Travelogue: A solo bike ride to Chikmagalur on a Dominar

A solo bike trip always has a cathartic effect on me. For a few days it was all about me, my bike, the roads and how to navigate past the challenges.

BHPian Ganapathy recently shared this with other enthusiasts.

When life throws you a curve ball

A solo bike ride to Chikmagalur on a Dominar

What do you do when life throws you a curve ball? Well, the last 24 months have been challenging, to put it mildly. The loss of a dear one after a protracted illness took its toll, as did the aftermath of dealing with the tragedy. The ever-impending retirement and its associated insecurities compounded the mound of issues to deal with. The dark clouds of depression were looming above me and I reacted in the only way I knew. I decided to resort to my one solution fits all problems. Hit the road. It has been more than 2 years since I had let my Dominar stretch its legs. My brother-in-law had been recommending Chikmagalur for a long time. My usual partner in crime for such escapades was dealing with some health issues of his own and his participation in this crazy adventure was vetoed out.

The environment in your immediate vicinity and your state of mind seem to be interconnected in some way and work mysteriously, but work it does. Whenever I am considering such a trip on my Dominar, it is usually met with emotions ranging from wild disbelief to you need to get your head checked, from near and dear. Normally this would not affect me at all, but, this time it did. Small strands of scepticism crept in. Would I, more importantly, would my six decades plus a few years, old body, subject to more than normal wear and tear, be able to take the strain of a 1200 kms plus a solo round trip on a motorcycle? My immediate family, my wife and daughter who are normally very supportive seemed a bit hesitant. There is a very fine line between being brave and being reckless and stupid. Was I just tipping over that bar? Introspect I did and decided that all the aches and pains notwithstanding, I would venture out on my own.
My preparations for the trip started with the servicing of my bike and the service technician at the ASC did mention that my chain sprocket set was due for replacement very soon and he advised me that it could be changed after my return. One of my aux lights was giving me trouble and I had it attended to by a local auto electrician. Both these acts would come back to haunt me later during my trip. My riding gear, boots, and all other associated items were unpacked and dusted off.
An old phone to use as a navigation device was located. However, all attempts to download offline maps proved futile. There was some software issue and it was a frustrating experience and it was too late to sort out. I had decided to start out early on Wednesday the 4th for Chikmagalur. Initially, the plan was to halt at Bangalore at my cousin’s place en route, However, on second thoughts, I figured out, that it might be prudent to break the journey on the way back. The previous night, I suddenly realised that there was a lot of wet weather around and I needed to get a raincoat. As I was on my way to buy the rainwear, it poured cats and dogs and I was totally drenched. It was still raining heavily, way into the night and I decided that I would take a final call on my trip depending on how the weather was, early in the morning.
As is the norm, I could hardly sleep that night and I tossed and turned till I decided that enough was enough, I got up at about quarter past three switched off the alarm, and started getting ready. I had fixed the tail bag onto the bike, the previous night itself to save some time. It was still tough work to get the tank bag down and fix it on the motorcycle. My dodgy knees and back didn’t help. Nevertheless, by half post four, I was all set. There is this strange jinx I face on all my motorcycle journeys and that continues. My Navigation device always acts up when I start off from home and I usually resolve the issue later on in my drive. Such was the case again. I wasted a few minutes trying to sort it out, but all in vain. However, I did not need navigation assistance until I reached Bangalore. Hence, after my wife did the honors, by taking a photograph, with the clock on the meter reading 4.45 am, I fired up the Dominar and set out on yet another solo trip.

