Never an easy ride

Its been two years since I rode the first leg of the Ducati Globetrotter90 trip. I was talking to Ouseph about another trip we did to Spiti in the winter and my mind wandered and I found my self on Facebook looking through my archives. I learnt that two years ago today I rode from Sweden into Norway to the old capital of Trondheim. It was one heck of a day that I wont forget ever. 

This is what happened as told by me to MCN 

I swear this is how it happened and it's all true. It was a rainy morning in Östersund, Sweden, and the temperatures was about 9 degrees. A good time for me to zip-in my warm as well as my wet liner. Since the weather didn't seem like it was going to let up I geared-up, packed the bike and hit the road. The idea was to make it to Trondheim, Norway, by the evening. Not a hard day's ride at all. 

Wait, let me start at the beginning. My name is Vir Nakai. I run Helmet Stories Adventure Motorcycle Touring Outfit back in India and I am one lucky motorcyclist. I have been chosen to be the first rider for the Ducati Globetrotter 90 Project.  A relay ride where seven  of us are riding one Ducati Enduro 1200 around the world to celebrate the 90th Anniversary of Ducati. The only thing I was told when handed the bike in Bologna was 'see you in Moscow in 25 days'.

With time on my side I obviously took the scenic route and found myself in the middle of Sweden riding towards the Norwegian Sea. So I fuelled up at the first petrol station I came by and rode for about an hour or so. Before the Norwegian border I reached this spot by a lake which was screaming for me to stop and take a picture or three. I obliged and spent a few minutes looking around and marvelling at how beautiful Sweden was (is).

Back on my way I stopped once after crossing the border into Norway to take some more pictures and made my way towards Trondheim. When I reached my hotel for the night I started searching my gear for my wallet. It takes me a while with all the pockets in my  jacket - it didn't take me long to start mildly panicking. Where the hell is the wallet?

I last used it to fuel up in the morning and now it’s late afternoon. I do a bit of a jig and remembered that every time I use my bank card it sends me an email as to where it was used. Using that information, I call back the petrol station, but they have not seen the wallet anywhere. I couldn't believe it, is losing my wallet going to end the trip of a lifetime? 

Moneyless, cardless, licence-less, fried, with half a tank of petrol, in a new city, in a new country I sat cursing myself. How could you be so stupid? The only choice I had was to ride the 200km and check every spot I had stopped on the way up. With 350km of petrol (thank god for the 30 ltr tank) I started my trip back.

My mind filled with a 100 plans on how to fix this, on how to get some money to at least make it back to Copenhagen (my closest friends live there). But whatever way the day was looking bleaker then it had been. There was no silver lining to it.

I stopped at the last spot I had taken a picture at and searched the ground and the area around it and nothing. I carried onto the next spot and nothing. I crossed the border back into Sweden to the brilliant spot I had stopped at and started my search again. Still nothing. I really thought it would be there, it had to be. It wasn’t there I still remember the feeling in the Pit of my stomach. 

Then I saw something on a rock I had stood on to take a picture. The wallet just sitting there waiting. All the cash was floating in the lake. All of it. Every last Euro, Krona and a few Rupees. But the wallet was just there. It was unbelievable. I didn’t know if I should laugh or howl my guts out. Of all trips to do something so stupid I had to chosen this one.

With rain and tears of joy running down my my face I rode the 180km back to Trondheim to a big celebration dinner and a well deserved beer vowing not to be as stupid as I have been already. So much for it being an "easy day's ride".