It was some time now since Supertramp hit the roads towards the hills. With new shoes shod on, Supertramp was egging and begging to hit the tarmac again. A ride with Kenny was also long overdue and some iterations and considerations later, we decided to head towards the hills again. Sankri was the the designated place to be. Google pointed it was around 420 km, which bolstered our intentions. Even considering that the hills start pretty much immediately after Paonta Sahib, we reckoned we could go the distance this time and reach out destination in about a stretched 7 hours. My previous trip to Manila had taken me about 7 hours or so. Kenny warned me that our speeds wouldn't be as much since I would be the only one on a KTM.
With a few invites floating out, Ankit was the third person who was confirmed to join us on this ride. The total tally was 3 riders, something I was comfortable with since we had some distance to cover and a larger posse takes longer time, sometimes much longer. We decided on the dates on 1st, 2nd and 3rd of October for a weekend ride.
The riders :
Kenny on his Bullet Electra 350
Ankit on his Classic 350
I, on Supertramp
The route :
Crossings – Delhi- Panipat- YamunaNagar- Kalesar-Paonta Sahib-Kalsi-Barkot-Purola- Mori-Sankri
Day 1
I did not sleep on the Friday night. Office commitments and late night submissions kept me awake till the wee hours. By the time I was done with the office chores, it was 0330 hours and time for me to pack the luggage on Supertramp. The time to meet up with the other two riders at the landfill site on NH1 was 0430 Hours. I was ready by 0400 hours and readied Supertramp to head towards NH1 from Crossings. A brief stop later at Majnu ka Tila for tanking up, I was at the site at 0445 hours where Kenny and Ankit were waiting.
Without ado, we sped off towards Panipat. It was still dark and chilly. It was the first time Supertramp was on NH1 and the first time we were feeling the winter chill of North India. We were determined to cover 100 kms before the first pit stop and we did stick to it. It was still pitch black when we passed Sonipat and dawn was just breaking out when we were crossing the Panipat Elevated Highway. We re-assembled at the Panipat toll booth and found a couple of RE Himalayans parked by the side of the road, with the riders waiting for the rest of the their team. RE Himalayan is a name that evokes strong response from me and formed a strong topic of discussion in the entire trip. I simply dislike that bike. To me it’s a half hearted attempt to make an off roader with a huge 440 cc engine belting out a puny 25 bhp. Hell, even the Duke 200 makes more than that with less than half the cubic capacity available. RE engineer cited reasons of fuel efficiency for that state of tune, but with riders reporting anything between 25 to 35 kmpl with their Himalayans, its not exactly fuel efficient. Even EFI is missing for God's sake!
OK, I am digressing here. I should probably talk in details about how I loathe the Himalayan in a separate blog!
Anyway, a few kilometers later, it was first light and we were feeling pangs of hunger. So we stopped at one "Punjabi Deluxe Dhaba" right on NH 1 before Karnal. Kenny and Ankit had been here before in a previous ride. We freshened up and ordered toasts and parathas for breakfast. With our tummies satiated for the time being, we readied ourselves to hit the road again. I was made the munim ji aka the accountant for the trip.
We made good riding on towards the cut for Yamunanagar and hit the town after transgressing some really aresholes of tractor drivers. Yamunanagar was equally bad. Reminded me of riding through Kerala. At one point I was tired of being the nice guy on the road and downshifted to the 2nd cog and ripped the hooligan in Supertramp open! With the KTM howl and growl at 9000 rpm I made way, replacing the horn with engine notes. And boy, was that effective!
Yamunanagar is confusing. At least to me. The exit to proceed towards Paonta Sahib seemed to take forever. Kenny, for a change, provided excellent navigation out of Yamunanagar. The roads seemed to be changing for the better after we exited Yamunanagar and we were brisking towards the hills, which start at Paonta Sahib. We were in forest reserve area now and that made Supertramp lunge ahead in all eagerness.
Some 20 km later, we arrived at Kalesar checkpoint where Kenny and Ankit splurged on some chilled beer at a roadside theka. At 9 AM. I settled in for a orange Mirinda to complement the full orange machine and riding gear on me.
The good thing about this trip was that the hills started immediately after Paonta Sahib. And true to its lineage, Supertramp started singing a different tune once abreast with cool mountain air. The revs came in more easily now and I had the chance to test the new shoe as well. Pretty sticky I must say. We had the good fortune of riding almost 2/3rds of the trip on the hills this time. Something that’s going to keep my lust for the hills subdued for a while.
The route did manage to throw in some uncertainties as well. Mori- Sankri, not well known, did not come up too well on Google maps. So stops for directions on the way were aplenty. Also since Sankri was the last stop for us, most people did not provide us a clear direction. Instead, we resorted to asking them the directions for the subsequent town/village. Another surprise that Google maps threw at us was the inaccurate distance from Delhi to the destination. More on that later.