There is something enthralling about an early morning start and the magic is accentuated if you are on a motorcycle. Luckily the rain gods had relented. There was still a very mild drizzle. The wet asphalt glistened in the dark, sporadically lit roads throwing shadows of irregular patterns beckoned as I hit the arterial road leading onto the Bangalore Highway. It was just a few minutes to five am, I needed to cross Sriperumbudur before the mad rush of college and company buses, caused their customary traffic snarl. To the uninitiated, this route is swamped with Engineering Colleges and leads to one of the most prominent industrial suburbs in the country which gives credence to Chennai’s claim as the Detroit of India. Chennai, as a city, is an early riser, and even at around 5 .00 am, I did meet the usual early morning traffic, some of them workers rushing to catch the 6.00 am shift, the occasional utility vehicle, but as I crossed the Poonamalee bypass, it was more sedate. Soon after at 5.30, I passed my first toll gate at Sriperumbudur and the traffic really thinned out. It was a serene feeling, the deep-throated growl of the Dominar, the shaft of white light piercing through the darkness ahead, the wet roads glistening, as the light bounced off the droplets of water on the surface and the eerie silence. The whole scenario had a profound liberating effect on me. The first streaks of dawn were slowly up on the distant horizon and the darkness gave way so that you could make out the bare outlines of the object ahead. The never-ending roadwork meant that there were a lot of diversions and this did ensure that I had to be alert. It was just past 6 am when I crossed Kancheepuram. NH 4/ NH 48 was a breeze to ride on and though traffic had picked up a bit, I was still making good time Just after 2 hours of riding, I felt it was time for a tea break and I stopped at a tea shop somewhere near Vellore.

I took a 15-minute break and a steaming cup of Coffee and a couple of biscuits meant, that I was raring to go. I planned to ride as far as I could, before halting for breakfast. The roads were great and visibility was now good. The sky was overcast and that meant the weather was not very hot. That was a big relief. I really regretted the absence of a cruise control device on my bike, as I maintained a steady speed in the 80 – 90 kmph band. With the exception of a surge in traffic when I crossed Ambur and Vaniyambadi, it was quiet peaceful riding all the way through. I made a brief stop to adjust my Tank bag and stretch my legs, until well over half past nine, when the pangs of hunger were gnawing away, I stopped at one of those numerous Saravana Bhavan clones just on the outskirts of Krishnagiri.

There is nothing in this world that a steaming cup of filter coffee can’t revive you from, and if it is coupled with a hot dosa then even the dead stand a chance. I lazed a bit after a refreshing breakfast, stretched a bit, and off I was again. Traffic on this stretch did slow me down and as soon as I crossed into Bengaluru, I halted at the first tea stall. Had to attend to a few office calls. A real dressing down from a disgruntled customer brought me crashing down to earth. With a shrug, I clipped my phone onto the handle bar and followed Google Maps on to Chikmagalur. I was wide awake and attentive, as I navigated through the infamous Bengaluru traffic maze and ensured that I took the detour to Nice road. Stopping at the toll booth and getting the change out, to pay was quite a challenge, with the riding gear and gloves. The road was great and traffic was light as I negotiated the 40-odd kms after which I was supposed to hit NH 75.
At about 2.00 pm, I stopped for lunch at a small nondescript hotel. A couple of rotis later I was back on the Dominar and a long afternoon of biking lay ahead of me. NH 375 was an amazing highway. What surprised me was the presence of rumblers (at least, that’s what I call these very mild speed bumps painted yellow and bunched together) at regular intervals. I did avoid them by shifting to the extreme left lane, meant for two wheelers, where they were absent. However, I was totally shocked when I hit a few massive speed breakers, the presence of which, on a highway, baffled me. In the night, I am sure they must be dangerous. I did ride on and on, past Channarayapatna and further. The sheer monotony was making me drowsy. I kept on looking for a restaurant, but it was close to Hassan, where I made a halt at a sprawling rest area and restaurant for a much-needed break.

