Buy the new Africa Twin! Or don’t!

I will divulge my bias from the get go. I am not, nor have I ever been, a fan of Japanese motorcycles. Ok, I said it. Let loose the torrent of blaters (blogging haters), trolls and aficionados. I don’t care. Maybe it’s my semi-European upbringing or the perhaps unjustified ‘soul’ of European bikes but the last Japanese bike I owned was a Yamaha YZF600 in LA back in 1997. When it was stolen in 1998, a Triumph Daytona filled its place and that was that. So glad we got that behind us.

My primary baseline for comparison are the 1050 and 1200 GS’s I’ve been riding as my daily rides/adventure steeds for the last 15 years. Both are big & reliable (the latter got me around the world) but nimble is not a word that would find its way into the GS lexicon. I’ve seen lots of videos of two wheeled titans thrashing the monster 1250 GS Adventure through swamps and over dunes. Nice little marketing snippets, perhaps, but for all of us who have not competed in Paris – Dakar, I call bullshit. I got my Husky motorcrosser stuck in a mud bog in the middle of the California wilderness once and it took me an hour and several heart attacks to set it free. If I was on my GS (weighing more than double the Husky), I would have been, how do you say?…Oh yes, fucked.

To the Honda!

Let’s start where we all do, looks. If it were a Tinder girl, you’d swipe right. If it were a Hinge guy, you’d definitely give it a like. And if you were on Match, a wink would be in order. (yes, I’m single and available). Even if I had never hit the start button, I would have been satisfied just to have the image of her in my mind’s eye forever and ever. The dripping lusciousness of the blue/red/white sparking paint scheme, the sparkle of the gold-finished spoke wheels, the clean lines of the water-cooled parallel twin engine, the freshly bronzed crankcase, the sharp edges of the body work. Get excited. It is truly the most beautiful dualsport I have even laid my lovely blue irises upon. (god, I hope some women are reading this article.)

Now with every action there must be an equal and opposing reaction so here’s my ding and believe me, it’s me, not you. It’s bloody tall! Yes, I am short – maybe 5’7” after an hour on an inverter – but I have always had a thing for the tall ones. My Triumph Tiger, my two GS’s and my KTM 450 EXC all had towering seat heights but I got used to them. If you suffer vertigo, you may want to rethink. Or lower the suspension. Or opt for the lower seat. Or wear stilettos, if that’s your thing. The only time I found it…troubling, was trying to back it up with two tiptoes on the ground, ballerina style. Not a great look but it worked.

Hit the starter and holy crap, what a snarl! And that’s with the stock can. The juices now flowing, the big iPad on the handlebar lights up. Apparently the computer does a lot of things. I ignore it and set off for the Surrey Hills south of London. After 60 seconds I am obsessed. The bike is so tall but as lithe as a supermodel and feels as light as a feather. The narrow geometry gives immediate confidence and just screams ‘take me to the dirt!’ Sat on the new GS Adventure recently? Where the Africa Twin is like being on the back of a young camel (I have), the GSA is like sitting on a male rhino (I have not). Ever try picking a rhino up out of a mud bog? Didn’t think so.

The engine is grunt galore and the snorting exhaust note completely dominates the whirly whine coming out of the engine case. Torque comes by the bucket full and power-wheelies and a mere quarter twist of Mr. Righty away. There were no trails offering their dirt and mud to us so I made due with an urban motocross track. Tearing down narrow residential roads (not advised) mowing over speed bumps did not unsettle the suspension one little bit although, being only 167 lbs/76kg, I maybe should have dialed down rear shock rebound a bit to offset that bucking bronco effect. Likewise jumping over and off curbs presented no gripes at all. It may weigh twice as much but it handles a lot like my KTM 450 with suspension travel to match. Obviously, my spate of hooliganism does not vet the bike’s off-road credentials but I can vouch for its unparalleled ability to raise hell in any city of your choosing.

I spent 6 hours on my sexy gazelle crisscrossing the urban / suburban environment of South London and, with the exception of the seat height and the utterly crap hand guards (I mean like plastic plates from an office picnic crap), this bike is totally hype-worthy. Will I buy one? Probably not. My next purchase is already in the chamber…the KTM 790 Adventure. Euro bias? Maybe. But mainly because of the type of riding I tend to do, Two Wheeled Expeditions style. But I am a profoundly and irrevocably changed human. This Honda, this sexy beast of a bike is without peer. It slots beautifully between the GSA 1250 panzer and the crossy KTM 790 and for many people I am sure, the perfect match.

We arrived in Bikaner shortly after noon and I had a mission: to find a replacement for a nut that had fallen off of the bolt that holds the clutch lever in place. We have had a few parts go missing over the last two months, some through the constant abuse, others falling victim to sticky fingers. But nuts, not unlike people, all have a purpose of varying importance. Some can vanish yet their departure remains fully unnoticed, while the absence of others can cause whole systems to collapse. This particular nut was on the more indispensable end of the spectrum.

We headed around the perimeter of the 16th century Junagarh Fort wall to a restaurant for lunch and on the way back, I stopped in at a small shop with a pile of bicycle parts out front and enquired about their nut stocks. A kid in his late teens presented a box containing all shapes and sizes of nuts, bolts, washers and other fastening devices but, not knowing exactly what size nut I had left somewhere on the 200 miles of tarmac behind us, I said I would come straight back with the bike so we could size it properly.

