Pre-dawn on the NH17, Panvel bypass |
Breakfast stop at Poladpur |
The 535cc thumper's last run before its reincarnation |
A few kilometres down, a single lane road heads up the mountain and I remember it from my past rides as miles and miles of rolling curves that swiftly elevate the road providing dramatic vistas of the plains below that are lush with many hues of green after the rains. As I meet the first curve I reset my speed, downshifting once to get the revs up from my antiquated 4-speed Albion gearbox with that rather large gap between the third and fourth gear. And so it begins the intoxicating dance between man, machine and the road below. I remember now why I prefer riding alone, or in a small group of friends whose lines I trust, tag-team partners swapping the lead position in friendly competition, egos in the dust sometimes to point out to riders that their riding is on the ragged edge pushing too hard beyond their skills. Takes maturity to say it, as well as to accept it, which is a quality hard to find in testosterone-fuelled riders that I encounter often on my rides.
Like every ride I do, the first few kilometres are just to find a rhythm reminding myself to be light on the bars, upper body loose, legs locked on the pegs till I’m dialled into the groove, the zone of grace that is the reward for riding. Faster, faster exhorts that sibilant voice in my head as the corners come rapidly like the kinks and curves of a rollercoaster as the bike bellows its own tune of exultation. This is the speed I crave, not the adrenaline of a flat-out acceleration but riding the curves hard yet smooth, carving perfect lines from one apex to another and it seems that today I’m blessed with a special grace, moments that I’ll remember long after the ride is over.
I slow down just enough so that extra little bit of space lets me see unnoticed vistas and feel the cool tickle of the wind as spokes of sunlight winkle through the canopy of trees above me and I know I’m lucky to have had that wonderful, flying lap up the mountain. As I pull up into the porch of the hotel to the greetings of my friends who have already arrived, that voice in my head is stilled. But tomorrow is another day when I ride down the other side of the mountain on my way home where I will try to search out that momentary and elusive taste of joy that riding brings, hopefully finding a state of grace while I’m on the road.
I came across this blog sometime last year and have been following it off and on since. (Although I must admit, of late, I have become an avid follower). What did get me hooked to this blog was this article- State of Grace. Its one of the most beautiful pieces on motorcycling I have come across in my whole adult life. Its an inspiration to motorcyclists- young and old. Never fails to get me excited and head out to the parking lot.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant stuff.
superb writeup!!
ReplyDelete