In the previous post, I related little insights on my journey from Kolhapur to Pune. It was a disappointing day, and the excessive heat made things worse. But if I was bothered by the heat during my Day 2 ride, I had absolutely no idea what was in store for me as I advanced north – crossing Gujarat and Rajasthan before reaching Delhi in the first leg of my long and trying journey. But first, my account of the Day 3 journey – Pune to Surat.
In spite of my previous day’s experience, I woke up later than intended and rushed off to saddle my bike at the earliest. However, by the time I started, the coolness of the day had worn off. A strong Sun glowed overhead; a bleak breeze blew as if in protest against the rising heat.
The previous two days’ experience had given me enough resilience to the heat and unruly traffic. And I expected the worse in both respects. I guess, expecting the worst helped me sail through without feeling much pain. I crossed the busy Lonavala and picturesque Khandala with no sweat. The old highway merged with the Expressway for a brief period, throwing me back to the old roads at Khapoli. From there, the road was narrower, but without heavy traffic.
My nightmare started with entering Panvel. City traffic emerged from all corners to engulf me, slowing me down to an annoying pace. The frequent stopping at traffic signals, lane-switching cars and zigzagging two-wheelers tested my patience thoroughly. But like all nightmares, that too ended and I was once again on open roads, Enroute to Surat via Vapi.
To wash away the weariness of the day thus far, I stopped at a wayside McDonald and had a little meal. More than food, I was grateful for the cool interiors.
After about three-quarters of an hour at the McDonald, I resumed my tiresome journey – riding past busses, cars, two-wheelers, fields and buildings and foul-smelling, smoke billowing, factories and also past several lives and their unique life stories. After a few brief stops, I found my roadside sojourn for the night. The unimpressive hotel room with a bit of stale air about it was very different from the pictures on the MMT app. But I was too tired to protest, and skipping dinner, I fell in deep sleep minutes after hitting the bed.
The next day’s journey from Surat to Udaipur was not only the longest but also most punishing. No one in the right frame of mind would think of riding 500+ km through the arid regions in the peak of summer. Yet here I was, and how I got roasted in the Indian Summer Inferno…
Dear readers, till now you have read how I planned and embarked on a 6,000+ kms journey from Goa to Sangla Valley in Himachal Pradesh. In this account of my motorcycle journey from Goa to Delhi, which was the first leg of the trip, I have shared my experience of riding from my home in Benaulim, South Goa, to Kolhapur. This post relates the incidents of my second day of the journey; from Kolhapur to Pune.
Day 2 – Kolhapur to Pune
Having finished my ride well before evening the other day, I felt confident of covering more ground the next day. So, the evening before, I promised my friend in Mumbai to visit him the next day.
But God had other plans for me.
After a late start from Kolhapur, I got thoroughly muddled up in the route to reach Mumbai. Bikes are not allowed on the Mumbai-Pune Expressway, and the alternate routes shown by Google Maps were disconcerting. I followed the map for a while, only to arrive at a dirt road that took me in the middle of nowhere.
Spotted enroute to Pune. Some Dino fan!
Riding back and forth for about an hour, I decided to go along NH 8, at least till Pune. Things however, started to go mad as I neared Satara. People, especially on two-wheelers and Bolero taxis, simply made an annoying scramble at junctions as they rode and drove from every direction, making the progress snail slow. The heat, on the other hand, was oppressive and it was hard to focus. Asking around shop owners on the roadside revealed that reaching Mumbai through the old highway was not Rocket Science, after all. I was getting unnecessarily confused. All I had to do was to follow the straight road ahead, and avoid taking the YRCEW (Express Way) entry points.
But it was already 5:00 pm when I reached the busy Pune outskirts, having travelled barely over 200 kms during the entire day. I made a wise decision of halting at Pune for the night. My friend, though a little crestfallen, understood the perils of trudging on to Mumbai just for an overnight stay.
The MakeMyTrip app, which I used all through the trip, helped me in booking a hotel in Hinjewadi – not far from the highway – in no time. Overall, Day 2 was disappointing in terms of distance covered and troubles taken.