Five minutes later, I was parked in front of the young man’s shop, one of dozens of six foot wide places of business on this congested street, and beckoned him to come with his collection of hardware so we could find the perfect fit. Then, similar to the effect of throwing chum into a sea of shark-infested waters, the crowd began to gravitate toward my big BMW R1200GS. The kid did his best but could not seem to find the right one and we found we needed to remove the hand guard in order to properly access the mateless bolt. To his aid came an older man, perhaps his father, who seemed to take control of the situation and was joined by two lower ranking assistants. I tried my best to be a part of the process but as the nucleus of activity became denser, I found myself gradually relegated to spectator status.

What I didn’t perceive was that, while I was observing the four manpower effort to replace my lost nut, the crowd around us had swelled to such mass that three of the four lanes which form the ring road around the fort wall were blocked. From all sides, arms and hands reached through the spectators lucky enough to have a front row seat to touch the machine. Others, not knowing from behind that I was the owner of this deity from Bavaria, shoved me to the side to get closer to the gleaming metal. I was machine gunned with questions in Rajasthani and felt like a disgraced congressman facing a panel of barking senators investigating moral impropriety. Then came the queries in English, the same ones I had fielded one hundred times before: how much does it cost, how much fuel does it use, how many gears does it have, does it run on gas or diesel. That last one always confuses me.

As the four men on center stage continued to fiddle with the nut, the driver of a camel cart parked on the periphery of the bulging, odorous crowd of fifty men, his perch offering him an ideal vantage point to observe the alien activities below. With both his wide load of grain on the rickety wooden cart and his tan, furry beast towering over the men and machine spilling over to the fourth and final lane, the artery was clogged. The ring road around this city of 50,000 was now effectively closed all thanks to my bike and that little two cent nut.

 

Two Wheeled Expeditions offers tours through Rajasthan from October through March every year.

Often curious friends and bikers ask me if they should or could become a motorcycle tour guide. Some have clocked wild miles, vlogging, blogging and accumulating their fair share of fans along the way. Now they wonder if this could be a career option. Many also add they hate their current job and need a change. Over the years I have given all sorts of answers but here are five clues to knowing if being a fulfilled tour guide is in your future. You enjoy people, you are patient, you are curious, you have credibility and you are a grateful person.

You enjoy people

Motorcycle tours are only about motorcycles. At least that’s what everyone thinks. But a tour leader’s ultimate goal is to fulfill what was promised to the guests. And that goes beyond handing over a sound motorcycle and riding in the front.

If you genuinely enjoy people you will not be partial towards your ‘type’ of folks but be able to connect with pretty much anyone you meet along the way. You will also need to be instrumental in bringing a sense of camaraderie among the diverse bunch of riders from across various cultures and nationalities.

From restaurant waiters to hotel staff, ticket operators to guides, from shopkeepers to mechanics, wherever you go, you are dealing with people. If they aren’t happy to see you repeatedly, tour after tour, it could be that you view people as a means to an end. As mere service providers, human resource and business opportunities. And less as persons who deserve dignity for just being.

If you enjoy people you will be able to develop the right tension between caring with excellence and inspiring the same in others and never belittling anyone.

You are patient

Chances are in any tour group there will be those who will test your limits more than others. The guests could be total angels but how do you handle random tourists out to ruin your vibe? Unforeseen events like a roadblock, sudden change in weather, fuel shortage or your own mistake and oversight.

If you are the edgy type who must perpetually be in control, then being a tour leader is probably not for you. To keep leading tours you need patience. Lots of it, all the way, every day!

Patience comes as you seek reasons to celebrate people and not just endure them. Patience is not passively waiting for things to improve but taking the initiative to intervene wherever necessary. Patience requires being courageous and calm under pressure for the welfare of others, in this case, for the sake of your guests and team.

You are curious

You cannot take people where you haven’t been. For that, you must nurture a sense of healthy curiosity and keep learning. And I don’t mean you simply carry your phone around to Wikipedia everything when someone asks a question.

How do you maintain a sense of wonder for a place you may have visited dozens of times? By expecting to discover something new. Also by attempting to do something you have never tried before. It could be trying a new dish or learning the nuances of the local language or belief system.

Many years ago a bunch of Australian riders dared one another to climb up a nearby mountain to a waterfall and stand under its icy shower. It wasn’t part of the plan but I did it and you know what? It was utterly refreshing, hilarious beyond words and completely changed how I saw a familiar route.

Don’t just direct people from the sidelines like a bored school teacher, join the class party! Pay attention to the details around and to the questions that are being asked. Being curious doesn’t just happen, its nurtured daily, especially through traveling and reading. And nothing engages people like being asked to share their life and worldview.

You have credibility

The sense of connection a group feels with one another and with a place has a lot to do with the guide’s credibility. And credibility cannot be bought or earned with a swipe of a card. It is trust, respect, and authority, gained over the long haul.

Credibility is intrinsically linked with generosity. The generosity of our time, talent and our treasure. As each one of us is different so are the ways in which we can be generous. But without exception, someone with credibility is usually a generous person. They have gone above and beyond the bare minimum requirement and invested in an intentional and consistent way.

Credibility is nurtured within us before it is acknowledged and endorsed by others. Our inner conviction regarding the price and the sacrifice we are willing to make for what we value matters. Being a tour leader is an unconventional vocation and there is a price to pay to pursue this passion.

And it is strengthened as we also know that no matter what, there are things we won’t compromise on. As someone once said, “if you stand for nothing, you fall for anything”. Credibility isn’t cheap and over time it makes you a far sharper tour leader than someone who is in it for the quick thrills and cool photo ops.

