Malshej Ghat Trip

"I better be on my motorcycle thinking about God than in Church thinking about my motorcycle."
-Anonymous

Its been a while that i have done something impulsive. Like reading an article on a road trip and deciding to follow the trail. So this last Friday when an article on Malshej Ghat appeared in HT, i decided to exactly that. With GD promptly agreeing to the trip, it was an easy decision to make.
We had decided to start early, at early morning 6 but lazy buggers that we are, and combined with the fact that we are night owls too, we started at noon. It was hot but breezy, exactly the kind of afternoon you want to end up riding till the sun burns its heels on the shadowy horizon of time. LP was up and raring to chase the sun. Its thirsty red tank was filled to the brim before we headed to Kalyan.

The whole journey was approximately 150 Kms and the gentle breeze was a good enough compensation for the hot sun. GD was sitting behind with his antique aviator Ray Ban's adorning his eyes, a thoughtful accessory i kept reminding myself mentally as the shiny road kept hurting my eyes. LP had taken to the highway like fish to water, happily roaring away to glory. The speedometer showed a steady 80 KPH and i kept the throttle. There is something spiritual to driving a bike on the highway, something esoteric enough to make you forget the middling life and the truant situations it throws you into. At that moment the bike and the biker become one and everything else is transitory. I experienced the same as we chugged along our unknown destination.

We stopped beside one of the lemonade stalls to satiate our thirst with one of the delicious lemon soda prepared by the guy. Satisfied, we started again, this time with GD driving, and in short time reached Kalyan from where we took the road to Murbud. We had decided to have lunch there. As soon as we reached there we took the left turn from the crossing and after a few asking for directions reached a wine shop. There we bought a couple of cans of beer and asked for a nice place to eat. We were directed to “Dalvi Lunch Home” a few paces away where we sat down to have our repast. The owner assured us that we can have our beer there. We ordered mutton biryani, pomphret fry and rotis. The food was affordable and delicious and combined with beer felt heavenly. After lunch it was time to move on towards our mountainous retreat.

I don't know if it was the effect of beer or the view was so beautiful, i felt like crying in pleasure when i saw the majestic ghats slowly jutting their heads and inviting to their abode. LP swept on the road like knife through butter. The road had started winding, slowly getting more vertical and bending like a snake through the mighty canyons. I suddenly felt a few drops on my head and wondered aloud if it would start raining. GD assured me that it was not the raindrops but the moisture from the trees up. It felt strange that the trees were dropping moisture in this hot weather. Slowly as we approached our destination the incline became steeper and the road started making helical swoops in the mountain. The sun tired of the chase the whole day had softened its glare and was slowly making a retreat behind the shadowy mountains.

As we were about to reach our destination, the MTDC retreat at Malshej, we were stopped by a cop. Sitting on his bike in his white uniform he signaled us to stop and asked for papers. I immediately took out my license which was in such a dilapidated condition that the inspector could all but chuckle looking at it. He asked us what we were doing in these parts and we promptly replied that we had come as tourists from Mumbai. He felt quite reassured at the answer and nodded. “Do not roam around in the night” he warned, “there was an accident here last night, some car was stopped and the whole family murdered”. Having assured him that we had no intention to roam around in the night, we sped away under the watchful glare of the official eyes. A little further, just ahead of a small tunnel, we stopped by to release our bladders of all the beer we had in the afternoon. It was a wonderful sight seeing the land in its full glory stretched out in front of us like a bowl of sweets tantalizing hungry boys. We would have our fill and the party had begun.
We reached the MTDC retreat, and ugly run down structure. A corpse of a headless buffalo adorned the the broken road leading to the retreat. There were a few people in a MUV who stared at LP as i parked it at the porch. We asked for rooms to be shown and a fellow jumped and brought some keys from somewhere. We saw the rooms bought some bottles of water and asked for the room rent. “1100” came the reply from the manager. Both of us looked at each other and decided we would try out the only other option we had, a place called “Suyog” hotel about which we had read in the hotel. We took a final inspection of the numerous pics of various bollywood stars who had apparently stayed in the retreat and headed for Suyog. Suyog seemed a blessing compared to MTDC retreat and we stuck a bargain for a very decent cottage for 400 bucks. Immediately we took to the lake on LP to have a dip before the sun finally went down.

As i eased LP to the spot where the road merged into the lake, we saw a village grandma quietly washing her clothes. She did not seem to take notice of us and so we after a little deliberation entered the icy waters of the lake. The floor of the lake gave the creep as it was muddy and we asked grandma if the water was deep to which she educated us in some gibberish which seemed undecipherable. As we savoured the sun and the mountains and the waters of the lake all in one scenic spot, i felt the transitoriness of our life. Life seemed to stand still asking no questions and answering none but the sudden stillness was surreal. The distant sight of a village cowboy vainly coaxing his herd of buffaloes at the other end of the lake to come back, injected a spark of humor in the otherwise serene atmosphere. He finally had to swim and bring them back himself.
Having refreshed ourselves in the lake waters we headed back to the hotel. A ride further 10 kms to Malshej Ghat brought us to a place where we could buy a bottle of vodka for the night and savour pakoras with tea. Dinner was a feast of country chicken which was not as delicious as it promised to be. The vodka opened hearts and mouths and later on we had a walk by the moonlight till the lake, discussing women, love and other such mysteries of life. Our journey had come to and end but we went back the next day with a silent promise to come back some other time and trek to Sriharischandra Garh, a fort near Malshej Ghat. But that would be another time, another story and another journey.