After having a frugal dinner, I called it a night a bit early as I had to cover a great deal of distance. From Pune to Surat – crossing the super-clogged outskirts of the City Maximum.
An iridescent journey from the sun-kissed coasts of Goa to the snow-clad summits of Himachal Pradesh, traversing through the roads that string various cultures and people into one. Riding through 10 states, for 18 days, clocking 5,200+ Kms, the road trip atop a Royal Enfield Standard 500 will be cherished for years to come. More so because I also met the author who made me fall in love as much with the hills and mountains, rhododendrons and daisies, as the faceless ghosts and everything mystery; Ruskin Bond.
Like the journey, my account of the journey is bound to be long (but not tedious, promise!) hence, I would take the liberty of posting the narratives in brief sections.
Chitkul, Sangla Valley
A little preface
The biking trip that I had been planning for so long finally happened. I ordered a few essentials online, knee guards, saddle bags, oxygen cylinders (for safe travels at high altitude), mobile holder & charger – important for navigation, thanks to Google Maps; a webbed bungee cover, and maybe a few more items. Also, I bought emergency medicines and bandages, a Royal Enfield buff, and some other sundry items. Was I prepared to go on the trip? Well, not until I got my bike ready and raring to go! I own a Standard 500 (UCE), a sturdy steed that has given me unfaltering service and company in many rides, including a middle-of-the-night journey traversing through the thick and deep jungles of Wayanad, where wild elephants roam in great herds.
I took the bike to the service station and requested one of the mechanics to have a thorough inspection of the bike. The good mechanic announced that the chain set needed to be replaced, along with several bearings and the carburettor pipe. Also, I got the handle lock changed. There were several other minor changes to be made before the beast was ready to raid the Himalayas. I wasn’t too sure about the tyres, though. There were firm and clear grooves on both the tyres, but a sign of wearing off could also not be dismissed. I took advise from a few other riders and a mechanic, too. Everyone said that I didn’t need a change of tyres; and I took their advice. But I had second thoughts about my indecision, several thousand kilometers later.
The First Phase of Journey: Goa – Delhi (total distance – 2,030 Kms) | Riding Solo | Motorcycle Trip
Got to Delhi Route Taken:
Goa to Kolhapur (via Chorla Ghat) | Distance: 214 lms
Kolhapur to Pune (via NH 48) | Distance: 230 kms
Pune to Surat (via Old Mumbai-Pune Highway, Lonavala, Khandala, Vapi) | Distance: 417 kms
Surat to Udaipur (via Godhra to avoid Vadodara – Ahmedabad Expressway) | Distance: 496 kms
**Two-wheelers aren’t allowed on the Mumbai-Pune Expressway and Vadodara-Ahmedabad Expressway**
Rising heat, and a sense of ‘too much time at my hands,’ made me decide to keep the Day 1 of the trip lighter. I decided to ride only till Kolhapur on the first day. Starting leisurely, after a hearty breakfast, I trudged on towards my destination, Kolhapur. The day was quite hot and I could feel the ferocity of the Sun early in the day. Google suggested the route via Chorla Ghat to be the shortest. I followed it. Cruising on the smooth, well-marked Goan roads, I reached the foot of the mighty Sahyadri range in no time. Cruising at a comfortable pace, I climbed the Ghat road, appreciating the thick green foliage on either side of the road. The air was cooler and the Sun rays came filtering from the canopies of treetops. Why couldn’t every road be like this?
After taking in the magnificent view from the top of the Chorla Ghat, I continued towards Belgaum, the only major city between Goa and Kolhapur. Leaving Goa, I entered the Karnataka border – the difference in road condition is a reminder, should you miss the border entry – and noticed the sharp difference in the topography.
While Goa is all about swaying palms and thick coconut groves, the landscape now altered to show exposed land – brazen and bare. Big rocks studded in the ground. The flatland was now entirely treeless.
I thought of crossing Belgaum in a jiffy, however, the increased heat and the lack of water made me stop at an eatery on the side of the road. It was actually a hotel with a restaurant serving pretty decent food.
After filling my water canteen and hydration bag, I again plunged into the heat. The highway now was wider, and straight as an arrow. All I had to do was to sit tight and accelerate.