You are grateful

A grateful person maximizes what they have through innovation and by inviting collaboration. A complaining person will always find fault and focus on what they don’t have. All of life is a gift. And if by some chance you get to ride a motorcycle for leisure, seize the opportunity!  Gratitude keeps a check on our sense of entitlement. It keeps us on course when things don’t go our way and keeps us humble when we are winning.

When you are grateful you don’t waste time comparing yourself with someone else’s journey. You’re glad you are where you are without perpetually chomping at the bits to be elsewhere. Gratitude for the past and the present fills us with hope for an adventure-filled future.

There are many other practical skills and requirements that I have omitted but the above 5 traits will ensure that you are truly fulfilled as a motorcycle tour leader.

Do let me know your thoughts and feedback and happy riding! Even better, join us on an expedition and experience the magic for yourself!

Ladakh is big, bold and beautiful. It is a stunningly sublime landscape pitched high in India’s Himalayas that boasts the largest peaks on Earth, majestic Buddhist monasteries unrealistically perched on dizzying cliff sides, and an indigenous people with hearts that match the grandeur of their mountains. But it can also spank if you let your guard down. Ladakh will not be tamed. In fact, it is Ladakh that tames you.

Let’s start with a most critical fact. Unless you are planning to ride there from Delhi via Srinagar or Manali, like most visitors to the region you will be deposited via airliner in its capital, Leh. Leh sits at an elevation of 11,570 feet (3,500 meters). This is more than double the elevation of Denver and on par with some of the highest mountains in the Rockies or the Alps. If you’re like most people, you will not feel very different when you step off the plane. But as soon as you command your body to do anything strenuous – climb stairs for instance – you will understand. The lack of oxygen is very palpable. And if you are very unlucky (and forgot to take your altitude sickness medicine), you may find your first 36 hours to be an intensely miserable affair. Think intense headaches, endless nausea and hours in bed.

Now before you close your laptop muttering something to the effect of  “f— that s—“, there is a flipside to the misery. With the proper precautions – taking Diamox for 2-3 days prior to arriving, for instance – this potentially experience-ruining side effect can be mitigated. And once you’ve crossed this bridge, your new universe of exploration awaits you.

Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let the fun begin. Leh, your landing point, feels like an outpost on the fringes of civilization. Its desert periphery teems with military bases given its proximity to Pakistan and China but its center is all charm. Its epicenter – the imposing 16th Leh Palace – dominates the skyline from its rocky promontory and fixes a point in time when the Kingdom of Ladakh held sway over the entirety of the southern Himalayas. The place swells over the summer months with tourists and trekkers from around the world giving the town an exotic cosmopolitan buzz all its own. But when the roads close to the outside world in October, Leh reverts to its bleak, isolated, insular self.

Most exploration itineraries for Ladakh use a hub and spoke approach, that is an excursion to the northwest and a return to Leh, then a ride to the north and back to Leh, and then finally a run to the southeast before heading back to Leh for the last and final time.

The first spoke and the easiest ride by far is the trip up to Lamayuru followed by a short stint to Temisgam. Three and a half hours on National Highway 1 from Leh and you arrive at one of the most magical villages on earth. It is home to the 900 year old Tibetan Buddhist Lamayuru Monastery, the oldest and largest in the entire region and home to 150 Buddhist monks. Dusk spent on a hotel terrace provides a spectacle of cinematic quality as the setting sun plays over the architectural details of the monastery painting it yellow, then orange and finally a purple hue that contrasts against the deep blue sky and the mighty mountains in the backdrop.

The next morning ‘ease in’ ride brings us to the lush Temisgam valley, its verdant pastoral calm only interrupted by the soaring heights of the 20,000 foot peaks in the distance and the lofty perch of the Temisgam Monastery. The ride up to this sacred place provides an iconic view of the winding, cliff’s edge road ascending to the site: the monastery occupies the middle ground and the jagged peaks of the Ladakh Range jut skyward in the distance.

The first retreat to Leh for a night provides an opportunity to plan the next spoke of the journey – the ascent over the Kardung-La Pass.

The gradual 7,000-foot climb from Leh begins almost immediately upon breaching city limits. Endless hairpin bends characterize the profile of the ride and the terrain evolves as we move toward the heavens: pavement and vegetation ultimately give way to gravel, snow and a rocky landscape. 3-5 hours later, depending on the flow of military and tourist vehicles jostling for space on the narrow road, you are deposited on the Top of the World – the highest motorable pass on the planet. At an elevation of 18,400 feet above sea level, we are a mere 1,600 feet below the altitude of Everest Base Camp. Especially early in the riding season when patches of snow still mottle the road and massive snow banks line our path, there is an enormous sense of satisfaction in having reached this foreboding and inhospitable place. As with all five of the 17,000+ passes we conquer during this ride, vigilance is necessary. While trekkers have ample time to acclimatize during their very gradual ascent, bikers need to heed the fact that the oxygen levels up here are half of what they are at sea level and spending any more than 15-20 minutes at the top can invite the effects of altitude sickness – a perilous proposition when a motorbike is the only way down.

Safely on the north side of the range and nestled in the Nubra Valley, the next couple of nights bring the small towns of Hunder and Sumur, literal oases in the mountain desert nudged up against the sacred Indus River. This region of stunningly dramatic beauty is home to wild horses that graze in the deep green meadows that straddle the river, is a base for mountain treks & river rafting and the exploration of nomadic herder settlements in the high valleys.

The ascent over the Chang-la Pass on the way back to Leh might seem a more laid back prospect: its elevation tops out at a mere 17,858 feet (5,360 meters). Surprise! The mostly unpaved serpentine route is more challenging but also a great deal of fun.