I don’t remember where we stopped for lunch, but around 1300 hours we stopped at a place 40 km from the village where we take the leftie towards Purola and onwards to Sankri. The roads were mostly decent, even after the monsoons. There were patches where we encountered landslides as well. We also came across the road which leads to Chakrata, a place where Kenny had been before in another ride. That’s the thing of these rides, you come across so many unknown places that are off the map that you don’t remember the names but the ride. Kenny might be able to remember more, since he has done this circuit more than me. Also, I came across a particularly enthusiastic RTR 200 ride who was decidedly hell bent on showing who's the boss. Well, at the risk of sounding like a prick, Supertramp did show him that Supertramp is in its elements on the hills and its best not to poke around too much then!!
As we traversed the distances, sometimes zippy, sometimes not so much, we encountered surprises. When we stopped for petrol at the lone petrol station at Purola, I was shocked to find that Mori was another 25 km from Purola and Sankri would be another "8-10"km from thereon. Not to be deterred, we soldiered on. It was past 1600 hours now, and I was not too keen on riding in the dark. The ride from Purola to Mori was an absolute hoot though! The crisp, cool mountain air, coupled with an equally smooth tarmac made mile munching so much fun. Supertramp absolutely made mincemeat of that section, stopping only at the forest check gate at Mori. It appeared that the road to Sankri from Mori passed through what is called the Govind Wildlife Sanctuary and National Park. I will never forget that bit of ride in my entire life.
After taking the appropriate permits from the check gate, we hopped on again. The road was seemingly well the first kilometer, but after that all that kept running through my mind was Chris Rea's "Road to Hell". That section to Sankri is pure freaking crap of something that localites called roads. I have seen better Bullock cart tracks. Matters were made worse by the fact that I knew I was abusing the brand new Michelin no end and the hard suspension of Supertramp meant I had to crawl in 1st or second at best. I didn’t try the relatively smooth grassy section to the left of the road for a very compelling reason – the steep unguarded dive to the valley below and the dusk that was settling in now.
We switched on our headlights, praying that we don’t come across forks on the road like the numerous ones earlier in the day and we didn’t know which one to take. Well, Sankri didn’t disappoint us now either. We came across one more fork, unmarked, and we had no idea which one to take. Kenny suggested we keep riding upwards. I was in no mood for adventuring out in the dark on this utter crap-track. Ankit chimed in with me; So we waited. Fortunately, a local taxi came trundling by and showed us the way to Sankri. Kenny was right, we had to keep riding up. What I absolutely hated the were the milestones that cropped up after every freaking 10 mins or so to show us that we had covered only a kilometer.
Curses under my breath and some immense loathing for the road later, we just about screeched into the now-about-to-pack-for-the-night Sankri. We had booked a room at the SwargaRohini Hotel, which seemed to be relatively new and was already packed with trekkers. Sankri, we found out, is the base for a lot of treks in the region – some lasting upto 40 days. Another surprise that Sankri threw at us was that there's no cellular network there except for state run BSNL's. So, I was running amok immediately thereafter looking for a way to communicate with family back home, to tell them I had arrived safely, albeit a bit late. Google maps was off by about 40 km I reckon and the last 20 km to Sankri was absolute hell.
The guy at the reception provided me relief by letting me use his phone. I found out later, he was helping out other people in the hotel the same way. But BSNL being BSNL, the line hardly went through and I resorted to sending a message instead. Sometime later Mitali called back on the number and the guy brought the phone to our room to let me have a conversation. I still thank him for easing out on my anxiety that evening.
We ordered snacks for the evening and the hotel guys got them outsourced from an Aunty's shop across the street. Manna for the evening was some scotch that we had packed in for the trip. We made good conversation on the trips and some random licks. Hunger made the food taste delicious. Well, to be honest, the food was simple and delicious. Tired as we were, we did not waste too much time in packing in. The chilly night made blankets a necessity and somehow the bed seemed cozily inviting. It was lights out for me in no time.
Day 2
Day 2 will be remembered as the mother of all lies! Or when a 3 km hikes magically transforms into a 6 km one. I think all the sign boards denoting distances were painted by someone who was literally high on dope (Sankri is weed county!)
Post breakfast, we asked about for places to roam around so that we could have a small hike and come back by lunchtime. We all decided that We would not stay at Sankri for the second night and would move towards Purola or farther when we were back from the hike. We wanted to get back to better roads and network connectivity ASAP. I somehow pressed harder since it was getting immensely difficult for me not to be in touch with the kiddo.
We found out that the shortest hike is to the Juda lake, a supposedly 2 hour hike one way. All sign boards read "Juda Lake – 3 km" and we had no reason to suspect otherwise. We hired a guide for 500 bucks and off we went! The 3 km signpost re-assured us. Sankri, it turns out, is the vantage point for a lot of treks and there were a lot of trekking groups that were coming in and out of that small hamlet.
