Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Learning from your Rides- KDs Motorcycle Diary

After a lot of Harley riding over the past 4 years, I have had some hard introspecting to do.
I graduated in bikes from the SuperLow to the Super Glide to the FatBoy where my liking for torqueand economics finally seem to have peaked.
I am more driven now by marquee rides. Signature rides- unique locations. Sequencing locations like no one has done before.
Riding to Dhule ten times a year or riding to Vapi five times a quarter to just add 5-700km a weekend- is just useless commuter riding to me now.
I restrict my riding to Igatpuri, Lonavala and then to Palasdari in the north. That's it.
After completing the Leh ride by car and then by bike- I see no charm in rides that I call pedestrian now.
Yes- so where is my problem? It is that I make new friends and they are where I was in India 4 years ago. Wanting to pound the streets and I looked at them- 'what boss? no vision, no dream.'
So wrong on my part.
Probably my peers also questioned my quick change of bikes equally, branding me as whimsical- at its most police. Probably my neighbours wondered- where does he go for five hours every weekend morning.
Over the past few weeks I have been thinking and all I have made peace with is- destinations and goals of other riders and mine will not match.
Rajmachi in the rains does not attract me. As much as the best road in India- Hyderabad to Bangalore, does not beckon me either.
The border roads of india- be it the 'no pillar zone' in the Kutch, the long forgotten Munnabao railway station, the Israeli grass and snakes in the sands of Longewala  sector, the wheat fields and the brave punjabis who live around BOP Khakian.
All the way to the riverine plains around Dhubri in Assam. I learnt- these may not turn on other riders. I learnt not to demand- and yet I learnt.
To let them sell their bikes till their economics and riding senses were filled.
To let them ride where they learnt to enjoy themselves- remembering good times with their fathers and friends on the road.
Not many have been machine gunned at on the LC while having a younger Officer say- 'park your bike this side, so those fools won't get a stray round into your paint.' But yet a samosa-chai stop in a torrential downpour in Bijapur with friends you have not seen in ten years, could hold more thrill.
I promise not to cringe or wince at the topic of an upgrade. I promise not to chew my lips at the sound of a destination.
I will learn to smile that I did all that.
Just a few months ago. 

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