Border Run: - A short travelogue of a ride from Pune to the Karnataka Border and back!
Way back in the early 70’s when a lot of criminals in the USA wanted to escape the hand of law, they often made what was termed was a run southbound towards the border, to get into Mexico. I too wanted to escape the humdrum of busy urban life, frantically striking at the keys on my laptop to churn out e-mails and endless project reports detailing performances of others and hardly reflecting the fact that it was me who was being pushed into performing all that while. A couple of friends had gone to Hampi a day before on the same road and were returning back that day, so this ride also served as an excuse to meet up with them and ride back. So on a Sunday after a good cuppa tea and some munchies to start the day I headed off on the NH 4 from Pune city towards Bangalore
The road also called as Satara road by most puneites is a stretch which starts off at Pune and goes around the outskirts of the city straight towards the town of Satara. Riding astride my Pulsar 180 DTSi, a motorcycle which has been around for quite some time and perhaps is today one of the most popular steeds used for touring around the countryside.
Snaking outside the city via a rather famous rendezvous point called Chandni Chowk (Not the legendary one at Old Delhi), the National Highway No 4, splits into two and the bypass takes it via a long and magnificent tunnel towards Satara.
Way back in the early 70’s when a lot of criminals in the USA wanted to escape the hand of law, they often made what was termed was a run southbound towards the border, to get into Mexico. I too wanted to escape the humdrum of busy urban life, frantically striking at the keys on my laptop to churn out e-mails and endless project reports detailing performances of others and hardly reflecting the fact that it was me who was being pushed into performing all that while. A couple of friends had gone to Hampi a day before on the same road and were returning back that day, so this ride also served as an excuse to meet up with them and ride back. So on a Sunday after a good cuppa tea and some munchies to start the day I headed off on the NH 4 from Pune city towards Bangalore
The road also called as Satara road by most puneites is a stretch which starts off at Pune and goes around the outskirts of the city straight towards the town of Satara. Riding astride my Pulsar 180 DTSi, a motorcycle which has been around for quite some time and perhaps is today one of the most popular steeds used for touring around the countryside.
Snaking outside the city via a rather famous rendezvous point called Chandni Chowk (Not the legendary one at Old Delhi), the National Highway No 4, splits into two and the bypass takes it via a long and magnificent tunnel towards Satara.
Once outside the Tunnel, one stares down a dual carriage way spread out like a giant asphalt snake over the horizon. Gunning for speed down this road I passed a lot of small hamlets and villages. One good thing which was certainly a big relief during high speed runs on such good roads was the absence of traffic. Luckily being Sunday the traffic was pretty much at its minimum and the roads actually had flyovers at all busy junctions especially when passing through villages. But we being the ever so adventurous Indians I saw people actually cross the dam road walking, rather jaywalking across the flyover. How can anyone drill some sense into their heads telling them that the small passage under the road is for them to walk through not for dogs to crawl in and doze off! Somehow despite some freaky daredevils wanting to do quarter mile runs across the highway on “foot”, carrying a huge load on their head and a child tucked under the arm, I still managed to cover the first century of kilometres absolutely incident free. Enroute was the amazing ‘one-way’ Khambatki ghats which was an effortless climb. Zigzagging through slow Trucks lumbering uphill and crazily driven Indica’s blowing their horn and trying to squeeze through every other gap, the ascent up the ghats was one helluva ride. This section of the ghats is undoubtedly one of the best roads to test the curve hugging skills of the rider and road holding and flickability of the bike. Once down the ghats, it was again a straight run towards Satara. It was here that I passed through the legendary town of Satara, the Ajinkyatara fort actually overlooking the highway creating a majestic silhouette against the clear blue winter sky. Maharashtra is a land of quite a number of heritage forts and practically every city somehow boasts of its place in the Maratha heritage.
A short break just after Satara served as a fuelling stop for the bike as well as for me as I chewed on the standard snack – vada pav – available all over this area and a hot steaming cup of cutting chai. One astonishing fact is that despite inflation and other economic ups and downs, the breakfast today in most parts of the country can easily be done in just under a tenner! Post Satara, it was a mad rush towards Kolhapur as the roads widened or at least seemed so. Cruising comfortable around 8000 rpm a rather good speed was maintained on the road as I passed through the SUGAR countryside. This region perhaps makes most of the sugar produced in India. The air was filled with the pungent smell of molasses and the typical sugar mill smell. There were umpteen bullock carts carrying tons and tons of sugarcane towards the mills for processing. For better facilitation of traffic I noticed a pair of service roads on both sides of the highway where slower moving vehicles separated out from the mad rush of the highway.
After Kolhapur the NH4 became more or less monotonous with even the curves up the next ghats being 6 lanes and a very slow and gradual curve. That was way too tempting to resist as I swung the bike into a knee scraping curve and into a blind turn only to come face to face with about 50 odd sheep running helter skelter all over the road and one sheepish shepherd trying to gather them together wielding on nimble stick. GOSH! This could be one helluva traffic hazard as most of us have faced on highways; Animals ranging from small cats and dogs to even the occasional buffalo, who just decides to stroll across the road with absolutely no knowledge of the traffic or any concern for their own lives.
It was here that I noticed high speed cross winds as there was complete barren land on both sides. Someone had come up with the bright idea of harnessing this immense wind power and had installed huge windmills to generate electricity from that.
