Bangalore HASH Run No. 442 – The Trespassers Run

Sunday, 10th June.
My last run with the Bangalore HASH was the run 412, I missed 30runs!!
With the shoe clinic by Doc (Dr. Rajat Chauhan) in the morning and the clash of the titans at Roland Garros inviting me to the idiot box, it was quite an effort to get my bum on the saddle.
Our Native Village: The run was at this place called ‘Our Native Village’, arguably India’s only eco friendly resort. Set in the middle of fields near Hessarghatta, there is evidence that it probably is. I was told that the electricity was generated by solar panels, Gobhar gas and a chotu windmill and a natural swimming pool which uses aquatic plants for water purification. The place is run by a very enthusiastic CB (Sibi) who is himself a passionate runner.
There are two routes to the place. You have to take a right turn at the Hessarghatta cross on Tumkur road and drive up to Hessarghatta. The other one passes through Jalahalli Air Force Station and lot of villages on a very winding route to Hessarghatta. You need to take a right turn at Hessarghatta on the route to Taj Kuteeram. About half a km before the final right turn to Kuteeram, take right into a dirt road. Continue on this “Road to the Sky” for 1.5kms, take right at the T-junction and follow the road to the windmill and the ONV resort.
Road to the Sky: While the entire ride was good, I can’t forget the last leg. As you get into the dirt road, the shrubs have given way to the grasslands. The grass was lush green with remnants of a downpour in some places. A gradual incline to the road created an illusion that the road actually went nowhere. The green of the grass only met the blue of the clear sky all along the panoramic horizon, except where the road went. As I rode into the sky, savoring every bit, the view panned out revealing a single row of trees, drawing a boundary to the splendid view. The road ended at those trees.
The run itself was fantastic, with over 40 hashers including some very beautiful ladies. There were loads of false trails, a few long ones, I took at least 6 of them. Like always, there were lots of unbelievable imagery of the Hessarghatta countryside. The only sore point was the heat, far hotter than usual. A couple of forerunners confirmed a distance of about 16kms. The virgins (3 batches of them) got iced, a adieu to French fingers, the Abnash’s new shoes ceremony and three generation hashers on ice, were the highlights at the circle.
This one, coming a week after the KFD, Hennur road run has really put my running back on track.
The photographs are courtesy Abnash. For the entire lot check his photoset here.

The Bangalore Midnight Marathon

The Bangalore Midnight Marathon
19th May 2007

I finished the half marathon at 3am, clocking a not-so-impressive 2:22 hours, creating history in what was arguably the first ever midnight marathon.
The marathon was to be the acid test for the success of my knee surgery in Oct last year. My initial target was to just finish in one piece, I started getting ambitious during my training with RFL. After a 90min, 16km practice run during training, I set a sub-2 hour target for the D-Day.
There were 4 runs organized, the IT run (5.5km), half and full marathon and a corporate relay run. The IT run, started at 630 in the evening and had a large enthusiastic participation. This was the first time I have witnessed the start of a shorter run and I was amazed by the energy on the course. There were people of all age groups, running, walking, sprinting, even breaking into a dance step when they passed the Dollu kunita drummers. My colleague, Srini, who had signed up with more enthu than practice, finished in an impressive 40mins.
The atmosphere was festive at iGate grounds. Food courts, flea market and live performances from a lot of local bands. The Dollu Kunita, fire eaters and stick men added to the festivity.
I slipped into office for a couple of hours of sleep before getting back to the venue for the half marathon.
I now train with ‘Runners for life’ for the marathons and we were nearly 50 of us running the half marathon. RFL had thrown a pasta party at Brigade Bistro the previous night and the excitement was in the air. The pasta, desserts, plenty of aloo and rice ensured that I was carbo loaded. Had to make a lot of adjustments for the midnight version, finishing dinner by 4, and getting a good amount of sleep through the day were crucial.
Conditions during a midnight marathon are very different. The circadian rhythm, which brings you up during the day and down during the night, is working against you. Moreover, running in loops accentuates the mental fatigue caused by the lack of sleep.
The full marathon started at midnight and was flagged off by the Kannada actress, Ramya who ran real fast to the starting point. The half marathon started at 0030 and the iGate CEO, Paneesh Murthy did the flagging off honors. Since the starting point was not the same as the finish line, there was a pseudo start and a crowding up at the start.
My first lap of 5.5km took me 35mins, throwing me off target at the very beginning. I pulled one back, 30mins on the second lap. At 1:40 on 3 laps with one last lap to go, I knew this I was not going to improve my timing on this one.
The weather was oppressive, humidity was more than I had expected.
A CNN-IBN interview: (To be read with a Forrest Gump tone)
As I passed iGate a second time, I found a long red object also being stuck up my nose. And a soft feminine voice was asking me, “Why do you run?” A question as fundamental and profound as that, and I had like 1sec to come up with an answer. By the time the next question came up, “Any reason for running the midnight marathon?” I had my wits back! I said, “at least you don’t have the sun for once”. They liked the reply so much, that it came up on TV, a lot of times (I presume) on CNN-IBN. So if you saw some creature with a brain band, jumping up and down in front of camera on Sunday, that was me.
The video is available on this link here, watch it while it lasts.
I was contemplating for the next 10mins about what all I could have said in those 4secs that could have changed my life. Either I didn’t think hard enough, or nothing can change my life, for I kinda drew a blank.
Anyways, as I was running with all these thoughts, passing a cursory glance at the onlookers and suddenly recognized Freya, Abhi and Vodka from RTMC in the crowd near a U-turn. The next time I passed them, Abhi was loaded with a camera and Esha had joined them. There were quite a few cheer groups and I should thank these people who came out to cheer some weirdoes run in the middle of the night.
I began to feel a slight ankle pain on the last lap and forced me to walk the incline. In the end, I managed only a 2:20min but with, for the first time, no knee pain when I finished. The ACL surgery has indeed been a success.
Minute maid was available for free for everyone at the finish line. Well, that is just a new drink from pulpy orange. Medals were given to HM and FM finishers.
Fellow RFLers had done better, but the no. of guys improving on their personal best were few. RFLers bagged the second and third position in the women’s category. Manan from RTMC, who was running his first HM finished in 2:45 hours.
The next 25kms I did in 45mins riding back on my thunderbird, reaching home by 5am. Thanks to the training this time around, post-run recovery was a no problemo. It was a great experience in the end and a night to remember.

Four months to go for the Bangalore Full Marathon on Sep 16th.

Sunken Spirits at Cloud Valley

I am drifting about wildly in a swirl called the ‘quarter life crisis’, trying to find some direction to my life. The mood has definitely been depressing during the last few days; I am simply not able to get rid of the lump in my throat. The group ride to cloud valley at Coorg, set in this gloomy backdrop, was an attempt to clear up some of the obscuration.