After a final recharge back in Leh, the third and final segment of this adventure brings us southeast, to the lake region of Tso Kar and Tso Moriri. This area instills a sense of the austere like no other area in Ladakh: a desert landscape situated high upon the Tibetan Plateau – townless and almost devoid of any traces of civilization except for a few scattered military bases and the distant specks of nomadic herders and their flocks sprinkled upon the mountainsides.

Of course, it is these distinctive, almost otherworldly features that bring us here, a place like nothing we have seen before. Tso Kar, the great salt lake that becomes a surreal salt flat in the spring time, is a mere teaser to tide you over until you have traveled further south across open plains to reach Tso Moriri. With only the small town-slash-military base of Karzok to blemish its otherwise pristine shoreline, you can only stand mesmerized in the evening as you soak in the sublime beauty of this deep blue lake as a setting sun casts its evening orange hue on the snowcapped peaks. At this point, only the mighty 17,500 foot Tang-la pass stands between you and your flight back to lesser elevations.

Adventure is a word that is bandied about these days with little to tether it to its roots. If you are looking for the purest distillation of adventure, it isn’t too hard to find. Just point your front wheel toward Ladakh.

Two Wheeled Expeditions offers rides through Ladakh between June and September every year.

Did you ever watch a MotoGP or World Superbikes race and notice how racers slide the rear tire out as they enter a turn so they can target the front wheel toward the exit and get on the gas earlier? Well, there is a 99.9% chance that you will never do that. But if you have a few hours under your belt on a dirt bike, there is a 99.9% chance that you will. That is because while riding a street bike is about all traction, pretty much all the time, dirt biking isn’t.

But every once in a while as you’re just settling in for a nice ride on your <<insert your bike here>>, almost always unintentionally, the tires WILL lose some traction, or the brakes WILL lock up, or the bike WILL go all squirrely over the metal grates of a bridge. The first time this happens, you will likely have one of those adrenalin shot moments as your biochemistry’s self-preservation function kicks in. There is a way to mitigate that millisecond or two of fear: get on a dirt bike and condition your mind and body for what a lack of control feels like.

If you are reading this, chances are you’re already a rider – maybe even a very experienced one. But whether a nube on a Rebel or a crusty on a Road King, spending some time on the dirt will almost certainly raise the level of your street game. Here are some reasons why.

1. Learning to Crash– It will come as no surprise that crashing on a street bike almost inevitably hurts. Even if your skin and bones are in tact, a small spill adds up to a big bill. One simple departure from pavement to gravel on some mountain twisties converted my pristine Ducati into a ragged trackbike rebuild in the blink of an eye. A dirt bike on the other hand is designed to crash and being clad in the armor of a gladiator from head to toe tends to make you a bit more resilient as well. The point is that no one WANTS to crash. But in any risky activity, it helps to be prepared for the worst and the best way to accomplish this is to experience it. After you’ve fallen off a few times and brushed yourself off, you’ll be mumbling ‘I got this’ inside your helmet in no time.
2. Learning to Feel– Riding a motorcycle is not a linear experience between inputs and outputs – there are a number of unpredictable variables in play all the time that will catch you off guard. As Mike Tyson once said, ‘everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.’ When you think about the myriad inputs involved in riding – clutching, braking, traction, engine revs, gear selection, throttle, lean angle, etc – it’s amazing we can keep the thing upright at all. Riding in the dirt allows you the ability to exaggerate these actions and their reactions so you can begin to ‘feel’ that relationship. This harmony between human and machine translates directly to your street riding relationship until, with enough hours, you and your bike become one.
3. Learning to Read– Riding a twisty mountain road is a beautiful thing and unless you’re in the business of getting your knee down, chances are each successive corner will be quite similar to the last: there likely won’t be a mug bog, a gully, some low branches, a jump or a stream in your path so you can usually relax a bit. When you begin to gain confidence on a dirt bike and start to pick up your pace, you’ll begin to notice that relaxation is not part of the deal. Information is coming at you hot and heavy and only the brakes will stem the flow. This skill of reading the terrain, managing inputs to the bike and handling its reaction to them is an enormously valuable asset on the street.
4. Learning your Limits– GP racers must be at 99.9% of their own and their bikes limits all the time if they want to win. I would suggest that most people operate at under 75% of their street bikes’ full performance capabilities and that’s a good thing since modern sport bikes possess much more power than race bikes of 20 years ago. We like to know we are riding a street-legal race bike even though we have zero intention of getting our knee down on the Nürburgring. When you ride a dirtbike on some open terrain, you are free to get closer to 90% + of your bike’s potential. With practice and the confidence that comes with it, sliding on maximum braking, climbing hills at full throttle or using every inch of fork travel as you launch your bike over the next jump will become second nature. Once you have experienced 95% on a dirt bike, hitting 80% on your street bike won’t seem quite as unnerving.
5. Learning to Ride – As mentioned at the outset, most of those who read this are already accomplished riders. But if you are not, or are mentoring someone just getting into this crazy world we live in, the dirt is quite simply the best place to learn how to ride a motorcycle. In addition to the skill-building points mentioned in the last 4 bullets, learning to ride on the dirt is not only insanely fun, but it is inherently much, much safer than taking straight to the street. Dirt is softer, you are much better armored up, the speeds are a fraction of street speeds and going off line and hitting some bushes is a lot less painful than hitting a car, a tree or some other object that will win the impact war.

Of course, the best-case scenario is that you live in the best of both worlds and, like me, have street bikes AND dirt bikes in the garage. But if hard choices come with hard constraints, find some way – beg, borrow or steal – to get some dirt bike hours under your belt. In addition to looking totally awesome in the gear, you will quickly discover that there was a much better rider inside of you just fighting to get out.