I had been riding for close to 12 hours now and fatigue was setting in. The heavy riding gear was not helping and I took an extended break. I met a fellow biker who was on his way back and he warned me of wet weather ahead. Much against what I knew was the prudent choice, I decided to forge ahead. I needed to traverse about 100 kms more, and by the time I took the detour to NH 73, I was really tired. I thought Google Maps was playing tricks on me when it asked me to turn into a virtually non-existent road. I ignored it thinking it was just a glitch, but Google persisted and I halted to get human confirmation. It tuned out that Google was correct and I turned onto a narrow gravel road still not convinced of the veracity of the map. I was stunned when I had to halt at a railway gate. This was quite a scene, Four Wheelers, Autos, Bikes, Scooters, and every modern transportation contraption was jostling for space with a shepherd tending to his herd of goats and believe me a lady who had most of her perfectly disciplined ducks waiting in a single file for the train to cross and the gate to open. I wish I could have taken a photograph but I was just too tired. It did however draw a smile out of me, all the fatigue notwithstanding.
Daylight was fading fast, and I revved the bike in an attempt to cover the maximum distance before I had to switch on the headlights. The roads became narrow and curved inwards and outwards every few minutes. Another day, another time I would have reveled in driving on such roads, but not today. I just egged myself to stay alert and rode on. Day light faded completely and the oncoming lights were blinding. I had to virtually slow down to a crawl when I crossed some oncoming huge monster rushing down in front of me, and the presence of unexpected speed breakers added to the confusion. I cursed my decision to ride almost 600kms in a single day, but as always hindsight is a wonderful thing. Moreover, I have realised during the course of my six decades and a few years of existence on planet Earth, that hindsight, like most wonderful things arrives a bit too late in the day to be off any real use. I just let my adrenaline kick in and rode on till I entered Chikmagalur. I entered the town totally dead on my feet and could hardly search for a hotel, The first hotel seemed a bit too shady, even for an almost dead non fastidious person. I checked with a bystander and he pointed to a nearby hotel. By now, I was cramping badly, and it was a Himalayan task to get off the bike with the heavy gear on, push and park the bike, and climb up the stairs to the foyer of the hotel. I just checked out the rooms and they passed muster. I paid cash for just one day, reserving my right to switch over to a better hotel the next day, in case this turned out to be too bad. I unpacked (to be brutally honest, it was more of actually undressing and throwing all the clothes onto a shelf on the cupboard) and had a hot shower. That revived me, even if it was just a tiny bit. I managed to trudge along to a hotel just across the road and had a simple but delicious meal of hot dosa and a filter coffee. I managed to just about make it back to my hotel room and virtually crawled on all my fours into bed. I was aching all over, my old joints creaking with every move I made. The last thing I remember before I dozed off, was to curse the person who propounded the concept that age is just a number. I bet it was some young fit guy, who in a delusional moment after smoking some infamous herb, (which rhymes with deed) wrote it.
Miracles do happen and I woke up the next day in a not-too-bad condition. As expected, a hot shower, a steaming cup of coffee, and a sumptuous breakfast actually propelled me into the world of the living. After receiving directions from a helpful receptionist at the hotel, I drove down or rather up to Mullayyanagiri Peak
To the uninitiated, Mullayyanagiri, with a height of 1,925 metres, is the highest peak in Karnataka and is located in the Chandra Dhrona Hill Ranges of the Western Ghats of Chikkamagaluru Taluk. The weather was great, a cloudy day with the clouds hanging low. As I drove up after buying a token for a princely sum of Rs 10, the scenery had a liberating effect on me. Most of the aches and pains of yesterday were forgotten, at least momentarily. There was a nip in the air, as I climbed up the hill. Visibility was affected due to dense fog and low-hanging clouds. The views were breathtaking. The peaks of the mountains draped in clouds, cold breeze whistling through the small crevices in my helmet. Lush green everywhere and the breeze getting colder and colder as I climbed.

