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 18^th 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 18^th April. This would be the first 3 day BoP Ride.

18^th 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.

19^th 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.

20^th 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?