The mother of all road trips needed the father of all headlines, so: This is for you 1mrankhan.

"Bad days in office means good trips" - an unknown saying from 3rd Century B.C saint Fobucious

I would be lying if i said that i did not feel scared or nervous before undertaking a trip of this magnitude. But am not lying, am actually sitting upright and thinking i should finally get over the geek thingy and get myself a laptop. Anyways, this trip has been on card for quite some time, it was supposed to be done a lil earlier but it did not work out, though i have been pretty regular to the gym. Finally, both me and Nannu applied for off for the first two weeks of August. Which, true to our tradition of being fuck all planners, was again pushed by one week.

I kept fearing that something will happen that will not make this trip happen, firstly it was generally my superstition that am jinxed for things that i really want to do, secondly it was Nannu. Anyways liek a guy gobsmacked by consumerism, i started shopping for, first and foremost, the stuff that i thought was cool, and then for stuff that i won't survive without. Actually the stuff that i would die without was bought 2 days before the trip.

Also, i feared that i might not make it back, no, not even in multiple pieces. That's why i met, most of the people i wanted to meet, or was not too angry with, before i went. This has never happened to me before, i have never thought that i will not come back, not even when i have left the house with the intention of not coming back. In fact i thought of writing a letter to everyone, just in case i couldn't come back. You know like die. Even headlines cracked up in my head "Saurabh Yadav is no more. He is a dog." In fact i really wanted to write a letter to mom dad to tell me that it is ok, in case i die i really love you and you didn't do that bad in raising me, it was all the fault of Internet. But then i knew if i did write it and they read it before i left, they will thwack me and make sure i didn't go anywhere.

Actually i am lying i was plain lazy to write to everyone. So that was that.

Anyways after much anxiety, Friday arrived, and like all Fridays it went past.

Saturday morning, bike loaded, cool helmet on the head, bye bye said, i was off.

Now for some time, till Naraina if i remember, i was really nervous. Wasn't doing much speed, still thinking i will crash and make a mockery of the trip. But as the miles passed, i became sure that even if i had to die, i can't crash and die at idiotic speed of 80. That was the end of anxiety. Full steam ahead then.

Much to my dismay, it wasn't exactly a blur till Ambala - my first stop. Even when i was doing hundred and twenty on the speedo, it didn't seem like Phelps in the Speedo. The trouble is, it's a straight fucking road, so the only kicks you get is by chasing cars. Cars driven by people who think they can drive in F1. This went on for some time and before i realized i was in Ambala. No wonder i love chases. And kids loved me. They couldn't believe a guy on a bike is going faster than their dad in the car. What a grin it brought to my face. And a little more purpose to the race.

Since i haven't had anything to eat in the morning i was starving, lunch was ordered, i had my fill, then i crashed and almost an hour later when i woke up Nannu was done packing. No, not the girl, she was coming, it was final now. 15 mins later the bikes' belly was also full and finally the trip was on.

*pinch*

It was indeed on. WOOOHOOOOOOO.

Somewhere in between, while taking a break, it was decided we will stop at a place called Mandi. And that was because the girl knew someone there and Manali was really still some curves away. By the way the road from Ambala to Ropar was good, but with construction work going on there were diversion and since the traffic was a little too much it meant too much concentration on road, which meant not much looking at the scenery. But me being me, i did manage to look around at the greenery, actually it wasn't green it was a dream, except that road was like something real in a surreal fairy tale setting. And there were plenty of canals and i have always been fascinated and scared of canals. Ever since i was a kid and used to go to Punjab to meet Maasi with mom. And there were plenty of them canals here, since Ropar is very close to the site of Bhakra-Nangal water works. The fast flowing blue water just gets you and me, and yet i can't help but think what will happen if i fall. Anyways a little later we were no longer on the plains and that usually means we were on a different plane.

Also we spotted loads of surdy boys returning from somewhere in the hills and they looked like Kawarias on wheels. They were as astonished to see us as we were to see them. Actually most of the stun work was done by Nannu's R15. People in those parts might have seen R15 but they were totally in shock to see saddle bag and a girl at the back. This amazement will continue to amaze the general populace till we reached back Ambala.

