Dominar 400 - Answering the 'Why'

Bajaj Auto screws up electricals, makes sure its bikes have the worst gearboxes in the category, and has a horrid after-sales setup.

So I went ahead and bought another one.

Why?

Well, had a 10 year experience with a Pulsar-200 and was sure that machines coming out of Bajaj stables are adept to take up Indian roads; or lack of it. I’ve witnessed multiple cases of suspension failure across Hondas (no kidding, I have seen monoshocks snap), and in contrast hold my previous 10 year old Bajaj mile-muncher as a testament to ‘adapting to Indian conditions to survive’. Of course, you will figure out the real reason at the end of this.

So this time, I decided for go for the 400 CC they claimed to be a game changer.

For starters, the Good:

• The Engine: This boasts of a very smooth engine- certainly the best from Bajaj till date. Rev it hard, and it accelerates you pointedly. Close the throttle, it gets down to a subdued hum. Note: Accelerating and decelerating is an experience in itself, and as a very cautious and well thought through exception, I put it ahead of the Honda engines.
•  The light (& the front): Mein Gott!! What a looker this is.. Those fierce, unforgiving eyes- they have all  the world’s anger wrapped within- radiating it with those DRLs. Witnessing this machine approach is like … Is like. Its like. Like…: Rocky Balboa sparring with Eye of the Tiger playing in the background, or .. or Angry Vijay Deenanath Chauhan charging at you… with vengeance.
• High speed cruise-ability: A high speed cruiser indeed. This machine is absolutely at ease at 120 kmph and can stay there for a several hours without any complaint. When I say at ease- I mean the engine does not feel strained, and most importantly, you have confidence in stopping thanks to those huge discs and tires (upgrade from factory rubber recommended).

The Bad:

•        Suspension: Remember when I said that the Bajaj suspension is solid? Well, here’s the thing- they took my feedback too seriously and replaced metal in the struts with concrete (I think). The result is a ride quality that tries its best to throw you off its seat at lower speeds. Turning is not that comfortable and your arms and back may feel overwrought most of the time in the city.
•           Putting it all together/ Mating the engine and gearbox: Getting you all back from that utopian dream of great components: the solid body, etc. How can you screw it up? The answer is- putting it together. The engine is great, but riding at anything less than 50 at constant speeds is often riddled with shudders.
•           Looks: Besides the aggressive front, rear of the bike is more of a let-down.  For me, impressing ladies is not a priority. If it is for you, stay away from the Dominar.. 
•          After sales: Remember how our dear Kurt Cobain went out slamming a fan with his guitar, before getting on playing on at the concert?? I have a feeling Bajaj takes Nirvana very seriously and are trying to get there with the way they treat their customers/ product fans. Still in the first year of its life, my bike has to go begging to Bajaj service stations for hearing me out. I have had a few complaints, with regard to the low RPM shudders and softening the suspension, but Bajaj guys couldn’t care less. When I requested for a check to the ECU, they assured me that they have already washed the bike and that ought to fix the issue. 

Now coming to the point why I bought one. For this, bear with this little story:

One fine morning while you cruise easily on your side- you observe that the other side of the road is not that fortunate – an early morning traffic snarl it seems. You also spot that guy on the other side at distance, sans helmet on a Hero Honda Passion, with an open silencer, and a logo declaring his association to a notorious political party.

The joker has come to cognizance of his imminent fate – a possible delay of 2.50 minutes! ! He decides that a person of his importance cannot put up with this.. He has just vandalized a few properties, and now has to get somewhere quickly for his next assignment - to set few buses ablaze, or demolish some outspoken actress' home, maybe – urgently of course. Righteously, he comes on to the wrong side of the road and starts coming head on - bleating his shrill horn and zig zagging in style at the oncoming traffic head on, creating absolute havoc for other law abiding citizens.

‘Jai Maharshtra’ – the maniac’s saffron sticker proclaimed. Mind you: assembled in Pune, the Dominar checks the ‘son of soil’ theory as well and started changing its behavior.

While I was quietly meandering at 30 Kmph, the Dominar clearly did not like my calm. The Dominar decides to take the matter in its own hands and starts assuming control. Machine over man this time..

Magically, my left foot slips to commence some clicks to drop a few gears.. And then..

