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.. 

Scuba Diving @ Sindhudurg..

continued from: http://lifeisanopenroad2me.blogspot.in/2012/02/konkan.html

The day began with a drive to the station to meet the gang. The first thing on our agenda was scuba diving. We headed to the Malvan town and struck a deal with the diving- operator. Bargaining hard, we managed to get it to 1000 per head. A pretty decent deal though negotiating too hard with a fellow who’s filling oxygen in a tank for you is not a very bright idea. Mr. Gubbi like many of us water-phobic souls had his apprehensions and was calculating the probability of one of us asphyxiating underwater.

The operator’s boat took us near the island on which Sindhudurg fort is built as the coral is supposed to be majestic here. Diving was a challenging experience. Whether you know swimming or not is irrelevant. Arun & Varun’s command over swimming is as good as their skills with Mandarin & tribal Swahili music, yet they managed a brilliant stint underwater. The toughest part is getting used to breathing through the mouthpiece and familiarizing oneself with the valve. Any attempt to breathe through the nose will give you a feeling of suffocation and you may just panic underwater. Similarly, without a tight hold on the mouthpiece, the water just might sneak in and eventually start filling your lungs.

I took a while getting used to it and went in. The experience is truly out of the world. For here you are, seeing something you would never have experienced or dreamt of before. The life forms are immense in number. With due respect to Discovery, NatGeo etc, I will say this is something you have to experience yourself; TV just can’t recreate it. While I’m no fan of over-hyped expressions of our desi cinema, Hrithik Roshan’s tear-shedding expression in Spain made sense now. The fish were intriguing: zebra striped, small huge, some even bigger than my arm.

Then it happened.. There was water in my mouth… I had the brains to not make an attempt to open my windpipe and flood my lungs, but in desperation I tried my nose. Immediately I suffocated. I signalled my instructor. Within 10 seconds which seemed like forever, I was at the surface. Upon enquiring what had happened, my instructor told me what had gone wrong: There was a slip in my concentration and my mouth had given way to water. Then I remembered: perhaps my lips had curled into a smile upon greeting some weird creature; that slight angle was enough for water to seep in. I promised to not do that again, but now could we continue? I had no clue about the time. Wasn’t it a few moments back that I’d started? He then enlightened me that oblivious to my senses, a good 10 minutes had passed! However, he would be kind enough to take me even deeper..

This time I was at least 20-30 feet deep and the coral got even more interesting. The downside was a couple of scratches and cuts on my hands thanks to these sharp corals.

Varun (and Arun thereafter) had similar experiences and they came out with some lasting memories. In the evening, we headed to Tarkarli beach. Almost a virgin beach, this was one of the cleanest and prettiest beaches I have seen. John & Rajath decided to try out parasailing at the beach and were definitely thrilled. The evening included some great wining & dining. The Konkan curries call for a robust digestive system and a capacity for spices. The fish was great and we ended up having at least double of what we’d initially ordered.

The next day we headed out for Ganpatipule. Again, coastal highway was taken and we were rewarded with many lovely sights. This was an unknown road from Ratnagiri to Ganpatipule which was unmarked in most maps.

In the evening, I had to bid the gang goodbye. I was a bit tense as I knew it’d be dark by the time I get to Mumbai. On the other side, the ride was very enjoyable as the temperature dropped and the highway had moderate traffic. The only problem that night was.. U guessed it: getting to Mumbai. 50-70 kms near the city and you feel like you are in hell. Humidity, smoke and pathetic roads kill the high, even at 11pm

.

In all, I was glad I made this trip. And that I’d chosen to ride. I’ve driven some terrific highways but this one was just made for my bike. The other brilliant national highways (NH3, NH4) are a bit too straight and too fast. In short: Boring after a while. The Konkan terrain is something that keeps you on the edge; you yearn for the next turn, bend, the climb, descent and the beautiful sights..

Konkan: valleys, rivers, beaches, forests & more..

It is difficult to describe the beauty of Konkan.  The world is full of different people: some pray for sea-shores & beaches, some for green forests while some like me wish for mountains. It seems that God wished to annihilate that divide so here’s what was done: Mountains, hills, forests with an endless variety of trees, rivers, coasts, ridges were put in a pot, mixed thoroughly and thus was born the Konkan region.

I mean, throughout my ride, I was startled by the sheer richness of the region: ups and downs on the road meant that I could never figure out whether what I see in the horizon is the sky or the sea!! It has stuff that you don’t find on the map, talk or even sight. You have to experience it yourself.

The Mumbai-Goa highway is quite an interesting ride. Nothing spectacular:  a decently tarred surface which is a two lane throughout. The picturesque surroundings more than make up for the couple of rough patches.

The road meanders along beautiful rivers. The numerous ghats challenge your concentration and driving skills. The beauty of the surroundings has the potential to convert the village idiot into a poet.

The Goa highway had given me as much pleasure as it could, now I yearned for the sea. This means that I will have to leave this highway and head towards the Indian ocean and get on the coastal highway. At Ratnagiri, I asked a couple of people and everyone advised me against it. Fed up with the mismatch between the practical and romantic camps, I chose to play the romantic. I took a right on the next obscure road, leaving the highway for a semi-paved road that didn’t declare where it was heading to . With a map, I selected a couple of villages that should get me to the coast and started asking the rare passerbys for directions. The drive was slow, thrilling and philosophically enchanting. Villages and people who live at their own pace, kids considering me a peculiar species on a weird spaceship. They have time to stop, help you and strike a conversation.

