In Which We Find That 12 Hour Rides are Nice and Tiring

Up and away then, from the little lodge in Chitradurga, at eight in the morning.
A fresh start, a decent amount of rest. It's not too hot, it's not too cold - there's a gentle breeze on our faces.
GT's at the wheel and he's clocking a regular 80 kmph.
And on. Stop for breakfast at that blessed petrol pump in Rane Bennur, and ride on.
On through Haveri, through Hubli, through Belgaum, through Nippani, on to Kolhapur. Where we had lunch.

And on again.

This is pretty much what really long bike rides are about. Eating up mile after mile after mile of road. The scenery changes itself every few kilometers or so, but in unhurried fashion. Distant fields roll by, some people working in them looking up every now and then. Truckers pass you, and you pass them a few minutes later - the helper sitting in the seat adjacent to the driver, looking at you in frank curiosity as you pass him by. Stop every now and then for a cup of chai, and the flexing of the knees and the unclenching of the butt. Keep an eye out on the road, keep an eye out for potholes, speedbreakers etc.Wiggle your toes, flex your knees, hunch your shoulders, move your neck around. Look up to the sky, look up ahead. Check the rear view mirror. Every now and then, put your hand close enough to the enginge to see if she's heating up. Take a deep breath. And ride on.

Every now and then, the universe sends along some entertainment. Ours came in the form of two men on a bike - with a goat in between. The goat was at right angles to the bike, and had a rather puzzled look on it's face - "I don't know. I really don't know." types. The men, on the other hand, seemed to regard the whole thing as a perfectly normal occurence.

Lunch done at Kolhapur, we were back on the highway. Having been on the road for about fifteen hours, we were pretty tired by now. Peak her at a 100 kmph, forget all else and ride. Satara, Karad, the turn off for Mahabaleshwar, the Khambatki Ghat, Shirval - all just signposts on the road. Ride on and on and on.

And finally, 12 hours after riding pretty much continuously, we were finally in Pune. Home sweet home, a nice hot shower, hot food and a couple of pegs of whisky.

And then we climbed into the bus that would take us to Jalgaon. Found it to be a sleeper. In other words, instead of seats, we had nice wide bunkers. An eight hour journey, and the prospect of pleasant slumber.

Nice.

And then we found that we had the last seats in the bus. And barely five minutes after the bus started we hit the first speed breaker.

Oh fug.

Oh fug. Oh fug. Oh fug.