Gear 1..  The throttle is opened and the front wheel lifts up by a few degrees, while the rear tyre scavenges for grip on the tarmac- a few slips cite victory of torque over the friction. The clutch still in play, the engine revs with quite a distinct roar in the busy road and catches the attention of the entire street.

Clutch.. Gear 2 .

As the engine is mated to the transmission with some of the clutch in play, the rear tyre screams for grip, and the front tyre experiences a lift-off again. The throaty engine whips out the 35 NM torque and equal number of horses for the road..

Now that the Dominar has transformed into a rocket, we do have our maniac’s attention. You can see him watching you in confusion, slowing down a bit, and see fear building up in his eyes, as you determinedly barrel towards him.. Head on - collision course..  

Clutch

Gear 3: We are building the revs again. While the speedo determinedly builds up towards areas where the third digit would be needed soon, the engine has not yet got to its redline (the rev limiter kick in – in Dominar’s case). Noting that we have three more gears left, we keep accelerating. As a final war trumpet, we activate all the DRLs.

Our nitwit is visibly troubled now. His miniscule brain gets into overdrive, computing the probability of his survival after being rammed by a heavy machine, with a crazy look, angry lights, possessing that kind of momentum gained at that unmentionable speed.

Noting that the Dominar may be out to annihilate him, he sights the nearest opening in the road divider and darts to the stagnated traffic on his (correct) side of the road.

It’s job done, the Dominar switches off its lamps, engages the brakes and glides back into its moderate civilian speeds.

All this – from the downshifts, acceleration to braking back to normalcy: abating aggression with aggression, was concluded in less than 20 seconds.

Now lets address that earlier question: Why are we buying this? 

All that aggression.. Or countering aggression - You could do all this at Rs. 160,000 ex-showroom (non-ABS). For any other machine to have undertaken such a feat, you would need to shell out multipliers (BMW 310, KTM RC 390, Ninja?). The Bajaj propels Uncle Scrooge to that mid level sports bike category at a substantial discount.  Precisely why this fellow with a blue cover- 4 lion embossed passport bought this.

 

PS: Having said that, I plead all serious bikers not to waver from the RC 390, no matter what other bikes claim to do, or the discounts they offer. Regardless of whether you are highway king, stunt master, track racer, chain snatcher or a criminal on the run, the RC 390 triumphs for all your needs. Work harder, stop being a scrooge, beg or steal - and get the KTM..

Insanity: riding the RC 390

Insanity..The Honda CBR whines, the Apache purrs, but the KTM;-The KTM RC 390 growls and roars: angrily, impatiently and mercilessly. The reason why I write so much about the sound is that it is a distinct one and takes a while to get used to. Initially it makes you believe that there are some cannons trying to make themselves heard in midst of rapid fire from Kalashnikovs and M16 carbines. Not a rattle, definitely not a whine, more close to roars from different members of the feline family at the same moment.

The instrument cluster seems rudimentary. Having said that, it would be criminal to not mention that the overall quality is top-notch and gives a rich feel. You mount the bike, and you know you have done so for a menacing ride. Certainly you are not out to buy onions and potatoes for the dwindling reserves at home. The posture is the blend of an off-roader and a street racer.

The engine growls when you open the throttle and as you release the clutch deftly, you are suddenly yanked a couple of yards ahead; as if propelled by a grenade explosion. The acceleration is barbaric. A first experience for the usual Indian bikers: suddenly migrating from a 'mileage kitna deti hai' to the mini-superbike league. You can hear the angry explosions in that engine pushing you to any speeds of your liking in fraction of seconds. The discs coupled with ABS brings you to the momentum of your liking in similar times as well. Certainly something that has been beyond the imagination of people who have experience with bikes ranging from 100-500CC. For the money you pay for this motorcycle, you get more than its worth when it comes to performance.

After riding the KTM, I was silent for a while. So silent that some people mistook me for Manmohan Singh. For after riding the evil orange machine, I was bothered by some menacing drum beaters in vicinity.. Later I realized that the noise was just the thumping of my heart. 