Strange: You can feel lonely in a city of 30 million, but in this nowhere-land which is home for perhaps a dozen people; I never felt insecure or uneasy.

Today was a fine ride. I had driven hard on ghats, straights but had slowed down whenever I found the surrounding enchanting. I believe that if you hurry with something you like, it is an indicator that you are no longer interested in it and want to get over with it. That’s the beauty of a bike. In a car, I feel like I am watching television. On the motorcycle, I am actually in nature’s lap. The varying scent of trees, vegetation, the changes in temperature, the sights and sounds are actually remembered forever. Some say I’m crazy to head out alone on a motorcycle this way and am perhaps over-hyping the whole experience. However, this is the only content and true experience I have with my inner self. Rest of the time I’m just feigning sense in that everyday routine just like the rest of the world.

However, having reached Devgad fort at 5:30 pm, this poetic experience had to make way for security and practicality. The sun was going down fast and I was some 50 kms from my destination. I determinedly headed south. However, after a while the sun disappeared and I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no clue of the direction (as I said: my old guide sun was no longer telling me where west is). When I say middle of nowhere, I actually mean middle of nowhere. After driving on a narrow road for around half an hour, I was surprised not to have found a single soul all this while. As I stopped on a hilltop, I could only see absolutely same landscape on all four sides. Moderate vegetation, no sight of the sea and hills as far your sight goes.

In the middle of nowhere...

At moments like these, you get into survival mode and get philosophical about the purpose of your life, or whatever little is left of it. However, A messiah appeared out of nowhere and I flagged down the human. Two seemed to be a minority in this endless forest and after exchanging a few words, the fellow suggested that I follow him. And then we sped up. 40 minutes of gruelling riding and I was in habitation once again. I thanked my guide and started the search of a hotel.

I realized that this town has a pace very different from what we are used to. The home stay owners were greatly inconvenienced due to the fact that some crazy customer was at their door at an obscenely late hour: i.e. 8:00 pm.

I surveyed almost all hotels and finally settled down in Gajanan resort (I don’t think you’ll find better value!)

Trip Log: (To & fro with coastal detours, visit to Kudal & GanpatiPule)

Odo: 1262 Km

Hot Hatches: Figo & Brio

This is a tale of two hot hatches of the season.

The first is the one which took the market by surprise, the response was beyond what the manufacturer expected. Yep, we’re talking about the Ford Figo. I was curious to find out the reason for this success and hence headed to the Ford dealership to check out the 1.2L petrol.

What I found out was that it was not the fastest hatch, nor is it the largest. Yet it is definitely the most balanced car I’ve driven in a while. The power is just fine, the cabin space is quite generous, it has its own lovely features, has a pleasing exterior (don’t even remind me of those hideous toad like creatures called the Ritz & the Swift) and most importantly- it is offered at a good price.

The best part is the ride quality and handling. Yes!! We get the legendary Ford hydraulic steering system which gives excellent feedback. The suspension eats up the potholes easily and the car remains stable even at extreme turns. After getting chummy with the showroom guy and getting his permission to push the car, I did an aggressive U-turn at around 30-40 kmph. Any other car, and our dear Shubham would have featured in tomorrow’s obituary column. But the Ford made it just fine. The motor provides a flattish torque and though it doesn’t break any records on the track, it serves well in the city.

The second hot hatch for the day was the Honda Brio. Here is a product that has immense potential but there are great challenges to face. For starters, Honda did not fully localize its assembly . 20% of its parts are imported. With the earthquake in Japan and recent floods in Thailand, Honda’s landed in deep trouble. They just haven’t been able to assemble enough Brios and the Jazz'.

On the greener side, you’ve finally got a Honda that’s affordable without compromising on quality or performance. The finish is superb and even the base model comes pretty well loaded (Decent interioirs, front power windows n all). The engine is what you expect from Honda: smooth; silent; yet peppy; rev-happy & frugal. It is definitely fun to drive around in the city and it felt at ease when I revved it to the redline in gear two. The economy indicator is a great buddy to help you squeeze out more miles from that drop of petrol.

This is great car for a couple: you know the newly married, carefree types.. Add to that a kid or two or parents/in laws or even visitors- and then you have a problem. For the Brio’s fundamental problem is space. The boot does not open, you have to manage with the glass lid (remember the very first Maruti 800??). Rear leg space is tight and I wonder what you would do if there were four people and two large suitcases. The thought of such occupancy levels in a Brio seems grotesque. So if you are a Brio owner who has a couple of visitors occasionally; like most Indians do, God help you.

There is no winner here for you’d own these cars for different purposes entirely. As I said, the family man would love the spacious, feature heavy & economical Figo. The mod city dweller would like to be seen alone (or with his/her spouse/ gf/ bf) in the trendy Brio. He/She can enjoy the quality, dependable Honda engineering, peppy ride and of course: the fuel economy.. 

If you were to ask me the question: Where do I recommend you to plonk your sacks of money? My answer still is: i-10. For I still crown it as the most sensible car in the segment.

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.