The ride started the usual RTMC way, bullets pouring in at town hall till 630, and more guys joining in all along till Bidadi. The initial plan was to ride to Madikeri along Virajpet with the breakfast point at Bidadi. Anil’s 500 which was ridden by bladyphul packed up even before the ride had begun and then a few of us, including the new mod, Centhil, overshot the breakfast point at Bidadi. We finally stopped for poori, dosas and pongal at the coffee day outlet.
To reach Madikeri, take a right off Mysore road, a little after Srirangapatana. Another right turn after about 5-6kms will take you to Hunsur. From Hunsur you can either take the route via Kushalnagar to Madikeri. Or you can ride about 30kms longer route via Nagarhole forest, Titimati, Gonigoppal, Virajpet to Madikeri.
Going against our earlier plan, we took the Kushalnagar route on the (ill)advice of a local. There were bad stretches of potholed roads adding to the traffic on the ghat section; the ride was anything but footrest scrapping. When we regrouped at Madikeri, we had our first casualty. Arun aka naayi roast and prasy had a minor fall on the ghat section, no broken bones, just some dented fuel tank. He managed to dent it in the area where the two thighs meet each other, the tank and the seat ;-)
To reach cloud valley from Medikere, you need to ride along the lush green ghat route to Cherambane and take a left turn off Mithra wines. Cloud valley is an estate about 2kms from there.
At 230pm, the starving riders were treated to sumptuous meal. The non-veggies freaked out on pandi and koli curry, I settled for the pulav and daal and some very refreshing RC beer.
Meander to Misadventure
When the evening came, Prashee suggested we ride down to the river bed. 6 bullets took off, mindless of the dark clouds brewing up. The off-roading experience was awesome. We had to ride down a muddy lane leading right into the river bed, and ride across in silencer deep water. When all the bullets were over on the other side, the skies opened up. In coorg, when it rains it pours. Within minutes we were drenched completely. A lot of the slope we had used on our way down started to slide into the river and we decided to ride up whatever was left of it, before it became too slippery. Imagine this, a bullet is stuck half way up in slush, the rear wheel is high on rpm and spraying a thin sheet of slush around… and the rider needs help to push through. I got a first hand experience of what it feels like to have mud in your balls, rain in your eyes and ride like a maniac.
When we reached base, we were a sight to see!
Madikeri, like any other town, shuts down early. Pimpley and Prashee kept us transfixed with anecdotes of their rides even as the electricity flickered on and off. I had an early dinner and slipped into a slumber even as the story telling, the partying, singing and dancing continued well into the night.
I can’t curse myself enough for sleeping till late and missing a wonderful opportunity to ride at the crack of dawn with vijayraghavan and sam, in the mist to Talakaveri. I woke up at 8, not discerning if the thumping was in my head or in the frontyard.
Uday and Hem, our hosts at Cloud Valley, were at the top of hospitality ensuring that we were comfortable. Breakfast of Puttu and chutney, went in easily, round after round.
With naayi roast, having to fix a puncture, the start was delayed slightly, and we left the estate at 11.
A series of disaster events followed. First, the group was split, we got lost, and as we were back tracking, Tiger’s earthing wire burnt out, leading to one hour delay before we could get back on the right road. If that was not bad enough, naayi roast, who already had more than his share of bad luck, had another major fall. The rear tyre of his thunderbird, burst while he was doing good speed, sending him and prasy crashing on the highway. Although he riding gear protected him, prasy and the TB could not escape the impact, fractures, bruises on both of them.
The Highway is no more mine
I had left the larger group by this time and after a samosa break at Hunsur, had made it almost non-stop to Mandya. Mysore road had heavy traffic of cars and bikes all the way to Kengeri and to add to this were the sand laden trucks, spraying sand as you pass by. Maybe it’s a good idea to throw some paint pellets on their windscreens when you overtake them. Back home, my apartment’s interiors are being done and I had to get back early to be able to meet up with the carpenter. I rushed back without a break and was home by 530.
Although, there were some memorable moments on and off road on this ride, the mood as I hit the sack that evening, was no less depressing than what it was when I started.
Hot baths are good cures for depression. I should have just tried that in the first place. Sometimes it takes a tankful of fuel before you can think straight.

photos courtesy Centhil (aka Bakery)

Heading West to ShravanaBelagola

Date: 05 May 2007
Distance: 150kms from Blore
Route: Bangalore > Nelamangala > Kunigal > Yediyur > ShravanaBelagola


To bring in a refreshing change in style, I shamelessely indulge in plagarism, straight from Shreyas Blog http://shreyasg.wordpress.com/ My batchmate at L and bitten by the travel bug off late, holds no bars in showering those praises on my bullet. Check out the post here.


Excerpts:

"I may soon author a research paper titled ‘Why do planned trips never work and unplanned ones rock?’. Yet another weekend trek plan to Kodachadri hit rough waters and it seemed I was destined for two days of wholesome sleeping and growing fatter. But, I chose to fight destiny (aha!).
A 11:00 am call to Manoj, a 11:10 am confirmation from him and the destination decided and a 11:30 am exit from my house. This was going to be my first trip with Manoj, the eternal tripper and also a constant inspiration for my own jaunts and fitness-enhancing activities. I reached his place by 11:45 only to find his Thunderbird idling, all set for a 150-km ride to Sravanabelagola."


"‘Not very imposing’ was my first thought. For some reason, I had always pictured the statue to be much, much taller, thanks to the TV coverage. I was slightly disappointed but nonetheless it is a magnificient structure, sculpted out of a single piece of rock. Few more rounds and snaps later, we started the walk down. Much faster this time, we (ok, I) regained our strengths through couple of Cornettos and by 4, we were heading off for the ride back home."





For more of these fotos, simply click here.

One night on SkandaGiri

All week long I tread the customary life… I crib, I swear, I binge, I ogle, I flare and during this weekend, I FORGOT.
At 2:30am, as my feet firmly perched the loose mud and rock, even as the backpack slipped down to the ground, I forgot my mediocre life, some 800ft below me. My limbs forgot the strain of the 3 hour trek to the top. I forgot my orientation as my eyes closed, leaving my bare chest to brave the gust of wind, threatening to blow me off the cliff. I forgot time, I forgot pain, I forgot myself and I, was at peace.

Back to Basics is the informal group of ‘Mafoi’tes, ex-Mafoites and friends who attempt to get back to basics over weekends. As a friend of a ex-Mafoite (read Raghu), I got invited (I have this feeling thou, that it was my bullet that got invited, Raghu needed the ride more than the rider).
At ground zero, confusion was rampant. The meeting time changes from 6pm to 6:30, the meeting point changes from opp Columbia Asia hospital to Sanjay Dhaba, the no. of trekkers go up to 22. And with a group as large as 22, even a dinner stop at Sangeeta dhaba meant crisscross of calls among the 2 bullets, 3 bikes and 3 cars, stoppages and more stoppages. Roti, daal, egg burgi and fried rice were served in buckets at Sangeeta dhaba.
To reach Skandagiri, proceed on NH7 towards Devanahalli and Chikballapur, take a left turn (at the Vishveshwaraih statue) towards the Town Police station. About 1-1.5 km take a right turn at the municipal hall, another 5-6kms will take you to Om Kara Jyothi Ashram, in all about 60 odd kms from Bangalore.
We reached the ashram at 11pm. Bhaskar struck a deal with a localite Govinda to guide us to the top. The group was an unusual mix of fit and not-so-fit guys and gals. We were trekking in the night with torches and moonlight. A small sub-team of Bhasker and others lost their way and could only join us because of the mobile network.
The trek itself involved climbing up mud and loose rock and some serious steep rock climbing too.
I was kinda irritated with the behavior of the larger group, chattering loudly and polluting the soothing silence the hills have to offer. In stark contrast to my previous trek to KP, where we made it a point not so much as to even speak, the campfire was not considered at all.
I took off ahead with the ol’ guide for a brief stretch and fell back sometimes all in an effort to find the silence back. As the night grew on, an ancient fort came into view. We trekked around the fort to the top, to a temple, the breeze welcomed us. I stood for what seemed like a infinite length of time taking in as much as I could. My shirt was off by now, with my arms outstretched, I only needed a pair of wings (or better still, a Kate to complete the scene a la The Titanic).
Leaving the others to fight out a campfire, Raghu and I settled into our sleeping bags to make most of the couple of hours left for sun up. (I like the sound of ‘sun up’).
I woke up at 530 hoping for a cloudy sunrise. With my chotu tripod and the Nikon S10, I captured some good pics of the sunrise. Cameras snapped to frame the spectacular landscape; we started the descent at 7am.
We descended following a steeper, shorter route. Raghu, Divya, Ssomething (right, I forgot her name too) and I were together for most of the climb down. We managed to find our way down, amidst shrubs, thorns, dead ends, strained calf muscles and broken toe nails.
Raghu and I had a quick breakfast of bread dipped in jam and took off quickly to cover the 70kms home. My butt settling on the leather of the bullet’s saddle was the most pleasurable feeling in all morning.

Fotos are available at: http://pics-by-manoj.fotopic.net/c1269363.html

Maintenance Log

My First experiment with spreadsheets.google.com and I am impressed.



Click on the log and use arrows on your keyboard to scroll through the list.

Devarayana Durga

Butt..er (that’s me at RTMC, click here to see why) figured 25th in the unending list for the Devarayandurga ride. Factoring in the RST (RTMC stretchable time), I reached Mekhri circle at 6:45, just as Tiger was setting the rules for the ride.
We were 41 bullets that thumped the roads as we headed on NH-4 towards Hosur. What was surprising was the turn out of the regulars, easily out-stripping the newbies. As the first lot arrived at Pavithra Hotel, just after the second toll gate, looking for yummy tatte idli, we were welcomed by drawn shutters.

We had to settle for the regular idly, vada, dosa breakfast at one Kamath Hotel opposite to SIT college. One thing when you are being ‘led’ in a group ride, you don’t seem to remember the route too well. We took a right at Tumkur, the road that leads to Mahugiri. It was a spectacle to see the trucks and cars wait for the train of Bulls to pass. The next regroup point, albeit unplanned, was when Kripa (now chota KS) punctured the rear wheel. We took a right turn off that road and yet another right turn at the dead end. I can’t remember too well but there was a sign board that then led us to climb up to the temple atop DevarayanaDurga.
A few others had found other shorter route to the top. It was blazing hot by the time we got there. We stuffed our riding gear into Rakshas’ car and climbed upto the temple. The view from the top is awesome, but the heat made enjoying the view, impossible.
Close to noon time, we headed back. While the group stopped over at Namada Chilume Park for the RTMC circle and introduction rounds, I headed straight back alone, riding via Kyathasandra and NH4.

There are a lot of places to visit in this zone. This map displayed near Namada Chilume is very useful.