Such is the exhilaration associated with the RC390 experience. However; like a drug, it does wear off in time... I say so because I was quickly brought back to reality by the analytical conclusion of the brain when that thing called practicality comes into picture. A couple of places where certain questions rose:

1. Looks: Good lord! Why does it have to be only orange/black? Plus, devilish looks are fine, but does it actually look as expensive as it actually is? Why did they not make it different from its 200CC sibling? The dual headlamps and simple instrumentation remind me of the early 90s.

2. Ride quality: This is something debatable. Trust me, this is a machine bred for extreme performance. Ride quality was never the prominent things in its DNA. Yet, when I am to go for a long drive, would I still pick the KTM over a Honda? Nyope.. Also, I don't see the point of torturing my wife on that small seat.

3. Power delivery: Reiterating again- the power delivery is brutal. You get those bursts of power. Yet the delivery is not at all smooth. Its like whack! bang! boom! Explosions. Definitely not a Yamaha or a Honda which reminds you a rocket being launched in a scientifically smooth manner.

To conclude, the KTM is the best performance machine that your money can buy. But that said, it is still an expensive toy. One spending that kind of money may think of compromising on the brutal performance and go for the CBR250/300 just to get that 'big bike' experience and the more comfortable, suave and saner way of riding.  

Rohtang pass: conquered on the RE

Here I was with a vehicle that I would avoid buying since it’s brochure does not score high on any of: Max power, 0-100 sprint time, mileage. However, motorcycling is more about spirituality and less about practicality. And this is where the Bullet makes a mark. It took me 6000 metres to figure out why the Royal Enfield commands such respect. To date, I more or less considered it as a machine bought by people who are trying too hard to project themselves as macho males (which is to some extent still  true). Bullet enthusiasts can curse me for my narrow mindedness, but while you are at it: I’d like you to blast those very brainless idiots who keep driving Bullets without a purpose (and hence lead to wrong perceptions about the machine amongst people like me).

It took a while to get used to. Though I’ve test ridden a lot of REs before, this was the first time I was using it for a proper drive. We had chosen a worn out aged Electra (this was one of the very first piece rolling out of the factory) with a custom tank. The weight takes a while to get used to. Of course, starting is a problem in the cold and so was parking, idling and turning at slow speeds. Nothing good till now, it just seemed a bit.. errr.. different.

As altitude rose, the roads deteriorated and the snow cover increased as did the majesticity of the Himalayas. It was a fierce climb and no matter what gear I put the Electra into, the needle just did not budge beyond 50 kmph at full throttle. The street smart bikes from Honda, Bajaj, Yamaha or TVS could’ve managed higher speed beyond doubt.

So since those street machines put down power more scientifically and efficiently, they ought to be faster here right??

Wrong!!

Allow me elaborate. On the Electra, we managed to negotiate those treacherous turns at speeds upwards of 40 kmph. On a R15 or an Apache, I would have had to reduce speed to a fraction to stay within safety limits. The sluggish manner of power delivery also meant that I never had to bother about traction for the rear wheel while accelerating. I have horrid memories of the rear wheel of my 200 Pulsar giving away on a climb when I opened the throttle moderately in gear 2. Thought of a similar instance on this kind of terrain makes my spine shiver. For here, it is not just a fall; it is The END.  Finally, the very obvious advantage of the RE is its impeccable balance. The heavy machine challenges you to bend at high speeds, drive through loose gravel and rocky surface all the while enticing you to push it more.

I have always been fascinated by the Himalayas and have been fortunate enough to have witnessed them a couple of times: courtesy my travel& drive-happy parents.. But it is this time that the reality, the enormity and the magnificence of the Himalayas sank in like never before.

Never before had I witnessed all this. There cannot be a whiter white, bluer sky, higher heights, purer air and chillier chill than that day.. The snow, the sky and the mountains made for a pilgrimage together. There was no human habitation visible for miles & miles, just pure white behemoths surrounding us. There was little left of the road as the melting snow was gobbling it up continuously. We navigated cautiously through the last miles until where the road was open. We had long forgotten as to when we had seen another vehicle and the reason was obvious. The road we were moving on was theoretically closed. It was impossible for a four wheeler to reach this place and even for a bike, it was too adventurous.

Then, the road reduced to a thin black path contrasting the snow all around it. Going on was too risky and I was not sure if our bodies could withstand more. The road was so narrow that turning the bike around was going to be a challenge too. The sun was disappearing fast as well. I felt there were several less painful ways of committing suicide than driving on this road at night.

