The Great Indian Coast to Coast Dash: Mangalore to Chennai

The day started out good, lesser pain than I had anticipated. There was a dull pain in the nape of the neck and my ass hurt, a dull, generalized pain. But not really bad, considering what we had rode through the day earlier. As we lumbered up and started preparing for departure, the memories of yesterday’s ride (only the horrible part near Mangalore) kept coming back to me and I was wondering if I would make it back on similar roads. Shiv had talked to many people and found an alternate route that would let us avoid the hell of yesterday. Really fearing the ride, I packed my bags, and went to put my leg over the bike for another day of hard riding. When we got to the bike we saw that the fat rear tyre was flat, and I could not but adore the bike for not giving up on me during the ride yesterday. I mean such a noble character, this bike, goes through all the trouble I put it through, doggedly moves along to my destination, takes a nail in it sometime and yet, wounded, gets me home before revealing its wounds. Wow! As Shiv moved out to get a repair guy, I promised the Avenger a wax polish as soon as we got back. The repair guy was fetched, the rear wheel detached and taken to his shop, the puncture repaired, and the wheel re attached. In the meanwhile, Maheep had had another forty winks, and we had lost an hour.
Finally, as we set out, I had four seats to choose from. The driver and pillion seats on the Avenger and the Unicorn both. Considering that I’d be on the Avenger for the larger part of the day, and driving for atleast half the day, I decided to try the contours of the Unicorn’s pillion seat. Hopefully, they would make contact with virgin areas on my ass, and redistribute, if not reduce, the pain. As we rode out through the streets of the city, stopping at a mechanic’s to do some adjustments on the Avenger’s brakes, I realized that there was no improvement in the pain because of the change in seating arrangement. Also, during our Chennai Mangalore ride, we had been complaining about the inadequacy of the Avenger’s pillion seat. (After all, the only comparison that we had was the Avenger’s front seat, and I am almost sure that there is no more comfortable seating on two wheels southwards of Rs 1 lakh. A rather expensive proposition for a Sofa, you will say, but then again, which sofa can go throughout the day at 100kmph and can run at 80kmph till the tanks run dry or the roads give up? ) so we realized, that the Avenger’s back seat wasn’t that bad at all. Maheep also realized that he would be on the Avenger for the day, so we had a switch, Shiv with his leather half gloves and yellow – orange shirt riding the Avenger, me on the Unicorn’s pillion, with Maheep driving.
We had now cleared the city limits and were proceeding on Shiv’s daily bus route, through some lush green village roads with sparse traffic, keeping up a comfortable 60 kmph through the twisting roads. We crossed Infosys, situated on a panoramic hilltop surrounded by bright green valleys, overlooking the sea. Lovely, how someone had thought to make a sweat shop for I don’t know how many thousand people at the spot ideal for a retiree’s cottage. Or ironic. Whatever. We had now cleared the outskirts of Mangalore and were climbing, steadily scaling the Ghats on our way to Madikeri. We had planned to go through Madikeri to Mysore and then join up the Chennai bound NH7 at Hosur, trying to bypass Bangalore somehow. Based on our harrowing experience of the day before, we had estimated a total riding time of 20 hours with another four hours of breaks. We were optimistically hoping to be in our flat by 4 AM on Monday morning, and, in case of further derailment of plans, had decided to spend the night at Bangalore or Hosur.
Going through the consistently breathtaking scenery on the roads leading upto Madikeri, I felt refreshed, just taking in the sights, stopping at some places to just look at the mountain tops piercing the cloud cover, a distant mountain stream furiously foaming and fighting its way down through dense growth and stubborn rocks, resting a while as it crossed roads rather tamely and then continuing its struggle. Soon, I was driving, and in order to reduce fatigue at this early stage, we were frequently switching between the driving and pillion seats. The climb, the scenery and the twisting roads, coupled with moderate traffic kept us at 40 kmph, and frankly, remembering the crawl at which we had been moving the day before, we were not complaining.
Soon, we entered Madikeri, a quaint little hill town bustling with sightseers. I took a painkiller for the headache and body ache that I had been having, Maheep took one too, and we crossed town, looking out for a place to eat and sit. We found a small hotel overlooking the valley and stopped the bikes. The ride upto here had been rather tiring, and Shiv had decided to make this his return point. We ordered chai, food and more chai, and as the order came, sprawled on the hard sofa in the lobby in an effort to channel our body weight through other parts of our body than the posterior. The rest was refreshing, and I thought it better to have such stops, assuming that we would be riding late into the night. The food, rather tasty, arrived, and were ready to part in a short while. We asked about the directions and the road conditions and got three contradicting opinions, one saying that the road for the next 30 km was bad and then good till Mysore, other saying that the road for the next 30 km was good and bad from there, and one guy plainly saying that the roads were bad throughout.
