Malvika's Ramblings

You are addicted to cycling when…

 

Ganesh: Begin the year with a smile.

Juhi D: I seriously read slime.

The Tour of Nilgiris 09 story

Going downhill. So Help Me God.

I squeezed my brakes super hard, feathered as I rushed down hairpin bends. 10 done. 26 more to go. All headlong.

5 more done. Got to stop now, to cool the tires. I dropped some water on the hot rims and watched it sizzle. Hissss. Adarsh said ‘I should try making an omelette on these rims.’ Looked at my bruised brake shoes. Worn down to 1mm potato wafers.
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‘Why am I doing this?’ I wondered on one of the endless roads. ‘What am I trying to prove to myself?’ I asked as my ipod died. No idea. No answers blowing in the wind. And then all thoughts aside, I started going...

Downhill. So Help Me God.

Photo by PeeVee
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I just finished Tour of Nilgiris 09 (TFN), a cycling expedition in South India organized by RideACycle Foundation in December 09. 70 riders participated. Both road bikes and MTBs were on tour. Most seen cycles: Bianchi, Cannondale, Giant, Colnago, Trek.

I was sponsored by www.chainreactioncycles.com – the world’s biggest online store for cycling accessories and components.

Did a total of 744km over Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu states.

Route: Bangalore > Mysore > Hasan > Madikeri > Irupu > Sultanbathery > Ooty > Bandipur.

157km
+ 120km
+ 120km
Rest Day
+ 75km
+ 95km
+ 53km

The ride was all on-road, over highways, mountains with hairpin bends, a Tiger Reserve, natural sanctuaries, few villages and towns, bridges, Gorur dam, and tea plantations.
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Not everyday did I feel like Rush or Lurch. On Day 7, I was Ballast. Uphill to Ooty. Breathe. Push. Breathe. Push. For kilometers and kilometers on gears 1, 4. You could have knocked down any of us riders with a feather. Oh well, maybe not Rajesh Nair, Gaurav Dwivedi, Arvind Bhateja, Peter Clarence or Shay.

Rajesh Nair – Gold-lobed, lean sportstar of TFN, with a one-sided grin. Co-founder of the ride as well.

Gaurav Catch-Me-If-You-Can Dwivedi – Something of a discovery in the cycling circle. Like Michael Phelps has his capacious lungs, I suspect Gaurav has something going for him as well.

Shay – The Israeli from Hyderabad, drafting autos and trucks, making the most of highways. A super-likeable guy who won the bamboo bike designed by Vijay Sharma. He won it for being the most sporting rider. He must have uttered a max of 15 words at the tour.

 

Rajesh ripping the road. Photo by PeeVee.

Peterpeterpumpkineater. Photo by PeeVee.

Bamboo bike designed by Vijay Sharma. Pic by PeeVee.

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As we went through villages, the children whooped and twirled, squealing with joy. Their white 32 shone, making a perfect ad for Happy Dent all along the way. They stretched their arms and we passed like rockstars.

No one; no one ever slowed down in front of the cheerleaders.

Back on the highway, on an uphill climb, I panted unglamourously and overtook a bullock cart. The concerned driver, stared at me for a while and then hurriedly offered me a hunk of watermelon from his high haystack perch.

A little distance ahead, I got married. In a welcome ceremony at a village, a small party of locals made me (a blazing cyclist.. ahem..ahem) putter to a halt. They quickly circled me with a big garland of flowers and followed it with a rapid round of applause. Smiles and flying kisses all around, I took off, continuing on my tour while happily married to..err..someone in Karnataka.

Further ahead, riders refuelled themselves at one of the Support Stations. Support Station 1 promised an endless supply of Pulpy Orange, Mazaa, chikki, Krakjack biscuits. Next station = more Pulpy Orange, Mazaa, chikki, Krakjack biscuits. Next day, next station, more Pulpy Orange, Mazaa, chikki, Krakjack biscuits. Would I like another orange drink? No, thank you.

Whirling-dervish kids. Photo by Aditya Pisupati.

Support Station. Photo by PeeVee.
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I must say that on Day 1 itself, I let go of the rugged, weather-beaten adventurer image I was set to don. You see, Day 1 ended in a bubble bath. Lunch was provided at the Support Stations or if you missed it, food was handed by the motorbike supporters. Navigation was effortless as we simply followed bold white arrows, marked on the roads by Soumya the evening before.