Date: 24 March 2007
Total Distance: 150kms
Route: Various (look at the map alongside).

Bangalore-Yercaud-Salem-Yercaud-Salem-Bangalore

It was yet another long weekend. My plan for the weekend was swinging widely between a 500km ride to Munnar to playing couch potato. Inertia was taking over, as I prepared myself for a quiet weekend at home.
The tipping point:
I was watching with awe the kindergarten kids perform at Bishop Cottons Annual school day (my nephew, Rishabh received a prize for academic excellence n all).
All was well until my brother-in-law threw a casual, “Hey, how far is Yercaud from here?”
It was only at 4 in the evening, it seemed possible to join them, I left at 4:30. There was also a new silencer and carburetor to put to the highway test. Yercaud is about 250kms and for most part on the 6-lane NH7, perfect for the testing.
It took me an hour of restrained navigation in the traffic before I could open up. On an empty stretch of Hosur Road, I opened throttle, there was a definite missed beat. For a moment I thought I was imagining things. Robert Pirsig talks about one having to be at peace with himself if he expects the same from the bike. I attributed what I thought was a missed beat, to my conflict of my perceived self and actual self; one ordering me to turn back and conjuring these cheap tricks (while the other made this theory up!).
The theory fell apart as quickly as it came up. The next open stretch and this time, I was looking for it, it was there, a series of missed responses. There was a problem with the new carburetor, the floats that moderate the supply of fuel into the engine was not working in the mid-range. It would work well on full throttle. (I promise I will spruce up the technical section of this blog). It meant I had a situation like in the movie Speed – you can ride only if you are over 100kmph. Just what the doc prescribed, I chucked all plans to abort. At every stop, I spilt some 50ml of petrol from the overflow outlet, I wanted to keep those to a min.
Hosur at 6, Krishnagiri as the twilight faded, another 130 odd kilometers via not so good roads to Dindugal and Salem. Rides in the night are a mental drain for the amount of concentration to keep yourself on road, alive, multiplied manyfold, in this case, by the ‘speed’ constraint. I reached Salem at 9, tired slightly, not particularly happy with my decision to ride in the night.
There is sheer Magic in the cool, crisp, pristine breeze that welcomes you at the ghats. And in the night, it offered an unparalleled spectacle of sparkling diamonds which transforms into Salem city under the sun. The climb of 28kms took me an unforgettable 60mins, rejuvenating me, simply sooper it was.
My sis, bil, and nephews – Rishabh and Aryan were booked at Sterling Resorts, perched right on the hill overlooking Salem. However, this competitive advantage of the location, makes up a bit for the lethargic service.
Any hill station worth its salt must have a lake, a few viewpoints, a waterfall and, of course, all those honeymooning couples. After pedaling the full family across the lake, we left the top by 1pm. At the bottom, I bid goodbye to sis, they had plans of visiting Tirupur about 140kms from Salem before heading back. I decided to carry on, my carb still generously donating petrol to the tarmac. Struck a conversation with an old man on a Luna Super, “All the way to Bangalore! don’t feel tired? etc, etc”.
Yercaud-Salem-Yercaud-Salem
I was well on target to be back home by 5-6. On the outskirts of Salem, I realized I probably forgot the novel “A Suitable Boy” back at the resort. One quick dive into the tank bag confirmed it. Is it true for everyone or is it only me, I do have these strong premonitions or do I simply call it a ‘premonition’ only if in fact it turns into one! That is how weird you think when you have to navigate 20 hairpin bends up and down in 2 hours. But fortunately, the Yercaud ghats are very precise, one right hand bend, a few smaller ones and invariably a left hand turn follows. Left-right-left-right right-left-right-left and I get back to the Salem Airport deviation, exact 2hrs after, A Suitable Boy stowed up safely. But honestly, it was more than pleasurable to take those curves, twice over!
(There is a mischievous plot brewing up with the suitable boy, the fantastic curves, the coming twice, etc, I leave it you to sew it up.)
Salem, Dindugal, Krishnagiri and Hosur came and went in one hour intervals and I was back home by 730.Pleasant ride, a treat to the eyes and lungs and a leaky BS29, that was the ride for me.
Total Distance covered: 540ms
Route: Bangalore-Krishnagiri-Salem-Yercaud.

Value Lanes

Event: RTMC meet
Location: Value Lanes

There is always a wedding ceremony every weekend that my parents want me to attend. All the more reason for me to jump on saddle and ride out. I did just that, on Sunday morning after promising to attend the reception party.
At RTMC we were having our annual meeting at someplace close to Manchinbele dam. I couldn’t make it to the starting point at the appointed 930. With no mobile signal at the venue, and unaware of even the name of the venue, I had to rely on the ultimate signpost – Bullets!!

“Look out for Rajarajeshwari Dental college, an International school on the left side about 5-6kms later and then a right turn leading to $&^% village (name changed upon request, ha ha) off Mysore Road”, “the rest I don’t know, coz we haven’t got there yet”, was all I could get before the signal died down.

Some amount of riding up and down ensured that I found the turn to take. What next? There are two things I knew – the place was some kind of a resort and the track was warm with Bullet marks, at least 25-30 Bullets were supposed to have preceded me. One ruralist said there was one resort belonging to Upendra. Half-baked ones are easy to mislead and from then on, I was asking for Upendra’s resort. While one took a lift in exchange, another zealously enquired if superstar Upendra was in the MUV that had just passed. Fortunately, I caught up with Rakshas who had all the directions to the venue and put those direction-(mis)adventures to rest.

A stretch of dirt road opens to the glassy reservoir of Manchinbele. The backdrop of beautiful hills reflecting off the still waters was truly transcending. The place is more appealing on account of its conspicuous absence of humans.

Value-Lanes

Simply superb place, I say. It is an ideal destination for any rugged outdoor / team building activity. The hospitality of Major Kapoor who runs the place is the cherry on the top. To know more, click here.

The meeting went on in a very civilized (by most standards) manner indeed. I can’t quite say the same thing about the lunch.

We rode back through Manchinbele dam and Big Banyan tree. A great off-roading location and ‘the’ place if you are looking for a quiet Sunday not far away from home.

An announce ride called BLUFF

Bluff

intransitive and transitive verb pretend to be confident: to pretend to have strength, confidence, or the intention of doing something, in order to deceive somebody





I should have guessed this when RTMC announced a ride to Bluff aka Shivanasamudram. Bluff 1: It was supposed to be a ride on road, not off-road.
Bluff 2: Since when did you call tender coconuts, “Breakfast”
Bluff 3: It was supposed to be a waterfall that we were riding to!!!

It was a good turnout at 7am at town hall – Sam (on his F650) and Sumanth, were doing the ride captain honors. Boom, Cup, Anand, Dom (Jawa 350) and Karna joined in. There were lots of newbies – couples, dhoni hairdos, shutterbugs, 19 bullets in all.

First regroup point was Khoday’s Breweries on Kanakpura road. Roads were reasonable till Kanakapura. The restaurant before Kanakapura was closed, the Plan B was to call the ride a diet ride and continue.
As we headed towards Malvalli (root mal = bomb?, halli = village), we were in for a surprise. No bombs and what should have been a road was more like the test bed for rover, the moon explorer! After this one, am sure we won’t be seeing as many pillion riders in the future. Amidst all this, there was this one newbie couple chatting incessantly. Parks (not rides) are places where you go if you want to talk, at least you wouldn’t slow down the sweep (read, sam on the F650) to those miserly 40kmph speeds.
The next pit stop was at Malvalli, Hotel Nisarga (?) for food. Following the principle of Henry Ford, the hotel offered “any customer any dish ordered, so long as it’s a dosa”.
About 15kms from Malvalli, there is a road going to the left. Gaganachukki falls is about 5kms.
It sure was a bad time of the year to visit the falls and we were disappointed (talk about sharing water with TN now). The falls is quite a sight when in its full majesty. Sam gave the hamari paramapara talk at the circle, and intros went around.
We headed back via Maddur and got along full throttle on Mysore road. Lunch happened at 3:30 on this quiet place behind Café Coffee Day on Mysore road. The last regroup point was opposite KaduMane.
In all, yet another good ride with RTMC!!