The goodbyes were said, and we rode off, starting our descent towards Coorg district. The downward journey was not much different from the ascent, the roads average, traffic moderate, and the twists ranging between irritating and interesting.
The first 20 odd km went by in an hour, the scenery continued to be lovely, the path twisting and under wheel conditions average. We were soon descending at a much lower rate, and making faster progress on account of the less twisty roads. The scenery was still amazing, though by now we were used to this scenery and were not stopping so often to take pictures. A few houses did stand out, cuddling at the feet of a small hill, ensconced by the jungles, pretty little hideaways from the bustle of Metros, keeping up a symbiotic existence with nature in all its beauty.
I had been thinking as I rode along, and had been considering the purchase of a cushion to bolster the sagging morale of the pillion rider. As we rode at a fairly fast clip through Coorg countryside, I spotted a small mattress shop and did make the purchase. If nothing else, it would at least provide a re distribution of the pressure points. The pain in the posterior was now reaching my head, and was being prevented from reaching majestic proportions only by the fairly good ride that we were having then. The roads were now straight more often than not, traffic moderate and under wheel conditions good. We had upped our speeds to around 60kmph and were making good time. I was still hoping to be in my bed by 4.
We almost crossed Mysore without realizing it, having taken the bypass and never really having entered the city. Soon, we found ourselves outside Mysore, on the Bangalore side, staring at a well marked 4 lane highway with medians. On some asking, we understood that some fast riding awaited us from here on, at least upto Bangalore. Having travelled the Bangalore Chennai route, we knew that we could do that stretch at close to 100 kmph consistently. So, the only patch of uncertainty lay between entering Bangalore and leaving it. Bangalore traffic was something that I wanted to avoid at all cost, especially after such amount of riding. Bangalore was, essentially the halfway mark in terms of distance, even though time wise, it was well beyond the half way mark. As we stopped for chai at a road side tapir, I did a re calculation of travel times, based on much higher average speeds that I was now looking up to. I kept a clear 2 hours for the Bangalore stretch, and assumed a steady 80 kmph average speed for the remaining distance. Surprisingly, this working showed that I’d be in bed at 1. Boy, was I happy!
We set off, determined to beat my calculations. Having seen excellent conditions after such a long time, I had the opportunity to twist my right hand freely and we were soon cruising at 90 – 100 kmph. The under wheel conditions were excellent, roads arrow straight for the most part, but the traffic was now dense, though fast moving. I have always considered this kind of riding to be my forte, and I believe that I can use the bike’s sharper acceleration and handling to keep rather fast speeds going through the dense traffic. Having had this opportunity after a long time, and remembering the college time Tumkur – Bangalore runs, I was rather pumped up, or maybe the painkiller was finally working, helping us to go on a fast clip, at one point taking on a train and beating it. The sanitized, boring highways that I so did not like yesterday was the best thing for me at that point of time. I was, as always, trying to max out on daylight riding, hoping to cross Bangalore with some light remaining, the Bangalore Chennai part now seemed to be my backyard, and I was totally confident of crossing it in the night, even with one of us sleeping most of the time and both of us sleeping some of the time.
As we approached Mandya, the rains started their race again, but this time even they were moving fast, and we did get drenched more than a couple of times before we finally managed to outrun it. The entire stretch was almost continuous high speed riding, with only a couple of stops to change drivers. A traffic signal at Mandya was the first time that we stopped for more than a minute. Fatigue was telling now on both of us, and we dicided to slow down for a while, on the lookout for a decent place to stop. Café Coffee Day signs on the highway were enticing, though we did not stop there, choosing to ride on in the face of receding lights. We did stop, but this time it was for the outflow of fluids. I stretched my legs a bit too, jogging for a short distance and doing a few sit ups, trying to keep the legs alive. We set out again, still clinging on to near 100 kmph speeds, getting nearer and nearer to Bangalore as the light kept falling steadily.
As we were approaching Bangalore, I had been thinking of a road that met the Hosur road as a flyover near Attibelle. I remember someone saying that it was the road to Mysore, the Mysore Infrastructure Corridor, a stretch of almost uninterrupted highway with little traffic. I was not sure if the road was operational, but had been asking about it, as taking it would mean completely bypassing Bangalore’s traffic.
