A long bike-travel is something no one appreciates except the ones who travel. Sometime during my college days, when my cousin and I decided to go to our friend’s place in Cuddalore (30km from Pondicherry), I don’t think anyone appreciated – the family, friends, girlfriends – no one. There were words of caution from everyone, which was useful but no one said ‘Go on. Enjoy. Have fun’. We were warned of the speeding heavy vehicles, crossing cattle, possible fatigue, checking brakes/petrol/air, having to call etc but hardly anyone said ‘you’ll love it’.

You drive a car and you ride a bike. To say that ‘I ride a bike or he rode a bike’ does not come naturally to me. So I might just use ride and drive interchangeably. So, wherever I say drive I mean taking control of the operation of the vehicle

I don’t even remember now what we had told our families about our biking to Cuddalore. Probably, I’d have told my parents that I’d only be a pillion rider and my cousin would have said something in those lines at his place. My parents very reluctantly okayed the idea purely because they know I’ll somehow find my way. It wasn’t actually an ‘okay’ as such. It was more of ‘I advise you not to go. It’s upto you’. Of course we had got dozens of advices about this trip and we ignored some of them, including that of my parents. The fact that we were a bit careless about the plans and preparations made the trip all the more interesting. Execution as per the plan could give us satisfaction but not excitement. If we were so well planned and executed the plan so well, we may not have quite enjoyed the trip.

Both of us had Hero Honda Splendors but we had tuned them to our styles and methods. Since my cousin is a veteran of many bikes, we thought we’ll use my bike for the trip. We also took just one helmet as we thought that must be just enough. We started at 9 in the morning. To start a 200km bike trip on a March morning was not such a great idea. We agreed to swap the duties every half hour. I say duties because the pillion rider too has responsibilities as much as the rider. As a pillion rider, one needs to help the tilt and balance of the vehicle, put some sense into the rider whenever required, keep an eye on the things a rider may not normally have and such stuff. Naturally, both of us loved bike riding which meant neither stuck to the half hour limit.

Onward journey was all fine except one minor incident. It had to be when I was driving because he drives far better than me. In the ECR, you normally see all these road signs like ‘accident zone’, ‘dangerous curve’ and all that. I had negotiated quite a number of ‘dangerous curves’ only to realise they weren’t so dangerous at all. Then came the next one. I under-estimated that one. Because, my estimate was based literally on the ‘track record’. I was driving at 90km/hour and my cousin too failed in his duties as a pillion rider. I just realised that I was going straight at 90km/hour while the road is curving sharply. Some terrific presence of mind with some lightning quick hand-eye co-ordination averted a big danger. The bike skid outside the road a bit and both of us had controlled the bike with a level head. Near miss.

We reached Cuddalore via Pondicherry. Spent a night at my friends place. The next day we started at 2pm so that we don’t have to do night driving. Anything after 6pm is night driving because of no or poor street lights. We thought we could be in Chennai by 5 pm. At about 4 pm, the bike started stuttering a bit. We stopped and checked the tyres, they were fine. I just casually looked at the petrol indicator. Shock horror. Almost zero petrol. We didn’t know if the stuttering was because of the petrol but that was an unbelievable shock. We had no idea how far the bike can go. There were no petrol pumps in sight. Upon checking we were told there is one 20km forward and 15km backward and such stuff. Nothing was nearby and we ran a risk of pushing the bike for an unknown distance. I’d have agreed for half hour shifts with the first shift starting with my cousin.

The light was fading fast. We were stranded. Signals to stop the cars did not work. Now I know why they didn’t work. I don’t stop the car when a stranger signals in a deserted place. We had to think fast. Time was running out. We thought of taking the risk of using up whatever little petrol left in search of more petrol. We found out that the nearest town is Kalpakkam which was a 15 kms away or something. We went on. We had our action points clear. No over use of the clutch or gears. Maintain consistent speed. And hope. Hope that the bike lasts until Kalpakkam or near any other signs of life.

We reached Kalpakkam finally. It was a beautifully built township. It reminded me of Neyveli. The township exists all because of the Kalpakkam atomic power plant. I could see that it was a modern town. It had nice roads cutting in right angles, no high rise buildings and plenty of green too. We started hunting for petrol in there. We were told that there is only one petrol pump that could be open that Sunday evening and even that one could be closing soon. It almost 6pm then, we had to rush. And ‘the’ petrol bunk was at the far end of the Kalpakkam town. Murphy’s law reminded. The bike started stuttering again. After tremendous efforts, we reached the far end of the town and the petrol pump was there. We did not want a sucker punch, we hoped they were open and they had petrol. Our oil exploration was successful.

By the time we returned to the ECR it was almost 7. We were a bit delayed because bugger had to smoke, we had to have some soft drinks. At 7 in the ECR, you’d see nothing. It almost pitch dark. No streetlights. All that guided us was our bike’s headlights and sometimes the reflectors on the road. Most of the distance, we didn’t know where the road ended. We had no clue if we were in the middle of our side of the road or at the cliff of the road. Because of this we had to drive at a slow speed, not more than 40 kms/hour. Every time a heavy vehicle whizzed past our tiny little bike we had to hold our hearts in our mouths. Every now and then, the high beamed headlights of the oncoming vehicles almost blinded us for a few seconds. We still had to change shifts. We took it as a serious responsibility and we truly had to trust each other, to be particular, he had to trust me which luckily he did.

We have always bitched about city traffic. At that point of time, the moment we entered the city, the city traffic was such a comfort. You felt like you’re in the mainstream. The air of security was back. Traffic jams, horns blaring everywhere, gestures and abuses – man, we’re back, we’re home! It’s a nice trip to recollect. Excitement bordering on a bit of danger. The key things were that we were prepared for the worst case scenario if we didn’t get the petrol and when we had drive in the dark, we were very determined of how to drive and how not to drive.

What am I trying to tell you with this post? Nothing. I just thought I’ll write about this today.