It was 4.30 A.M, as my mobile sprang to life with a screeching alarm. I woke up giddily, still uncertain of the moments about to unfold. I decided to ignore the pessimism in me as I splashed some cold water across my face. I switched on my bike, with the engine roaring to life; and jutted out towards the Yeshwantpur flyover. Empty roads stared back at the emptiness of my soul, as I changed gears to look forward.
I met my troupe as we awaited for the remaining to arrive. Meanwhile, a guy arrived on his personal 150 cc scooter. A few of them raised doubtful eyebrows about his ability to sustain through the trip. But, I was not surprised! An earlier friend of mine had clocked 900 KM on a 125 cc scooter. That included night riding, off-roading, and some hilly regions as well. Hence, I was pretty confident about him seeing it through till the end with us.
We moved to having breakfast after clocking 100 KM at a heavenly 115 KM/hour on an excellent highway. The open dosa was a delight to have for all of us.
I had never undertaken trekking earlier. As we parked into Mullayangiri, we trekked to the top of the peak. The view turned out to be breath taking.
The Foggy Silhouette
Post Mullayangiri, we rode to Bababudangiri, completely unaware of what was in store for all of us. As dusk set in, we rode like a chain of lamps, supporting each other till we reached the peak top. We began attaining height, with a dense cloud of fog upon us.
An hour into the dusk, the fog thickened and attacked us from the front. The attack made us forget the indeterminacy factor to zero, as we witnessed something exuberant. On approaching the upcoming twists long the road, the fog began reflecting our shadows. It felt as if I was being accompanied by another biker on my side, complete with helmet and all!
The Plateful Campfire
I took to lying on my bike sky-facing, as the stars shown brightly. It was a poetic sight. The air began to grow chillier as a few left to hunt in the wild for dead wood. With great difficulty, we managed to rummage through the nearby area and discover some wood. It was sufficient to light up but not sustain through the night. This was the first time pollution actually saved us. We found an area strewn with used paper plates. It was those plates that helped us sustain the campfire till the wee hours of the morning. I should definitely mention my teammate Sachin, as we teamed up to take turns to sustain the fire while others slept.
The beautiful part of these moments was that I did not feel even once that I had met these guys just a few hours earlier. We talked, shared stories as a great camaraderie brewed among us.
The Incessant Boxing
For those of you who have never tried their hands at boxing, one should know that when you kick a boxing bag, you end up creating a big booming sound. Which is what happened to us within our tents.
Despite arranging our bikes in a circular fashion, and setting up our tents amidst them, there was no respite from the extreme winds. We were constantly berated with huge sounds as the high intensity wind crashed onto our tents.
The volley of attacks on the tent and the subsequent torrent of blowing winds actually made me believe that the tent had torn off and blown away. I had to wake up twice to ensure that our tent did not tear away.
The “High” Pitch
We had to cross a reserve forested distance of 22 KM to reach Kemmangundi from Bababudangiri.
But we made a quick 5 min stop in between to cool down our bikes. I ended up breaking into a song in front of complete strangers; despite the fact that the area is famous for tigers!
South Indian Food
I might digress a bit from the topic. Yet, I really do not get why people fight over the best cuisine/dish in the country with a pot load of arrogance. When push comes to shove, even the ordinary things start looking good.
Post clocking 350 KM and primarily a sleepless night, receiving hot food on cushioned seats was relaxing. It consisted of the standard South Indian curd rice and pulse with rice.
But, it was the most delicious I had ever tasted! A few of us then dozed off in the outer courtyard for a power nap, which felt no less than a spa to me.
The out of the box Product Manager
Being the opportunist product manager that I am, I instantly tapped my ability to connect with people. I brought in the concepts of product management to render in front of them, a different perspective of the trip.
The Bond breaking the Unknown
Indeterminacy, can be termed as a prelude to a conjecture. In other words, a lack of a decision item may lead to an opinion formed on the basis of incomplete information. This was definitely not the case in this outing. We were strangers at 4.30 AM on Saturday morning. And by Sunday late night, we hugged each other with a broad smile as we parted ways.
As we constantly changed gears on our beloved machines, the implications of indeterminacy were removed. It transformed into a strong bond of trust between the riders. This led to every one enjoying the trip to the utmost. And excitedly look forward to the next meetup.