I conveyed this to Prasad and told him it was just impossible to drive on. Prasad was visibly disappointed. From what I could figure: his relationship with nature is a romantic one. But he too realized that this was not the time and neither were we aptly equipped for this adventure. Our limbs were devoid of any kind of sensation for there seemed to be a disconnect between the brain and other body parts. We could sense our brain sending orders to the hands but our eyes confirmed that the hands never reacted the way they were expected to. How Prasad managed to click photos or I managed the throttle, clutch and gear is still a mystery.

Hence with a heart that had been bashed up by the logical part of the brain, I turned back. The picturesque mountains of the return journey did lift up our spirits again.

Special thanks to Prasad for the pics, being a wonderful conversationalist and most importantly: being hell bent on going on..

Words are too shallow for the Royal Enfield motorcycle. You have to experience it yourself to know what purpose it works for. I started as a skeptic and returned a believer of the Royal Thunder..

However, this remains an unfinished business. Rohtang pass eventually leads to Leh-Ladakh. That 400 Km drive is the ultimate lakshya.. The toughest road beckons.

The discovery that their offspring is upto things that have no remote correlation with the nation’s GDP or betterment of the society is great disappointment for my parents. Though they love their child, they do not think very highly of his intelligence. Yet the brat perceives such trips as highly productive. For this experience liberates your soul, humbles you in front of the mighty Himalayas.

Turn the Page: Mumbai to Delhi

All the same 'ole cliches: is it real? Is it done?
And you always seem outnumbered, you dare not make a stand,

But, make your stand.

There was a lot of thought process that went behind this trip. The same story again. Too impractical, too risky and too exhausting.  A lot many took this idea too seriously and tried to talk me out of it. But then, I have always found great humor in the fact that we take ourselves too seriously about things like career, certifications and social status. Here I am, thinking of wasting precious man-hours to ride from Mumbai to Delhi. No matter what I get out of this, I know I am not going to forget this. This has to be one of those times when I would let the heart rule over the mind.. So:

Day 1:

On a long and lonesome highway east of Omaha
You can listen to the engines, moanin' out it's one old song
You can think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before

7:30 in the morning and I had almost escaped from Mumbai. Soon the UT of Daman came up. All that I’d heard about this place turned out to be quite apt: many shady places with the sole USP of cheap booze.

You and I have heard and read a lot about Gujarat and my; come noon: I was not disappointed at all.. The roads remain spectacular and the rapid industrialization is very apparent. Critics may say that I’m travelling on the NH8 and all that I see is the Centre’s effort. Agreed but then, Gujarat has managed to make use of the centre’s help and implement the projects better than others..

The capital: Ahmedabad is truly growing at a phenomenal pace and even the outer roads are brilliant. My only complaint is that bikes are not allowed on the Ahmedabad- Baroda (Vadodara) expressway. The sister city of Gandhinagar was avoided and as the sun tired out, even I could sense my concentration waning. So I stopped for a late lunch at a highway dhaba.

But your thoughts will soon be wandering the way they always do
When you're riding sixteen hours and there's nothing much to do
You don't feel much like ridin', you just wish the trip was through

A scary situation presented itself beyond the town Himmatnagar: a border town of Gujarat. There had been little inhabitation since a long time and miraculously, the fuel pumps had vanished. This was a matter of concern, since at that opportune hour, I had little fuel left. As I put my grey cells into use, the mystery unfolded. The obvious explanation was that I was nearing the state of Rajasthan which might have priced fuel a lot lower than Gujarat (this theory was confirmed sometime later). Hence the political & economic dynamics had wiped out all the pumps in this region; the regulars on the highway would prefer driving to Rajasthan to refuel. Some truckers even carry fuel in alternative storages from states where it is cheaper. However, I am not a regular; nor am I a trucker. Hence I was in a big problem. I changed my cruising speed to make the most out of every drop of fuel.

In what seemed like eternity, I finally saw a board welcoming me to Rajasthan. Sure enough, there were a handful of pumps offering fuel. I stopped at the first and filled my tank. However, I noticed a changed note of the engine. Closer analysis revealed a crack in the silencer.. Shoot..