Till the time the roads allowed we rode as fast as we could, but still there was that zing missing that you feel as soon as you get the bike on curvy roads. This had to do with both the roads being not too good and we being slightly tired and dust covered by now. Mandi - like the girl who used to sit 3 rows ahead in the bus to college, even if the seat next to me was empty, was so near yet so far. The reason for the girl not sitting next to me were always unclear, lack of deo, idiotic looks or dozing off 10 mins after the bus started moving, at least the reason for not reaching Mandi till 9 o clock was pretty clear, bad roads. So was the reason for Nannu to almost give me a heart attack with that phone call. The boy ran into a mound of construction material left conveniently on the road, without any markers. Half-an-hour later we were back on the road, furiously wishing for Mandi to come. Around 9:30 Mandi said hello. By 11 we have had food, taken bath and crashed. This time on the bed.



Did i do "woohooo the trip is on" a few lines back?



That was a lie.



Wooohooo the trip is on. Biking trip that is.



“It is not the g forces that am afraid of, it is the ji forces.”- an average writer who never participated in any race, let alone win it.



It was a good morning then. The nice folks we stayed with in Mandi, told us we will do Manali in no time. But having tasted asphalt and bugs last night, i was not very sure about it. Luckily the only way to find out was to get on the bikes and zoom, so we saved money by not buying any pregnancy testing kit.


We should have.

And while we were at it we should have bought some contraceptives too.


Much has been written about the Mandi-Manali road; mostly by me. But still, what a fuck fest that road from Mandi to Manali is. There is a scene in The Departed where there is a cocaine induced sex romp by Jack Nicholson. I perfectly understand that now. Both the need and what pleasure he derives out of it. The adrenaline rush was not mere a rush now, it was an unstoppable mass of a comet hurtling towards mission control. The heart and the piston were now a cavalry on a rampage to avenge the death of their leader.


Those who know me, know well that i am a colossal failure when it comes to chasing girls. I don't know why. Because i really like chasing. You should have seen the chase that ensued when two boys on a bike overtook us, it was the second most 10 minutes of my life. The first being when i caught up with them, went ahead and then slowed to let them go again and chase again. It is just so all consuming to ride fast behind someone on a road which is just enough for two vehicles and which has a wall of stone on one side and a frigid river on the other side. Someone i know, knows why that word is there :p. It is not about proving to him that i can get ahead, it is proving to myself that i can brake later, i can take a better line, lean better and that i can use engine braking, knowing very well that what the risks are if anyone of these go wrong. If all of this stuff going in my head was not enough the ride was made all the more exciting by the fact that my bike was like calvin in the doctor's office for a shot. And everytime the bike showed signs, or even a single sign, of going out of control i could relate to Piyush Mishra saying "dhadkan jaisey chambal main ghoda bhaag sa gaya ho!"


The sights were pretty too. Am assuming they were, i dunno. I have never concentrated so hard on the road, never. Actually i did, but that place was still around 400 kms away and i did not enjoy there as much as i enjoyed on this road.


Finally we stopped for some food and we realized what a pretty place it was. River running along, wind blowing so hard you wish you were fit cause the t-shirt clings to you exposing your bulge. Anyways a heavy tummy and a few calls later we were back on the bikes. Crossing a dam later we were inside a tunnel, first time on a bike. We let it rip, only for me to realize a little later that i couldn't see a thing, only to realize a little later that i was wearing shades. Anyways we were out and i don't know why the cops did not stop us, because am sure we must have looked underage. At least in out heads we were 10 year olds at that moment.



Anyways some time later we were in Manali, after much research (read two hotels) we settled for the first hotel. Bags unpacked, helmets off and TV on. After much lazing around and waiting for someone to change the channel on the telly to something in english or hindi, it was decided to shut it and go out. Out we went.


Manali is like hill stations are, only it was not as crowded as Shimla is. Though am told that is cause of the time we went, it is like a sardine tin in peak season. Much roaming happened, there were shops selling everything under the sun, chinese sun that is. Some stuff was bought and then we went on to eat food and declare our innings.