On Day 5 (Rest Day) local masseurs pummelled and rubbed us hard (“Ok pressure, madam?”) and totally melted our tired bodies, sending us into a blissful lull. The rest of the day we were water babies at Irupu waterfall and the huge pond. At night, I swung in a hammock as palm fronds swayed lightly and Supreeth pointed out existing and non-existent constellations. To perk things up at midnight, we chased giant tadpole clusters in the inky black pond, with torch light.

That's me in the pond. Photo by Pratvii.

@ Irpu. Photo by Sudhir Palliyil.

Massage @ Irupu. Photo by PeeVEe.

But bear in mind, the expedition was not a breeze. I distinctly recall the Ooty climb and our sore butts. As Nischal Pai put it “My butt is so calling for attention, it has a definite identity now. In fact, it’s a complete country, with its own flag and national anthem.” Perhaps, we should have taken the omniscient Dr. Harsh’s advice after all, and packed butt creams with us.

For the next TFN however, Siva Sai’s advice may be of greater use. I believe Siva will soon be releasing a tutorial on How-To-Escape-A-Tusker-On-Cleats. The last day of TFN, I did get a tingling, exciting, vulnerable, death-defying feeling in Bandipur Tiger Reserve as we cycled past large signs that said ‘Don’t tease animals and endanger your own life’, ‘Elephants have right of way’, ‘No picnics, alcohol or parking.’ An occasional car would pass us, its windows shut tight. But then, you know how it is. Once a cyclist or runner has his/her tempo going, he just cannot stop and break the rhythm. And so it was with Siva. Until he spotted a tusker on the road, charging in his direction. Siva promptly abandoned his Rs. 30,000 (or 50k?) cycle and sprang into the forest. His strategy was, as he later explained, to run around the trees in circles hoping that the fat elephant would get stuck.

In order to have an even better TFN next year, Manish Bhatnagar, a fellow rider, suggests that the Support Stations should serve 60 ml of Siva’s Regal + 1 packet of Electrol + Soda to ensure that all riders go faster than any chasing elephant.

All in all, as Arun might say, it was simply Ahhsome.

Photo by PeeVee.

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A big thank-you to

Supreeth (Yeah I could try this. Wayanad?)
Gaurav (Hydraulic)
PeeVee (Please give me one shot while munching on RiteBite.)
Vasu (TFNers, that day in your life has finally come! You must climb Ooty today!)
arun J (Take me to my room someone.)
salim
kamesh
francis (Francis, give me lunch please!)
dr renu – soji (Doctor doctor, it hurts here.)
ravi & uma (Umm…beetroot raita!)
sridhar (jack lee)
aashish solanki
arun katiyar
rajput auncle & aunty
kartik
satish (Vroooom..)
deepak (Vroooom 2..)
soumya sharath raju
soumya white arrow
soraisam devakishor
rakesh
rakesh shah n team
mr. bhaskar rao
neelima

Stay tuned for TFN 09 illustrations on this blog.

On my way to Bangalore TFN with Chain Reaction Cycles

‘No, not possible.’ said the taxi-driver.'It will not fit.'And there we stood in Gurgaon, a dusty city with no public transport, already late for my 9: 20 pm flight to Bangalore, to the coolest national cycling expedition - Tour of Nilgiris. We stared at the car as if doing that would expand it enough to stuff my cycle inside. Like staring at an algebra question makes it solve itself.

No, I couldn’t have procured a sponsorship with Chain Reaction Cycles, prepared for this event with maniacal cycling, and gotten a miraculous leave from the advertising agency I work at, only to be deterred by the 8 km that lay between me and the airport.

Switched to Plan Do-whatever. Waved a canter/tempo/rattle-machine to a stop. And insisted that the two mufflered, thin, inconspicuous gentlemen in it (driver and friend) come to my rescue. Hauled myself and my Trek 3700 cycle into it and said 'Go!' A windy ride. I held on, lest I be tossed from side to side. Drivers following the canter flicked their headlights from low to high beam, in conversation with me, I think. Arrived at the airport in the nick of time to swing into the plane and hit Bangalore. 

Inside the plane, the guy sitting next to me asked me very politely if he could perhaps have a look at my in-flight magazine. By the end of it, he was showing me heartfelt songs he had written on his laptop, for a girl he had fallen for.