However, experience has taught me to be vigilant at all times and not to fall in the lull of a constant high speed, because an occasional two-wheeler is bound to come from the wrong side, a state roadways bus is certain to sneak up from behind, silently, or a tempo traveller will swerve dangerously in your direction.
I did meet two-wheelers approaching from the wrong side, and the buses did creep up behind me, but none was fatal because I was alert and ready.
I thought that reaching Kolhapur would be a cake. And although I reached there before the clock struck 3:00 pm, I was well-roasted under the fierce mid-afternoon sun.
Relieved to be in the hotel, I took a cold shower and felt human again. I had planned to look for the best places to eat in each city I arrived, and I tried this with my first sojourn at Kolhapur. An episode of Highway on My Plate mentioned Shyam Vada Centre and Bhau Bhelpuri as must places to taste the street food of the city. So, off I went searching for these two food destinations. But as luck would have it, Shyam Vada Centre was shut that day, and after going around in rings – and walking close to 4 kms – I could only reach an unappealing franchise of Raja Bhau Bhelpuri. No patrons, no meeting with the charismatic man. Yet, I helped myself with something of a novelty; the ‘masala cone.’
Masala Cone from Kolhapur
Exhausted by the walk and unnecessary milling about, I returned to the hotel and ordered food from Swiggy. The meal may have tasted better in the famous restaurant from where I had ordered, but I was way too tired to venture out.
My resolution to visit all the famous food destinations throughout my journey was out of the window, the very first day!
This account of my solo ride to Munsiyari is a bit old and was featured elsewhere. The year was 2012, a year before I rode to Leh. My ride was a Silver Elecrta, which is now customized to a Maroon beast that shakes the heavens each time its engine comes to life. The bike belongs to my brother. Although the narrative is a bit old, the experiences I had are still fresh as the crisp snow that caps the mountain peaks in Munsiyari. Read on, and do share your experiences of a long solo ride…
A Soul Searching Road Trip to Munsiyari
Riding solo in the mountains was not something that possessed me overnight. I often dreamt about riding my bull on long, deserted stretches that Leh offered, in addition to mesmerizing backdrop of neat, light brown peaks that team well with the perfect blues of the heavens.
But as luck would have it, I could never plan out a schedule to fit the long journey to Leh.
While catching up with an old friend, who hails from Ranikhet, I got to know about Munsiyari, which lies in the Pitthoragarh district and is very near to the Indian border to China and Nepal. While talking to him, I searched images of Munsiyari, and was instantly sold to the idea of riding to the place.
So at 3:30 am on a June morning, I kicked off to the distant destination of Munsiyari. The weather was unexpectedly cool and the night-sky was lit by a very bright moon that gallantly fought with large, grey patches of clouds.
I had not planned any stopovers, nor calculated the distance I would need to cover in a day’s time. I simply wanted to unwind and did not want to pressurise myself to reach a pre-scheduled destination. This might sound crazy for many regular travellers (it was the first for me too), but it worked perfectly fine for me.
My decision to start early paid off, as I crossed Brijghat (infamous for being host to nasty traffic jams) while it was still dark. I stopped at McDonald’s for an early breakfast, and thumped on non-stop to Haldwani, where I took a very brief halt.
But by the time I negotiated the horrific traffic at Haldwani, the stifling heat and fatigue (from lack of sleep from previous 2 nights) made it difficult for me to ride on.
Remembering my friend’s advice, I promptly halted at Monu’s ‘Om Namah Shivay’ cafe, which serves great maggi noodles and black tea. For the convenience of the readers, this cafe is located just before the first bridge that one encounters after taking a right-turn from Kathgodam for Bhowali. I later found out that a better place to have noodles and black tea is near by – for that, you need to take a left, instead of right towards the bridge.
While Monu exercised his culinary prowess, I stole a power nap. The maggi tasted excellent, which I washed down with a chilled coke, instead of the highly-recommended black tea, for it was too hot to try anything steaming hot.
