… madikeri motorcross
Real time, around March 15 …. initially I’d thought that Madikeri would be a brief stop between Virajpet and Kunnur, but as the bus pulled into town, I felt relieved to see so much green. Kushalnagar is still in harsh country, but Madikeri is very much in the hills, plantation country, very green, well wooded. And the town itself smells less of urine than many other Indian regional capitals… I think I may well overstay the one hour to one day I’ve allowed for transport shuffling.
Madikeri is a centre of massive coffee growing activity, to say nothing of honey, pepper, and half a dozen other spices … but where the only coffee to be had in town is Nescafe instant (“its easier …” I’m told). Very easy though to buy real coffee, but of course you need to be travelling with your own stovetop … Cafe Cofffee Day (the Indian Espresso Chain) will get here eventually, and with them will come stale microwaved chocolat donuts, white bread sandwiches, hot dogs on sweet buns and other highly nutritious exotic food items. Local food is not extraordinary … standard south indian fare, but with a lot more meat dishes (pork is the local speciality) than I’m used to. It’s hard to find a pure veg restaurant: after 2 months in Chennai where pure veg is the norm, I’m convinced that food at pure veg places tastes cleaner.
Immediately fall in love with the hotel. Very cheesily decorated with plastic plants, curtains, fresh red rugs, TV set and occaisional hot water. Green view out the back window second storey, isolated enough to practice sax for a few hours a day. Impeccable.
First afternoon, walk around, and find myself on a country road walk to Abbee falls, nearby … about 7-8km. This proved to be absolute medicine … horizons, green hills, big trees, plantations. A few auto drivers stopped by to offer lifts, but I kept on my own hoof, getting to the falls around sunset. These were pretty dismal compared to the walk itself, and smelling slightly dank from nearby madikeri. Pretty in some ways. I meet an odd Indian character, Atul, and share an auto back to town … then Dosa and Chai. We miss connecting for beers later … I am very much chilled out and channel surfiing Kannada movies. He’s contemplating a one day trek at Kakkabe the next day. I am contemplating chilling out and enjoying the fact that I no longer feel like absolute crap in the sinuses.
Next day I wander Madikeri to take in local sights … a few inspiring views to prop up my clarinet practice. A few tombs, a small museum, a local fort … typical ‘museum india’ stuff. A nice spot on the edge of town, Rajas Seat and I chill there most of the day. On walk home, I chance into a tour shop, curious about Kakkabe. Chance slip of the tongue, and I am contemplating hiring a bike for the next day. They have a purple Pulsar 180cc, the latest and greatest thing in Indian Bike style. I am tempted sorely, decide that there are a few odd things to check out in what would be a very cool hilly windy country to ride a bike.
Next morning, I am sold on the idea, and am ringing the tour shop from first thing in the morning. Eventually I connect with them, and take out the Pulsar for the day. I have a rough map, and no agenda other than the pleasure of riding.
First problem is the front brakes … these are great … disk brakes … much more sensitive than what I’d gotten used to. Gears of course slightly different to other Indian bikes, slighltly heavier feel on the handling, but I feel ok. Hotel manager turns up a few slightly better district maps, and I’m off. First problem is a big piece of chaos, stalling the bike running up the hill. 10 minutes and a few hints later, I’m on top of it all, I think … resolved to keep away from the disk brake, and comfortable giving the pulsar a bit of gas up the hills.
A spin around the circuit of Madikeri, breaking at traffic lights at the bottom of hills, a few wrong turns up one way streets … I’m comfortable, packed up, and heading to my first destination, the dunube forest elephant farm, a place where domesticated elephants are returned to the jungle via an acclimatisation program with wilder elephants.
Well it is indeed great country to take a two wheeler. I’m still holding speed around, but getting the feel of the pulsar under me around these bends is an absolute freakout. Even slowly. I avoid ending up as a hood ornanement for any of the private buses that tour these hill roads. But it’s a close one a couple of times … buses are without question the kings of the indian road, more stubborn and aggressive than the ubiquitous lorries that are the backbone of Indian Industry. The Lorries carry everything from shit to gravel to bamboo to petrol to plastic kids toys, and are generally beautifully painted up, slow, and fairly polite drivers.
