Introduction
New experiences are the ingredients for creativity. And I try to have as many as possible. I love traveling, meeting new people, and challenging myself. With my new job and living in a new country, everyday is something new. And recently I had one of those “bucket list” experiences that was not just amazing, but terrifying, exhausting, and inspirational. I rode a motorcycle for about five days in India. With three other co-workers, we rode from Mumbai to Goa, on the west coast.
Not only was this a great personal experience, but was a fast immersion into the Indian market that I am now responsible for. The ride not only helped me to better understand the Indian market, but allowed me to see areas of the country that most people would never see. And the trip was not just about riding, but we also conducted research. On the trip we visited several Royal Enfield motorcycle dealers to understand their business better, and identify new opportunities.
The goal of the trip was to experience Indian roads to understand what our actual customers experience. But also to visit a few dealers and understand their business and talk about some new product ideas. The destination was Rider Mania 2019. Rider Mania is one of the largest motorcycle events in India, and about 10,000 Royal Enfield enthusiasts converge on the resort town of Goa to enjoy all things bikes as well as party for a few days. Rider Mania is a gathering of about 10,000 Royal Enfield enthusiasts, for a few days of partying, racing, and everything bikes. Think of Sturgis, but in India and with no lawyers.
Now I had only been to India once before, and that was only for about three days. I had only been in a taxi on Indian roads which was intimidating enough to be in the traffic and road chaos. But I had not ridden a motorcycle or even driven a car there, so it was going to be all new. And to make matters worse, I had not been on a road bike for a long time. Well, you might as well jump in head first.
And It Begins
We arrived in Mumbai very late, and did not get to sleep until about 3pm. The next morning our bikes were already at the hotel and we started our journey around 10am. I was groggy and very nervous. The videos I watched about riding in India did not help my confidence. It had been a while since I had ridden a street bike, and having to ride in India was very intimidating. And not to help, my boss led our small group and was wide-open throttle (WOT) zooming through traffic as we escaped the city.
Indian road rules, do not really exist. Cars, bikes, trucks, and motorcycles swerve constantly. Most people drift from lane-to-lane, and the honking of horns are ways to let people know you are passing, that you are pissing them off, or just for the hell of it. Most drivers do not care about driving on the wrong side of the road either. So you have to pay attention to oncoming cars, trucks, and buses barreling towards you on YOUR side of the road. It does not help to have jet lag while trying not to die.
Beyond vehicles, you have to keep an eye out for cows, dogs, and pedestrians who do not care to look if anyone is coming or how fast you are barreling towards them. On our trip we did not really have much drama with the dogs, but as we got further into the mountains, the cows were not as familiar with motorcycles as those in the city, so making our way through herds in the middle of the roads was a case of hoping the cows would not charge. I just never made eye contact hoping to not enrage them. I don’t know if it mattered, but I only had one or two instances where a cow or calf seemed ready to charge. So luckily the cows left us alone. But let’s talk about the actual roads.
Day 1
On this trip the road gods were not kind. The roads in India are notorious for poor conditions, and we seemed to hit almost all the bad roads in western India. I was on a Classic 500 that does not have the supplest ride under good conditions, let alone when traversing crumbling roads. I thought I had ridden in shitty conditions before, but this was like nothing I ever experienced – and I have been riding over 35 years. As India seems to be under constant construction, most roads felt like an endless journey through construction zones. Massive holes, broken pavement, oily water, and never-ending construction zones. Not the best with a bad neck and back.
Dirt and gravel, oncoming traffic on the wrong side of the road, and constant passing and swerving, made me think of how my friends must feel when racing the Baja 1000. If you think the 405 freeway in southern California is bad, imagine it was completely destroyed, add an assortment of animals, vehicles on the wrong side of the road, and people causally walking across as you approach at 60mph and you get a sense of Indian roads. I was not in Kansas anymore.
It was bad enough in the day, but on our first day as we rode in the mountains, got lost, then backtracked, it soon grew dark. Now, my eyesight is not the best, but this was the wrong time to realize my new glasses sucked in the dark. Too much glare. So as the sun set, we still had about 4 hours until we reached our hotel. So I could not see very well, was riding way too stiff due to fear, and the worst part was not being able to see the potholes. Well, “pothole” is a nice term. These were not the typical potholes we are used to in the US. These were big, sharp angled holes which you did not see until the bike slammed into them. Now do this for several hours, with jetlag, and basically blind, and you start to question what you’re doing.
Sure, I could have stopped and said “I’m done, fuck this!” But it would not have helped. We were in the middle of nowhere, this was only my first month on the job, and being an idiot, I could not let myself be perceived as a pussy. Yes, I have issues. So on, and on we went. Through construction zones where the night air was filled with dust, making visibility even worse. Now this was only the first day and we had already ridden about 10 hours. My neck was aching and I wanted to kill my boss, but we had to get to the hotel. And we had three more days until we reached Goa. No time to cry. Onward.