Actually, earlier that day, before I had set out, I had strapped my Hero Action camera (a gift from my niece abroad) to my helmet mount and was convinced that my first foray into action videography would go down in the annals of videography history as worthy of an Oscar equivalent of the videography universe. I halted briefly, unstrapped my helmet, and played back the video. Most of what was seen was my Dominar handlebar, speedometer display, and headlight. The camera needed to be tilted upward and I fiddled around with the mount on the helmet and the adaptor I had. However, it was futile. The only other alternative was to tilt my head upward and gaze at the clouds in the sky in order to ensure that the action camera got a proper viewing angle of the road ahead, but even for a not-too-young, tired, mentally challenged bloke like me, that did not seem too bright an idea, not just for my safety, but for those around as well. I just got frustrated and removed the camera, switched it off, put it in my bag, and decided to enjoy the view firsthand. Thus ended my rather brief foray into the universe of motorcycle action videography. It needs to be revived, another day, another time, with better equipment, and more importantly, better knowledge of the equipment required and how to handle it.

Well, back to the climb. With all the paraphernalia duly packed and out of harm’s way, I could now concentrate on the task at hand, The view was indeed spectacular.

I stopped at a viewpoint where I saw a few young kids with their bikes and a brand-new Pulsar 200NS taking some photographs, I offered to take one of the entire group. Got chatting to them and asked the guy with the new bike as to why he did not wait to buy the Pulsar 400. The guy was taken aback at this question and it did break the ice, He poured his heart out to me as to how he wasn’t aware that the 400N would be launched so early and of the financial challenges as well. It was great to see the passion the youngsters had today and how they were unfazed by the challenges they faced in realizing their dream. They were joined by a few more. It was a noisy bunch of youngsters virtually screaming their lungs off as they all sang some sort of anthem at full volume totally unconcerned about the people around them, it really brought a smile to my face – OHH…. the magic of youth!!!

I climbed further, as the road twisted and turned as it climbed steeply. I darted to the left and gave way hastily, as a couple of Jeeps with a boisterous crowd roared past me. I reached the top where a small temple could be seen, the drizzle had strengthened. I offered to take the photo of a young couple with the breathtaking view of the peaks in the background, they were very happy with the photograph and when they offered to return the favour, the fog had rolled in all of a sudden and everything was just a white blanket in the background.

The fog, or was it low-hanging clouds, severely affected visibility, and despite the breathtaking views, I was wet and miserable in the cold. I did spend some time, had a great look around, took a few photographs, and decided to descend down, as the rain strengthened. I then took a detour to catch up on a waterfall. I have to admit, that this particular waterfall was quite disappointing. Quite crowded as well. I did not hang around too much. The saving grace was the few small shops there, dishing out steaming hot chai. That did refresh my spirits. I then rode downwards.
As I was enjoying the serenity of the hills and the peace and the calm, on a really silent stretch I realized that there was a slightly abnormal sound emanating from the Dominar. It took me a while to realize that the chain and sprocket was the culprit. This now dampened my spirits and as soon as I descended down, I went in search of the nearest mechanic. Just a few kms down the road I came across a mechanic who attended to my concern by adjusting the chain and lubricating it. I asked him of his opinion and he did not seem too concerned about the state of wear of the chain and the sprocket. However, as I rode into the city for my lunch break, the sound seems to have increased. I googled the location of the nearest Bajaj authorized service point and reached there. I was pleasantly surprised by the reception and prompt attention that I received. The workshop manager personally allocated a senior mechanic, who did a test ride on my bike, put my bike on a paddock stand, re-adjusted my chain, and had it lubricated again. The Manager assured me that I was good to go back to Chennai and that I could have the chain sprocket set changed in Chennai. He reassured me that there was no cause for concern and wished me a safe trip.
I visited a nearby lake in the evening but a strong drizzle dampened my spirits. I came back to the hotel and decided to leave for Bengaluru the next day morning. I had the bike washed with the help of the hotel staff and hit the bed early, to ensure an early start the next morning. I got up at 5 am the next morning, once again requested the help of the hotel staff to assist me in getting my tank bag and tail bag strapped on, and by 6.00 am I was on my way.