This is my fifth excursion on a bike in India. Initially, Lessons on Manvinder’s 1995 Enfield … which proved to be unrentable when he asked for a deposit that would just about let me buy my own. Still, a good bike to learn on. The Enfields are lovable and hatable, comfortable if you have long legs, a big motor (350cc) that won’t be shaking to hell on a long hard trip. Very quirky gears, and most of the gear on the opposite side of the bike to the regular Indo-Jap bikes (Heros Pulsars Bajaj). Manvinder’s bike pulled a bit to the left … well I didn’t break anythoing during lessons, and got the feel of it after a week. Then Olivier turns up a Maharastran Enfield in full running order for a big tour … but with dodgy papers and a 30000Rs price tag … I’m intrigued, but balk, trying to wait him down to 25000. Eventually, the dodginess of the papers, and the fact that they are Maharastran (which means the bike can only legally be sold in Maharastra) settles me on skipping this option. But the bike felt like only a Bullet ready to go can give. Smoother gearing than the other, almost as big and heavy as an average auto, faster than a bus. Actually a touch awkward for big city commuting in India.
Next a Hero Honda while I was in Adyar. This is the classic economy bike of the . Very light, handles smoothly, 150cc, around 75kpl, a bit whiny, and definitely cramped for my legs. A pleasure to ride, to push around, though, and fun in and out of traffic. The winner so far, though has been the TVS vector that I had a spin on at Adyar (belonging t one of TVG’s students). Handling, power, mileage, and for an Indian bike, not that uncomfortable for me.
Back to the Pulsar … the motor bike review fades into distance, cruising slow speed these corners, moving evenly, coming to merge with the bike in some tiny way, but losing myself in the moment, eventually passing a few busses, and to the elephant farm … stopping where I feel for dodgy photos, coconuts, directions … a dodgy sign towards the elephant farm, and a smaller turn to the right, a narrow path, an oncoming tractor and no room, no speed, no time, and I hit the disk brake, moving at 3kph, lean hard against roadside, no danger, but I split the front panel … shit. But I resolve that I’m having fun, I’ll let it go and hope it won’t take too much.
100m further on, the elephant farm on the other side of the Kauvery, signs warn of crocodiles, and hotel operator has a boat… I’m told that I’m out of tour time. Apparently the farm runs at prescribed times for bigger tours only.. Elephant washing on other side of river … I head over, but not quick enough. There are plenty of Indians ladies washing clothes, I think I’ll be OK. I chase slowly after the disappearing elephant. This is enough for me at the moment. I catch up eventually, and the boy holds him for me. I’m nervous as hell (see attached photo) but it feels amazing to be this close to such a big creature. Well I was impressed anyway. Tusk feels amazing, smooth polished by work. This tusker was probably as old and safe as they get. I wander around for a bit, and head over to the other side of the river. I have a great paddle in the river … it feels pretty much clean around here, and if it doesn’t kill the crocodiles it probably won’t hurt me too much either.
Back on the bike after a bit of a debate over serviette maps. I’m looking for a slightly alternative route back to Madikeri, where I can fix this panel and grab some food. The serviette proves to have the right directions and the wrong distances, but eventually I am riding through coffee and pepper plantations, lunch of veg puff, tea and pak at a small town, cruisy run back into the top of Madikeri. One whole tube of supaglue later, and I think I might have gotten away with it. I set off on the afternoon’s trek. A few km down the road, I start to reestimate my fuel consumption. The hills of Madikeri are giving me less than the 50kpl I’ve budgeted for, and my fuel is running low. I won’t be making it to Thalacauvery (the mythical source of the Cauvery), but stop near a small village on an embankmet overlooking a mountain and the setting sun. This is good enough for me. I pull up the Pulsar, chat with a few locals, play some clarinet up a rise, and watch the sun fade through low lying cloud. Back to Madikeri, return the bike, nice try, but lose the bond … cycles have been fun, but a bit loaded … am kinda relieved not to be owning one, just at the moment. Dissapointed at the fuckup, but still elated from the days riding.
Next day, morning bus to Kunnur, a ride to hell and back of an entirely different order …