As I write this, the Desert Storm 2019 rally cars and motorcycles are thundering through the scorching Thar Desert of Rajasthan. Last week, Hero Motocorp launched the 200cc dual-purpose Xpluse at a very competitive price, giving another option for those making the annual exodus to Ladakh next month. Then after celebrating “May the Fourth be with you!” with Star War fans, I was told the next day, May 5th was IFRD or International Female Ride Day. Triumph recently organized a track day at the Buddh International Circuit, led by none other than Vijay from Rajputana Customs. Harley Davidson is giving classes at its “University” and they’ve got heavyweight professor Vir Nakai giving the lectures. (Insert open mouth emoji here) I’m going breathless just writing all this. But the point is, there’s a lot more going on in the motorcycle scene in India than ever before!

Anyone serious need not spend their days riding vicariously via someone else’s social media feeds. They have options. But it can get a bit overwhelming. At its inception was an underwhelming group we founded 10 years back. It was more of a statement of intent than a slick name. “Delhi Bikers Breakfast Run” now called DBBR. What was meant to be a one-off experiment has had more than 10,000 riders get out and ride with perfect strangers and eat breakfast together. No point guessing who all have seen the photos or heard their stories. It soon became a platform for novice and seasoned bikers to connect without having to earn their right to be a biker by riding enough or owning the right bike or gear.

This has led to peer-to-peer influence that has had a significant impact on how new motorcycle related businesses get launched, what gear people acquire, which bikes they buy, the places they ride to and more importantly for me, how they perceive Delhi and the motorcycle culture at large. It is far easier to sit back and read reviews by professionals and bike companies and let them steer India’s motorcycle culture. But on the road, over breakfast one gets insights from the most unlikely and unassuming folks who in turn steer the future. In such rides I’ve gotten a better understanding on why the Mahindra Mojo didn’t take off even though I loved their near flawless ad campaign? Is there a clear winner between Royal Enfield Himalayan and Bajaj Dominar? Why do 40+ year old’s usually shy away from KTM bikes? How does discouraging customization by the lawmakers ruin creativity and innovation in the automotive industry? Which social media influencers are followed for mere entertainment and who actually influences people’s decisions?

As motorcycles get launched each month, more festivals, events, training and rides get planned, I feel DBBR still has a role in taking everything that gets thrown at us for a breakfast ride so we can really chew on it and give a feedback not on a forum or survey but to those who matter, our fellow bikers. What has helped DBBR stay the course has been our motto “Ride – Respect – Relax”. Come hailstorm or heatwave, we ride. Because if we don’t we get lost in the ocean of virtual information. And at its center, we aspire to ride with respect. Firstly with respect for ourselves, which impacts how we care for others and the environment. Lastly, since life is already so complicated, we ride to relax. Don’t forget, it’s just a ride and this is just another article.

Riding a motorbike around the world is obviously no mean feat. The financial and logistical burdens can be enormous, it puts immeasurable pressure on relationships (and ended a few of mine), the daily grind is at times intolerable and the risk to life and limb cannot be overstated. Given the myriad challenges that an undertaking like this throws at you, how do we ensure that our mind is in the right state to maximize what is for many a once in a lifetime experience? I have assembled a few points that I wish I had considered before I set off on my own 7-month odyssey.

Patience

When I wrote a piece called Ten Principles to Remain Sane on the Roads of India a few months back, ‘Patience will set you free’ was at the top of the list. Some of us may already have some international riding miles under our belts before we start our circumnavigation. Some will not. The advice here is simple: you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy, and the rules are different. Merely porting your mindset from your home country to the more challenging corners of the world is a recipe for disaster. Feel that tenseness building in your neck when you’re now in your 3rd hour of being lost in Bangkok’s evening rush hour? Take a breath, let it out and keep going.

Open mindedness

Riding a motorcycle around the world should not simply be about the act of letting kilometers pass under your feet. It’s about exploring the new worlds you will pass through, worlds very different from your own. It might seem strange at first when a checkpoint guard in Baluchistan invites you to his humble dwelling for a meal, especially when you have 8 more hours to the Iranian border. Getting kicked out of your comfort zone and diving into all that is different is the purest distillation of how an RTWer changes your life. Open your mind and drink it all in.

Presence

Yes, that hippie word. Sorry. But the concept is relevant. Every day on the road can range from blissful to revolting, even on the same day. Being present underway simply relates to not using the current day as a pathway to the next. Slow down and take the time to explore. My best personal lesson came while riding through the Thar Desert with my wife on the back. Passing through a massive congregation of camel herders, I asked her through the Bluetooth if we should stop. When she didn’t respond, I assumed she was tired and wanted to keep moving. When I tapped her leg and shouted my suggestion though my visor, she said fuck yeah and we turned around. Spending a couple of hours photographing the exotic scene became a highlight of our RTW experience.

Compassion

Depending on your route, you are likely to pass through countries where the motorcycle you are riding cost more than the people around you could earn in two lifetimes. That being the case, think about ways you can give back. Donate to a local charity, donate some of your time to help build a school or just make an effort to connect with the people you meet, regardless of their social status.

Vigilance

Ah, now the ‘risk’ part. Yes, riding around the world on a motorcycle is dangerous. Self-preservation is hard-coded into all of our brains and is active whether we’re barreling down a country lane in Belgium or striking out for a meal in Quetta, Pakistan. The challenge is dialing vigilance in as you pass through different cultures and geo-political situations such that curiosity and open-mindedness are not squelched. The best way I have found to optimize the two is simply the acquisition of knowledge. Read, ask, sense: all of these information sources allow you to pick a path that is both safe and rewarding.