I did a detailed check and figured out there was nothing much I could do besides allowing it to cool and then carrying on. The petrol attendant watched me and we struck a conversation:

A: Sirjee, Kahan se?

M: Mumbai..

A: Driving since yesterday? Bike?? !!

I gave my starting time of today and the fellow dolted like a rabbit. He came back a minute later with his buddies and a person who seemed like the manager. The gang got into a deep conversation about my journey and insisted that I join them for tea and ‘snakes’.

But here I am, on the road again
There I am, up on the stage
There I go, playing the star again
There I go, turn the page

The friendly banter had to be concluded as the shadows lengthened and grew fainter. I mounted the bike and gunned the engine in an attempt to beat the sun. Alas, the sun went down and the headlamps lit up the tarmac. More than the night, the erratic behaviour of the Rajasthan soil scared me. I had read that sand gains and loses heat quickly. Tonight, it was out to prove this. The temperature dropped with each passing minute and soon my teeth were chattering with cold. The exhaust system had totally given up and the engine sounded as if it were propelling a dirt bike. I finally made it to Udaipur at 7:30pm. After a quick shower, I drove around town to refresh my memories of the lake, palace and the Sukhadia circle (Tip: Never get conned into going to Sukhadia circle; it’s pathetic). May I take this opportunity to recommend the ‘Natraj’ hotel’s thali’ which is rightfully a local legend.

Day 2

The ride started at 6:15 am and my: it was chilly. Same ol’ story: hands shivering, teeth chattering and the body yearning  for warmth amidst the freezing wind. At 10, I couldn’t take it anymore and had to stop at a dhaba for something hot before Ajmer.

You walk into a restaurant, strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you, as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you, but you just want to explode
And most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can

Within an hour, I was subject to the other extreme: the sun shone relentlessly and burnt quite some of my skin. Ajmer to Jaipur is the best of NH-8 and if you’re driving below 100 kmph, you run the risk of being labelled a slow-poke and being run over. Sadly, the Jaipur- Delhi stretch is a big mess. The 6 laning project is on and ensures that there are innumerous bottlenecks and craters. The last 200 kms really shook me up; and my bike as well. At 4:10pm, I reached the airport with a slightly dislodged tail lamp, front fender and of course: the broken exhaust system. For a wretchedly used 5 year old bike, I’d say its still aging gracefully.

Out there in the spotlight, your a million miles away
Every ounce of energy, you try to give away
And the sweat pours out your body, like the music that you play
Later in the evening, as you lie awake in bed
With the echoes of the amplifiers, ringin' in your head
You smoke the days last cigarette, rememberin' what she said
What she said

Another philosophical journey comes to an end. In the last 2 days, I got time to look into myself, view my life as an outsider: the events, agents and circumstances.. Come to terms with the past and most importantly, get myself ready for the next phase of life…

Idiots & Motorcyclists..

Though our nation is full of enthusiastic riders, I bet there are not more than 5 % who are actual riders. Everyday I see an idiot making suicidal maneuvers and creating a disaster; or avoiding one by a hair’s margin. One often wonders: with such a healthy record of stupidity behind them, how have such creatures managed to survive to date. When I confront such people, it is shocking that they attribute their narrow escapes and such endeavors to their heroism, riding & chick impressing skills.

The other day, on a jam-packed road: an R15 decided to make use of a couple of inches on the wrong side of the road and accelerated as if to break the company specified record of 0-60 kmph sprint in the Yamaha brochure. In the meantime, gears shifted and the traffic moved. It so happened that the enthusiast was heading for a gap between a truck and me. I swerved my borrowed car to help save the fellow but the trucker was not so generous. When the idiot realized that the gap was too narrow, he braked in haste, skidded and fell: with the bike and his spouse.. While the moron got a couple of scrapes and was grinning away to glory at his feat, his spouse ended up with a nasty gash, a torn bag and a shock. All she could manage was a stern dismissive look at the moron. A word of advice to the pillion riders: if someone does put you in such danger, you should not have a moment’s hesitation to slap the rider hard. He/she has had no concern for your safety and well being and needs to be taught a lesson.

Lost in their own world are they? Sigh.. There is nothing much that you and I can do.. Just avoid such company for your own road trips..

