Celebrating 25,000kms milestone at 7,350 feet above sea level at Nilgiris

The Ghost in the Data

I was scrolling through our ride logs, my mind drifting across the columns of data with no particular goal.

A random intuition—a strange pull to look back at where we’ve been. Then, my eyes locked on a single parameter, and it hit me then.

I knew exactly why I had opened that page.

By the time we pull into Chennai after finishing the Ooty ride this weekend, the Chennai Renegades will have officially crossed the 25,000-kilometer mark.

To some, 25,000kms might look small and insignificant.

To put that in a different perspective and understand the scale of 25,000Kms, look at the globe.

The Earth’s waistline is 40,075 kms.

We have effectively ridden 62% of the way around the planet.

 

In just over two years, Chennai Renegades have covered enough ground to cross the Arabian Sea, Africa, and the Atlantic, ending up in the deep South Pacific in the West or likely finished in the South Atlantic, drifting off the coast of Argentina or Brazil travelling towards East.

The distance from the frozen peaks of the North to the tip of Kanyakumari is roughly 3,214 kms. In this context, we have ridden the entire length of India nearly eight times over.

The Shadow on the Horizon and the call to clarity

As usual, our ride preparations had commenced two weeks prior—mapping the 36 hairpins and prepping the bikes for the climb.

But March had different plans and began in a grand manner with a bang in the Gulf countries.  Every one woke up to the news of a global conflict erupting between Iran and the US. Geopolitics isn’t just a headline; it flows directly into our fuel tanks. 

 

Two days before our departure, Chennai was engulfed in chaos.    

The news of the war triggered an artificial scarcity of petrol, as people started panic buying and the city became a sea of frantic queues.

The riders were getting overwhelmed; the “what ifs” began to spiral.

In a world shadowed by war and resource anxiety, we were no longer just fuelling our bikes; we were fuelling the fear.

Then came the call.  CRWC stepped in to calm the storm. 

It wasn’t just empty “don’t worry” messages; it went beyond that.

Calls were made to points enroute, gathering real-time intelligence on the ground situation, alternate plans were drawn, mapped out every “what if,” and looked at all the  backup options.

Ride Continuity Program (RCP) was put in place. We spoke to the panic-struck riders, grounding them in the facts: the ride is on.  The team would take any dynamic measures—adjusting stops, managing fuel reserves, and staying agile.

By chalking out a bulletproof strategy, the moment of crisis has been turned into a masterclass in coordination.

As expected, a day before the ride, things cooled down. The panic-struck crowds cleared off the roads, not knowing what to do with their stocked-up fuel. They retreated into their burrows as the city returned to a strange normalcy.  I still remember one guy being caught on the video purchasing 50liters of petrol in a plastic can.  I was wondering what that guy might being doing now with that fuel. 

While the world stayed grounded by its own anxiety, we remained focused on the horizon. Nothing could stop us from celebrating our 25,000 kms milestone, not a global war, not an artificial shortage, and certainly not a wave of panic. 

Here we come – Queen of Hill Stations.

The 5AM Call and No Man Left Behind

The day finally arrived. After the standard briefing and the traditional warding off the evil eye, the convoy thundered out of Guduvanchery at 4:30 AM. The mood was electric; the “fuel fear” was behind us, and the road to Ooty was open.

A few minutes into the ride, my display flashed “Incoming call– Abhilash”.

 

In a synchronized pack, a call from the Group 2 Lead this early is unusual and only means one thing: the road has claimed a toll.

Lord Murphy had struck.

 

A small stray iron rod, invisible in the predawn light, had dealt a devastating blow to Jiju’s bike. The sound over the comms was unmistakable—a sharp, violent impact that tore the tyre beyond repair and left the machine dead on the tarmac. 

 

One minute we were riding in style, and the next, Jiju is looking at the flat tyre like Prabhu in Chandramuki (சந்திரமுகி) saying, என்ன கொடுமை சரவணன் இது? (Enna kodumai Saravanan Idhu?).

 

While the other groups proceeded to contain the momentum, Group 2 faced the “ungodly hour” struggle. Roadside Assistance (RSA) was a distant hope, and the sleeping world was unwilling to help.

While the rest of us reached the first tea break, Group 2 was scrambling. It wasn’t until a fire station personnel understood our plight and offered a safe haven for the bike that the crisis was contained.

We lost the “Golden Hour.” We lost the chance to beat the morning rush. By the time the pack reunited at Thiyagadurgam, Group 2 had battled through thick morning traffic, with Jiju riding pillion with Sendhil with the vibe of Vadivelu (Kaipulla) in the movie Winner arriving in a tricyle pushed by his assistants and saying எடுடா வண்டிய! (“Edra Vandiya”) 😊 (just kidding).