The weather was great for riding and I made good time. I enjoyed my ride and watched the sun break through the clouds. Soon after 8.00 am I stopped for breakfast, and after a brief halt recommenced my ride. I was still concerned about the state of my chain sprocket set and reading about its importance on the net, the previous evening, only heightened my concern. I decided that I would not exceed the 70 – 75 kmph limit and would listen carefully to detect any worsening of the chain sprocket noise. The ride to Bengaluru was uneventful, though, I did have an issue with entering Bengaluru. I reached my cousin’s place in Bengaluru, but the apprehension about my chain sprocket refused to die. With my brother in law’s help, I managed to locate the nearest Bajaj Authorized Service point and the Manager there conceded to have the chain sprocket set changed immediately. Luckily for me, they had the spares required and despite the fact that it was a Saturday afternoon, they undertook the job and completed it.
With this monkey off my back, I spent a lovely evening with my cousins in Bengaluru catching up and retired with the plan that I would set off for Chennai early the next day. The next morning, my cousins and brothers-in-law bid me farewell, as I fired up the Dominar at about 6.00 am and began the last leg of my journey.

I wanted to exit Bengaluru without experiencing the infamous city traffic and I did just that, as I took the fly over and crossed over to Hosur. Just when I was settling down for a peaceful ride, I suddenly noticed that my horn was not working. Also, my indicators had died as well. I knew that it must be a blown fuse, but it was too early to look for a mechanic. I decided to wait until 10.00am, before I sought the assistance of a mechanic. I did waste some time looking for a mechanic enroute at both Krishnagiri and Ambur, but all in vain. I then decided that I would manage and reach Chennai. I was convinced that the mechanic who had attended to my Aux lights had left some wire bare without taping it. (Eventually it turned out to be a burnt fuse exactly for this reason) As I approached Chennai, the heat was stifling. I made an impromptu stop for a refreshing cool drink. I set off once again, determined to reach home as soon as possible. I stopped for lunch at a decent hotel near Kancheepuram.

The lure of a cold shower at home egged me on and I did heave a sigh of relief, as I rode safely back into my parking lot close to 3.00pm.
A bid shout out to the Dominar. The twin issues which I faced, could be directly attributed to my laziness in replacing stock spares on time, as per the preventive maintenance schedule and some shoddy wiring work by the auto electrician. Otherwise, the Dominar performed flawlessly, once again reinforcing my conviction, of its competency as a highway rider, capable of munching, miles, nonchalantly, without ever running out of breath.

A favourite quote of mine.

Was the journey tiring? Yes, it definitely was! Was it required? Well, the jury is still out on that one. However, all that I can say is a solo bike trip always has a cathartic effect on me. For a few days it was all about me, my bike, the roads and how to navigate past the challenges. I definitely returned back with my mind in a clearer space than when I set out. Yes, a few decisions were rather dodgy. Did I have to push myself, so much physically at this age? In my defense, all I can say, is that I am comforted by the thought, that I still have it in me to hit the road, me, my bike and the universe, and the reassurance that once again, my one size fits all, solution worked. So, when life throws you a curve ball, get on your bike and hit the road, sometimes this is all you need.

Let me conclude with a few thoughts of mine in a poem form. Adieu my fellow bikers.

When life throws you a curve ball

When life throws you a curve ball
As it sometimes surely will
When the dark clouds of gloom befall
Loom large and close in on your window sill

You may as many will do
Take the most common route
Consult the doctor and do as he who
Conforms to norms and avoids solutions moot

But maybe life is not testing your form
Despite the symptoms portentous so,
Perhaps it’s a test of your mind forlorn
Despair and darkness, a potent flow

And the pill is not what you must seek
The solution lies not with the medic
Maybe all you need is some time on your own,
To ponder over life’s many a twist and turn

Sometimes it may be prudent so,
To just get on your bike and go with the flow
The mountains, the mist, the chill, and the breeze
Will surely make your mind at ease

The wind will blow the clouds of despair,
And a ray of hope may emerge there
The time alone will do more than help for sure
And hurt it may,but will end this search for a cure

Whatever life’s battles be, go rest assured
Time on the highway with your bike all geared
All by your own, may just be what you need
To confront life’s battles and trust hope indeed

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