I have no qualms in admitting that I am not an angelic figure who’s out on a drive to cleanse the road and the society for a better world. My biggest problem with such creatures is that they are corrupting the word and the world of ‘Motorcycling’.

Thanks to such people, my mom addresses lovely bikes as suicide machines.

A friend of mine: when introducing me to a fine lady labeled me as a motorcyclist. For a while, the conversation went fine with the lady pointing out how motorcycling signifies freedom and so on. However she went on recalling how meeting me reminded her of a biker friend of hers who could ride from Greater Kailash to Noida in just 35 minutes in peak traffic..

I thought of giving her a lesson on the difference between motorcycling and lunacy.. But then I just sighed and had to drive the conversation away from my favorite topic: Motorcycling.. 

The CBR 250..

The CBR 250 is hot property these days. The damn bike is so scarce that I had to travel some 200kms to a neighboring town to test ride it (the dealers in the city had already sold off everything they could get their hands on; the test drive vehicle included).

So with that kind of effort, expectations are definitely high. Add to that Honda: a name that is synonymous with quality, refinement and perfection. Undoubtedly, the CBR 250 had a lot to live up to.

The looks are somewhat moderate. Sure, the huge front and thick profile tires do appeal to most red blooded males, but that’s about it. When I label the looks as ‘moderate’, I say so because of a couple of experiences I had. Allow me to elaborate. When a guy buys a bike, there are a number of things on his mind. While freedom, power, fun are important factors associated with a bike, ‘impressing chicks’ is a vital one as well. This is where the CBR 250 might just let you down. I told a lady friend of mine about Honda’s new bike and how it will propel riders to the sports bike category with its not so astronomical price tag. When I actually showed it to her, she said “That’s it? Ok.. Umm.. Doesn’t look like a very expensive bike though. I think the Pulsars and Yamahas look meaner.”

Let’s leave the debate on the looks for some other day and get down to the basics. The bike feels a lot lighter than it actually is thanks to the low centre of gravity and balance achieved by Honda’s engineers. The engine is a 250cc liquid cooled unit which generates 25 bhp and is coupled to a 6 speed gear-box. Though it offers plenty of power, it does seem a bit thrashy by Honda standards when revved hard. Of late, we Indians have been spoilt by those free revving engines from TVS and Bajaj, so reaching the 11k red line on the Honda was not something out of the ordinary. There is almost no one who can outperform the CBR 250, yet it does not inspire that brashness. City driving is pleasurable as the low end torque nullifies the need for frequent gear shift. The exhaust note is a bit silent and the power delivery is a bit too smooth for charged up riders. The gearbox is a class apart and the light clutch makes gear shifts a very pleasurable affair. I realized I was shifting a lot more than what was necessary thanks to the slickness of the entire operation. The instrument cluster is a amiable unit and the ABS brakes are a boon for our Indian roads where I’ve lost count of times when I’ve been forced to brake hard on our roads to avoid potholes, dogs, cows or humans.

What annihilates all debate is the price. The overall specs and price (Rs. 1,56,000 ex-showroom ) of CBR 250 help it carve a niche for itself in the market. It offers a mini-superbike experience at an acceptable price tag. If I were to deliberately compare it with other bikes in the market, I would be lost. For the baby Kwacker: the Ninja 250 is definitely a better performer than the CBR but it will ask you to shell out a lot more (2.5 lakh: ex-showroom). The other competitor: Pulsar 220 doesn’t pose much of a threat as it just not in that league. No wonder this bike is already a winner.

A Road tripper’s ride to Shirdi

The purpose was a bit different. While I was looking forward to visit the famous temple, I wanted to re-establish that relationship with my machine. In the recent past, I have had little opportunity to drive and take care of the m’cycle, and the elements were challenging the relation as well. The blue beast had been subjected to treacherous rains, moisture and vandalism in the terrible city and as much as I tried to protect it; I always a step behind the threats. A stolen relay, rusting screws and a rattling exhaust system proved that the city was powerful. “Is the performance really as good as it was earlier?” Hence one could say that the relationship that the bike n I shared was scarred and it would take a lot of Kms to rebuild that trust.

