the culprit as he
believed that Chakrata is 500 kms from Delhi. I took it a step further and told
him its 600 kms. It was later I learnt that when BK told him the truth he still
didn’t believe him. Simple Fagu.
After the
BBB, I utilized the time to catch up on some classics I had imported from Nishant.
In Gurgaon, I hardly find the time to watch movies. Now I had all the time in
the world. I watched The Candidate, The Great Waldo Pepper and All the
President’s Men, co-incidentally all Robert Redfords during my stay there.
Great classics all of them. They just don’t make them like these anymore.
Finally it was time to doze off.
19th
April 2014:
I woke up
as late as I could and checked the time. It was only 9 AM. One tends to wake up
early in the hills. I cleaned up and went to look for breakfast. Most of the
market was still closed. Mist was all around.
Entered one sweet shop for food, but the
samosas were still not prepared. Moreover, a huge order for the Army was being
finished first. Customers would be served in order. It took me an hour to get
one samosa. But I needed something to last the day ahead.
Reaching
back to the guest house I asked the manager which place to go to for the day.
My options were Tiger Falls, Kanasar, Deoban and Budher. I had already seen
Tiger Falls, Asia’s third highest falls in terms of plunge, on my last visit.
He also suggested that Deoban would not be suitable for this weather. Kanasar
is not worthy of the distance that needs to be covered. That left Budher. It
offered a trek, cave and a lake. I settled on Budher.
Now I
planned on what to carry. Since Budher involved a trek, the hydration pack was
a must. The hip flask would be compulsory for a visit inside the cave. The
other riders staying at the guest house were still laying-in when I left. On
the way I saw the route to Hotel Snow View and recalled the night safari
experience too of my last visit. The weather had become clear now. Bright
sunshine shone all around. I reached a fork on the road where one road led to
Deoban and the other towards Budher. I debated on whether to cover Deoban or
not. During those minutes various calculations ran through my mind. The closest
petrol station to Chakrata was Vikasnagar, 45 kms away. I had filled up with
5.5 litres on my way up here. Now Budher was another 25 kms. You see how
calculative motorcyclists have to be and then people just think they are a
stupid bunch of people who should rather travel much more comfortably together in a car.
But it
was more of a sentimental decision that made me skip Deoban. As per club rules,
my ride would not be counted as a BoP Ride. So, covering Deoban seemed empty. I
hated my club members even more now.
I reached
Laukhandi and took the turn to Budher. There came another fork in the road.
After some back and forth movement and local guidance I was on the right path
towards Budher. 2 kms of hard off-roading later during which I also encountered some snow, I reached the Forest Rest
House.
I asked the guards there and they pointed me towards the path to the 3
kms trek. It was a steep path. I requested the guards to keep my helmet and
they kindly agreed. This kindness is part of the culture of Uttarakhand and
people in the plains should learn some of it.
I started
panting quickly due to the steep incline of the path. I was all alone in the
wilderness. But I wasn’t feeling lonely. It had been a while since I undertook
a trek. Taking in mouthfuls of crisp, clean mountain air cleaned up my lungs
thoroughly. I didn’t dare stop till I reached the end of the trek. I knew if I
did, it would take a huge effort to restart again.
Finally
after much huffing and puffing I reached the clearing where the trek ended. But
there was no cave in sight. I noticed a structure on the top of the hill and
made my way there. It turned out to be a temple.
It had some eerie presence
about it. Claws and horns adorned it. A wooden statue also stood outside. It
looked more like a sacrificial tomb. But such things interest me. I looked
around for any sign of lake, but that wasn’t visible too. Then suddenly I
noticed two workers nearby. I had no idea what they were working on at that
site but they did tell me the direction to the cave. The entrance was well
hidden and very close to the ground. No wonder I couldn’t spot it earlier.
The
inside was completely dark. Now I again debated whether to enter it or not. I
decided to go till the point where some of the light reached. Crouching on all
fours I entered the cave. Once through the inside opened up. But still there
wasn’t enough place to stand. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness for a while.
Then I noticed that the cave went deeper. I went in and now there was just
enough room to stand. The width was much roomier though. Sitting alone in that
darkness with the daylight filtering in through split-holes was a hermit-like
experience. No wonder sages took to the mountains. It provides a calm and
peaceful feeling.
However,
I had some other idea of meditation. I laid down my raincoat and lied on it.
The hip flask was taken out next. The Walkman followed.
I put it on speakers this time. Testament’s cover of Animal Magnetism came on.
Chuck Billy’s roar echoed within the confines of the cave. Riffs struck the
walls and blasted into my ears. The acoustics of that place took the heavy
metal sound a notch higher, to 11. I was astounded. My meditation was
levitating me.
This was followed by Alterbridge’s Couer D’Alene. Myles Kennedy’s
vocal range became even more impressive. Nick Cave (no pun intended) came next,
then Jimmy Page. I felt like sitting in a very private concert. The ambience of
the place had made me finish the contents of the hip flask quickly. The icing
on the cake came when Pearl Jam’s ‘I am Mine’ came on. The song had been
playing on my mind while trekking and it was just so apt to conclude the moment
with it. I was high and high.
I know I
was born and I know that I’ll die. The in-between is mine. I Am Mine.
I stepped
out of the hermit’s lore and started to make my way back. But before that I
noticed a couple of young shepherds and asked them about the location of the
lake. They denied that one even existed at this place. I met some locals a
short distance away and asked them if a lake existed at that place. They
confirmed it and tried to draw a picture of the location. Sensing that it would
be a waste to come all this way and not catch sight of it, I went back to the
clearing. I met the two shepherds again and they took me to a small pool of
stagnant water. It hardly looked like a lake. Even though it had rained in the
past two days, the quantity of water was pathetic. I decided to head back now.