Curiosity

You obviously already possess this trait in spades if you are considering exploring the world on a motorcycle. But when you’re on the road, sometimes the world becomes myopic and satisfying your curiosity pays the price. Yes, compromises are always required even if you’re planning on spending ten years on two wheels. There are an infinite number of paths you can choose as you make your way around the globe. Allow your curiosity to be factored at each decision point and you will be rewarded.

Tenacity

Yes, tenacity. Persistence. Determination. Perseverance. Resolve. Whichever noun you choose, you must have it above all. Riding a motorcycle around the world is like solving any complicated problem. It is conquered by taking the challenge one small piece at a time. One day, I chose to take a dirt road along the Mekong from Kampong Cham to Phnom Penh instead of the main road. With each passing kilometer, the road ruralized until is was nothing more than a path through the Mekong mud. The 70km ride took 10 hours of toil in tropical heat with multiple falls and a seemingly endless goal. Stuck in a steep ravine with no apparent way out, I wanted to throw the fucking bike to the ground and leave it there. That’s when a half dozen villagers stumbled by and helped push the 700lb bike out of the ravine and on our way.

One kilometre, one challenge, one day at a time. That and tenacity gets it done.

So get your gear, tune-up your bike and pack up the maps. You’re going to ride around the world and your mind is ready for the challenge.

On the highway, the Interceptor 650 gets a lot of attention. Possibly because I am riding the brightest of the 6 color options, and so is my ride buddy, Anshuman. The two “Orange Crush” twins remain the topic of discussion for our group of 16 riders as we make the 12-hour ride up from Delhi into the Kumaon hills.

The first impression of the bike is “wow” with a wide grin! It looks like a tastefully designed motorcycle for the more traditionally-minded biker. And I like it. That is until I notice its rear.

Unlike what you see on the Royal Enfield website, the Interceptor delivered on road has 2 major eye-sores. First, there is the mandatory “sari-guard”, a factory-fitted grill supposedly to protect ladies who will drape up in 8 meters of a sari and sit sidesaddle. No one checks that one can barely put one foot on the back peg, let alone both feet.

Secondly, there is the cheap plastic flap screwed below the rear number plate. My guess is that it serves the dual purpose of a mudguard and also wards off the evil eye.

Before you add any aftermarket parts, throw these two pieces of trash in the garbage and let the bike look like the charmer it’s meant to be.

With the superficialities out of the way, over the next couple of hours of riding, I am impressed by the response of the engine. Effortlessly smooth, there seems to be enough juice left even when you think you’re maxing out on the throttle. And when you need the brakes, they’re there too.

Sheldon, while lending me his bike the day before, had advised me to put all my preconceptions aside and ride it with a clean slate. Coming from a guy who has owned and ridden a wide range of motorcycles and has the technical know-how, I realized he was right. The Interceptor is indeed a brand new motorcycle from Royal Enfield.

As I navigate through some hot and bothersome traffic snarls, the Interceptor remains surprisingly calm. No tantrums and threats of overheating or clutch slips.

Anshuman doesn’t suffer from trying to make up for the years he wanted to ride but couldn’t for various reasons. His time is now and he adds with a smile “This is my first motorcycle and I think it’s a keeper. Well worth the money and experience…it has hooked me for sure!”

With breakfast over, we all hop back onto our bikes and immediately the novelty of how the bike looks or how the engine performs is replaced by how sore my posterior is. The Interceptor’s seat is slightly more padded than an ironing board, and a lot narrower. Thankfully this can be solved with a wider, more padded custom seat.

By midday the riding position feels a bit awkward and only when I stretch my arms out and sit far back on the seat do I save my legs from getting scraped by the front footpegs. But sitting like that makes the riding even more difficult especially once we hit the mountains.

As it happens in riding groups of our size, I keep losing some of the guys. And while making my 5^th U-turn to chase another errant biker heading in the wrong direction, I drop the Interceptor on a slope. With no leg guard, the flimsy foot brake bends easily. It reminds me of a tablespoon and both the bikes have bent foot brakes by the third day.

Looking at the instrument panel, a gear indicator, maybe even a clock might be helpful. And at the end of our ride, we find that the petrol gauges on both the bikes are faulty. Any more frills on this old school bike seem extravagant.

So is the Interceptor 650 parallel twin the most responsive motorcycle from Royal Enfield? Undoubtedly, yes! And with a few aftermarket adjustments, it can also be the motorcycle one can play with for a lifetime.

Get the specs on Royal Enfield’s site Royal Enfield Motorcycles

Check out Josh’s recent review of the Himalayan Review of the Royal Enfield Himalayan

Ready for Royal Enfield tour in India? Check out our life-changing rides on our Expeditions page.

Welcome to India

India is nothing if not a case study of extremes. From the moment you step out of the terminal at Indira Gandhi International Airport, you sense that something is setting you a bit off balance. It could be the fact that most flights arrive in the middle of the night and the smoky fog lingering over the city creates an ethereal aura. It could the intermingled brew of new smells that waft through the air as you make your way to the taxi rank. Or maybe even the dead of the night goings-on you spy from your taxi window as you wind through the darkness to your hotel. Give it time: things will get weirder but that, of course, is why you came.