About three hours later, we still had not reached our hotel. We were in the middle of nowhere and I was sure we were lost. The problem was my boss, who was leading this, was the only one with a phone mount to figure out our route. I was sure he had no idea where we were going, and the other two riders with us were also getting frustrated as exhaustion took over. Somehow we found the hotel in the middle of the mountains and had dinner. I took a shower and went to sleep – after eating several pain killers and stealing as much ice as possible from the hotel’s kitchen, to hope my neck would not seize up by the morning.
Day 2
The next morning I realized we were in the middle of a really amazing wildlife park. My neck was killing me, but luckily it still moved. So after breakfast, a few chai teas, and more pain killers, it was back on the bikes. This time I was ready after my introduction the day before. As we started riding, my off-road skills (not much) came back, so I was not holding onto the handlebar in a death grip and was looking as far ahead as possible to avoid the holes. Relaxing and avoiding target fixation allowed me to avoid most road obstacles and my neck started to feel better. Passing buses and trucks with little room to spare, was soon the norm and I was getting used to the chaos. And then cockiness set in.
Now my boss, our group “leader” was typically out of site as he was in heaven and jamming to tunes in his helmet. And I started to get confident. Big mistake! And soon I realized the other two in our group were pretty far behind me. They were both on cruisers and were getting beat-to-hell with the road conditions. So off I went enjoying the scenery and getting in the groove of riding in India. Passing on the wrong side, dodging cows, overtaking buses and trucks, and just doing the “Indian thing”. As I came upon the millionth construction zone, I attempted to pass a bus on the left (we were riding on the left side of the road) and realized that was not going to work. So instead of being patient. I tried to pass on the right as a huge truck came at me. Now granted, I was in his lane, but that is just what you do in India. As I hesitated, I realized I would not be able to fit between the bus and truck, so decided to quickly go off the road on the right side and just wait until traffic passed. The problem was as I went off the road, I hit the front brake too hard, and wham, went down hard. I was okay, but my right leg was trapped under the bike and I was stuck. Luckily a bunch of people on motorcycles and scooters stopped, picked the bike up, and helped me to my feet. When they realized it was an old white guy, they kind of freaked out and was genuinely concerned about me. I was fine, but the bike would not start. Then my riding buddies arrived.
They did not even realize I was the cause of all the mayhem, but saw me, stopped, and tried to figure out what happened. As the bike would not start, they just thought it stopped running, until they saw me covered in dirt. There was now about 10 guys around the bike trying to get it started, but fuel was pouring out the fuel pump. This was not how I wanted to start day 2. Not to mention I was more embarrassed than hurt. Especially as we had an appointment to visit a dealer and this was going to throw the entire day’s plans off. We finally got the bike started but everyone insisted I stop at the next village and have a mechanic check the bike out.
Well, two hours later it was sort of repaired and we were on our way. We arrived at the dealer about one hour late, had a good interview, they repaired the bike, but night was coming quick. I was not psyched to ride at night again. The night before was really horrendous and I did not want to do that again. But we stopped for dinner and then we had to ride about two more hours in the dark, luckily on a nice, smooth highway. Well, don’t let the condition of the road fool you.
As we started riding towards our hotel, I realized it was not just back country Indian roads that were awful, but now the highway was another experience I had not expected. Yes, there were no potholes or road construction, but there were other ways to skirt death. I thought I went through my nine lives the day and night before, but there was more to come. As we were zooming along in the dark, I realized there were cows and dogs in the median. Luckily they seemed to realize to stay in place, and not venture into the road. But it is still unnerving having cows a few feet away in the dark, at high speeds. And with my shitty night vision, coming up on trucks with no rear lights was a serious “pucker” moment. Yes, all the freakin’ trucks had no rear lights!
And then there were the people on scooters going about 30mph that you would not see until you almost hit them. But the worst part was the pedestrians. Yes, freaking pedestrians crossing a major, six lane highway. And not running across, casually walking. And not wearing bright colors, but just your black and dark blue attire. And I thought this would be a bit more relaxing.
A few hours later we pulled off the exit onto basically a pile of dirt. I stopped to figure out the best line, when one of the riders in the group lost her balance and fell over. I knew that was going to be me, so luckily I held back. I did not want to crash again. We now rode through the city in another haze of exhaustion and finally reached the hotel. Another 10-12 hour day in the saddle was over. I was not having much fun. But my boss was having the time of his life. More ice and pain killers. I kept praying my neck would stay somewhat flexible for a few more days.
Day 3
For some reason I thought we only had about 5 hours until we reached Goa. Wrong! We did some sightseeing and more back country riding in some amazing areas. We hiked in a tiger sanctuary – if you did not already realize, we were not the brightest group – and dodged packs of monkeys hanging out in the mountain roads. We were in the middle of nowhere, the roads were somewhat better, but the views were really amazing. And, I was getting paid!
We stopped for lunch at a small roadside café as we left the sanctuary. We had omelets, rolls, and chai tea. For four people the bill came to about $2. Yes, India is still really cheap. I was feeling good, popped a few more pain killers and then realized we had about 6 more hours to reach Goa. Mentally I was done. But I could not turn back, nor just give up. My ex-Army Ranger father would never forgive me for “pussing out”. And I had no choice. So off we went.
