Muffled breathing within my helmet. A trickle of sweat runs down my cheek onto my neck. It’s 4 AM but the Chennai Summer heat hangs in the air, accentuated by the array of gear I wear from head to foot. As I step into the basement parking, a familiar welcome sight. A sleek, matte black machine. With the black swept up windshield and the graceful curves of the tank. Duchess of Madras. My Honda CB350.
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As she roars to life (yes, I personify my bikes ), I wait patiently for the auto choke to cut off and the idling to stabilise. I throw her in gear and roll out. I meet with Maran, about 2 kms down, and we roll off into the Inner Ring Road, cruising at an easy 80 kmph. As I get off the highway and approach the start point, The Blue Blitz, Srini, was already waiting. A man of meticulous planning and enthusiasm, he had spent the previous weeks, carrying out recon runs and nailing the plan down to the last detail. So much so was the planning that Ghost would later joke that the Blitz would even plan when each man would take a loo break.
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As I wait for the other riders to assemble, I feel a gnawing unease rise. The same that I’d been pushing down for the past week.
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No senior marshals.
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Lead and Tail. Both to be done by newer Renegades. I was probably somewhere in the middle in terms of experience. Whilst I had enough belief about my skill on the saddle, it wasn’t the same when it came to decision making on the fly. I had a tendency to make hasty calls, and a sense of protectiveness over the group that could quickly switch to rage over a reckless biker or car that might cut into our group or pose a hazard. I could almost hear Santo on his Speed Twin, telling me to calm down. But no. He was far away, weaving through the dense jungles of Gods own country.
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I snap back to the present and brief the group. Pranav would be tailing group 1. Abhi leading my group 2. Srini for group 1 and I’d be final tail. As I signal the group the gear up, I notice that one rider was late. Few calls and no response. I notice the black of the night slowly cracking into deep purple. Day would approach soon, and with it, the summer heat. I call for the group to move. The late rider would have to play catch up. We drop him a message to ride safe and start rolling.
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Twenty riders cut through the urban roads , cutting and weaving past rubble and potholes. Soon we’re on the highway doing good speed. As daylight breaks the group stops for a quick cup of coffee, and the lone rider catches up. In ten minutes we continue rolling , doing good speed. As we turn off into the Tirupathi highway, I watch with bated breath, the sight of arguably the most revered hill in the world, sitting shrouded in the clouds. It’s a beautiful sight.
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A straight line of nineteen bikes in front of me roaring towards the foothill. The azure blue sky and the clouds dancing around us.
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In an hour and half we’re at the destination. Chandragiri. A 16th century fort built by the Vijayanagara kings. After guffawing at the monkeys ransacking the empty tank bags on our bikes. As is custom we have an introductory session for the novice riders followed up with a ride breakdown. We then go around exploring the museum that houses the mostly broken down artefacts. The pathway to the fort itself is apparently shut off for safety reasons.
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The sun has quietly come up and before we know it, the notorious Andhra heat is upon us. Dry and sweltering. Stay too long and you’ll end up with heat stroke. We quickly pack up and start the ride back. As we merge into the highway I see a newbie falling back. His bungee has loosened . I signal the pack to move on and quickly fasten the bungee for him whilst explaining the proper technique . Goutham on his Bonnie T120, fondly known as the Locomotive, has also stopped with us. As we continue to ride on, the group is nowhere to be seen. After a couple of kilometres I decide that I have to play catch-up . I signal for the new rider to stick behind at a safe distance and drop gears.
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2. Duchess lets out a guttural roar, spitting back gravel and sand as she tears down the road. Shift. 3. I again pin the throttle as she climbs steadily and redlines at a 110. Shift. 4. I pin her again. She does not complain. I take her to the edge of her limits, tearing down the highway, slowing only enough to keep the rider behind me in the mirror. And surprisingly he does an excellent job of keeping up. I prayed that the lead had slowed down his roll and just as doubt of whether we had overshot a turn starts gnawing, I noticed the kilometre long chrome snake winding away slowly in the distance. As I let off the throttle, my lady breathes a sigh of relief. I smile knowing this wasn’t the first nor the last time we did the catch-up dance. And Duchess would always be ready to tango. As we catchup and keep riding I can’t help but admire how well the new riders have all stuck firm. We seem to have caught a bunch with good riding prowess and stamina.
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We would continue to ride for another 2 hours in the heat, getting absolutely toasted. But at the end, the final picture we take before bidding adieu just bears testament to the fun we had. Dirty, sweaty faces with wide beaming smiles. And in the end, we had got everyone back safely. That’s what matters and it would continue in the future.
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Ride With Pride!
1 thought on “Ride to Chandragiri fort”
Duchess and your writing are a great combination to travel and read.