Cycling through the Western Ghats

First contributor: Hrishi

This is the story of four stupid people who decided to go on a cycling trip through the western ghats. It is told in the present tense in sometimes non-chronological order as a series of snippets of events reconstructed from fading memories and digital photos.

Technical details: The ride started from Kundapur and the first stage finished at Kollur including a detour to marwanthe beach. The second stage was from Kollur to Haladi which is about 15 km from Someshwara. Altogether spanning just about 100km!

Dec 7:

2:50 am: Pain!
We are still 20 km away! Twenty whole kilometres from Kollur. A,B and C are lying on the tarmac while i snigger away inwardly, with a concerned expression on my face. I look at the culprits, three racing bikes standing innocently by the roadside - without gears. I can feel the giggles welling up from within but control them. I debate whether i should offer my geared bike to one of them but decide to reserve the offer for worse times. B has opened his loaded rucksack and is pulling out the innards one by one. With each emerging article of dead weight, we can see how hopelessly we overloaded ourselves. Dilbert, screwdriver set, climbing harness...


12:15 am: detour to marwanthe beach
Its been a breezy three quarters of an hour. We have covered about six kilometres according to the milestones.

C and i wait for the other two to arrive. I look lovingly at my dynamo. That saviour of body and steed! Two luminous dots on the road precede the arrival of A and B. A suggests we continue on the highway towards marwanthe and i heartily back the proposition. It is a mere six kms away. The famed soft sands of marwanthe beckon us!

We get off the road onto the footpath at the bridge. The lights at the river make a beautiful sight twinkling in unison with their reflection. C clicks away on his camera as i stand wisely by, knowing how they never 'come'. An approaching truck dopplers by and we are shocked by the vibrations in the bridge. A vague memory of soldiers breaking step over a bridge strikes.

I lag behind the three and often the three are out of sight. But im cycling to a rhythm so am not unduly worried as i change gears to accommodate an approaching rise in the road.

We are at marwanthe. I am heartily cursing that cheat of a cycle mart owner as i look at the defunct dynamo. B and A's batteries have also given out. Prospects of cycling behind a single holder of the lamp are not at all inviting. B has gone to enquire about the route we have to take. I look uselessly in the direction of the source of the dull, roaring sound. But we cant see a single thing. So much for the sands of marwanthe! B is back. An argument over the route to follow ensues. I want to turn back because at least we are sure of the route to follow. We do turn back.

We are at the blessed signpost again. The road to Kollur looks really gloomy. It also slopes upwards dangerously. Ignoring the warning growls of dogs close by, we flop to the side of the road. A fivestar each is consumed and the fruit juice bottles are cracked. There is talk of turning back. I guess i forgot to mention that our last remaining lamp gave out in the here. We have to cycle the rest of the way in near total darkness. Laughing at our plight, i look up at the non-existent moon.

4:30 am?: B has just taken his third fall. I must say that i was partly responsible for this (i am not grinning!). Since that *** of a dynamo still had its rear light functioning, i was ahead and the others were following the light. Suddenly feeling the road sloping away to the right, i braked and jerked left which stopped the cycle and so blanked the light. Poor B following in my wake, went straight ahead and went off the road. The ghat roads have gutters on either side upto two feet deep, so i cant imagine it!
(B has written an account of his falls. I shall get them asap, along with other first hand accounts.)

6:00 am: we are standing (barely) amidst a curious group of people who wonder where we are from. Proudly we say surathkal, although we cycled only from kundapur. But i feel we can be forgiven this little inaccuracy after cycling nearly forty-five kms including that ill-advised detour. B just lets his cycle collpse between his legs much to the amusement of the general populace.

At sixty bucks a day we have no complaints. Stretching my tired limbs, i afford myself a last glance at the supine forms of A and B before i turn to my side and close my eyes.

2:00 pm: after a terrible lunch at the temple, we are all set to be off.
I hadn't anticipated a banquet after having had lunch here with amma, but we too hungry to really care. B's brakes were out and brake shoes were the one thing we hadn't carried! We actually carried a pump, puncture essentials, extra nuts and bolts but left behind brake shoes at the advice of one who shall remain anonymous. This was after a darshana at the shri mookambika temple. Amusing watching the pious faces all around. B came too which was surprising since he had stayed behind at the temple at yana.

We sail out under the welcoming arch which is such a common sight in dakshin kannada. The road is downhill all the way. Grimacing at the memory of pushing the cycles up the very same slopes speeding by the night before, i let go of my hands and lean back feeling the cool wind. The signposts facing us read the distance to kundapur heightening my sense of achievement.

80 km?? Agumbe is eighty freakin kilometres! I must say, although im quite and honestly ashamed of this, such moments of hopelessness do not have a depressing effect on me. This is simply because i get stark images of my intrepid friends gaping at the very same signpost!

4:00 pm: We are pushing our cycles up an impossible slope. However do those cars ever manage it! I look ruefully at the race bike in my hands. B was having some trouble on the slopes. So my iron heart finally cracked and i yielded. Anyway, his mac has been carefully wrapped around the seat so it is a little less oppressive on the behind, which i forgot to mention was quite raw. I had been warned about the cramps which sometimes set in after a long day's riding, but the most uncomfortable part of the whole affair was the pain in the ass! My god, when the bones begin to ache there is no looking back!

On our cycles again. With grim determination we ride on, seeking to erase the picture of those jeering motorcyclists who happened to catch us with our pants down - pushing the cycles that is. I hear a bus moving up behind me. I edge closer. I simply hate this manouvere. Slight misjudgment takes you onto the gravel which gives the tender behind such a pounding, you have to cycle 50 km to know! Anyway i move over and something hits me on the head. Twisting in my seat, i can see the bus boy waving at me. My anger changes to slow realization when i recognize the bus as the same one which dropped us to kundapur on the night of the sixth. I wave back.

Its all winding roads and huge down slopes. The new brake shoes i got put on B's cycle give me enough confidence to take them full tilt. We are all widely spaced out. I concentrate on keeping the rhythm going. I try and think of something but it is impossible to keep your mind on a single thread of thought when you are cycling. You might want to try that some time! I dont think about the aching limbs at all, That is when the tiredness really sets in. So there is a wonderful sort of clearness in the mind, where there is not a single thought in your head. That is of course until the thought that there isn't a single thought in the head hits home. Milestones whizz by and i cant help but look at them, although i wouldn't like to remember this ride as one that i spent counting down the distance to be covered.

6:00 pm: After many conflicting reports, we finally established that someshwara is reached before agumbe on the route that we are on, which is quite a relief since it saves us the impossible task of riding up the infamous 13 hairpins. The next point en route is haladi.

8:00 pm: I wipe a satisfied hand across my mouth. That benne masala dosa was excellent. There is even hutch connectivity here. Good ole haladi! Setting up my traveling bag ostentatiously, i look around smugly taking in the curious stares at me and my cycle. But there are mostly truckers there, so i feel quite stupid. We have only covered a hundred..(wow!). I find out that it is only fifteen or so km to someshwara where our benevolent host mr.bhakta awaits us.

Thus terminated our cycle ride, somewhat prematurely as we took an auto to transport selves and cycles to someshwara. But as we stood at the back of the auto crammed in, speeding through the naxal inhabited forests, the cold december wind hitting us, i for one could only smile. Nooooo, that was one of our carrymates outa the auto!!Stoppppp!