I had already put more then 300 kms behind me and it looked like I was nearing the Karnataka border. The road signs in English started sounding more like translations from original vernacular statements. Most of the signs now were in Kannada and since I had already left Nipani behind, which perhaps is the last town from Maharashtra I could sense I was probably in Karnataka. The road was now becoming more and more boring as it was late in the afternoon and most of the people were off the tarmac, perhaps enjoying a nice siesta. The road too was concrete at most places, absolutely smooth as if picked up straight from an airfield. The vast desolate expanse stretching for miles looked like a blank canvas adorned with small specks of greenery and occasional colourful houses displaying huge billboards of oil, battery, cement and other automotive products. Right through the centre of the landscape ran the highway like a midriff of a leaf rising up and down like a sinusoidal wave. The road was so clear and smooth that it enticed me to twist my wrist a little more.
One thing I would advise all here is that before you actually open the throttle and look forward seeing the horizon rush towards you at infinite speed, also keep and eye on the rear view mirror as there are some high speed cars and Innovas which are silent enough to actually come up close and ambush you. I got startled by one such crazy bugger who decided to overtake me without the mandatory 'honk-honk day flash' manoeuvre. And when some of these smart a** wanna be Schumacher’s goof up, what we notice on the road are long black skid marks, and sometimes a vehicle turned turtle.
By this time I had already crossed Belgaum and the air was filled with raw tobacco smell. I spotted the Mangalore beedi manufacturing factory and another huge factory at Sankeshwar billowing out black smoke. Being close to the National highway which is the lifeline for most transport systems, these factories must be benefiting a lot in terms of getting their products on the move.
Post Belgaum it was another stretch of real smooth roads towards Dharwad and I just carried on. Finally it was time to attend to the mice in my tummy, as they call it and I settled down for a delicious scrumptious meal at a place called Gokul Hotel beside the highway. Keeping with the traditional Udupi style, this hotel served good meals the only problem being everything tasted like sambar. As I was halfway through the meal I noticed a cavalcade of motorcycles moving towards Belgaum on the other side of the highway. I couldn’t help but notice them as they were looking grand. Once the juggernaut has rolled past I realise these were my friends with whom I was supposed to catch up and I had missed them. GOSH! I simply downed whatever remained of the food and took off in search of a ‘U’ turn as I now had to get to the other side. Finally I managed to find of the many subways which allow smaller vehicles to go under the highway and come out on the other side. So there was I gunning for the group which had already started moving off towards Pune. Adrenalin mixed with fuel did the trick and despite having put a good 10 kms between us I managed to catch up with them just between Belgaum and Kolhapur.
On the return journey I spotted the border check post between Karnataka and Maharashtra at a place called Kagal. Surprisingly nothing changed as I transitioned from one state to another. I have moved between states earlier also and have noticed drastic changes in the landscape, road surface texture as administration and culture changes across the borders. Here surprisingly there was a certain uniformity and it worked to my advantage as I could hold good speeds, the wind brushing against my visor, gloves and jacket shoulder pads creating almost a streak like effect found in comic books.
One thing I would advise all here is that before you actually open the throttle and look forward seeing the horizon rush towards you at infinite speed, also keep and eye on the rear view mirror as there are some high speed cars and Innovas which are silent enough to actually come up close and ambush you. I got startled by one such crazy bugger who decided to overtake me without the mandatory 'honk-honk day flash' manoeuvre. And when some of these smart a** wanna be Schumacher’s goof up, what we notice on the road are long black skid marks, and sometimes a vehicle turned turtle.
By this time I had already crossed Belgaum and the air was filled with raw tobacco smell. I spotted the Mangalore beedi manufacturing factory and another huge factory at Sankeshwar billowing out black smoke. Being close to the National highway which is the lifeline for most transport systems, these factories must be benefiting a lot in terms of getting their products on the move.
Post Belgaum it was another stretch of real smooth roads towards Dharwad and I just carried on. Finally it was time to attend to the mice in my tummy, as they call it and I settled down for a delicious scrumptious meal at a place called Gokul Hotel beside the highway. Keeping with the traditional Udupi style, this hotel served good meals the only problem being everything tasted like sambar. As I was halfway through the meal I noticed a cavalcade of motorcycles moving towards Belgaum on the other side of the highway. I couldn’t help but notice them as they were looking grand. Once the juggernaut has rolled past I realise these were my friends with whom I was supposed to catch up and I had missed them. GOSH! I simply downed whatever remained of the food and took off in search of a ‘U’ turn as I now had to get to the other side. Finally I managed to find of the many subways which allow smaller vehicles to go under the highway and come out on the other side. So there was I gunning for the group which had already started moving off towards Pune. Adrenalin mixed with fuel did the trick and despite having put a good 10 kms between us I managed to catch up with them just between Belgaum and Kolhapur.
On the return journey I spotted the border check post between Karnataka and Maharashtra at a place called Kagal. Surprisingly nothing changed as I transitioned from one state to another. I have moved between states earlier also and have noticed drastic changes in the landscape, road surface texture as administration and culture changes across the borders. Here surprisingly there was a certain uniformity and it worked to my advantage as I could hold good speeds, the wind brushing against my visor, gloves and jacket shoulder pads creating almost a streak like effect found in comic books.
A quick break between Kolhapur and Karad for a cup of tea and some sandwiches was enough to refresh the senses. Darkness had already started setting in and since we had a couple of bikes equipped with HID headlights we were sure of at least having a well illuminated way back home. The return journey was devoid of any exceptional action besides some group manoeuvring through traffic as the group of motorcyclists stuck together while riding. With the sunlight faded away even the sights and sounds of the surroundings were gone. All that remained was the strong glare of truck headlights staring us right in the face and numerous tail-lamps glowing in a single line as slow traffic crawled towards Pune.
Finally I landed back into the city around 10 at the night having covered well over 700 kilometres in my mad dash for freedom, for my Mexico...in my BORDER RUN and back!
Was it essential ..Guess somewhere it was as its but a small measure of peace that all of us seek and only the lucky few get...