The next day in Manali started pretty late, and when it started it started raining heavily. If this was how things will be i was pretty scared for not having had kids by now. Anyways the rain stopped so did that train. Then we went and got our bikes washed and lubricated, no that's not what i meant Anusheel. Then we went looking for some plastic cans for petrol and anything that we did not want, but was cool, and could fit in out bags. We dumped the loot and then on the suggestion of the girl - on whose petite soldiers the headline of this article can be blamed, we went for a rainbow. Yes a rainbow, at whose end we were promised a fabulous pizza. All we found were new expletives. After walking for 4-5 kms we decided to turn our backs and see if we could find and kill a budding lawyer. She was nowhere to be found, but we did manage to finish some pasta and salmon off the plate. After a nice warm bath i crashed avoiding thoughts of any crash in the next few days. I do remember crashing in my dreams and that someone was taking away the cloth off my corpse, i woke up to find out Nannu taking all the quilt, one thwack later it was back to wet dreams again.


"Hell is nothing but a road to heaven under repair." The quote that no one wore at Border Road Organization.


A little bit of research that i had done, clearly suggested Manali was piece of cake compared to what lay ahead. But still we were romancing with the idea that how bad could it be. And aiding that romance were the roads till like 30 Kms before Rohtang. Which seemed to go well with the scenery around. Which was absolutely cheap. Cheap, for a bollywood producer. I couldn't understand why does bollywood has this fixation with the Alps. No, really why?. I am sure that this place looked as beautiful as the west. Bollywood producer or not, this place for sure is visited by tons of visitors. For sure because the road from Manali to Rohtang is lined with shops. Good for us though there was not much traffic. Anyways the closer we got to Rohtang the closer we got to reality. It was evident our bums would have to be sacrificed on the altars of the saddle for this trip. Luckily though as we got closer it got really cold, so cold that our bums became numb and we lost them. On reaching Rohtang top we wrapped ourselves even more tightly in head gear. Today's night halt was still moons away. The roads were like my soothing words when i fight against servicing. Anyways we kept on riding at around 40 kph, which mind you was around 20 kph more than safe speed limit. After what seemed like ages we found a decent strip of tarmac. Actually it was an awesome piece of tarmac. The roads here were like relationships, awesome when it goes all right, gut crushing when it went bad. And just like relationships it followed a sine curve. And ilike curves.


I realized we were bikers. Not because we were doing this trip but because 40 kms of bad stretches were forgotten with 5 Kms of good one. No matter how bad the roads were, how much dust and diesel fumes we inhaled, one good stretch and we were all refreshed. The only other thing that gives me such pleasure is writing. One good piece and am all ready to fuck the world with my hands tied. The only thing that needs to be done is now to combine these things together. No, that does not mean writing while riding the bike.



Finally at the crack of dusk we reached the last petrol pump before Leh. The place was called Tandi. Tanking up the tanks and the gangajal bottles we were carrying, we set off for Jispa. This night's halt. Leh was still 266 Light years away. The road got worse now. Much worse than a bong's sense of dressing. Even worse than their ideology. We would have stopped had there been a place to stop. We were counting kilometeres. Finally even the sun gave up on us. And that meant from porn this has turned into a BDSM fetish. I can't explain how bad it was. No road, no lights, no scope and Jispa still around 30 kms away. But the sky, the sky was brilliantly beautiful. Prettier than Chitrangada. Prettier than a Ferrari 250 GTO. Ohkay that, is a lie. A million fucking stars shinning on the stars below. Milky way or that way it was site i had not seen, ever. It felt like i was the centre of the universe, with all those stars looking at me for some inspiration. Though, like all sadistic porn sites, this too had an abrupt end. We were redirected to another site. Actually the guy at the tent site told us about a hotel a little further up and we imagined hot water and went ahead.


The only thing i remember of the night at Jispa was my blood shot red eyes. They have not seen so much fuck in 4 years of broadband. It was time for a shutdown.


We woke up in the morning to such a bright day that if we wore white you could have mistaken us for angels. We were at high altitude now. And today's aim was another 100 odd Kilometers. We thought it would not be a problem. And it was not. The roads we were used to by now. But what has changed was the scenery. The mountains were barren, the light harsh and air colder. The scenery and the mountains changed every 30-40 odd kilometers. You could see snow just next to the road. And sometimes a road next to the snow. We reached our second pass, Baralachla. The most beautiful pass on this whole trip. It was like an expressway through heaven. It came and went like an empty Haryana Roadways bus to Gurgaon at Dhaula Kuan. That left enough rift between my lower and upper jaw that you could fit a divorce lawyer in. we stopped, took helmets off, took photographs and finally before putting back our helmets we forced a truce between the jaws and got them back together.


