So, in my
opinion, there are three kinds of riders, well the classification is a judgment
call, but bear with me.
1. People who ride to reach a destination.
2. People, who ride to reach a destination, but
love the ride in between, but in the end it’s the destination that matters.
3. People like me, who ride to ride.
I often hear the
argument, what’s the point of riding if you are not aiming at a destination –
enjoy the ride in between, throw in some twisties, some back-roads and some old
fashioned highway blasts to make it a worthwhile ride, but in the end you need
to get to some place, the destination is cake and a good ride in between is
just a delicious icing, so to speak…
Now that is a
fair argument, for most of us out here, this is a good routine for blowing off
good steam and I can swear that it works, but riding means something more to
me, it isn’t always about reaching from point A to point B, it is about being
myself, it is about feeling alive, it’s about reaffirming myself.
I am of the
opinion that your ride is a reflection of you, and if you are true rider, the
ride chooses you; you don’t choose your ride. Again, this is a very personal
opinion but once you develop an emotional connect with your ride, she senses
your mood, the way you munch those miles is a reflection of what you are
thinking, what is going on in your head, what you want to express. And this is
exactly what I mean when I say riding is about being you.
The first time I
rode out alone was to a small hill station called Yercaud, and to be perfectly
honest, the start of the ride was scary, there were simply too many unknowns,
and this one question was haunting me constantly, am I doing this to impress
someone or make a point?, or am I doing this for myself? I found out the answer
as soon as I hit the ghat roads of Yercaud, sweeping corners, tight corners,
the omnipresent dilemma of whether to ride hard through the twisties or to look
at the beautiful forest and views all around, I simply got immersed into that
experience, and I knew, I am doing this for myself.
There is this point,
usually some 20 minutes into a ride, when I and my ride completely sync up, there
is this rhythm of the machine that I sense at all times and I know all is well
or not with her. Once we hit this sweet spot, it sinks in, yes, it’s my time,
this is something I do for myself, not for anyone else, I leave my worldly
worries behind me, just concentrate into leaning perfectly into the next curve
while the speedo climbs up and up, and then I steal a glance into the rear view
mirror, I see the curve disappearing into the edge of the RVM, getting a little
shaky and blurry as the engine screams at 10k RPM. She feels alive, I feel alive,
it is almost as if she absorbed all my worries, things that bothered me over
the week, or in the past and decimated them into the curve we just conquered,
telling me to live in the present as the curve gives way to a straight and I tuck
in behind the visor and twist the throttle, concentrating hard, living in
the present, taking the road head on. And this goes on.
Of course, not
all the rides are the same or beautiful and perfect throughout, there are times
when I hit rough patches, times when I feel lost and alone, that drive me to a
point of desperation – when I am ready to give up and turn back. But a
statement from a friend always spurs me on – ‘There is no turning back my
friend’, and believe it or not, faith in this statement has always rewarded me
with some of the most mesmerizing sights I have ever seen, some of the most
beautiful roads I have ever driven on.
On every ride I
see new things, new landscapes, new flora, new fauna; reservoirs nestled
between green hillocks – perfect solitude. Golden beaches where the waves dance
gleefully at your arrival. Endless windmills, standing tall on pastures of
golden grass, with the ocean on the horizon – a perfect romantic setting. A
church half submerged in water. Temples of old, with sculptures telling stories
of the past, endless tea plantations floating amongst mist clouds. A bridge
across the sea, the bluest my eyes have ever witnessed. A lake with myriad
shades of blue. A river bustling at the foothills of pine covered mountains
with snow peaks, roads through glaciers, the list keeps growing bigger.
And at the end
of the ride, as I am resting on a comfy chair or on a hard rock gazing at her
as she cools down in a shade, I realize that aren’t all the things I experienced
on my ride, a reaffirmation of what our elders always teach us, of how you
should approach life – don’t be bogged down by the past!, live in the present!,
the roads will always open up!, where there is a will, there is a way!, if it
is important to you, you will find a way, else you will find an excuse! Didn’t I
just experience these teachings in real life?!
And this is why
I ride to ride; it always brings me to a better place, a better frame of mind,
and a new life lesson every time. The ride is the cake for me and the destination
is the icing. I am a biker.