The
descent was swift. Then rode to Laukhandi and had a meal of dal-rice. A simple
and economic but hot, nutritious and tasty meal.
I reached Chakrata before 5
pm. The time of Rides is an undisciplined one, only off the road. I indulge in
lot of unhealthy food. All the healthy food and workouts of weekdays is
forgotten. I explored the market for some food. I thanked the lady that had
cooked the fish pakodas. She named a mutton dish that was served at her
restaurant as a meal. I told her I would be coming later then for dinner. Momos
and noodles were taken as snacks. Then returned to the room and watched
classics and a short nap. Around 7:30 pm I stepped out after a bath.
Unfortunately, Madam’s restaurant had already closed. But now the craving for
meat had taken over. So it was back to Sher-e-Punjab for mutton curry.
I had planned
to leave early the next day so that the huge rush of returning travelers to
Delhi could be avoided. So, skipped drinks for the night and slept early.
20th
April 2014:
Two days
of vacation had passed quickly. Surprisingly, I wasn’t bored as I thought I
would be if alone. I woke up at 5 AM and packed my stuff. By 6 AM, I left
Chakrata. It wasn’t as cold as I expected. I picked up a needy person halfway
down between Chakrata and Kalsi. He looked desperate and folded his hands in
request for a lift. There had been a tragedy in his family and he wanted to get
to Chamoli as quickly as possible. He had been walking for 14 kms from Chakrata
and couldn’t find any mode of transportation. I obliged and dropped him off at
Herbertpur. The man was truly grateful and even made a move to touch my feet,
which always causes embarrassment. The simplicity of hill-people always floors
me.
The early
hours helped in offering little traffic and the distance to Paonta Sahib was
covered quickly. Now came the joyful stretch of bootscraping roads. By now I was
more confident of the shockers and managed a couple of scrapes. But then the
motorcycle’s fuel supply hit reserve. I debated whether to open the throttle or
not as I wasn’t sure of the location of the next petrol pump. But then the
heart won, and the throttle was opened yet again. I wouldn’t get the
opportunity again. It must have been more than 100 kms stretch from Chakrata. The Bullet
deserved a break. This was offered as soon as I entered Haryana and stopped at
the first dhaba.
Now the
layers of clothing began to come off. It had grown warm. Meanwhile, hot aloo
parathas were served with curd and butter. This was turning into a most
efficient ride in terms of timing. As a group we could’ve never covered so much
distance in so little time. I took a break longer than necessary and started
off again, only to stop a km later at a petrol pump.
Here
occurred the first and only bad experience of my ride. I asked for petrol worth Rs 700.
The attendant filled only for Rs 100 and stopped. I again told him Rs 700 and
he started to fill again. During this time a second attendant came to distract
and began to ask about the Bullet. By this time, the first guy filled upto Rs
600 and I made my way forward. It was only later that I wondered whether he had
reset the machine or not. It was much later I found out that he hadn’t. What
frustrated me even more was that I know of this trick happening in Gurgaon and
yet, I had fallen for it again. I should’ve been prepared for slimy nature as
the hill state was left behind now. It is for this reason only that I always
get petrol filled at IOCL petrol pumps. They are much more reliable. Damn, BP fleecers.
On
reaching Yamunanagar, I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. It took a bit
of asking before I reached the Kunjpura Road towards Karnal. I wanted to avoid
the Ladwa route. Misnavigation, another BoP Ride symptom added to the ride.
Tick.
The rural
countryside of Haryana started now. Temperature was rising now and I stopped 30
kms before Karnal to take off another layer of clothing. Also, the Bullet’s
engine needed a cooling as it had been running for about 90 kms now.
I called
up Gyan in case he would come for some beer on the highway at Panipat. He
declined saying that his kid needed to go for vaccination. What a change in
replies in between the years. In earlier times, Gyan was ever-ready for some
beer.
Another
way of looking at it is it that I was still at the same place I was earlier.
But I don’t regret my choice. It’s just a question of priorities.
I crossed
Karnal and then quickly Panipat. The time was past noon. The temperature was
very high. The traffic was expectedly light. I wasn’t expecting any of the
other motorcycle groups returning at the same time as me, unless they were
returning from Chandigarh. This time I halted for a cool-off break right after
crossing Samalkha. I just laid out on the Bullet enjoying the cool breeze in
the shade, and of course the hip flask, reflecting on the past two days. My
pose must have been something like this:
Well, not exactly, my legs were towards the headlight.
The ride had
gone pretty well quite unexpectedly and without a moment of boredom. Now I was
heading back into the daily struggling world. The post-ride depression began to
kick in. it was at this moment of reflection and foresight that the Harley
group crossed me. I bet they wouldn’t have visited beyond Shimla to return so
early, even with the speedy Harleys.
The
moment of reflection also increased my rage towards the rest of the club
members. This rage kept me disturbed till the rest of the day. I sure hope this
lethargy is just a phase and not a habit. When I returned to Gurgaon in Jan
this year, I was repeatedly pressed to plan rides so that the club could
revive. Four rides had been planned since then and the ones who pressed the
most, didn’t come for any of them. This pent-up rage would be released on those
responsible.
The
travel to Gurgaon was uneventful and I reached at 3 pm. For tradition’s sake, I
called up Nishant to cheer for the ride completion ceremony, this time with a
pint of Kronenberg 1664.
So completed
my first solo ride experience. I would say it was quite enjoyable. It has really
prepared me for future rides in case no one else is interested, which seems
highly likely to happen henceforth. The angry moments aside, I really enjoyed
my solo experience and wouldn’t mind going solo hereon. I wouldn’t let my
passion die if I don’t find companions. Who would want to miss scenes like this?