The roads were taking us higher and higher. The dip in temperature and the sharpness in the sun's light was making us realize that. And how could you miss snow just next to the road. In freaking August. We sped up now, because we knew that sarchu is going to get pretty cold once the sun left home after work. Fortunately Sarchu was just around the corner. Much hoo haa later, we found a decent tented accommodation and went in to feel smug about it. It was still 5:30, so we decided to take a look at the desi grand canyon. I kid you not, it looks like that. The river has cut the place and on the wind has eroded the top edges to form forms that did not look that random and mindless a work. By the time we got out from there, it got freaking cold. We had our food and got lost in the quilt.


Morning we woke up pretty early. We knew today we had to cover max distance and two passes, and cover it well before night. Spirits were high as we started from the tents, fuel in the tanks though was a little low. Anyways we carried on and sometime later the rift between the jaws surfaced again. The place was surprising us again and again. The scenery there was beyond my talents to describe it. So we did not waste much time in trying to say anything, stopped to fill the tank up and carried on.


The second pass was pretty disturbing. One, the roads were bad, two we were feeling very tired and three there were people doing this route on cycle, getting themselves clicked atop this pass. This just got us back thinking of ourselves as stars, rather than lofty pornstars. Anyways Aakriti's birthday video was quickly shot and we decided to carry on. Much to our dismay there were no roads for most of the part now. Crushed stones and dust was the only thing, but then that is the condition of most of the roads near my house, so we did not mumble much and carried on.


Ultimately even pornstars retire. We had reached a place called Moore plains. It was basically a high altitude flat land with just dust on top of it. No road, no marking, no nothing. 10-15 kms of pure mind over matter. While i had imagined it to be on the lines of Bonneville salt flats, it turned out to be devoid of any lines that i could draw parallel to. Had my moment here while making a video of me going flat out while singing "Ye dil" from Pardes. After that decided to quit goofing around. It took us around an hour to cover this 10 km stretch. This was not the one that put the pornstars to retirement though. It was Tanglangla. The highest pass on Manali - Leh road. But even retirement did not bring any relief, because we couldn't stay there for long and it was freaking cold. And even though we were above the clouds and standing at more than 17,000 feet, we couldn't see Leh.


If the climb up was a head on collision between a sedan and a petrol tanker, the climb down was a nuclear fallout. It was really that bad and we were now exhausted. Leh was still a hundred odd kilometer away. And it was already around 4:30 pm. And i really wanted to reach Leh today.



Then we found Upshi and the road. THE ROAD. I swear to Vale i could have kissed Sonika(Sorry Sonika) when i saw the road after the horrendous stretch before and after the pass. It was the sort of happiness that a prostitute might experience when she finally gets to make love. Maybe even more. I could control my tears but not my wrist and neither could Nannu. Another chase ensued and finally i was back singing songs while riding. This was the best stretch. We let it rip and did not stop till the time we had ripped the fabric of space-time. By 6:30 we were just 20 kms away from Leh. By i-don't-care-what-time-it-is we were in Leh. We have reached. We have reached the place they said it was difficult to land in. And we have reached here on two wheels. I do not have the looks but if this was not something to feel smug about, we for sure had nothing. After three days of being out in an area that looked like Black Mesa/Area 51, Gordon Freeman was back in the coverage area. We have done the hard part. From now on it will be tough to part.



It might feel that Leh was an anti-climax, but it was not. The people who built this town knew very well the importance of journey over destination, after all they were monks. If you go thinking yay i am going to Leh on a bike, it will be disappointing. You have to think of it as Yay i will end up in Leh. This trip is strictly for the love of trip, not for the love of Leh. Leh is like the Oasis at the end of the dessert, but you have to love the desert to be able to admire the beauty of the Oasis.

