Pranav Bhat
By
For the restless soul that I am, my mind is most often pre-occupied in planning and dreaming about the next adventure to take up.
Ladakh, was my paramount yearning.
Having spent a month in the Surreal land for the first time in 2013, I began questioning everything I believed in, then.
On returning home the ignited venturer in me was craving for the next big adventure. It had to be wild. No maps, no guide books, no itineraries; A free to will and situation kind of a journey. Meeting new people, interacting, learning, understanding;
For not having seen the whole of Karnataka yet, I decided to venture into Rural Karntaka, the country side per se. The plan was to take my time in selected towns and villages en-route Hampi and explore the Historic land.
On what? my rusty old Hercules Act 107.
Day 1: The begining (130 km)
I left my home on 5th Sept 2013 sharp at 6am.
I had a small 'send-off' by a gathering of friends and well wishers in front of the Palace gates. I needed the encouragement from people who meant dear to me for what I was about to do was no peice of cake.
Swift strokes, cool morning air and I was out of the city in no time and on my way to Hassan, the first stop; via State Highway 88. Just at the outskirts of Mysore city, I realized I was running on an almost flat tire. Hesistant to remove the carfully but precariously packed tool kit among the rest of the luggage(my first mistake) I decided to hit one of the fuel stations on the highway for a refill. Not motivated by the rupee or two that they will be getting, the fellow at every bunk refused to get out of his cozy chair and give a refill. Each one giving a more stupid reason than the other -'No power', 'pump not working saar', etc etc..
They neither cared about the attire I was in nor wondered why I was cycling with luggage in the back. They were just lazy.
Irritated and cursing about the not so good begining for my journey I removed all my luggage and seperated the tool kit.
A few minutes later, I was back on the road, this time with a better planned packing. I soon entered the country side to make out the difference in the air. It's smell, lightness and soothing.
Yagachi dam was my first pit stop.
Without wasting much time, I cycled on with just one lunch plus nap break in a dhaba en-route.Just after night fall, I reached Hassan. I had completed the first 140 Km of my journey.
Day 2: Long winding roads (120 km)
After 10 Hours of sleep, I got back on the road at 6am. Exiting the town, I entered the narrow and so called "National Highway 206". As far as I remember, I didn't have much company en-route except the few helmetless bikers passing by with a curious face, awe-struck about my attire. Few made the attempt of interogation. I call it interogation because that is exactly how it sounded to me. Quick and to the point questions: Where are you going? Are you alone? Why are you doing this? Where are you coming from? Where are the rest? were the common and most repeated questions.
But only a handful would continue further, with a friendly tone. The most interesting questions would be, as far as I remember:
Is it a relious oath/vow that you have pledged?
- A tea stall lady near Tarikere
Is it a race?
- A curious kid
Are you America? (the exact words)
- A helmetless biker on NH13
Has the government sponsored you?
- An old man behind the milk booth in Hassan
Are you running away?
- A sweat old lady who cooked my meal on the way to Chittradhurga
I finished the 120 Km quites late, I remember, reaching the guest house in Tarikere by 8 pm. But the route is among the highlights of the trip.
Day 3: To Chitradurga (120 Km)
This leg of the journey took me through vast grass lands, along sun flower fields and never ending streches of farm land on NH13.
It was a happy day.
Cool, breezy, good road, good weather, timely food, occasional coconut water and plenty of rest. My mood started shifting towards the cheerful side;
I finished the 120 Km quite early today, reaching Chitradurga by 5pm.
I was under the gentle care of an old couple here. A retired college professor by profession, the humble host was happy to have me at his house as he shared my interest for raw adventure.
At the age of 86 he still makes sure that he takes his yearly trip up north to the mighty Himalayas, not deterred by his age or health.
I had a great deal to learn from him. Having loved the happy couple and their hospitality, I extended my stay at their house for another day and made sure I visit them again on my way back.
I had the luxury of a quick tour of the town on the back of a Bajaj Chetak, thanks to Prof. Basavaraju sir. He truly is a role model for his optmistic approach towards life.
Day 5: To the Historical land of Hampi (130 km)
After a much needed comfortable break, I was back on the road towards Hampi. On the way through the country side, a pecular event occurred.
A fellow in a fuel station shouted out to me as if he knew me. Surprised, I went close to find out that my tyres were low on air again.
After a short conversation, he offered a refill for my tyres. Meanwhile, he even sponsored a hot cup of tea and some biscuits. This made me realise the difference between the city folk, always trying to get a score out of everything and the rural folk who value hardship and human relationships more than money.
The heritage land welcomed me with a wet weather. All the goods trucks passing by sprayed a wave of muddy water for the road was so narrow I had no option of getting away.
Hampi was much more vibrant and eventful than I imagined it to be.
After spending two glorious days in Hospet and Kamalapur, I headed back home taking three days to reach Mysore via Chitradurga and Tumkur.