India is regarded as one of the world’s most exotic destinations for many reasons. It’s mosaic of cultures and languages, its rich, extensive history, its beautiful architecture, its festivals, cuisines, religions and peoples. For this and every other reason you can fathom, India is one of the greatest countries on Earth to experience on a motorcycle. Yes, it does get a bit crazy out there sometimes. In fact, riding a bike there is often regarded as the greatest video game ever invented. Fortunately, you have come this far so you’re obviously the adventurous type. If you have not ridden there yet but have the idea planted like a splinter in your mind, your epiphany will come when you are chugging your way through the Thar Desert on your trusty Royal Enfield Bullet. It is then that you will crane your neck upward at the Western faces looking down at you from the windows of their air-conditioned luxury bus and realize that while they are watching a movie of India, you are playing a starring role.

Getting Ready

1. Flights
   Non-stop flights from Europe to Delhi, Mumbai and Kathmandu abound and usually take 7-8 hours. Cheaper flights can be had with stopovers in the Middle East, ie Adu Dhabi, Bahrain and Dubai. North Americans have a much longer ride with East Coasters and Mid-Westerners usually flying via major European hubs like London, Paris, Amsterdam and Frankfurt. Flights from these origins to Europe usually take 8 hours. West Coasters have the option of flying via Europe or Asia, ie China, Korea, Taipai or Japan. And while the trip is long – your are literally flying to the other side of the world – the Asia routes have the advantage that most arrive and depart during daylight hours instead of in the middle of the night. Flying to Asia takes 10-12 hours from Los Angeles, Vancouver and San Francisco and the continuing flight to India takes another 4-5 hours.
2. Visas
   Citizens of most Western countries can now travel to India on an e-Visa. This super-convenient process is worlds better than the old paper based, spend-4 hours-in-your-local-Indian-consulate nightmare. The eVisa is applied for on-line and usually approved within 24 hours. Notice! If you use an e-Visa, you must go to the e-Visa line at immigration when you arrive. I’ve seen many e-Visa folks wait in line for 30 minutes only to be sent to another line when they reach the immigration officer. The blow-ups are always quite entertaining.
3. Travel Insurance
   Travel insurance is highly recommended and in fact, is mandatory for most motorbike tour operators. Companies such as Allianz, American Express and others offer this coverage which ensures that should you become ill or take a tumble, all medical and, if required, repatriation expenses will be covered. For about $100, it’s worth every penny.
4. Vaccinations
   This is one of those items that is totally up to the individual. Some of us have been travelling around every corner of India for decades without ever once getting jabbed and with no negative consequences. Others will want to make sure that they have protection against every possible contractible ailment. There are, however, two treatments you should take advantage of. For those heading up to Ladakh, taking a course of altitude sickness tablets is a good preventative strategy. Some people are more susceptible than others so it’s best not to take any chances. Take your pill. The second is malaria tablets. If you are heading to southern India where dense jungles abound, eg Kerala, this is a simple safeguard in mosquito-prone areas.
5. Gear
   Another personal decision. As a person who has ridden around India in Cordura, waxed cotton and leather jackets, I can conclude that all of them to have their strengths and weaknesses. Leather provides the best protection in a spill but wear it in Rajasthan when it’s 105F /40C and you will wither. Waxed cotton breathes but sucks up dirt like a sponge and can’t be washed. Adventure touring jackets from Dainese, Klim, Frank Thomas, Revit and the like don’t score the highest points for character but they are very practical. Many have a Gore-Tex liner so are waterproof, they usually have built-in, removable armour, and are modular so you can reconfigure as conditions require. Helmets are up to the wearer but if safety is your priority, a full-face model is your best bet. Yes, you may feel a bit like your sitting in tiny car but your head will be protected from impacts coming from all sides. If cool is your thing, a half face helmet and some vintage goggles will get the job done.