The next few days were spent goofing around, lounging at a place called Gesmo, climbing up the old fort, breathing a lot, getting bikes serviced and some shopping. There is loads of stuff available here for adventure enthusiasts. North Face, Columbia, Lowe Alpine, you name it they have it. And it is not too expensive also. But the irony in Leh was that every shop while had Free Tibet posters and stickers, they were all just selling Chinese stuff. They really did not get what Gandhi did to kick the Queen out. We also did not find any second hand Ferraris. Fuck you Robin Sharma.


After spending one day trying to send Aak the video and eating and goofing, we finally decided to do something while we are in Lah. So we decided that after we do the holy grail that is Khardung La we will also try our hands at Rafting. Khardung La was easy peasy after everything we had done. We have the hill bro later, we were back to the base. By late night we had paid money to go rafting on the Zanskar and Indus river. It should have been the other way round. Zanskar is the sort of river, nightmares are made of. Huge, deep and so cold that you dip you toes in it and realize it is the sort of river that throws its kids in a dark dungeon when they get 1 marks less than the topper. The river was colder than Kimi. What is with Kimi by the way, why can't he ever be affected by anything? Anything? Anyways, me, nannu, 3 talkative italians, one french, one swiss and one Indian born American in a raft later we were off. Did i tell you i don't know how to swim? Did i tell you am scared of water? And here i was in an icy cold river trying to figure out why do i have to pay money to do this. To be honest it was fun, not that scary, there were no high grade rapids, but the ones that were there instantly shrunk your genitals. This went on for an hour. Then we took a 10 minute break and then we carried on again. Only to be followed by thick dark clouds. Last thirty minutes we were rafting in icy cold water, while also taking a shower in it. Eventually after 2hrs and 40 minutes we reached the designated tent where we could change into dry clothes. Just to slip into dry clothes felt like ladoo licking your feet with his tongue. we hogged on food and turned our back on the two mighty and cold rivers.


The next day we left for the Lake. Pretty late. We dumped our stuff at Amarjeet's place and he booked a guest room for us at Tangtse. That was because 4 Kms before the lake there was a stream called Pagal Nullah. Yes that was the name and it was aptly named, because here they said boulders the size of a small room land on you without even saying hi. So it was advised that we be done and dusted with the lake by 12. Because after that the water level rises to 6 feet and there is no way our bikes can cross it then. So it was night stop at Tangtse and early morning 50 Km dash to the lake. Of all the advise and lucks given, no one told us how cold it would be. Fuck the rivers, climbing atop Changla was the coldest thing i have done in my life. Yes colder than refusing Sonika the ride. Tangtse had heavy army presence. The border with china here is very close. We were treated like royalty and had home cooked dal-roti. I love dal-roti in army camps. It is just next best to what my mom makes. Either that or we were hungry. Tangtse was also very cold. But we were being fed warm milk and tea in bed, so cold was not the pesky bastard. It was so cozy here that i think it was a perfect place for making more pesky little bastards.


Next morning we were off to the lake. The roads a little rough initially turned out to be awesome a little later. A road flowing alongside a stream. It was not just awesome it was awesome to the power awesome.

But nothing could prepare us for the lake. Actually here it might be called a lake, in Europe it will be called a sea. It was freaking enormous and beautiful. This was the place that proved god must be a married guy, that's because the rest of this place looked so desolate that you think that god created this in anger as a sort of punishment for us humans. The lake was like his wife's sympathy gift for the what-the-fuck-just-happened humans. It simply is stupendous the lake. And like i told a number of my friends a number of times, you have to be really talented to get a bad shot here. A good shot is a guarantee here.


On our way back the clouds returned. If it wasn't for the cold the divorce lawyers would have for sure guaranteed the separation for the lower and the upper jaw. That made me want to patent the idea of throwing people wanting to split into a dark and cold pit, for them to get back together. It was -2 at changla on our way back at 3 in the afternoon. I drank tea to make assure my heart that no one is going to arrest him.


Anyways nosey-on-the balaclava later we were back to Amarjeet's place. Tomorrow we start for home. For laddoo and friends who will be lining up the road to my house.



"First don't do anything. Then ask what has the country done for you." Elitist Roy - A writer having a fountain pen stuck up the wrong hole.