So I thought it’d be wise not to put others through the torture and set off alone for Shirdi. I started at around 5:45am. The NH-3 is relatively easy to get to from Vile Parle, the route being: cross the Western Expressway to get to Andheri (E) -> MIDC Marol (to avoid the metro construction chaos @ Andheri (E) ) -> Eastern Exressway @ Powai -> Left at the end of the expressway.

From here, the highway is phenomenal and within a few minutes, one crosses Thane. A bottleneck is found at the toll plaza before Thane. Though warned about this, I realized the intensity only when I actually saw this. The line of monstrous trucks stretches for almost a Km. The bike proved to be an advantage here and I wriggled out of this area in a couple of minutes. It was 6:45 when the odo declared that I had completed 50 Kms. The sun was not out yet and the speed ranged from 80-100kmph depending on the car I chose to follow. As the Kms in the odometer increased, another serious problem cropped up. The winds were getting chilly. In my preparation for the trip, though I had researched on the quality of roads, availability of petrol, food, etc, I had forgotten about a very vital element: The Weather. Now the winds were punishing me. Science says that sea is a great moderator keeping the temperatures almost at specific levels. The winds near Mumbai were cool and my windcheater ensured that I was comfortable. Now that I was moving away from the coast line, the real winter of India greeted me. After a few minutes, the temperature dropped drastically and I stopped at a fuel station just to ask the attendant how cold it was. “12-14 degree C sir..”. No wonder my body was numb and my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. I had no other option but to continue at a moderate speed, praying that the sun would be out soon. At around 7:30, the dark sky slowly morphed into shades of blue & orange and just as I entered the ghat section, it happened! The sun was out!

While it was a beautiful sight, it was the warmth that I was dying for. As I ascended the ghats, the view got prettier and strangely the cold intensified; defying the might of the sun. The shivering and chattering continued and the ghats proved to be a real treat for drivers. There were slopes, banked roads which called for quick gear shifts and throttle.

The ghats end at Igatpuri and a sign declares a right turn to get off NH 3 to head towards Shirdi. The next half an hour or so was hell with pathetic roads and an average speed of 20 kmph. Vehicles rattled and even pedestrians chose to stay away from the pothole infested tarmac. Though the quality did improve a little while later, I’d recommend travellers to keep off this route. Later on my return journey, I went to Nasik to get on the NH-3. Though the initial leg had a lot of local traffic and a part of the road is under construction at Nasik, it definitely made me feel better now that my bike was saved from those horrid potholes. When I could no longer feel my palms, legs and fingers, I knew the body could take no more and I stopped at a small dhaba. A huge aloo paratha and a cup of coffee later, I resumed the journey. There were just 60 Kms left and I reached Shirdi by 10:50am: a little over 5 hours from the moment I had started.

As it is with all religious places, touts are ready to pounce on you the moment you land. Dodging the zillion offers and imperatives stated by several touts, I parked and got in the darshan queue. As it was a weekday, crowd was moderate.

It usually takes around half an hour for the darshan; that is if you reach before the aarti time (11am-12pm).

At 1:20pm, I got on the bike again. The return journey was fantastic now that I went through Nasik and the only sad part was getting back to the crawling Mumbai traffic. I reached a few minutes before sunset and the odo declared that the to and fro distance was 510Kms.

Travel logs:

Distance: 250Km+ (One way)

How to get there:

The NH-3 will lead you upto Nashik and the signs to Shirdi will guide you to NH 50 thereafter. There are packages available with overnight buses (Volvos as well) and facilities for freshening up in the morning. (www.neetabus.in)

Stay:

There are plenty of lodging facilities available for overnight stay for a ll budget ranges. Take care to book in advance if you plan a weekend visit.

The Majestic Volt: a brief affair with the Avenger

Vikram was leaving town for a week and he decided that our place with a dedicated parking would be the best place to leave his bike. Also, since his battery was new, would we start and run it periodically?? God bless him!! He called me up and I headed the very next day to pick up the 'Volt'- as he fondly calls his Avenger.