Total Distance: 140kms
Route: Bangalore > Kanakapura > Malvalli > Shivanasamudram > Maddur > Bangalore

300kms of nothingness

Route: Bangalore > Hassan > Sakleshpur > Gundya > Dharmastala > Bantwal > Mangalore
Distance: 397kms
Thanks to Aero India, the Karnataka Cauvery Bandh was postponed to 12th Feb, Monday, adding the much needed one extra day to my itinerary. I decided to take a detour to Dharmastala en route to Mangalore, where I had to attend the Brahmopadesham of my first cousin’s son, Shreyas.
This was the second trip post-surgery, first solo. Apprehensions were at all time high. I left Bangalore at 6:30 on Saturday. I was so famished on the first leg till Bellur cross, about 110kms from Bangalore, the first bite of the plain dosa was savored by all my taste buds. Apply the law on diminishing returns on a full stomach, and the second dosa will certainly not taste as good (esp. after a couple of idlys).
From there on, I did a continuous 180kms or so till I nearly reached Dharmastala in about 2.5 hours. You have to take a right turn on the Shirdi ghat, 12 kms from Gundya pass. There is only one general queue which leads to the ticket counter at the entrance. A cool 150 bucks for a normal archana or 330 bucks for another archana. I wonder if these profitable temples maintain some kind of finance books. There is nothing on the net on this. Anybody, Anything?
Kambala
I had this terrible headache all the time, and wanted to desperately catch a quick forty winks. The place was swarming with people, it was not quite appropriate and with Mangalore some 70 odd kms away, I thought I would do it at home.
As I was cruising along, there was this sudden festivity around a bend before Beltangadi. I learnt that this was KavaluKote village and a Kambala was on. I had my first encounter with the Kambala Buffaloes on my KP trip. The race was on in full spirit. Clad in leather jacket and gloves, ankle boots and a camera in tow, I got some questioning stares from the crowd. The headache vanished after that brief break and I reached Mangalore at 4 in the evening, to a nap and recharge.

Sunday was the day of the Brahmopadesham while the bullet remained parked at home.

ayyayoo anyaya ayyayoo anyaya
Monday, 12th Feb, was the day of Karnataka’s answer to the Cauvery tribunal verdict. Mangalore I would leave early and being far from the Cauvery basin, was not prone to any protests. I was anxious about crossing Sakleshpur, Hassan and Chanraypatna – all belligerent towns infamous for their mob mentality.
I was only able to leave Hebbar’s by 8am after a good breakfast of Ukma prepared by my loving cousin sister. I left traffic as I reached the BC road, from there on, there was NO traffic on the roads. The ghats belonged to me on that day, I would have passed less than 10 cars/trucks in the entire 300kms.
First stop was at Sakleshpur, which was oddly calm. As I approached Hassan blissfully enjoying the empty roads, I encountered my first road block. At Byrasandra forest check post, a group of about 30 villagers, had the road blocked from all sides. I silently parked in the side waiting for the initial protest to die down. There are sympathizers in any mob and one such suggested I wait for a few minutes and then push my bullet some distance and then ride off. And so it happened.
There were no incidents anywhere else. Road blocks, tire burning, protesters gathering shouting slogans would dot the empty roads, but no stoppages. Hassan, Yediyur, Kunigal, Nelamangala passed without incident. And with 30kms to home, while I was looking at a good 5.5 hours Bangalore-Mangalore record, I encountered the second road block - the highway is blocked with stones, twigs, burning tires. The protesters are typically youth and children, led by one or two local thugs. These leaders are usually drunk and have more than one mandate to fulfill. It is shocking and unfortunate to see kids take up canes impersonating the others, bullying people on roads.
I was made to park and join a group of other unlucky souls, then the ‘leader’ of the group puts a couple of questions and then gets to you shout slogans. And while the bad-mouthing of tamilians continues, we push our bikes across the barricade and ride away.
This charade continues a couple of more times, sometimes the barricades within 500m of the other.
As I neared the city (Jalahalli cross), the crowd grew larger and more belligerent, I took a deviation into one of the villages, rode on near non-motorable kucha roads and hit Jalahalli cross.
Despite the splendid ride, the premonition of namma Bengalooru turning into a social inferno, left a bitter after taste.

Kanva Dam - Back with a Bang

The rehab program, post-op has been reasonably good, more like the volatile stock market. While the overall story has been good, there have been days of dubious stiffness. I have been cycling for sometime now and have been patiently waiting to hit the highway. My cheddi friends Vijay and Gau had come down from states and a trip was always on the cards. We decided to check out the Kanva Dam on the Bangalore-Mysore highway on the Republic day holiday.
Parag and Gau followed us in the cager, Vijay decided to pillion ride. We started by 10am or so.
Yes-Squeeze-Me
Just 400mts and 2 mins into the ride on the ring road near BEL circle, the reality of the highway welcomed me. As I prepared to squeeze out of a gap between a tanker and a truck, something I have done hazzar times in the past sans incident. This time though, the truck moves to the left, forcing me to scrape against the tanker. The crash guard, the foot peg and my leather jacket took the bulk of the impact. Vijay and I had survived, in the words of the good Samaritan in the bike behind us, a truly miraculous escape.
We hammered the foot peg back in place, picked up the pieces of the broken watch and our egos and continued. We took the advice of by-standers and complained to the traffic constable (terrific constable) at the junction. The action he took was to instruct us to ride fast and catch up with the tanker. Can you believe that!
From then on, it was a fairly uneventful ride to Kanva dam. We stopped over at Kadu Mane for breakfast of idlies and dosas.
Kanva Dam
Kanva dam is about 10kms off Bangalore Mysore Highway. Immediately after the Kengal temple near Ramanagara, take a right into a kacha road to Kanva. And don’t follow makeshift hand-written boards made by children to mis-guide you on the way. (yes, you guessed right, we fell for it!!). There is some kind of repair work going on, so you can’t go all the way upto the dam. You have to be contended with walking on the bank of the water body. I did a lot of point and shoot and tried all modes and zoomed in and zoomed out and tired to frame the landscape with my new Nikon S10 camera, till the batteries ran out. Then we headed back.
Lunch happened at a Chandighar Dhaba next to Kamat Lokaruchi. It was not a great place, but a welcome break from the over-crowded and exorbitantly priced Kamat.
In all a very good ride indeed!! (if you stay away from the tankers, that is)
Total distance: 140kms
Route: Bangalore > Ramanagara > Kanva

Hospitalized

Time: 0745 hrs, 16th October 19, 2006
Location: Manipal Hospital, Operation Theatre B

The OT experience:
When I was wheeled into the OT…
I woke up at 6am on Monday – the staff nurse, clad in green, greeted me. He told me to take a bath and get into cotton whites by 730. I felt like the sacrificial lamb readied before halal. It was quite an awkward situation, the nurses were not used to seeing patients up and running before their surgery, “well, I am the patient”.
At 745, two nurses put me on a trolley, and wheeled me to the OT. That is the first time I was on a trolley. All along people look down into you, sad look on their faces – if it was empathy, it sure was misplaced.
The OT in Manipal hospital is in the second floor, I was wheeled in through two sets of doors into the pre-op area. It was shift change over time for the nurses and I was privy to their ‘you-take-my-shift’, ‘landlords-demanding-more-rent’ gossip.
I am skimpily dressed in cotton whites, in this makeshift chamber of white screens, waiting to be wheeled into the Operation Theatre-B. The pungent disinfectant fills the air and the nurses are chatting incessantly in the background. Lying down on the trolley in the pre-op chamber, while lazily rubbing my eyes, an eyelash comes loose. I placed it on the back of my closed fist, closed my eyes, prayed silently for a successful surgery and phoo…

For the next four hours, while I lay half awake (half, as in top half), Dr. Hemanth Kalyan (HK) and his team of surgeons worked on my torn Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL). The OT was a large room with loads of instruments, big boxes with colourful buttons. There must have been about 5 surgeons, 3 anesthetists and 2 nurses. I could recognize Dr. Nishida’s smile even from within the mouthpiece.
As HK got his tools in place – the drill, the saw included, the anesthetist pierced my right hand for the IV and the drips came on. Then they pierced my lower back, the spine area for the anesthesia. In a few minutes, my legs started feeling heavy, and the feet felt as if there were a thousand ants swarming over them. I was told I could watch the surgery on a screen that was visible on my right side. The next thing I saw, a pale leg was being hoisted up by a couple of junior surgeons, it certainly didn’t feel like mine. A digital clock on my left read 8 something. There must have been some sedation injected intravenously coz I slept for about an hour.
When I woke up, a couple of junior surgeons tied up a green screen to prevent me from seeing my numb lower half, and the screen on which I could have seen the surgery live. (I got a CD of the Arthroscope recordings)
I can’t quite recollect the sequence, but I did hear a lot of noises – some scary, some good news, some shocking, some weird. I heard HK say a lot of pass-me-shaver, pass-the-saw, pass me this, pass me thats. I heard a lot of drilling, tapping noises. I could feel these vibrations in my bone. But since the pain was absent, it sent some confusing signals to my brain; it certainly didn’t feel like my leg that was being operated.
There were n no. of times when HK reprimanded a junior surgeon, “don’t you have common sense”, “did I ask you to use your brain”, “don’t you know you have to get a sharp one”, etc, etc. My doddappa, Dr. K G Das, a cardiologist of high repute, told me that a lot of interesting conversations happen during a surgery. That would be quite an interesting compilation to get hold of.
After a while, HK declared that the graft was ready. He even went on to explain the composition of the graft to his juniors. He asked for some marker ink, to color the graft, I presume. Then they started to set the Arthroscopy in place. It was a little later that I started to freak out. HK said, “there seems to be some problem here”. It turned out there was some problem with the source light of some kind. I had to resist my temptation to suggest some tricks myself, even as the surgeons were trying to fix the faulty source light. All kinds of options were being discussed – tilt it around, change of bulb, power cord, replacement of the light source itself. Yeah right, all this while my surgery was still on.
Around noon, they got it working again. By now, the effect of my anesthesia was wearing off and I was able to feel a bit. By putting my neck out, I managed to catch the attention of the anesthetist (who appeared to be smsing or playing a game on his cell or something). HK informed them that there was at least another hour of surgery left and I had to be put on general anesthesia. I was made to breathe out of an inhaler.
The next thing I remember, I was being wheeled out of the OT, with what felt like a real heavy bamboo sticks tied to my left leg and a dry and nauseating feeling in my throat.
I looked at the clock in the post-op, it read 2:30 – lot of time and lot of memories, not a lot of pain, not just yet….