It was time then. It was time for goodbye. And time for hello. Kaddu called and told us that he has night stay booked at his unit in Kargil or the brigade HQ in Drass. We planned to get cozy in Drass. But as roads would have it that was not going to happen. By night we just managed to reach Kargil. The roads were not bad all the time, but where it was good the high altitude was proving to be too much for bikes' engines. At full throttle my bike was doing 60. It does around 122 on the expressway. The weather had also turned cloudy and at some places on our way back it was raining. In a rain shadow area! Mrs. kaul - my geography teacher, be damned! We must have been very close to the border or some secret bases, because some of the bases were heavily fenced with warnings prohibiting photography. And unlike Americans since we Indians don't think much of the warnings they had posted Ak-47 wielding guards near the warnings and some more near the gates of the bases. Anyways by 8:30 we had reached the birth place of Barkha Dutt. It was again pretty cold in the night but we were told it is Drass that is even colder. Scared we ate hot food and crashed. Tomorrow it is going to be Srinagar.


Morning came and we started, only to be startled by signs on the road warning us of being under enemy observation. We were later told that these were planted during the Kargil war as the pakis used to target the convoys. The Pakistan border is closest here. Some time after Kargil, Kashmir started. The Kashmir that you might have read in books and imagined. Orchards and trees lining the road in a way that would have made the yellow brick road go green with envy. The only thing that was missing here was smriti. I hope she one day does this trip, there is no other place where she will fit the frame. Drass also has an army war memorial. And just behind the war memorial is the Tololing range. They say here in winters temperatures drop to -40 degrees. And it gets around 12 feet of snow. And the guys fought. And won. I had tears in my eyes reading the names of soldiers who did what no Arunadhiti Roy can do - do rather than talk. You can blame them for loads of thing in Kashmir but the thing is we have things to blame them for because they have ensured time and again that we have Kashmir. And no matter who has told you what, it is no easy feat. There are people battling more than just fanatics and a pesky neighbour to secure this beautiful place. After visiting Amit's friend in Battalion HQ in Drass, we were forced to eat food or face summary execution. We had food. And it was 3 by the time we left drass. Srinagar was still 200 odd kilometers away. Maybe more. The roads ahead were good but the scenery was truly splendid. The only place where i will not look at Chitrangada. Then came the Zozila pass and a small war memorial. Here in Zozilla in 1948 Indian Army had built a road to get tanks. In 19 fucking forty eight at an altitude of 12 thousand feet, TANKS. This is the highest altitude at which tanks have fought, I don't know how they saved this place. But they did.


Zozilla was the Godzilla. There is no road and it was one of the steepest passes. With a drop of almost a hundred feet into Ice on one side. Not water but almost 20 feet of frozen ice. The water flew below it. But this had to be crossed, sooner than later. Beyond this lay Amir Khusro's Jannat. This was like the pearly gates. Cross this and you have reached. It took us two hours and almost 100 trucks in a convoy coming from the opposite side to finally cross this pass. If girls ever preferred men in soot and diesel fumes, both of us would have for sure improved our dismal records. Sex anyways has to be taken out of the head, first because we were in Kashmir and secondly awesome fucking roads lay between us and Srinagar. Also, more importantly there were not any willing partners. We ripped Sonmarg like only bikers can. We were like the bikers who gave bikers the good (read bad) name. Two fully loaded bikes rampaging through this beautiful town like German soldiers on bikes with sidecars did in Europe during WWII. Except that we did not have anything to conquer or any news to deliver. Cheered by kids along side and in the bus, we went for it and before dusk we were just 60 kms from Srinagar.


And then we eradicated Malaria from the valley. Yes sir, we did that. Tearing through the fields we killed every mosquito and their family members. Al Capone would have been proud of us. Such was the scale of massacre that we had to stop and wipe the dead clean off our Visors. It was a bulldozer rampaging through a swarm of protesters. It was Sin City meets LAPD. We went on and by 8 we were facing AK-47s. It will take us another hour to do all the paper work to get inside the army camp. We got inside, had food and decided to rest, because tomorrow would be another long ride. Nannu was very tired, i surprisingly was not. After having food and a bath, the thought of people asking "Is Kashmir worth fighting for?' kept running through my head and i found the answer, it was told my Mike Rourke in Sin City to the priest (Frank Miller). The priest asks "Is it worth it?" and Mike blurts out in a baritone that only he can manage " It is worth killing for, worth dying for and worth going to hell for."