The bikes weren’t just parked; they were fuming smoke like stallions pounding for breath after a fierce battle. You could smell the heat coming off the engines, the metallic scent of machines pushed to their limit to honor our unspoken rule:

No man is left behind.

 

Chasing the Sun

With the “stallions” finally rested and bikes refuelled, we began a high-stakes race against time.

We were chasing the ghost of that lost hour, pushing through the mid-day heat to reach our lunch spot.

But if the road was a battle of speed, the hotel was a battle of patience.

It was a classic holiday rush; the place was overflowing, and the service felt like it was moving in slow motion compared to our ride so far. What should have been a quick pit stop turned into a test of endurance as we waited for our food to arrive.

Most of us were asking the staff who walked past us 50 times up and down without serving a single plate of food, in Vadivelu style, “தம்பி….தயிர் சாதம் இன்னும் வரல!!” (trans: curd rice has not come yet!!!)

 

Santosh in his peak hunger moment was telling the waiter, “எதையாவது கொண்டு வாயா”.  (trans: Bring anything that you can serve fast).

 

Yet, the math of the Renegades is built on resilience. We swallowed the delay, refocused the pack, and pushed through. When we finally rolled into the resort in Ooty at 5:15 PM, the victory felt absolute.

Despite the global wars, the fuel panic, the iron rod, and the lunch-hour chaos, we arrived just one hour behind our original plan—the exact hour we sacrificed to ensure no man was left behind.

 

As the mountain chill started setting in, The evening was the perfect wrap, we gathered around a bonfire for post-ride discussions, cake cutting to celebrate the milestone, welcomed the new riders into the fold, watching as they transitioned from “new guys” to “Renegades”, followed by dinner and a hearty fun filled banter before winding down the day.

Malgudi in the Mountains: The Lovedale Stop

If Day 1 was a high-octane blockbuster, Day 2 was a beautifully shot indie film.

We started slow, letting the breakfast settle before leaning our bikes into the twisties and curls that led us to Lovedale Station.

The moment we pulled in, the world changed.

The station didn’t just feel like a stop; it felt like a portal into Malgudi Days. The red-tiled roof, the quiet tracks, and the crisp mountain air gave us a sense of peace that you simply can’t find in the city.

People took a lot of pictures there—shots of the bikes against the heritage backdrop, group photos on the platform, railway tracks and many candid smiles. These are the frames we will cherish long after the dust settles.

We took the “not-so-explored” route back into Ooty—the kind of road a Renegade thrives on—finding hidden corners of the Nilgiris before stopping for lunch.

After the lunch, the afternoon became a blur of hunting for the famous Ooty Varkey and artisanal chocolates.

On the way back to the resort, I decided to stop at Ketti Railway Station.

My timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

 

I stepped onto the platform just as the legendary Toy Train pulled in. Seeing that steam and steel arrive at such a quiet, isolated station gave me a profound sense of nostalgia. It was the perfect bookend to the day—the soul of the journey is found in these timeless, “not-so-explored” moments.  

By early evening, everyone was back at the resort, trading riding boots for cricket bats. On the lawn, we played a few innings of cricket, the mountain air making every run feel like a victory.

The Final Frame

The evening was the perfect wrap for the ride.  As the stars came out, around a crackling bonfire, the karaoke mic became our stage and everyone took turns to sing their hearts out.

We’ve finished the first act of this epic. We’ve shown what grit looks like when the world gets loud and the tyres go flat. As Goundamani would say, அரசியல்ல இதெல்லாம் சாதாரணமப்பா  “Arasiyalla ithellam saatharnamappa!”—this is just another day in the life of a Renegade.

This is just the trailer.  As the dialogue goes in the movie Om Shanti Om, “Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost!!!” .

 

Post ride credits

Direction & Script                                                    The Road

Lead                                                                         All the riders who took the grit on  

                                                                                 their chin and conquered

Supported by                                                          The trust worthy bikes

Department of Chaos                                             Lord Murphy, Chief Sabotage Officer

                                                                                 The Iron Rod, Assistant Sabotage

Department of Rescue and Resolve                      Fire station personnel, Chief Saviour

                                                                                 Jiju & Suriya, Stuntmen 

                                                                                 (pillion for 500+kms)

                                                                                 Sendhil & Lakshmi, 

                                                                                 Stunt Assistants (Pilot for pillion)

Special effects                                                        The petrol bunk queues

                                                                                 The “What-if” news cycle

Not Hospitality                                                         The Waiters at Annapoorna who 

                                                                                  walked past us at least 50 times 

                                                                                  without serving a single plate of food

Atmosphere                                                              Love Dale station

Music                                                                        Karaoke singers

Background score                                                    Collective thump of 27 bikes 

                                                                                   on the road

Cameo appearance                                                  Toy train at Ketti station

Location courtesy                                                    Queen of Hill Stations, Nilgiris