Why Surgery?
For the last four years the ligament has been troubling me, with mild pain after a long workout, run or walk. The earlier frequent buckling of the knee had now disappeared. I decided to get over with it, so I may be good again.
When I started diagnosis with Dr. Kalyan, I was hoping it wouldn’t be a surgery, but then the MRI suggested no other option.

What is ACL reconstruction?
(Time for some education esp with likes of Mary Pierce and Yuvraj Singh’s ligaments due for reconstruction!!)
There is loads of education item on ACL here. (It’s a good site for most medical queries, go check maadi.) It sure is worth a read.
The latest is I am well on the path to recovery now, nearly 3 weeks after surgery. And should fit my running shoes in about 3 months from now.

Addendum 2014:
For the benefit of all those who are visiting the site and curious to know how things panned out, here's an update. I have had complete recovery as far as ACL surgery is concerned. Since then, I have completed about 17 marathons and 3 Ultra marathons and train pretty hard to be among the top 1% of most races in India.
I had a follow up MRI done in 2010 and consulted with Dr. Hemanth Kalyan again, he remarked that the MRI showed good placement of the screws and the ACL intact.
He also featured my progress back to normal life in a article that was published in The Week last year.
Remember, the rehabilitation is perhaps more important than the surgery itself. Take care.

Runner For Life

Date: 8th October, 2006
Distance: 5.6kms
Route: Gandhi Statue > Minsk Square > Cubbon Road > Ulsoor Road > Trinity Circle > Anil Kumble Circle > Gandhi Statue.





In what could be my last outing for sometime, I joined Runners For Life (RFL) on their Sunday morning run. Runners for Life (RFL) is a group of people who are passionate about running. On all of my three previous marathons, I had met and made friends with a few of RFL’s runners. During the last Bangalore marathon, I met Aravind Bharati and the RFL pamphlets distributed at the stadium helped get on their mailing list.
I have been trying to get Buckeet into the running, cycling thingi. We had cycled to lalbagh one other Sunday and walked around the lake in lalbagh. So he was more than eager to join me on the run. But, what is life without challenges, so we said, lets get Tima to run too. Takes me back to Having a Healthy disregard for the impossible quote.
I don’t know how he managed, but when I reached Gandhi statue on Sunday morning, guess who was smoking a ciggie there. By 6:30, there were about 40 RFLers to run as many laps as they could of the 5.6km track.
Dr. Rajat Chauhan runs with RFL too. He advised me against running and I decided to accompany Tima to walk the distance. We took nearly one hour to finish. For once, it did look like the early birds catch the worms, only, in this case the birds were running, and the worms – sizzling hot. Thanks to some focused promo, Red Bull had a two hot uns, get us to try their energy drink. Am not sure if it was the gals or the drink, I sure could have torn some trees after that!
As Gyanender, bucket, I and Tima (donkey at the end) had breakfast at Coffee house, we knew one thing – This is surely not going to be last we are going to run with RFL.
But for me, I will have to take this brief hiatus from biking, cycling, running, et al. A split second (one I can never forget) decision to block a rare powerful kick from an opponent during football four years ago, has left my left (3 left’s in 5 words!!) knee Anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) ruptured. Yes, I silently suffered the pain on my endurance runs/rides all the time. Good sense prevailed; I am getting reconstruction done next week, with rehabilitation taking 3-6 months.
Guess what, I am on spinal anesthesia, meaning, I can be awake and aware as I get operated. So, are you reading my next blog already??

5A on the Highway

I saw…
…One Hundred Bullets parked away neatly
…Undying spirits dance away to the drummin of drunk village drummers
…who only a while ago, sat in rapt attention as http://rtmc.info/ was clicked open
…A hundred hangovers ache at once
…All this and more as RTMC completed its 5 years on the highway.
5A on the Highway at Yercaud!!

Between 1st and 2nd October, about 94 bikes (largely bullets, 5 RD's, 2 BMW F650's and a CBR 900RR, 1 Jawa 350 and a few Yamaha RX's) some 130 leather clad bikers from Bangalore and Chennai, rounded up at Shevroys Resort, Yercaud. Yercaud is this serene hill station about 2000mts above sea level, just outside of Salem.
Day 1: Ride to the Pardy
We started at Bangalore on Sat morning, about 40 odd bullets. The road from Bangalore to Yercaud, for 3 days, was littered with Bullets, what else with 100 odd bulls taking that road. The Krishnagiri road is a speed daemon’s heaven, the RD’s and the beamers freaked the bullets out.
Breakfast happened at the HP station, just after Hosur, we cleaned the restaurant up. There were loads of old-time RTMCians in full attendance – prashy, charul, Adrian, Bumboo, muthu, pp. VC, girish, vodka, vakeel, etc, etc. It was quite an uneventful ride all the way up to Yercaud, except I was caught red-handed (open-mouthed actually) gaping at Dj’s girl friend in the Scorpio as it went past.
At Shevroys resort, Small Moe was doing the watchman duty, getting in some parking discipline. The agenda for the day was registration and pardy! I was sharing the room with Shakti (biscuit) and Ajith pinto. Yercaud had its season of late evening downpours, which pushed the party from the lawn into the hall.
Dj set the dance floor going, the only pain was that the bar was not at the dance hall and one had to pre-mix in mineral water bottles. Bisleri was in ‘high’ demand.
Day 2: Trek, Tech and cha-cha
A few early birds, went on a short trek to savor the estate plantations. Ajith, an almost localite, took us to a ridge atop his sister’s Arabica coffee estate. We then rode a little more to a small water fall nearby.
There were loads of events lined up to Caman The Enjaiment. An?l did the mass Ayudha pooja for all the Bullets – some capacity this poojari had – 100 bullets in one shot!
Then there was a slow biking race (wouldn’t qualify to be called a race, I guess). After the race Sultan and I rode down a bit for some pictures, well, I went with my camera and returned without it. Yes, despite my hazzar efforts this year to keep the lost-n-found list short, I lost it!!
The lost-not-found list for this year is:
Rayban Goggles
A pair of Nikes
Undies (what the…)
Camera
And loads of irretrievable self-confidence
(if you are still wondering what to present me this Diwali, read the list again)
After sulking over the camera and consoling myself that it was depreciated many times over anyways, doc (re-christened toothpick), boom, tiger and I went on the loop ride – 30kms of looping ghat roads.
Then there was this Kabbaddi match, RTMC vs MadBulls, à la David vs Goliath, only this time, Goliath had the sling too!! Our guys literally had mud in the face when they finished 0-2. We should have an online Kabbaddi contest next time (Xbox, take note).
What followed the savage match was a totally citified tech session. Mr. Subash Chandra Bose, the veteran bullet racer, now working in the R&D of Ucal, shared some gyan on the mechanical, thermal and volumetric efficiency of bullets. At the end of this, everyone now wants a BS-29 export-only carburetor.
Soon after, there was this official 5 Anniversary ceremony. Amidst lot of nick-name shouting and start-the-fcuking-show shouts, RTMC video was played, the rtmc.info website inaugurated, the 5A cake cut and duly smeared on the moderators.
Then the chicks hit the dance floor – gurl friendies, wifeys, side kicks – they sure knew how to shake their booty. You were all too bootiful I say. And then we heard commotion at the entrance to the hall. The dance floor had shifted and there was confusing noise. Enter, half-drunk drummers doing the dank-a-naka beats and they hijacked the dance floor. For the next half hour we were head-banging (after a point, literally) to the drummers’ beats - live band, RTMC ishtyle.
Day 3: Bang Bang Bangalore
We started back from Shevroys on the 2nd morning at 9 or so. Not before we stuffed ourselves with pooris, idlis, pongal and bread. An?l had a puncture down the ghat section, 3shoeL and I carried on at sedate speeds, while the rest of them stayed behind. All was fine till I got to Richmond circle, but hey, after having done 250 odd kms since morning, with just 10kms to reach home, “phut” the engine went off. I parked the bullet at the Agro showroom for the night and rikshawed back home.
The weekend was in so many ways the celebration of the undying spirit of freedom which RTMC epitomizes. May you have many more Anniversaries.
Caman the Enjaiment!!