We crossed Wonder La and soon saw boards showing different roads for Hosur and Bangalore, something that I was hoping for. We took the Hosur road and were soon delighted to get on a six lane highway that was almost totally empty. This was also the first toll booth that charged for bikes too. We paid up and raced on, happy to see a well laid, empty road stretching out as far as the eyes could see. The bike was soon doing its max, trying to climb over the 110 mark, when, looking at the mirrors, I saw the sun, diminishing glory as it slowly stepped down from its throne. The rays hit the wet roads and bounced off, giving the entire road behind us a beautiful golden radiance, and giving me the image of being Sooraj’s satwa ghoda, riding right out of a setting sun. the road, though was not complete, and at multiple places, we had to move out on to public roads, and then turn around and rejoin the MICE road after crossing the unfinished stretch. At one such point, we took a wrong turn and were on to the Bangalore traffic, and very suddenly, the time required to reach Hosur had gone up by threes. A situation that I was not ready to face, we turned around and after going through a one way street, were directed to some bad roads that took us back on the MICE. Relief. The throttle was twisted in fury and the bike broke out in high speed ecstasy yet again.
Very soon, we exited the MICE, having reached Electronic City. We were now running low on fuel, and traffic had increased substantially and under wheel conditions deteriorated significantly, resulting in a 50 kmph ride. Petrol is expensive in Karnatake, so we took only a couple liters, enough to clea the Electronic City traffic and reach Hosur. The highway around Hosur is under construction, and the night driving conditions are extremely bad, with a total absence of lighting, dug up patches of roads just about anywhere, and the intercity buses and trucks racing through the darkness. Many panic braking situations presented themselves, me stopping just short of a flimsy, almost invisible sign that said ‘Diversion’, and was the only defence that was provided to motorists from a 10 foot fall. And oh, did I fail to mention that it had been raining, reducing visibility to less than one car length, making the driving as much of guesswork as much as it was skill. We crossed the bad stretch at a fairly average speed, and, drenched, stopped for some food, and, of course, chai. We had entered Tamil Nadu, and tanked up on the slightly cheaper fuel as I went into a stinky public bathroom, stripped and tried to wring my clothes dry. And the socks. Wet socks, I believe, are the most morale declining factors that I have ever encountered. As we sat at the restaurant, shoes and socks drying at nearby chairs, drinking almost a jug of chai each, we realized that it was only seven. A relaxed ride would mean 5 hours to Chennai, and the warm bed. Suddenly, a new prospect reared its head. Coast to Coast and back inside 48 hours! Wow! A comfortable target, we had a good meal, loads of chai, and then we set out again, almost on the home stretch now.
I made slow progress initially, the rain and spray from vehicles forcing me to drive blind, looking out for the tail lights of vehicle up ahead. This is not really confidence inspiring riding, and I was soon getting irritated, when I was overtaken by a guy in a bike, no helmets, no raincoat, riding full throttle, weaving his way between the trucks and buses. Thankful of this Godsend, I raced up to about two cars length behind him and stuck to his tyreprints. He braked, I braked. He raced, I raced. He had taken away all my risk and doubled my speed. For the first time, I was glad that such stupid riders existed. The rains continued till the slight hilly terrain that is encountered till about 60 km from Hosur.
From then on, as the rain subsided, and traffic thinned, we steadily increased speeds, with the speedo again trying to break free of the 110 kmph mark. We crossed Krishnagiri after a couple of hours of fast, but boring riding. More chai and some snacks, and some walking to free up our limbs, and we were back on the bike again. The rain had now stopped, but the wet socks stuck to my feet with a damp, depressing chill that was creeping up on me. I had an idea and decided to test it on Maheep. I asked him to remove his shoes and tie it to the bag tied behind the bike, thus ensuring that the socks dry out quick in the hot air coming from the engine. The idea was successful, and so after a few minutes, we stopped again, this time Maheep put on, and I removed my shoes, and also my socks, and tied them to the bag. As I was about to pull my leg over, I realized that there was another piece of clothing that was giving the same damp feeling to other vital organs. I decided to step out of it, and then ensued a towel covered road side strip show, on successful completion of which, I was feeling much more free and dry.
We got on the bike, Maheep driving and rode towards the East Coast, which was at that time reeling under some very picturesque lightning. After a while I realized that my jeans, still wet were not drying up as they did not get too much air. A driver switch solved this problem, and very soon, I was totally dry after a long, long time, even if this had come to me at the cost of a few intimate pieces of clothing. Another couple of hours and we had entered Chennai, the deserted outskirts very similar to the day before (even though it felt like years) when we had left them, heading out to the West Coast.
At 15 minutes past midnight, we pulled up in our flat, the trip meter reading 1514km, and the clock registering the trip completed in 46 hours.