Refreshed from the meal and the quick nap, I rode on, crossing Bhimtaal, and Kainchi Dham alongside the tributary of river Kosi. The rest of the journey was uneventful, except for the fact that my riding gear drew much attention. On several occasions, people asked me questions such as ‘yeh lohe ka hai kya?’ (Is it made of iron?), and ‘yeh bike ke saath milta hai?’ (Does the gear come with the bike?)
Though I could average out a speed of only 35 kmph on the road to Almora, I didn’t complain. Considering the fact that I drove on the valley side, which had no fencing, the speed appeared to be quite decent, and safe.
After getting past lots of turns and bends, I reached Almora. The pretty blue-white ‘Akashvani’ building greeted me, whose charm I acknowledged and moved on to the mall road to find a decent hotel. I checked in a hotel by the name of ‘Hotel Shikhar,’ which was a decent abode that offered a secured parking.
After driving close to 400 kms on day 1, I was ready to hit the sack for a long relaxing sleep. And I stuck to my plan.
I overslept and woke up groggily at about 11:00 am the next day. However, soon after having a refreshing cup of tea, I gathered my wits and got ready in no time.
After a frugal breakfast, I continued my journey with a plan to visit Patal Bhuvaneshwar (PB), which is about 107 kms from Almora, and spend the night at Chaukori, a lovely hill station some 30 odd kms away from PB .
I was surprised to know the variation in people’s estimate about the distance between Almora and PB, and Beri Nag. Hence I conferred a group of soldiers who guided me perfectly. They bade me to take the following route:
Almora – Chetai (Golu Dev Temple) – Badi Cheena – Dhaula Cheena – Seraghat – Rai Agar – Patal Bhuvaneshwar/ Beri Nag / Chaukori.
However, by the time I reached Rai Agar, it was about 4:30 pm (from there PB is another 20 kms of hill ride), and I learnt that the entry to the temple would get closed by 5:00 pm. Hence, I decided to check in the Kumaon Vikas Mandal Nigam (KVMN) guest house for the night, visit the shrine early morning and ride on to Munsiyari.
The KVMN guest house was located at a distance of less than 300 meters from the famous temple of Patal Bhuvaneshwar. It also offered a great view, but due to the annual forest fire, a dull mist made up of smoke made it impossible to see anything.
The service at KVMN was very warm, and the caretaker Mr. Jalan’s hospitality was commendable.
During the day, I realized that there had been an acute shortage of petrol in entire Uttrakhand, especially at places in higher altitudes. At Rai Agar, a shopkeeper confided that if I needed petrol then he can sell it to me at a price of INR 150 per liter.
This sounded incredulously expensive, but I wondered that the fuel-starved locals would not hesitate in buying such expensive fuel when they are left with no other option. It was clearly a black-marketer’s day.
I had enough petrol to reach Munsiyari and now I was equipped with the knowledge that I don’t need to hunt a petrol pump if I run low on fuel. I just had to locate a grocery store that sold fuel in Pepsi bottles at INR 150 a liter.
I was lucky that throughout my trip I got petrol from genuine sources, i.e., petrol pumps, and faced no difficulty on that account.
Unlike the previous day, I woke up afresh at about 7:30 am and was ready to explore the temple among the first set of pilgrims. A charming man, whose age cannot be determined by looking at him, greeted me and noted my personal details. He kept my phone safely, as it had an in-built camera, and assigned a guide to me. He instructed me to pay the guide and for the temple trust as per my wish.
I followed my middle-aged guide Mr. Bhandari to the low entrance of the shrine, typical to small temples in India. However, I was utterly surprised to see that the entrance leads to a steep rocky slope towards the belly of the earth, and my guide was already half-way down and now looking up to me expectantly.
Cave Entrance to Patal Bhuvaneshwar.
In my wildest dreams I had no such notion of the cave temple. This was different. I am not claustrophobic, nor I have acrophobia, but sitting at the entrance of the cave and staring at the bottomless, rocky ramp I admit that I was not feeling entirely brave.
Only because I had spent a day of riding to visit this shrine, and because I had heard so much about the place, I decided to venture inside the cave. I drew a deep breath and slowly made my way down the cave with the help of iron chains that are planted for the convenience of the pilgrims.