One thousand steps to Chamundi Hills

Its 10am on 23rd Saturday morning. I call up Tima, and excitedly ask him, “hey, tima, where are you?”. “At home”, comes the reply.
In the next 15 minutes, we convinced ourselves it was indeed Tima on the phone and he was nowhere near Mysore Zoo. Standing in front of the chimpanzee’s cage in Mysore zoo, what we were seeing in front of us had so much resemblance, we had to call to confirm. With the faith in evolution reaffirmed, we continued to see the rest of the Mysore Zoo. The first time I saw a peacock with the feathers fully open. The African elephant had 5 legs (!), and a mother was going red trying to explain to her kid why it was so. An area to keep away from, if you are on your honeymoon to keep the expectations under check.
For Tima, the question “but why Mysore Zoo of all the places, da”, occupied his curious (and fairly large) head for the rest of the day, that had just started.
But for buckeet and I, the day was already about 200kms old. We had started, after an sms goof-up at 7 from corporation at Bangalore. A very expensive (12bucks) coffee served in plastic cup at Kamat Lokaruchi woke us up fully. At Ramanagara, we were in the middle of an accident involving a Tata Indica and an Activa, never seen one from so close.
We had breakfast at Gayatri Tiffin room (finding it was like looking for the needle…) in Chamundipuram. Belted yummy masala dosa, plain dosa and idlis at very economical prices.
The plan was to set momentum to our newly launched Single serving project. And climbing the 1000 steps up Chamundi hills, was the alibi. Buckeet’s got some smart friends in Mysore (read, Deepa) who joined us at the Zoo.
We started the climb close to noon. Buckeet had to take loads of stops, before we reached the top, it must have taken us close to 90 mins. Fluids like tender coconuts and butter milk flowed in without any resistance.
I had no room for lunch when we got back, but would not let go the chance to lunch with Deepa. The next thing I remember is Kengeri junction which we had reached non-stop from Mysore.
“but why Mysore of all the places, da?”, wish I knew.

TOI Bangalore International Marathon 2006

Having a Healthy Disregard for the Impossible – Larry Page.
A Marathon is an amazing experience. You wake, get herded behind the line on some empty street, a gun is fired, and you run until you drop. There are no wickets to take or defencemen to manoeuvre around – just kilometers to run. You reach the starting line at dawn on a frigid morning and because the night before you woke in pure panic every 30 minutes believing that you’d overslept and missed the race, you’re already exhausted. Self-doubt arrives shortly after the starting gun. But, by mid-race, this doubt is swallowed by fatigue.
On a rainy evening a year and half later, I can still see the pavement in front of VIdhana Soudha as I struggled to the finish line at the inaugural Bangalore Marathon.
- Johnson in the Sunday Times of India, September 17th 2006.
And even as many are reading this in the luxury of their homes that Sunday morning, I and a few others were living every word Johnson wrote.

The second Bangalore International Marathon was held last Sunday. This time it was a part of a larger Refresh Bangalore initiative, The Times of India the main sponsor. I had started the practice in Aug, running about 50kms a week, but with no news of the marathon, I went slow mid way. With only 10 days left for the marathon, TOI started registrations. In the last minute ditch effort, I cycled up Nandi hills (about 100kms), only to injure my already damaged ligament of the left knee.
The week leading to the marathon was a concoction of feelings – fear, anxiety, apprehension and disquiet, primarily fear. The knowledge of the track (which was same as last time) was the root cause of this. And I had set an ambitious target of 5 hours for the finish. I ran a 5kms on Thursday and spent the next couple of days in nursing my knee. I did this last time too, I sure am not learning from my mistakes.
So, here I was, at 6 am on Sunday morning, running yet another Bangalore Marathon. I spotted a lot of familiar faces from Runners For Life and Bangalore Hash.

What did I find better:

Water stations: The water stations had water till we finished. There were guys around even when I returned home as late a 7hours after the start. Simply sooper, I say!!

Weather: So much better, running in Sep and not in May. I was at Hebbal on my way back when I first noticed the sun.

Things I did better this time:

Timing: I ran the first 13kms in 1.5hours, reached the half way point (21kms) in 2hours 20mins. The next 12kms to Hebbal took me 1 hour 40mins.
By that time, I had done nearly 31kms in 4hours. In the scorching summer in May last year, it had taken me 5 hours to do this!
The next 10-11 kms took me 1.5 hours of a mix of walking and jogging.

Running: This time I jogged without a stop for the first 26kms. Last year, I had stopped before the half way point. And after the 26 also, there were longer stretches of jogging than walking.

Running mate: When I reached Hebbal in just over 4 hours, I was overtly pleased with myself, despite my over-worked joints and legs. It was then, the mind took over and I had gotten walking mostly. In all fairness, I had submitted myself to walk to the finish by then, I had time on my side (the brain conjures many such mirages). And I had this one bad experience last year, running with a state team rowing member, so this time, I wanted to motivate only myself and no other.
Then came Shyam, walking briskly past as we went up the Hebbal flyover. From then on it was his optimism that took me to jogging again. Be it the distance, the sun behind us, the pain in the joints, the killing pain in my knee, the glass was always half full for him. We struck a chord easily with him sharing my passion for ‘thunderbird’ing and ‘hero hawk’ing. We finished together in 5 hours and 30mins.

How Bangalore played host:
The finger: There was this one pot-bellied middle aged man, waiting for the traffic to clear, who was shouting at the runners in Kannada, "if you run like this, you will fall sick". The least you can do to help, my fellow Bangalorean is to keep your crapping mouth shut. I had to show him The Finger.
The Applause: Shyam and I were nearly crawling on the 37km mark, near high grounds police station. One constable was rolling up the police-do-not-cross tape, the moment he saw us, he put the tape down, ran off to avoid coming in our way and stood to applaud us as we passed him. A small gesture, it made my pain disappear.

The Medal: Unlike last time, when I got the medal and certificate one week after the run, I was early enough to pick it up immediately. Since then, I have been flaunting the medal everywhere. If you want to see it post a comment, I shall mail a pic.
(yes, that is the link you got to click to leave that comment…)
Ps: My chest number was not 00007 for nothing.

Nandi Betta and Nidhi Bete - Part I

Date: 9th Sep, 2006
To: Nandi Hills
Route: Hebbal > Devanahalli > Nandi Hills
Distance: 100kms
Mode: The ‘other’ Bike – Hero Hawk





As a part of the cross training in the run up to the marathon, I decided to ride up to Nandi Hills on my other bike – a Hero Hawk. Ever since my friend Sathish mentioned this to me, it had caught on my fancy.
I sold this idea to Raghu and he was willing to join me, till on Friday he decided that the 100+ km ride would be too much for his stamina. I decided to go ahead and do it alone.

I was on my cycle at 630 on 9th Saturday morning. Nandi hills is about 50kms from Hebbal, 2kms after you pass Devanahalli (27kms), take a left at the Nandi cross and ride another 22kms to the top of Nandi hills. The climb to the top of hill is 8kms.
I met up Shashi and Varun a lil after Hebbal, who were on their way to Doddaballapur. They took cycled for 10hrs that Saturday, varun told me later. I have company next time I plan such crazy stunts.
I reached the bottom of the hills about 40 odd kms by 845, but the ride to the top the next 8kms took me a full hour and half. I rode up the ghats 3kms and then gave up, walked along the cycle for the next agonizing 5kms. It was comforting all the while to think you don’t have to do this when on the return.
I spent about 15mins enjoying the landscape view mostly. There is nothing much to do in Nandi if you don’t have a partner. And as evidence, there were many ‘early birds’ already up there.
The ride downhill only exercises your forearms, when you have to squeeze the brakes all the way down. Before I reached Devanahalli, my thighs had started to lock, this is the first time I have exp this. The quadriceps of the thigh lock and begin to hurt. Everytime this happens I had to jump off the cycle and walk a bit before it recovers like it was never there in the first place. Reached home at 215, a grueling 3.5 hours later. It sure was not pleasant, a good preparation for the marathon, however.

Nandi Betta and Nidhi Bete - Part II

Ok…after a lot of prodding from my good friend Manoj, I’ am finally writing my first ever-blog entry…as a guest-writer on Manoj’s visorview (road conquests??) blogsite!

