Goobi's Soggy Shit

I’ve always been fascinated by world tourers. To just take a bike, saddle up, and ride across countries for no real reason besides giving a big “up yours” to world you leave behind. To be free. I too plan on making one of those long trips, but as with all things, walk before you run. I made a plan to go to Bangalore, mostly because buddy ol’ pal Bling is studying there so a casual visit was planned.

The lion wanted to join me, but dropped out at the last. Not important.

I finally got my bike registration papers, gave it in for its three month service, and was all set to leave at 4 p.m. one Friday evening. I did leave. From thereon, began a series of mistakes which I asses started even before I left. I didn’t sleep properly, so I started with dreary eyes. I reached Karwar, 120kms from home, by which I was totally exhausted and sleepy. Hadth the dinner, and checked into a lodge. My sleep timings, whereby I sleep during the day and work during the night didn’t allow me to sleep one bit. Finally at 3 a.m., which is a lot of rolling around mind you, I had enough. I left for the epic journey, 600 kms ahead of me.

Sleep deprived and ready to go

The planned route was to go along the River Kali, up the western ghats into Dandeli, then hit the NH-4 super highway at Dhargal. I made this plan looking at Google Maps. What an epic fail that was. At Karwar I asked for directions from the lone goods carrier passing by, and he warned me against going via Dandeli. “Your bike won’t make it”.

“How bad can it be?”. I had to prove it to the gods that my bike is indeed capable of everything.

That shed I’m talking about below

After 50 kms of seeing absolutely no civilization—no trucks, no houses, no street lights—I reached the road of death. It was more like a river bed lay there. With sharp rocks. I was as I could see, fucked. I decided to brave the road. Effective speed a good 7kmph. I was shit scared for my tires, my shoulders were killing me from dodging the rocks, and I couldn’t stop because the dark forest meant a fucking panda bear could swing in from anywhere. I almost gave up, but after 6kms of this I found a checkpost. The guy said another 3kms of bad road. It was 20kms. Wasted two hours on this ordeal.

As soon as I finished the bad road, it got cold. And to make matters worse, the zipper of my leather jacket gave way halfway through. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore, and hid in a little bus stop. It was still too cold for me to get any sleep, so I just lay there shivering. The sun comes up—praise the lord.

As I look back, there were some amazing pics I could have shot. The bad road. The checkpost. The mysty curves. But at the time all I could think was I GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!

I finally hit the NH-4, and there awaited another big mistake. The NH4 as many know is one long piece of straight road, right through the deccan plains. And when they say plains, they meant fucking plains. I couldn’t do anything but sit on the bike, pull the throttle to 90kmph, and wait till the horizon inched closer. Only to find more road. I had to go through 480kms of this boring road, half of which was being reconstructed so there were some rough patches.

I did get a little nap under the tree though.

Bangalore sucks. It’s nice meeting a friend there n all, but for a biking trip I think the destination should have been a little more scenic. First of all getting directions is the worst thing ever—they all speak some kind of Arabic. After finally getting them to speak some broken Hindi, a crucial bit of mis-calculation dawned upon me. Their 50% Hindi plus my 50% Hindi didn’t make 100%. It was more like a goat trying to buy its way into disneyland. Directions in Goa are so much simple—”Go straight”.

At a McDonald’s, going through a Maharaja burger

Bling had exams coming up on Monday, so he could only devote Sunday morning to his Goan friend. I don’t blame him—mine was a surprise visit.

I left on Sunday evening, with one crucial piece of advice. Which was, to fix a zipper, you need to rub a wax candle along the line. I bought one and it worked fantastically. The journey back was 10 times more pleasant. To start with, I hit a lodge after covering around 300kms, so the journey was properly split in half. Second, I took the NH206, which is much more scenic than the NH4. Third, I strung my backpack onto the backseat, so my back didn’t have to carry the load, light as it was. Fourth, I exchanged my flimsy bedsheet for the world’s most amazing blanket which bling bestowed upon me.

I hit a lodge at Bhagravhdki (or something like that), the smallest room I’ve ever been in. Still, all I needed was a clean place to stay, so it did just fine. At 4 I was up again, so I doodled around with the iPhone for a bit, you know, checking maps, twitter, shit like that. At six I was out again, and oh my fucking god it was freezing. Within 15 minutes my fingers had gone numb. I could tell since I couldn’t use the clutch very well. I prayed that if the time came to brake, I’d have the courage to pull that off. Remember, the FZ’s rear brake is useless since it’s front-weighted.

You might bring up that point about warming one’s hands by resting them on the hot engine. I’ve tried that before. What you don’t realise, is that while you can’t feel it, the engine is burning your skin. Only light taps are fine, or I would end up with blisters. I did find some villagers beside warming themselves with their little campfires; I made the best of it.

There’s no much I can say about the rest of the journey. I rode. It’s a lot different from what one is used to on the regular commute. It’s different from what I had imagined. The bike performed admirably, as the ghats were a pure delight to go through. Right amount of power, balance, and speed. I had imagined I’d take a lot more pics than I did; I didn’t. Most of scenic moments with soft light were in the wee hours of the morning, but the fucking cold was a bitch. In the afternoon the sun is way too strong for photography.

Rest assured, I’ll be making another trip somewhere awesome, real soon. And I’ll be better prepared for sure. I’m addicted.

“Right click » Open link in new tab” for larger version.