As I started moving downwards, I felt stronger and agile than I had felt in days. The narrow passageway opened in a rather roomier chamber, which was dimly lit with CFL bulbs, and harboured cold and wet air.
My limited knowledge about the Vedas and Puranas saved my guide many questions and references, which a thorough Hindu would have undoubtedly asked him. The references attached to the figurines in the cave are plenty, and so are the coincidences of stalactites and stalagmites appearing as divine creatures.
All in all, it was a ‘must-have’ experience for anyone travelling to these parts of India.
After this awesome experience and a quick breakfast, I kicked off to my ultimate destination, Munsiyari.
I reached Thal by 2:00 p.m., and stopped for fuel. Then I moved on, crossing Nachni, and Kwiti in a hot, stuffy weather. Things however changed when I reached Girgaon. A sudden downpour chilled the air and lifted my mood. I stopped to pull out my rain gear, soaked in the marvellous beauty of the place and trudged on.
The drive between Girgaon – Ratapani – Munsiyari is a rider’s dream. The landscape has wide, lush green slopes dotted with cattle and a few stone houses with slanting thatched roofs. No words or pictures could contain the beauty of the place.
On reaching Munsiyari, the first thing I noticed is the ominous presence of snow-clad peaks. I was lucky to get a room in the KVMN guest house, which offers a great view of the peaks.
While I ordered tea, I got a call from an unknown number. I ignored the call couple of times, but grudgingly picked up the third time it rang. I was in for a shock. While taking out my rain gear, I accidently dropped my wallet (needless to say it carried all the money and my licence/cards), which was picked up by a party of good men. I recovered my wallet in less than 15 minutes (which I dropped at least 6 kms away from Munsiyari.) I profusely thanked the party, and my stars, too.
The next morning I lazed around, gazed at the peaks at length, and drove to Darkot, which is a small town some 7 kms away.
I met a genial gentleman at the KVMN who advised me not to take the Pitthoragarh, Tanakpur route as the roads were bad.
This was a valuable piece of advice, and I followed it without regrets. At noon I packed up and said good-bye to Munsiyari. It was only logical to drive till Chaukori the same day to avoid driving in the night. But I had other plans. I had the target of reaching Almora the same day, even if it meant a few hours of driving without the sun.
I rode hard, for my chosen destination was far away. While I was crossing Kwiti, a heavy downpour drenched me. At one point in time, two large stones dropped besides me, which urged me to ride away from the mountain side as much as I could help. By the time I reached Nachni, there was no trace of rain.
I stopped at Thal for a fuel top up and resumed my journey forward. I didn’t take any elaborate break, which helped me in crossing Seraghat, while the sun was still up.
Somewhere between Seraghat and Badi Cheena the forest was engulfed into semi-darkness, which created spooky effects for an imaginative mind.
I reached Almora by 9:00 pm, wet, tired and hungry. The next unexpected thing to happen was an acute shortage of rooms in Almora (it was a weekend.) After much jostling, I could manage a shady room in a hotel in the main market, above the mall road.
I paid less heed to my surroundings and hit the sack after a hearty meal. The next day I drove off at about 10:00 am, and after a long ride (about 400 kms) in scorching sun, and maddening traffic I reached Delhi by 9:30 pm.
Even after five years, the ride to Munsiyari is fresh in my mind. I found the ride to Munsiyari quite exhilarating. The landscape of Munsiyari is enchanting and is worth your time and efforts. If you haven’t already, I would suggest that you must drive / ride to this beautiful hill station – also called little Kashmir, and do pay a visit to the Patal Bhuvaneshwar temple.
If you are riding to Munsiyari, go with proper gear – riding jacket, knee guards or riding pants, a sturdy helmet with scratch-free visors, and yes, don’t forget to get rainproof covers for your luggage.
In the previous post, I related little insights on my journey from Kolhapur to Pune. It was a disappointing day, and the excessive heat made things worse. But if I was bothered by the heat during my Day 2 ride, I had absolutely no idea what was in store for me as I advanced north – crossing Gujarat and Rajasthan before reaching Delhi in the first leg of my long and trying journey. But first, my account of the Day 3 journey – Pune to Surat.
Vroom Tales: Solo Riding Experiences 