The event: Nidhi Bete 2
Date: 10th Sep 06
Organizers: RTMC
Participants: 22 teams (solo or with pillion)

As a precursor to the events to follow, the first task was difficult enough….meet at 7.30 am at Sarovar, Lavalle Road. Now, for heaven’s sake, this was supposed to be a Sunday, ain’t it meant for catching up on lost sleep???!! Anyways, I was determined not to ditch my dear friend Manoj (ask him for my track record on this one!!)...so woke up by 6.45 am, quick shower and after a lot of searching & directions on the phone, finally reached Sarovar at 7.45am. I thought I was late, since the flag-off was scheduled for 8 am, but I should have known better!!

After a quick round of introductions to the other participants, my ‘pilot’ (read: Manoj= Kuruda) and I broke our fast on a helping of 2 idlis and a vada each.
I changed over to the t-shirt (covered in the 300 bucks as entry fee), a couple of quick smokes, and bingo…we were ready to zoom….it was 8.40am…

Oh, btw Aetos (the eagle!!)..gave a brief on what we were to expect and he did mention that he wanted to see our butts when we got back after the ‘grueling’ ride….should have paid heed to that a little more seriously, but what the heck…aren’t we the daring sorts, come what may kinds… so bring it on!!!

After a series of bikes were flagged off…our time came and my pilot and I were on our way! The first clue was easy, because it was a part of Bangalore I know well ( Jayanagar ) ….but there was a hitch…Though we were bang on the right track, we happened to ask a person for re-confirmation. In his eagerness to be helpful (??), he confidently veered us back to a place we had already passed by….there goes 5-7 minutes!! Anyways, we recovered, rather realized our folly quickly enough and I was very soon dashing into the Royal Enfield showroom where we were supposed to pick up the visiting card of the store-manager…The guy actually stood up from his seat, handed over the card without even asking a word, realizing that I meant business and didn’t have time for small-talk.. And yes, I did take down the reg. number of the bullet from the poster there (I realized it should have be the reg. no. of the bullet with the side-car only later!)

Now, we were well and truly on our way…the next clue was to take the Hosur Road and get to the road to the place which means ‘Elephant Stone’ in Kannada…Bingo, my Kannada is good enough to decipher that as ‘ANEKAL’…but found that in the next clue the same was mentioned (was that a mistake on the organizers’ part??) Anyways, once on that road we were supposed to take the deviation to the place, the clue for which was an anagram – ‘INJAGI’. That’s an easy one…of course it has to be JIGANI (thanks to one of my many initial jobs, I had been to that place and knew it existed!)… Got the deviation easily enough (when in doubt-ASK…and that’s precisely what we did..ask an auto-rickshaw guy to reconfirm),noted down the name of the hotel there, picked up a red-looking stone and proceeded to our next set of clues, which included getting the name of a school (Royal School- at some injalwadi pass on the way), a charitable trust (forgot the name) & an organic products plant ( Kumar Organic Products, whose byline is ‘a positive chemical reaction’….good, na??!!) ….all pretty much sequentially on the way.

Next up was to find a school which resembled Hogwarts (Harry-da-puttar, anyone??!) on the Bannerghatta Road, just some 10 kms from the Zoo (All cats here, what r u doing here, u dog??).The school turned out to be ‘Savodaya Birla International School’ and thankfully we were not too far when we stopped by to ask, only to realize we had passed it! Anyways, these things do happen, don’t they?? Of course, the symbol on the board of the school resembled a Sun (that was a question in the clue-sheet) and I got down from the bike momentarily to look for a ‘white cock feather’ in the grass around...but could not spot one. Not wanting to waste too much time, my pilot said ‘yeno ondu white irodu yettko maga’..meaning ‘pick-up something that is white man’…I did as ‘boss’ said (anything that would save me some trouble!!)…hopped on as pillion and off we were again. Manoj happened to know exactly the destinations of the next few clues since he had done this route before, so I was like..’Ok, cool…we’r almost there’…only to realize that the tough part (read: bad roads) had just begun!!

Of course, the only respite was the NICE road…on which my pilot was in fullu josh..ripping at 120kms/hr (he thinks we did a max of 115kms/hr, but I was watching the Speedo all the while).The good part over, took the deviation to the “Big Banyan Tree “ ( ‘brother to the underwear’ , or so the clue said!!). I took a much needed pee-break while Manoj a.k.a Kuruda took down the landline number of the studio there and picked up a dry leaf….I thought I could have a smoke in peace, being stationary(after all, we had made it until here in good time, hadn’t we??), but I was wrong L The ‘boss’ was like let’s go, let’s go…so off we were again ( BTW, did I mention I also bought 2 beedis at the shop there, much to the bewilderment of the shopkeeper??!!)

Next up was Manchinbele post-office (we had to count how many pillars it stood on, and the answer was 4, but alas, we forgot to mention that on the clue-sheet!!), we noticed it, thanks to ‘Bamboo’ and pillion standing right in front of it….it was also a sort-of re-affirmation that we were indeed on the right track! We were running out of gas, but thankfully found a shop which sold petrol, filled 2 litres which cost us Rs. 130 ( who said fuel was expensive only in Bangalore??!!) and off we went to our next destination…the Deer Park at Savandurga. Got my ass off the bike (was that a relief or what, albeit for only 2-3 minutes!!), to enquire with the shopkeeper there about the number of Deers in the park. Once we had the answer (none), and after having noted the ‘who’ in the statue, we were gleefully on our road back to Bangalore…

Before I proceed to the last stretch, lemme take a minute to mention here that the stretch mentioned in the last para (Big Banyan Tree – Manchinbele – Savandurga) was probably the ‘super specialty stretch’ that Aetos mentioned in his intro before we left Sarovar…and boy, was it special??!! You could hardly call them roads, let alone good or bad….we were constantly in and out of ditches, going left and right to avoid some, and then in cases where it was inevitable to avoid one, my pilot and I used to just let out a shout in the anticipation of the pain it would cause our backside!! Whew, Manoj/Kuruda must’ve cursed the organizers for this, and what’s more, they even had the cheekiness to collect Rs. 300 as entry fees!!

Anyways, glad with the anticipation of the last stretch and lunch, we zipped back to Magadi, took a right turn…and hurray, we were on our way back to namma Bengalooru!! But, well, all good feelings must end, ‘coz just then we noticed a milestone saying “Bangalore – 48 kms” …48kms….crazy or what??? Haven’t we already endured enough??? And by this time, my ass as burning….and my pilot didn’t help (!!) by not being co-operative enough to stop for 5-10 minutes and recuperate…It came down to me almost begging him to stop for 10 seconds, which he did, only once!! He just kept saying “ let’s finish it off “…..well, I knew he was right, but when ur ass is literally on fire, does reasoning ever help??!!! But still, I braved myself to endure the pain (btw, I think I heard Manoj say something like iron-ass….hmm…!), no matter what and ended up trying to find various postures (given the limitations) that would help my backside, even just a little bit!

Finally, after a little bit of guidance from one of the shopkeepers (god bless them), we reached our starting point, Sarovar, at around 1.35pm ….hurray..we made it, and boy, were we glad!!

We submitted our clue-sheet to the organizers only to then realize that we had missed 2 clues on our way back….picking up ‘kadlekai’ on the Magadi rd – Bangalore route and finding out who maintains the clock tower at KR Circle, but who cares, I was just glad that I could stand still after 5 hours of almost constantly riding pillion (roads, did I hear anybody say??)…and Manoj cover-up line was “we don’t believe in bribing!!”….Still, we were docked (I think) 20points….Well, whatever….

Finale:

Cut to scene of having lunch and then results….

Aetos announcing ….” The third place goes to team O…Manoj “ What the $&^&??….Anyways, Clap clap clap!!!

Checkered Flag at Sriperumbadur

This is the defining moment, one that leaves an indelible mark on the memory.
The hands of the tower clock push max angle between them; 12:30 on a hot Sunday afternoon on the Madras Motors Sports Club Race Track at Irungattukottai, Chennai.
I see nearly 10 other bullets through my visor, ahead of me on the grid. There are spectators on the sidelines wanting to catch the start; the lenses zoomed in, larger crowds gather on the two towers overhead.
A Marshal runs up with a “Three Minutes” Placard. A bead of sweat slides down from within the helmet, the breathing gets deeper, and all senses coalesce on the five red lights up ahead. There is a deafening thundering roar as the bikers rev up their variously modified bullets. “Two Minutes”, “30seconds” and “5 seconds” cards come and go, in quick succession; the 20 odd bikers looking ahead in enervating anticipation. I pull the clutch lever and shift into first gear, rev hard and keep it there. Five red lights go on, one after another from right to left… one, two, three, four, five opening the floodgates of adrenaline in sync. And then they go off, all at once… my race has just started.

