A short account of my solo motorcycle ride from Bangalore to Ponnachi and back.
Why do we need a break?
It is sometimes necessary to slow down and take it at the pace of life. Realizing how unnecessarily we have keyed ourselves to an uncomfortable pace is hard, and rewinding is required — both are to be done often. While the circumstances and the people around us demand more than a natural pace, making space to tune back to the rhythm is essential. Adjusting ourselves to experience the sensations brings the crumbs of life back into us. Witnessing the sunrise and sunset, the moving clouds and the dark night skies; hearing the tune of whirring winds, the white noise of the streaming water and chirping birds; feeling the warmth of the first light and the shivering cold of the hills; enjoying the soothing petrichor of the first rain and fresh air of a spring morning; relishing the taste of the freshest water and sweetest wild fruits. Doesn’t taking a break, short or long, help fine-tune?
Why do we love solitude and travel alone?
I do enjoy good company, but at times, I will need my own good company. It sounds a little illogical to be at my own company when I am at all times, and it is also not easy to put in words what I mean to say by being with my company. I start with deep breathes and go inwards and stop at a point when it starts getting too philosophical. Isn’t enjoying one’s own company a right step towards being an excellent company to the other person?
By traveling alone, you are for yourself, and you do not have to bother about the companion that also means that there is no one to care about yourself. Traveling alone is a tradeoff at times but always with a considerable profit. I get a chance to be anonymous. When I am unknown, I can be myself or totally a different person; no one will ever know who I’m and what I am expected to be. I can be an idiot in the crowd, be totally lost and disappear before anyone finds my mistakes. This new transient group of people has no expectations, and I do not have to be predictable. Is that not freedom?
Traveling alone gives me more time and space for myself. While I sound a lot selfish about ‘myself,’ I guess selfishness is good at times.
9th July 2021 — Bangalore to Shivanasamudra to Ponnachi — A short Hike in the rain around the village — Spent the evening at the IB
Loading the bike itself is great excitement. Expecting showers, I had wrapped myself with a rain jacket and my bag in the rainproof sheets. I started at 6.30 AM, and I had decided to ride leisurely. I had to just cover 200 odd KMs, and I had all day. It was cloudy and gloomy for a Friday morning. Bangalore traffic was just waking up with taxis and the early morning commuters. I stopped at Bidadi for the morning coffee, stretched a bit, and got on the bike again.
I reached Shivanasamudra around 10.15 AM. Being a major tourist attraction, unlike the usual days, there was no one around. Found a nice place to have my packed breakfast. I had my time there until a monkey hopped on my arms, spoiling my solitude. I was lucky that it didn’t like my rain jacket too much and left without tearing it.
I did not want to use my gadgets much for this trip which consequently means no maps too! I had a great time asking for the direction with locales and breaking into a conversation.
It was about 1.30 PM when I reached Ponnachi and my good friend, Mahesh, was waiting at the school. They know me at the school for the annual book distribution event that my friends and I do. Had a quick lunch and stretched my legs on the floor mat. Mahesh’s friends came around, and an immediate plan to hunt for some wild fruits and berries was in place. We hiked a small distance hoping for Nerale at a nearby farm. We came back empty-handed but drenched in the rain and had a first experience of the shower. Even before Our clothes could dry, we were heading to the IB atop a small hillock. We spent the evening there until the sun dunk behind the hills.
Villages sleep early, and I had to tune to that time. I fell asleep before I could recollect the entire day.
10th July 2021 — A short trek to a viewpoint — Stretching legs at a quarry — An off-road ride to a nearby lake — Gathering wild fruits and vegetables for the dinner
Villages wake up early too. It was a cold, cloudy, and windy morning; the sun had not given any hints of showing up, and the firewood-fed stove was boiling hot water for the morning chores.
Around 7 AM, we were heading towards a watchtower that overlooked the jungle, which was occasionally used by the forest guards. A narrow wobbling spiral stairway which was disjoint from the structure, led to the 40 ft. tall watchtower. It barely held itself when each of us took turns to climb. The view compensated for the risk. The monsoon showers had caused the greens to pop, and the views were endless; only the morning haze obstructed the horizon’s visibility. We then followed a small trail that existed only in the memory of my fellow hikers that would lead us to an open viewpoint.
I was repeatedly warned of the elephants and other small (only in comparison of size) man-eating animals. To reassure their presence, I could spot a few unfamiliar and familiar animal excreta and pugmarks. The small water sources and the thick vegetation affirmed all my beliefs. I could neither outrun any wild animal nor climb a tree; I was perhaps the perfect pray out of the fellow hikers. None of my desk job’s risk management skills could help mitigate the situation.
After missing the path and a couple of detours, we found the viewpoint. The viewpoint was a large flat rock ledge offering a panoramic view. We sat there enjoying the flowing clouds and changing shades. All of us just spoke to the wind, and we had our own conversations.
We jumped over fences, crossed farms and dodged thorny shrubs, and made our way back for breakfast. We were then off to an off-road adventure, and I was not ready yet. I was told that there is a secluded lake atop a hill, reachable half the way by motorbike and then hike a distance. We paused our ride at a stone quarry on our way to the lake. My motorbike took all the strain, and we halted at a small stream. We had to turn back after we spotted pugmarks of a baby Elephant along with its herd. They can go rouge to protect the little one, and we were not ready to risk.
On our way back, we found the Kosam fruit (locally the name of the fruit sounded something like Huljedi Hannu). A small wild fruit, the size of a berry, rough thorny coat outside, a jelly textured fruit with a large seed and a sharp tart taste. I was on the ground being fed by the two guys atop the tree. We also gathered (rather smuggled) wild vegetables for dinner. We took off, fearing the humans this time with behaviors that could threaten more than a wild animal. We sat near the school and ate the fruits endlessly until the tongue couldn’t bear the sourness.
The night’s dinner was an assortment of fruits and vegetables that we gathered. We relished them with Raagi Mudde and a good portion of rice.
11th July 2021 — Visit Male Mahadeshwara temple — Ride to Gopinatam — The second and the scary mode of transport
Being my last day, I had planned to visit the Male Mahadeshwara temple before riding back home. An hour ride and evading the long queue, we got in the sanctum and prayed. We then rode to the other side of the hill — Gopinatham, the birthplace of Veerappan. One of Mahesh’s friends had arranged lunch, and we enjoyed it in the river banks of Kaveri. Unlike my last visit, I did not have enough time to swim in the river, and I had to rush back to reach home before dark.
Mahesh and his friends suggested a shorter route back home. It included a nerve-racking ferry ride across the river along with my bike. I can just swim to save myself but not in a swift and turbulent river. I was fortunate to be offered an exclusive ferry compared to others waiting in the queue, but that didn’t comfort me. I asked for assurance from Mahesh and the ferryman if the ride is safe. They responded “yes!” with a mocking smile, and I grinned and held myself when the ferry left the riverbank. I got my life back only after unloading the bike on the other side of the river on the hard ground under my feet. The rest of the road was towards home, recalling my peacefully spent 3 days.