THE DHAK TRIP

(We take the initial steps of a 3-hr trek)

(the Dhak cliff,sticking out like a sore thumb)

(Jui posing with LP)

"On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all.You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming."
- Robert Pirsig,Zen And The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance


Time: 6:30 AM
Day: Sunday
Date: 20th Nov,2005
Weather: Cool, slightly chilly but promise of a sunny day apparent from the sun’s valiant attempts in the daybreak itself.

“Lal Pari” had been given the long drive drill a day before the trip and it was eager for the trip. Its petrol tank had been filled to the brim, a cool 14 litres of gas down its thirsty throat (which meant that I bled my already slim wallet). Brake check-OK. Tyre pressure-OK. Washed and ready to hit the road.
There is little one can do after that except pray that Murphy’s Law will spare you.
Early morning we started later than what we had decided, which was expected. We were 16 people in all, 3 added up mysteriously overnight to change the unlucky number of 13 we had earlier. There were a total of nine bikes. 8 of us started from office at 7:10 AM and we were to meet the rest 8 there in Pimpri Chowk, at the other end of civilization. I had pillion company in the form of Sumitra.We reached the spot in an hour amid howls of protest directed at us for being late for having stopped midway to pack a breakfast of omlette sandwiches, which later everybody hungrily lapped when we reached Kamshet.
The drive to Kamshet has been one that my bike,LP(Lal Pari,for short)was already familiar with, and I particularly like the part where the road cuts its way through two hills. It’s a sight for sore eyes. I attempted to break the 100 km/hr barrier on that stretch but was able to reach only 90 due to heavy traffic.
After reaching Kamshet we were to take a beaten down track to Jambhoree, the village from which the trek was to start. LP took to the country road as fish to water and smoothed its way across the rough patchy road. We reached a bridge where everybody had stopped and took snaps. It was a lovely morning with the sun starting to flex its muscles. Another half an hour and we reached the village and took shelter in the small shop at the entrance. We parked our hot vehicles and bodies inside and had a healthy meal of pohe and tea. Now everybody was ready for the challenging task that lay ahead of us. We had to leave our bikes and start on a 3 hour trek towards a temple at the top of a huge cliff. We had GPRS (or is it GPS?) help from the gizmo surd- Simar Paul who gave regular updates on our speed and direction. Deepak, our shepherd led from the front to only where he alone knew he was taking us. We crossed open fields of grass and small “forests” of trees to a temple beside two ponds with the muckiest water in it. The temple adorned a Nandi bull in front and a shivling in its sanctum sanctorum. A leafless tree stood beside it, a mute testimony to the fact that winter had arrived. Keyur was showing the caves we had to reach through his binoculars and Prasanna was at his usual clownish best, regaling us with his PJs.
From the temple the journey became increasingly tiresome with the increase in steepness. The climb was made more difficult by the loose rocks. The frequent sound of gunshots from not very soothing too. We took ample snaps on the way and Arun clicked some short movies too.
At last we reached the cliff, and from there we had to go down a narrow gorge, the sight of which simply made most of us freak out. It was a kind of slit between two cliffs and almost vertical with stones filled in. It was dangerous even looking down. On top of that there were people coming from down. We started climbing down slowly and reached on the other side safely. It seemed to be like traveling down the hole that Alice traveled in wonderland. The sight down below was even more terrifying. On one side we had a huge cliff sticking out like a sore thumb and on the other we had vertical strip of rock. There were two caves cut out from the cliff where we rested to save us from the scorching sun. From there on only 4 brave souls decided to climb the vertical cliff and reach the Bhairoba Temple. I can’t describe how tiring or dangerous that journey must have been because I did not go. The rocks were like frying pans and the cliff was steep and they were reached the temple suspended only on ropes and belief. The lesser mortals spent 2 hrs singing Antakshri and playing cards.
By the time we started back it was late afternoon. We climbed back the gorge and then took the trail down to the village. I got severly dehydrated, cramped and my legs had pain written all over it. But I enjoyed the time when I rested myself and the strange sounds of the forest under the low light of the descending sun seemed to give an eerie feeling to everything around me. I limped my way back to the front of the pack. Its amazing how Jui, showed exceptional stamina during the whole trip.
Down at the village we refreshed ourselves for the journey with the simple but tasty food of “Pithle-Bhakri”, said goodbye and started on our journey back home. The rooster in the village gave a rousing goodbye as we started our bikes. The evening stars showed the way to our bikes. It was a tiring but a wonderful trip. With pain in our bodies but smiles on our faces we said goodbye to a memorable journey.

“Four Wheels drive the body, two wheels drive the soul”
-Anonymous

There is no joy greater than feeling the wind when you are riding a cruiser at 60 kmph. A relatively late entrant into motorcycling, I am devoted to it now. I own a Riviera-red Royal Enfield Thunderbird. This photograph was taken when I was attempting to ride my way to the top of a mountain while on way to Mulshi Dam. I fell way before reaching it and the bike broke down and I had a harrowing time. But that is life. I learnt important lessons that day
1. Treat your bike with respect and it will do the same.
2. Real men don’t break rules. They make rules.
3. If you want to enjoy be prepared to endure pain too

Keep coming for many more thundering posts.