Rewind quickly three days to find out how I landed here. The fourth leg of the Ucal Rolon National Road Racing Championship was adding (after nearly 10yrs) the Bullets and (other?) superbikes class to its 110 and 160cc categories. The invitation was extended to RTMC, and after re-affirming with Mamadi and Prashy, I decided to check out the track myself. In the hindsight, if I had even a semblance of what was in store for me, I swear, I would have chickened out.

There were a few easy-to-overcome roadblocks. Get the bullet in shape – replace the chain and sprocket and removed the main stand. The plan to go to Chennai was made over hot Mysore filter coffee at Java City at the club’s meeting. The forms were filled and everything was in place. I had to put lotsa gas to convince folks at home, this time I have stretched limits, I reckon. I applied leave on Friday (yes, contrary to most cases, my weekends are spilling over my work days and I, for one, am not complaining).

Mama, Anil and I left to Chennai on Friday (1st Sep) at 7 in the morning. Riding steady 80kmph on the bare Krishnagiri-Vellore route, we reached Sriperumbadur by 1:30pm, some 340 odd kms. The vroom vroom sounds of the 110 and 160cc bikes as we entered the MMSC race track, brought the first signs of doubts if I wanted to be among these mad men. We were welcomed with bad news at the pits from the Rolling Thunder Assault Team, Prashy and Abhi, out two leading racers had a crash, Prashy’s piston had two holes, exhaust valve broken and wrecked the head & tappet rods and Abhi had crashed trying not to run over Prashy on the track. All this on the very first day, two more such days to go!

The Madras Motors Race track at Irungattukottai was the first of its kind in India was inaugurated in 1990. The grand prix run a full 50 laps here. I was sapped out for a mere 5 laps, the 110cc and the 160cc classes ran 8 laps.
In the next 24 hours, I rode to Chennai, met up my relatives, caught up with two batch mates from IIML, Kamal and Krishna at Tidal Park.
I had to do a lot of “------- (replace by name of place) yenge?” to find my way around. “straight pongo sir, last le, right turn panna, ange iruku”. Meaning “go straight, and take a right turn in the last (end)”. You would not go any further on a straight road if you knew you had to take a turn, right. The road will continue, and hey, I don’t know where to go (if you get any of that, you are either a Tamilian or a genius).

Anyways, I got back to the race track by 3:15 on Saturday afternoon, with the practice for the bullets starting at 4:30. I thought I had enough time to take off my crash guards, mirror, tape the indicators, etc. Wrong! The bullets were already on track and there was 15 mins left to get any practice.
I was ushered into the track on my fully loaded TB, just managed to take off my tank bag. As I entered the hot lane, instruction given to me was simple, “Ensure you don’t fall, you have too much glass”.
For the practice, the bullets shared the short loop with the super bikes – Ninjas and CBRs. I was glad I had the mirrors on, to make way when the super bikes sped past. There was one rider who was flashing headlights and all, I caught him on my rear view mirror. After burning some fuel and rubber (off my foot peg only) on the wet track, I got back to the pits, 6 short laps later. The veteran racer, Subhash Chandra Bose, gave us some valuable tips on lines to take, there is so much more to learn.

After the practice, most of us headed back to Chennai. After checking out the MadBulls Shridhar's office (half of RTMC used the office to crash for the night), I headed to Porur, my cousin’s place.

On Sunday morning, I reached the race track at 8, hoping to get some more practice early in the morning. The rest of RTMC was late, sleeping over the hangover from Bikes n Barrels the previous night. Unlike the previous night, there was scrutiny of the bikes and riding gear. I was under clothed for the race, no full gloves, no knee pads. Prashy had pulled out of the race, despite an overnight engine rebuild and I got to use the champ’s riding suit.
The races for the moped class, 110cc and 160cc class went on till noon. By now my ears for-ever reverberating to the sound the mopeds and bikes revving on track or testing in the pits. The 50cc mopeds race at 100-90kmph, throttles locked at max.
At noon, the announcements for the bullets sounded. I said a silent prayer, the idea of backing out did cross my mind once, do I really want to go out there! Hell, I was not going to chicken out now.
We wheeled the bullets to the cold lane and waited as instructions were barked out. When the bullets came out into the track, one after the other, it was almost like the gladiators come out into the Roman arena. I started among the last four on the starting grid, feeling like Narayan Kartikeyan. By the time the first curve (MRF curve) was taken, there were 3 bullets behind me and one close ahead. The qualifying was my best race, for a large part I was catching up with the heavily modified (it had a double silencer) No. 1 bullet ahead. I got him on three occasions on tight inner line, but was unable to keep the lead. I had to keep my nerves tight, especially when the lead was taken from me.
For most part of the race, my strategy was to move from the outer to the inner line. I really loved most corners:

MRF Corner – Took this one mostly at 90-100kmph. The straight provides the chance to clip and take the curve at nearly fully throttle.
GoodYear Corner – The straight before this is a long one, I would consistently hit over 100kmph before braking and gearing down before the Goodyear corner.
The Never ending – This is one I loved most. Keep the throttle open, tilt the bullet till the rubber on the foot peg scrapes the camber, take the inner line and keep going and going and going, never ending really. I hear the super bikes take this at 220kmph!!
The Bridge Corners – I hated these, the S-shaped corners were where I scraped my pegs and god-knows-whatever else most. Couldn’t do any speed on this either.

There is so much to learn to be able to take these corners with élan, to make the curves work for you. But when you clip on those curves, the bullet tilting to hug the curves, and every part - the eyes, hands, thighs, knees, ankles working in sync, you forget the world.

I finished 15th out of 19 bikers on qualifying almost feeling like Narain Karthikeyan. It was a good race for Abhi from RTMC, who finished first on the 350cc category and second overall.
The next race was at 5:15 or so. In the meantime, the super bikes who took to track, to the delight of the crowds, also had a major crash, also to further the delight of the crowd. Ordinary packed vegetarian food tasted great, maybe also because it was covered in the 100 bucks you pay for the registration.
The race in the evening was a replica of the qualifying – only this time around, I didn’t have the No. 1 guy running in front and had the track for myself after the first lap. I tried to catch up with Sultan on his 500cc, but fell short of power.

At the end of the race, all the bulleteers were given mementos – a trophy to take home and show-off. I had to fit back my side stands, guard and lights in a hurry to make the bullet highway-fit.
We left the track at 6:30 in the evening. Boom was at the point, ripping at 100+, sultan and I formed the sweep. After Krishnagiri, we had to slow down, to stay with Manan, who had a loose chain. But the whole road is simply awesome and a great one to do at night. Got back home by 1am – 935kms of bliss!!

As I type this entry, I am being driven on bumper-to-bumper traffic on Airport Road and I am translocated, so much that I almost smell rubber.

Some race track terms that I googled:
parade lap
When the bikes in a race travel around the track before the start of a race. Done to warm up the bikes, particularly the tires.
camber
The roll, angle, or canter of the road surface left and right from the direction of travel. Often corners are angled or banked in favour of the driver; when angle is unfavourable the road is described as off-camber.
cold lane
Lane in pit where bikes wait to enter track. See "hot lane."
hot lane
Lane in pit used by bikes exiting or re-entering track. See "cold lane."
green flag
Track ahead is clear for driving at speed.
yellow flag
Standing or held steady, it indicates there is a minor hazard on track ahead or perhaps a bike off-track. Use caution. When the flag is waved, it means there is a major hazard ahead; so use extreme caution.
marshal
A person working at a station along the track, usually a corner. They monitor and report the condition of bikes and the behaviour of drivers. They will display flags to provide information or warn a driver. They maintain contact with the chief marshal or "track steward."
decreasing radius
A corner that tightens. It requires increased steering input after the apex. Very challenging. Opposite from an increasing radius.
deep into a corner
Braking later into a corner, usually to overtake a bike. Often needed when taking an inside line. Also referred to as "going deeper."
inside line
If attempting to pass in a corner, race drivers will often attempt an inside line or "groove." They move to the inside surface of the track before a corner, then they attempt to outbrake their opponent by braking later but harder. If done successfully they will shoot by the bike driven the racing line and be ahead at the apex. This often causes the aggressive driver to early apex giving the defending driver a better line at the exit. See "outbrake," "the line."
in slow, out fast
A reminder that your overall or exit speed in a corner will be faster if you're slower at the entrance. A driver that exploits this is described as being "quick in the corners."
line, the
An imaginary line around a track that permits the highest speed. Through corners this is the greater arc from the outside edge from the end of a straightaway (turn-in point) through the inside edge of a corner (apex) to the outer edge at the end of the corner (exit point). This is often visible on a race track as a darker region from tire residue. This is not necessarily the shortest distance around a track. Sometimes referred to as the race line or dry line. See "wet line," "off-line," "inside line."