If at all we have to negotiate we can give Srinagar. The place stinks. More so after what we have seen before it.


Morning came and we left the camp and now could see Srinagar. It is like any crowded place, except there was too much military presence. We sped on the roads, only to stop a little while later to have food. Full tummy later, we were running out of Srinagar like Bolt on a hot lap. Soon the Jawahar Tunnel arrived. 2.5 Kms of sheer aural orgasm. And that was the standard exhaust on a P200 and R15. Imagine a Termignoni on a Duke. We got out and went in again. The CRPF were a little curious but we darted back in again. The second time we did the max and exited the tunnel as if we have been spit out of a wormhole. This high speed chase went on till we reached Udhampur. It was made interesting by the fact that there was traffic on this road. Every turn everything was being tested. At every turn we were trying very hard to not be Mosquitoes. Before Patnitop it started raining, caution was kept away from the wind. But like rains in the hill, it was bright and sunny soon. Caution was still not exposed to wind. After Patnitop, it was caution vs. the wind at Madison Square Garden. We were in Udhampur soon. Nannu had some idea of there being a shortcut to Pathankot. It was confirmed by the petrol pump guy. So we set out super quick. Again a very good choice. Because it was a near empty wide winding road. Perfect for testing your skills, more than your bike's. Suddenly i realized i was alone. Nannu had taken a chotta fortcut. A few phone calls and expletives later we were both on choota fortcut. It got dark now and we were going through nothing but jungle. Lush dark jungle. Soon we crossed into Punjab. I led a sigh of relief, Nannu a woohooo. I don't know why but he was really happy to have got out of Kashmir. Food and a back-to-civilization hot chocolate fudge later we were at the Air Force Base Pathankot. Nannu went on to celebrate with some of his freinds posted there, while my gloves went on to dine with a dog. It was a cranky dog (bitch?)that tore him apart over a friendly dinner chat. That was its end then. The glove's.


Till now i was thinking i would have to make another stop in Ambala and hence will be home only on Sunday. Today's epic 500 kms in a day gave me hope that Home can be done in a day. With this happy thought i slept. Though by the time i dozed off it was 1 in the morning. No surprise then we woke up late. By the time we got fairly far from pathankot it was 1. We did not drive slow, it was just that we started at 12:30 and then stopped for food. So at 1 Ambala was more than 400 Kms away. Great times are achieved by great balls. I don't have them. Nannu has. So i just chased him. And down we went in history as the aliens who tore through National Highway 1 from Pathankot to Ambala. At least the people gave us that look. There were many everything in the mouth moments. Especially at one point where i was just a kiss away from transferring all my bodily fluids and bones on to the tyres of a truck. But we pestered on and by 5 we were in Ambala. Half and hour and his photos transferred to my card later we were off. Hah! caught ya. Not we, just me. The ride back was boring, apart from trying to drill some sense into a very rashly driven SX4 by beating him in the traffic. After the delhi border arrived i was really very tired. I was thinking of some plans of going for Sid's party but as the miles went by i was sure i will not have the energy by the time i reached home. The bike was making kind of noises that would make vultures happy. I went on dreaming of a reception grander than L.N Mittal's. By the time i reached outside my house i was happy that i haven't died in this epic journey. But i was so tired that i was also veering towards "why didn't I?". Anyways there was no reception committee, no friend in the streets, no banner and absolutely no nothing. But that was all forgotten because upon hearing the bike Laddoo rushed out with enough energy to tow a Nimitz class carrier at the speed of 30 Knots. Ohkay 20 Knots. He was so happy to see me. No one has ever been. Not even my mom dad i think. Not even Babbu who had for once shown some intelligence(It was kaddu's idea i was later told). Not even me.

"You meet all the slow people when you ride fast." A fast rider who writes slow.

Very late in the night as i rested on my bed i realized that only Folks, Babbu and Laddoo were happy that i was back. Not me. Because i am not back. I am still there somewhere ripping the countryside on my bike or on some road up the pass trying too hard to fly on it while trying even harder to not fly off it.
But, I will be back.
Sometime soon i guess.