On the Road

1. The Bikes
   What image do the words Royal Enfield conjure in your mind? Nostalgia? Heritage? Robustness? Weaponry? Well you would be correct on all fronts. Although the first bike was built in Britain in 1901, this isn’t a history lesson. The Enfields that are ubiquitous on the roads of India are of the Madras Motors era, an effort from 1955 where the brand and its ethos were licensed to be built in Madras, India (now known as Chennai). Enfields are intentionally simple machines. No computers, sensors, titanium or carbon fiber. They are based on the same basic layout defined in 1955: A single-cylinder air-cooled carbureted engine, steel tube frame, spoke wheels, chain-driven final drive, a single disc brake up front and a drum at the rear. Sound primitive? Well that’s the way it should be. Unenlightened riders may spit their dummies over the antiquated engineering but once you ride one in India, you get it. Speed, agility and fancy-pantsness is of no value on Indian roads. What counts is tank-like robustness and the ability to get one fixed in every village in India. The Bullet 350 & 500 and the dual-sport Himalayan will happily satisfy all the subcontinent can throw at you.
2. Riding in India
   This subject has been covered in one of our past articles entitled  Ten Principles to keep you (kind of) Sane and Safe on the Road in India but to summarize, riding a motorcycle can India can be a bit overwhelming. To be honest, walking down the street can be overwhelming when you first arrive. Doing it successfully really comes down to one simple concept: don’t drop your guard, regardless of how comfortable you may be feeling. Because it is exactly at that point when you take a breath and let your mind relax that camels, oxen, rickshaws, goats, cyclists and 20 ton trucks conspire to jump from the ether and shear off your path. Riding here does require solid riding skills but don’t let this put you off if you are new to riding. Much more in demand will be your ability to process and compartmentalize the sensory kaleidoscope the pelts you over mile after exciting mile. But rest assured: after 12 days on the road, you too will be calling it the best video game in the world.
3. The Food
   Some people hate it. Most people love it. The food of India tends to be pigeonholed into a large bucket called ‘curries’. Obviously, it’s much, much more than that. Each region has its own portfolio of flavours, from the artist’s palette on a plate from the north called thali, to the rich, fiery coconut fish curries of Kerala. The best advice here is to be adventurous since that, in actual fact, is what you seek. The capsaicin levels (chili spiciness) can be managed to your liking and you will without a doubt leave the country as a lover this beautiful cuisine. If you do, and we all do, crave the occasional western dish, make sure it is ordered in a hotel restaurant that caters to these tastes lest your let down be a hard one. You have been warned.
4. Money & Communications
   The world for the modern global wanderer had been made infinitely more pleasant by the proliferation of ATMs. There is barely a town in India or Nepal where one cannot be found. They may not always work so plan ahead and grab 10,000 rupees (about $150) before you strike out. And one more tip – don’t forget to advise your bank of your plans or you may find your card unceremoniously blocked. On the comms front, almost all hotels and even guesthouses have wifi these days. Mobile phones are a different story. The best approach, if you have an unlocked phone, it to buy a SIM card on arrival. These are available at kiosks in the arrivals halls of major airports and in all towns and cities. If you have a locked phone, you can contact your mobile service provider about packages for foreign travel. Please bear in mind that this is a much more expensive option that a local SIM card.
5. Health & Safety
   As mentioned earlier, a traveller’s insurance policy is highly recommended for anyone engaging in any risky activities overseas. If your riding skills are a bit rusty, grind off some of it get riding! If you don’t own a bike, rent, borrow or steal one and get yourself to a comfortable state again. On the question of safety, India has had the dubious distinction of being frequently featured in the worldwide press for violence toward women. It is indeed a deplorable scourge that its society is fighting hard to address. As a male who has travelled to every corner of the country over the last 25 years, I can say that I have never feared for my safety, ever. Sadly, I cannot say the same about many of the cities I have lived in /travelled to in the US. Of course, I know many women who have had very different experiences in India. The precautions will seem obvious to most women – ignore places that give off a creepy vibe, try not to travel alone, dress modestly, etc. The fact is that India sends many conflicting signals: Homosexuality was only decriminalized last year, yet it’s totally normal to see straight guys holding hands while they stroll down the street. Women wearing revealing tops or a short skirt may be harassed by dudes on a corner, but Bollywood stars preen on the big screen wearing next to nothing. In India as everywhere, common sense is your best guide.

Riding with Two Wheeled Expeditions

Just like that time when you took your first skydiving leap, sometimes it helps to have someone nearby who has been there before and has your back. That’s where we come in. As expert riders and tour guides with a deep knowledge of India’s geography and culture, we know how to show you a good, safe time. Each expedition, each restaurant, each hotel, each and every bike: all have been checked out with our very own eyes, ears, nose and mouth. All you need to do is allow one of the most incredible adventures of your lifetime unfold before you, one page and one kilometer at a time.



YOU RACED THROUGH PUDDLES

A puddle was a magnet drawing me to splash through on my bicycle as fast as my tiny legs could pedal. Or I’d wait for the grown ups to get distracted so I could jump and splash in it till I was drenched.

Well, that same gleeful sensation seems to overwhelm us as we cross rivers on our motorcycles in Ladakh. Grown men and women can be seen squeezing their socks dry on the other bank, grinning like Cheshire cats. Some go right back into the river to “help” their mates but all they’re doing is splashing around as they did when they were young.

YOU PLAYED IN MUD OR SAND

A pile of sand or mud was meant for rolling in, digging, sifting and throwing into the air. I made mud castles to storm it with my band of imaginary bandits and practiced that villainous “bru-ha-ha-ha” laugh to perfection.

While riding in the Nubra Valley one can’t help turning off the tarmac and head towards the dunes. As we walk without our riding boots in the fine sand, we imagine ourselves as Silk Route traders from Turkmenistan, with our double-humpbacked camels fully laden. But the view is no mirage: there are indeed lush pastures cradling the pristine stream on one side and the dunes surrounded by rugged mountains on the other.

YOU CLIMBED TREES

A good tree was one I could climb. With a fluttering heart, I’d pull myself onto the higher branches, expecting at any moment to go crashing down. The thrill of looking into the distance from atop a tree made me feel brave, like I was on a wild adventure.

Riding higher and higher over the passes of Ladakh on our motorcycles is an adventure like no other. The narrow twisties that wind through the gorges and lead us to the lunar landscape or “moonland” of Lamayuru never fail to delight me. Besides the thin air, one also gets breathless out of awe of the innumerable shades of mountains that keep unfolding all the way up to the beautiful pass of Fotu-La. Up here the view is what I think I was searching for from that treetop long ago.

YOU BUILT TENTS WITH BED SHEETS

Building tents with bed sheets or carton boxes was my way of being in the land far-far away. I’d be transported to a magical place as soon as I entered my tent of make-believe. The night sky would be filled with shooting stars, while inside our flashlight lit faces would discuss our wild expedition.

Reaching the sapphire Pangog lake or the Tso-Moriri lake in the high Himalayan desert is surreal but almost how I imagined it to be. But it’s impossible to be prepared for the actual sensation one feels until you get there after a day of riding over gravel and dirt. The cool breeze sending ripples upon the deep blue lake and the wispy clouds above makes you want to dance with delight. It is only while sipping your second or third cup of chai sitting inside your tent overlooking the lake that you get this sense of deja-vu. Yes, this is that magical tent from my childhood!

In case you had too much homework growing up or little time to clown around like me, someone did say, “you’re never too old to have a happy childhood.” So grab that motorcycle, ride around Ladakh and let that kid within dream and play!!