And it rained... really? where?

As promised, here is the installment of words and pictures which will describe how four nuts set out to reach Yercaud and only three reached Ottacamund...

Paddy, as I have mentioned earlier, was the instigator of this ride. We were scheduled to get four days of holidays on account of Independence day and a days CL on Monday. As the marked day to depart crept on us, Ketva (K)realized that his bike papers were not in order. Surprisingly, he did not vacilate on the idea of a trip! Paddy though had become non-committal for the past few days. That left five people and two bikes. In the meanwhile Dinga, after being appraised of the monsoonal plans opted out, which suited us fine (Hopefully Dinga never gets to read this!). The location though, was not certain.

As luck would have it, Gurubhai, from the Cyanide factory up north, was visiting the nether regions. Googendra was back in town after his tryst with the Himalayan Yaks and Yetis. Sufficient enough to call for a party, which sadly never happened, unless you call dinner at Nagarjuna followed by ice cream at Corner house a party. Nevertheless the entire gang met up for the first time since we departed from the hallowed portals of Manipal and that was more important. That it also served as a venue to recruit more bakras for the trip is a different story! While Googendra regaled us with his stories which involved a Yak, a Kraut, and a rickety Jeep, the food was served. Paddy, unfortunately had had an accident (minor) earlier in the evening, so he ruled himself out. And no one else displayed enthusiasm in getting sore butts, leaving only four people and two bikes on a trip to where? God knows!

Over ice cream, we debated about the sanity of even going on a ride given the weather forecasts. It was settled that we would proceed only so far as there was no rains. The minute we encounter a sheet or rain, that shows no signs of subsiding, we'd turn back. (Hello! Doesn't matter if we turn back, we'd still be stuck in rain) Our convoluted logic is evidence enough of the mental torture a "conventional" IT job puts us through! We were that desperate to get out of Bangalore and smell the unpolluted air of the countryside.

Nowhere near the destination are we? I told ya so! I wanted to go to Ooty, but I had promised the guys Yercaud. Baburao opined that there was pretty much nothing to do there. "You wont like it. I bet!", he exclaimed. Then Oodies, my ex-roomie, volunteered, "The roads suck big time man". We were now really not sure. Then he gives us the missing piece in the jig-saw puzzle, "But that was when RG died". Which led to another heated debate, about the exact date and time of Mr. Banana-man's assassination. God bless his soul. All said and done, we decided to stick to Yercaud. The rendezvous point was decided upon as Airport road, outside Leela and we went our ways back home. I took a slightly longer route though, having a long chat with Gurubhai and riding on Bannerghata road for the first time in my life! Got back home, packed the saddle bags and then hit the sack.

I am little hazy about what happened in the early hours of Saturday, it certainly comprised of a visit to the local petrol pump (only Shell will do for his highness), a partial breakfast at home (courtesy Grandma) and being present at the Leela Palace with Kates as the pillion a good hour later than decided. Vatsa, poor bloke, was already there. And after the initial "Hey macha. Haven't seen you since college" moments we set out to pick up VSK from his abode near Kids Kemp. That done a few minutes later, we tackled the first problem of the day. Breakfast. Where do we halt to breakfast? Kates, as usual, knew the perfect place. It was off the outer ring road, near Googendra's ex-home. Some where en-route, it started drizzling. I kept thinking, "This isn't good. No. Certainly not good". I sensed a similar unease wafting the in air, at the breakfast table. Someone, don't know who, suggested, "Why not Ooty?", I could have danced all night, I could have danced. Danced all night... Well you get the picture, I was elated and seconded the idea without hesitation. Then came the inevitable, choosing the correct route and reorienting ourselves for a trip to the misty Nilgiris. The easiest route, we determined, was via Mysore and Nanjangud. Thus we set out, to Ootacamund at the proverbial drop of a hat riding an extra 40 kms in bad Bangalore traffic.

The best part of leaving a busy bustling city teeming with traffic, is that you never realize where the city ends and where the countryside begins. In our case, this phenomenon was accentuated by not taking the more nondescript national highway and taking the more modern state highway to Mysore. The state highway is the state government's gambit to undermine the work undertaken by the NICE group. Whether the move pays off politically or not, only time will tell but the commuters benefit immensely. I will not digress into a political discourse on the merits of government-industry competition, but surely we the citizens have a lot to gain, provided the competition is healthy. There isn't much that I can add about the charming stretch of tarmac that lies between Kengeri near Bangalore and the Mysore outer ring road. The only updates I can provide is that the roads have been redone in the towns of Chennapatana and Ramnagaram, which had borne the brunt of last year's treacherous rainfall. The road is more or less complete, baring a few diversions near a couple of bridges. The bridge on the river Cauvery to the east of Srirangapatinam has been thrown open to traffic towards Bangalore. The old bridge still services the traffic towards Mysore and should suffice for some time to come.