I have many wonderful memories circling around Avenger as well as the Eliminator. Back in school a friend bought the 180 cc Eliminator and he surely managed to graduate to become a chick magnet. Hence, you may imagine the kind of admiration and envy that bike managed to grab. Fast track to college days- when the gang went to Goa. Gogo and I hired Eliminators/ Avengers. Eventually, Gaurav finally bought the bike when he started earning while I went ahead and bought a bike which carries the same engine. The time we had in Goa: the sun, the place, the people and the bikes is perfectly imbibed in our memories. The next time I went to Goa with my family, I hired an Avenger yet again and my cousin & I cruised all of the Goa state in one day!! (160 Kms- touching Maharashtra and getting back to south Goa again).

Thanks to Gogo, I have also driven his Avenger through some picturesque roads.

The two Avengers of our fleet:

Now sitting on Vikram's 'Volt' those memories surfaced again. The relaxed ride posture, legs resting on the distant pedals- just puts you in a different world. I had a comfortable ride home. A couple of days later, I took it to office for the usual 'show-off'. Vikram has put up a mammoth windscreen and it surely makes it a head turner. My friends at work were visibly impressed.

So having had quite a driving experience on the Avenger, I can't help pointing out some facts about this monster. Monster?? Well that's what it is! Try parking it at trying places or wading through narrow gullies and you’ll know. It can make some of us (particularly Gogo) look like a Columbian drug lord. Good thing to keep the trivia on the road away from you. Yes, it does intimidate a few on the road and they won't want to mess with a rider loaded with attitude on an Avenger/ Eliminator. It's been a long time since I have left 0-60 figures, I look for the purpose and the bigger picture. Yet, the acceleration is superb. Anyway, acceleration and top speed come later. What this bike is meant for is comfort. You can just sit and ride forever. Having clocked a lot of miles on my Pulsar 200, this is the first thing to hit me. Arms stretched out, legs relaxing comfortably, the superb soft suspension and the trunk size rear tire- all build up this incomparable driving experience. This is also undoubtedly the most comfortable bike for a pillion.

The motor is directly taken from the Pulsar-200 and it does a magnificent job. However the top gear (which happens to be inadequate for the pulsar 200 itself) does not suit the tire with smaller circumference. The engine peaks at around 90. It provides quite a sight when you are following it. I love following Gogo's bike. You can see the suspension working in a rhythm; the spring folding up and unfolding gradually as they eat up the potholes on the road. Other bikes have their suspension responding as a 'thud' to absorb the shock.

The chassis of this bike though letting you sit like a king poses a lot of problems at the same time. The noise-vibration level of the Eliminator was known to be quite high. The bike used to age pretty soon developing a number of squeaks and rattles at various places. When they got out the Avenger, they put the new engine on the same frame bothering only to tighten a few screws here and there. Avenger was a big improvement over the Eliminator no doubt, but it more or less failed to address the major shortcomings of its predecessor. The result is: though the Avenger is a lot more refined than the Eliminator thanks to the new heart, it still is a high maintenance vehicle. No the engine is superb, no need to bother about that. But one has a tough time fixing the mysterious noises and vibrations that eventually come up. The 200cc power plant is fairly reliable and packs a lot of punch. The transmission is pathetic. Will Bajaj ever learn? It's been 7 years!! The first cog of this kind was put on the Pulsar 180. To date, all the subsequent versions come with the same set of problems. False neutrals and slipping gears- they should mention it in the brochure. The motor is prone to the environment and needs regular servicing and cleaning of spark plugs. Unfortunately, I couldn't allow the local mechanic to touch the Volt's sparks as it is still under the company maintenance program.

Comparing it with the Pulsar 200? Both are built for a different purpose. The Pulsar is bred to be a maniacal street machine whereas Eliminator/Avenger are the mature classy kind with lots of chrome. Riding in the city, nothing better than the pulsar 200 but again nothing more God-like than the cruiser on the highway. If you have a pillion, an Avenger can win you a heart but the Pulsar will invite hell lot of criticism. Maneuverability of the Pulsar and the thrill while accelerating on a single ride is something Avenger can't match but it makes up for it on longer drives. Fully loaded, the bikes perform equally but single ride is a different story with the P-200 leading the way.

In one sentence:

Riding the pulsar is like riding a wild mustang .

Riding the Avenger feels like heading for war in a regal chariot.

I bid goodbye to the Volt yesterday when Vikram came to pick it up. I miss it? Definitely! I was considering pushing Vikram off the balcony!!