It seemed like we were riding forever. With more construction zones, massive potholes, endless buses almost killing us, it then started to rain. What next, snow? But then finally the gods appeared. We came upon a brand new, shiny, smooth beautiful highway. Thank god! Now we could start to make-up some time. As we wound-up the bikes to max, mile after mile passed by. I was hoping to make it to Goa before dark.
Well, we kept on riding and Goa did not seem to get any closer. Now the whole point of this trip was to visit dealers and ride to Goa to attend Rider Mania. We rolled into town as the sun was setting and I was really starting to fade. We stopped for gas and ice cream, and I thought we were in Goa. Wrong.
Goa was still another hour away. So as it got dark, we were now riding in tons of traffic. Not only were there thousands of bikes on the road, but the usual cars, trucks, buses, and cows. Goa is a huge vacation spot so the bikers were not the only tourists. All I wanted to do was go to the hotel, but my boss decided to go straight to the festivities. I was glad I had started meditating every day, because I was close to losing my shit. Hungry, tired, and grumpy was not a good combination to start my new job.
We arrived at Rider Mania and walked around for a while. Me and the other two riders just wanted to leave so we finally escaped and rode back to the hotel. Now we were in Goa, but the streets were very narrow, bikes and cars were everywhere, and I could not really see well. We got to the hotel finally, and I was done for the night. My boss wanted to go back out but I said no and just went back to my room. I ate at the hotel’s restaurant, got more ice, more pain killers, and finally slept.
Rider Mania
We had reached our destination, Rider Mania 2019. I have been to a lot of bike events but this was my first experience of how the Indians do it. And they did not disappoint. Riders from all over Indian came to party and share their love of all things bikes and Royal Enfield. There were concerts, races, various competitions, bike shows, vendors, and beer. Lots of beer. I mean, lots of beer.
Now, I remember the good old days in the States where Sturgis, Daytona, and Loudon were full of beer drinking, fighting, and lawlessness. But those days are over. Gotta love lawyers and common sense. But no one told the Indians. Even when I was young, stupid and partied hard, I NEVER rode a bike drunk, not even a sip of booze. I knew it was too risky. But no one told the Indians. Everyone was slamming beers and riding. Oh well, have fun and be safe.
It was dusty and hot as I spent each day walking around the massive parking lot interviewing owners about what they like and dislike about their bikes. I stood in the sun and watched Royal Enfield introduce their new flat track school, watched grass racing on Classic 350s, and just soaked in the festivities. Old school, very cool, and just nice to see no matter what language we speak, what color our skin is, or where we live, we are all basically the same. A bunch of grown-up kids who love motorcycles and doing fun, somewhat dangerous stuff.
Now my boss is the Energizer Bunny. Endless energy. No need to ever eat, and he never slows down. Now I like to call it a night early, relax and chill. This became a sore point with us as I would sneak away each night to get back to the hotel and avoid riding at night as much as possible. The endless “ball busting” would follow with a stream of texts, but I stood my ground. All fun between friends!
The last night everyone went to the final events and concert as I hid from everyone and just walked around Goa – I had enough of riding at night and was exhausted. I ate some good food and looked forward to my taxi to the airport in the morning. Now, I was always the guy who left parties early and would avoid staying out all night, so even though I’m old and gray, I am still the same; basically boring and anti-social. So as the taxi picked me up in the morning, my body and psyche was ready to get back to civilization. And my boss and other two co-riders, flew up north for more research. I was ready for a nap!
Conclusion
Riding in India was what I can imagine child birth is like. It was hell at the time, but after it was over, I forgot about all the pain and was ready to do it again. My Indian co-workers were saviors. They made sure I did not die and kept an eye out for me during all the rides. Even when we would lose our compass (where the hell is our boss and the navigation?), we kept together and made sure we all made it to the hotel each night safely.
As much as I wanted to kill my boss each night, the guy just loves to ride. I can’t fault anyone for the pure joy of anything, but I know what to expect, and what to avoid the next time we ride together. As I always preach, we all need new experiences. They don’t need to be life threatening or dangerous, but something to get you out of your comfort zone. You don’t need to push the boundaries like riding in India or jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, but we all need to keep pushing and challenging ourselves. Life is too short to sit on the couch staring at your phone.
So, remember, we can all do way more than we think we can. And you should never give up. Push yourself and you can accomplish amazing things. Now was this the smartest thing I have every done? Probably not. Jumping into a new riding environment and riding for 10+ hour days after not riding for a while is not the smartest thing. But my decades of riding and racing kicked in after day one, and I got way more comfortable and started having fun.
I used to be a commercial fisherman in Alaska and have worked on fishing boats in the middle of Alaskan winters, so I have done some risky stuff. But I truly think this was the most dangerous thing I did, and I have almost been shot several times, and have been in countless motorcycle and car crashes. Would I do it again? Hell yeah. Now I know what to expect and have the experience, so let’s hit the road. I’m not the bravest person and I don’t expect everyone to enjoy doing things that could potentially kill you. But I am wired a bit differently, and that is what makes us all unique. So, relish in our differences, be open to new experiences and people’s different perspectives, and just live a fun life. Life is short, so don’t waste it. My next ride will hopefully be in the Himalayans, so stay tuned!