As usual we halted at two places, whenever Kates and I travel this road, we invariably take a halt at these two spots! One near a desolate stretch adjacent to the railway track a little outside of Ramnagaram. This is the first stop, while our butts get accustomed to the uncomfortable seats of the Thunderbird. If is a good point and we left our biological marks by the railway track. After a little readjustment to the distribution of luggage, we set off onwards towards Mysore. This was Vatsa's first time on a long ride on his Thunderbird, so we kept a more manageable speed or 80kpmh. It was quite tempting to let the throttle go where it loves to go, but economy and sense prevailed. 80, I believe is a good speed for any vehicle on our roads. The rider is more at peace at this pace, our bikes are stable and muted thump of the Thunderbird is music to the ears.

Someplace before Mandya our reverie was broken by a red scooter, which zipped by. Overtook a Royal Enfield! The bikes were insulted and we took off behind that rouge scooter, which had broken the shackles of bike hierarchy, to investigate. I confess, I went behind that scooter to ascertain its make, since I had not seen it on our roads before. It is an entirely different story that the pillion was a chick and I'd like to believe that I am not that desperate! After a few kilometers I did manage to catch up with the red scooter, it was the new Kinetic Blaze. What a beauty! The scooter, not the chick, she was wearing a helmet. If anyone asks me what I think of the Kinetic Blaze, I will congratulate the bugger on making a fine choice for a scooter. It looks sturdy, and apparently handles quite well at high speeds (for which I can vouch). But not ideal for the nifty zip and zap that city traffic requires. Just before Mandya we halted at the other usual spot. This halt let us catch our breath after being beaten fair and square by a scooter and take stock of our physical conditions.

A few months back, I made the blunder of going on a similar long trip, with beat shock absorbers and a prerequisite for this trip was the new gas shocks. The gas shocks were good as far as performance was concerned, but a sad side effect an increase in the height. This resulted in an anticipated shift in the center of gravity and the consequent imbalance that the bike displayed, especially at high speeds. We discussed this issue at length at this halt apart from the our own physical status. VSK was having a tough time sitting on my bike. He was complaining of a backache and I suspected that the new shocks were effective enough. He agreed to sit with Vatsa, while Kates sat behind me and we set off on the last leg of the trip towards Mysore.

A little ahead of Mandya we saw, for the very first time, a pileup. Four cars were involved, thankfully there were no injuries. A cursory observation revealed that there was a speed breaker ahead and all the four drivers had missed noticing the speed breaker ahead sign, which is entirely possible, given that it was camouflaged behind a plethora of political banners. The first one would have braked hard when he saw the impending travel to outer space only to be nudged hard in his posterior by the trailing car. From then on, it was a perfect example of car concatenation. Three cars , two Honda cities, suffered major damages in the engine and boot regions, while two cars got away with broken bumpers and a dented boot. The first car “responsible” for the pileup was no where to be seen, and we caught up with it near Srirangapatinam, the boot region was a mess! I have a sinking feeling that we'll see more of these pileups as the roads improve.

Without further ado, we reached the Mysore ring road, and took a short break to decide the future course of action. VSK, as you recall, had complained of a bad back, which was thanks to the late night “party” at Corner house, and the early morning wake up call. He was emphatic about being unable to go any further in this condition. He volunteered to go back to Bangalore by bus, and the cold hearted people that we were, we agreed to that proposition. At that instant of time, it looked quite practical, he couldn't sit on the bike, and there was no point in going back to Bangalore behind a bus. The other factor, that was to be considered was, that Dana, VSK's ex-rommie from Manipal, was working at Infosys, Mysore and VSK called him up and Dana invited VSK to stay over. So the next stop was the Infosys campus at Mysore. It is around 12 kilometers from the ring road, towards the North. We did not go inside the campus, but the view from the outside revealed a contemporary architect gone berserk!

Dana, was waiting at the gate to receive VSK and after the usual “Hey macha, long time no see. You have put on weight since college”, we went our way. Towards the ominous looking gray clouds that seemed to envelop the Nilgiris, reduced to three people on two bikes.

And it rained... really? where?