At the onset we came across a 'farmhouse' of Mr Aggarwal, who had built up a huge place right on the hillside. Some minutes into the trek made me realize that I need to hit the gym soon, or at least start with the swimming again. We were hardly into the first 750 metres uphill when the guide started giving indications that Juda lake might not be 'just' 3 Km away. When vague answers like 'we'll be there in another 2 hours' and then 'we'll be there in another 2 hours' started coming in at intervals of half hours, we poked the guide more and asked how much would we really take for us to reach the lake. It was then that he started revealing to us that Juda lake is at least 6 km from Sankri and the signposts are to really fool lazybones like us into taking a hike. We still soldiered on and through some very dense foliage, we came across a clearing. There were bulls and cows grazing in that clearing. The guide told us we had come half way. And this was after a 2 hour hike. We called off the rest of the hike and decided we would return to base after rest in the meadow like clearing.
A few shoots and poses later, we started on the return leg. It was past noon and the sky was turning gloomy and we upped our pace. Soon we heard thunderstorms and there was a slight drizzle. We made haste but then there's no escaping mother nature. Before we could hit ground zero, the drizzle turned into a full fledged downpour. We took shelter under some conifers but we could not escape the soaking rain fully.
When the rains let up momentarily, we wasted no time in hurrying down, a process made more difficult by the running water and the-now slippery ground. But whatever window of opportunity we had to scale down the hill, we made good use of it. Soon, we were on 'even' ground and headed towards the hotel. We had already checked out but had kept out luggage in the reception area.
We headed towards Aunty's shack for some rice and egg curry, which took a while to be served. Post lunch, we hurried to ready our steeds and proceed as far away as possible from Sankri and possibly towards a network-available town. We were just about tackling the horrible road once again, when it started drizzling again. I just had my riding jacket on and no rainsuit to protect me from the rain. Kenny and Ankit donned on their rainsuits, while my best bet was to beat the rain with sheer speed.
It was growing gloomy and dark and the rain drops were growing larger by the minute. Not an ideal combo when you are riding on hills without any protection against the elements. I gunned Supertramp and make mincemeat out of the winding roads as safely as I could manage. But by the time my headlights were on, it was raining almost torrentially! I slowed down, but still kept a heady pace. There were sections of slush on the road, small rivulets had formed by now, and the constant peltering against my helmet visor meant my average speed took a beating. But then, somehow my resolve to get to Purola kept getting stronger and I rode on relentlessly. Kenny and Ankit were nowhere to be seen. I stopped for 10 mins. Still no sign of them. So I went on, kept riding till I saw the weak lights of a town ahead. Must be Purola, I thought to myself. It was. I stopped at a turn for the guys to catch up and then called up family to let them know I was safe and on my way back. It was a good 15 mins till Kenny and Ankit showed up and we went about looking for a place to stay. After looking at a couple of options, we decided to stay at a cheap motel. It'd do. Especially after the beating we took this evening.
Since I had a deadline to meet the next day, I wanted to hit the bed early. Dinner came in the form of mutton thalis from an adjoining dhaba. The thalis were damn good. Atleast I enjoyed every little bit of it. Probably it was the tiredness, probably the cold, probably the hunger. But whatever it was, it worked to whip up a good appetite that evening!
Day 3
The third day was the maddest rush of my life. I had wanted to ride off early, but Kenny and Ankit wanted me to accompany them on the ride till it ended. So we came to a compromise – we would start at 9 AM, 2 hours later than I had intended and 2 hours earlier than the guys had wanted to. The dash towards Paonta Sahib made us realise that the maximum stretch of this trip was on the hills. Some stretches were flattering, some not. But the want to ride on the hills was to be subdued for a while now.
Some distance before Yamunanagar, we stopped for lunch. But not before ripping Supertramp to all its glory at the forest reserve section before Kalsi. I was seeing 140-150 kmph on the speedo whenever I glanced at it. Might have scared off quite a few monkeys, I guess!
I took leave of the guys at the dhaba, rushing through my meal. I took directions from Kenny on crossing Yamunanagar, but I guess it fell on partially deaf ears. Smack in the middle of Yamunanagar, I got lost. I asked for directions a couple of times till I found the familiar route back to NH1.
After I touched NH1, it was a story of letting Supertramp run at 120 kmph all the way to Delhi, minus some slowdowns at traffic intersections. I made it to Kashmere Gate in good time, around 1600 Hours. But then it started raining and all hell broke loose in Noida. I took a good 2 hours to make my way out of the traffic to reach home – something that is doable in an hour on a bike.
The irony of the dash was that the conference I was supposed to join in got cancelled. Well, I couldn’t do anything about it except thank Supertramp for getting me home in one piece. I was wet, dirty, gritty, filthy....and yet there was this contentment. Something that I keep looking for every now and then. To my mind, these trips are relaxants and antidepressants that calm the biker and traveler in me. A satiated sigh emanates as I drop down to sleep this night.
I let go of this now, in hopes of another outing with my Supertramp soon.
