A New Kudu – The BMW R1300 GS

When the news of BMW’s latest GS incarnation flashed across some app somewhere, I swiped left. The first thought that came to mind was ‘have they lost their effing minds?’ Did they not see Ewan MacGregor and Charlie Borman in tears as their GS’s fell for the N-teenth time on the Road of Bones or some other gruesomely named off-road stretch? “Too heavy!” they whined. “Big mistake”, they sobbed. I rode my 2007 1200GS around the world and the only reason it made sense in retrospect was that my future ex-wife was on the back seat and I needed the storage. I remember sitting on a 1250 Adventure in a showroom once and proclaimed it a stroke of madness. Unless you are a hardened Dakar racer, riding that bike offroad would be zero fun. So, when the time came to upgrade my 1200GS, I went to the KTM 790 Adventure. It eats miles for breakfast on the motorway from London to Marrakesh and then magically transforms into an enduro once the pavement ends and the Sahara begins. My sweetspot has been found.

So yeah, I swiped left on the 1300. But then, somewhere, I came across a bike review and read about the total ground-up redesign of the bike. One of the biggest complaints I had on the recent versions of the bike was girth and top heaviness, attributes that are not particularly welcome on the undulating, unpredictable surfaces found once the pavement ends. But when I read the centre of gravity has been significantly improved by placing the gearbox under the engine rather than behind it, I decided to keep reading. Words never uttered to convey the Gelände/Straße’s stature – ‘slim, light & agile’ – kept appearing on my screen. 3 days later, I was riding one through London.

I’m 5’7” and several other fractions tall (i.e, not tall) and the biggest complaint anyone under 5’9” always has is it is too tall. I don’t remember the last time I was flat-footed on any adventure bike (never) so I am pretty used to using the balls of my feet. But this bike has a mind-blowing solution to the seat height / ground clearance conundrum: a suspension that can lower itself by an inch and a half as you come to a stop and then raises itself as you ride away! My test bike didn’t have this feature but wow – what a great innovation!

Despite the lack of this wizardry on my test bike, the first time I creaked my leg over and gave it the hard jerk needed to get the tall, heavy bike off its side stand, I noticed the difference in balance. With the centre of gravity so low, it came upright with surprising ease. The bike felt lighter, more nimble and hence more flickable while doing a dance between the buses, taxis, Bentleys and the ultimate pariah – UberEats scooters – of London traffic. Find a hole, squirt power, go.

I have a 1974 BMW R75 bolted to a Watsonian sidecar and I ride it around London all the time. The half century old drum brakes have the worst arrestng power in the history of stopping. The brakes on this GS, from the same company but 50 years later, are a masterpiece.  Or in my notes, ‘like custard’. Smooth, consistent, reassuring. Even with one finger, they have a progressive feel from the lightest touch to the hardest, ABS-releasing grab.

On propulsion, one thought came to mind: if Tesla made a motorcycle whose motor provided a completely linear relationship between twisting the throttle and forward movement, it would feel like this. I don’t even care what the horsepower and torque numbers are: I can feel it and it is perfect.

And finally, the aesthetic. How does its appearance make you feel? It reminded of the new Africa Twin I test rode in 2019. Every bit looked refined, robust and important. The spoked wheels are sublime. The engine doesn’t look like an internal combustion engine at all. It looks more like a mystery power source powered by crystals or alien life juice. There are no cooling fins. It’s power-coated black. It is omnipotent. The ‘X’ shaped LED headlamp is interesting, but the weird guy who has designed Dada-esque GS headlamps for 25 years seems to always get his way and is always ahead of his time. A board member (Elon Musk?) perhaps.

The wheels, especially the rear, looked jacked from a scooter. I thought it was the clearance that made it look small, but no, the rear is only 17” and the front 19”. Why oh why, if this is ever meant to be taken off-road? I’ll ding you here, BMW.

In the end, the new bike has somehow lost some of its GS-ness. The chunky two-wheeled rhinoceros of the past has been dismissed for a spritely kudu. Sure, when you look at its girth from behind it’s still got the shoulders of an NFL linebacker. But viewed from the side, it’s gone from Valerie Adams (Google her) to Kate Moss and this is a good thing: I’d take Kate over Valerie anytime I’m riding through endless mud tracks in Cambodia.

Of course, when I arrived back at the hyper posh BMW of Park Lane on London’s Hyde Park to return the bike, I was accosted with the hard sell. ‘Sorry mate, you can’t sell a seller’, I said. ‘Well, what did you think of it?’, the young Aussie pried. ‘It’s a solution looking for a problem’ was my response and I let him chew on that while I walked out the showroom door, jumped back on my KTM and popped off the sidewalk onto Park Lane toward Buckingham Place. 

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.

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.

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!!

Imagine your perfect destination for an adventure ride: what characteristics would this place possess? Awe-inspiring scenery? A road network from which every straight stretch of tarmac has been banished to some other land? How about food? Would you opt for bland? Of course you wouldn’t. And finally, there are the people. Do they embody an innate kindness and a welcoming, inquisitive nature toward strangers like you? If these attributes tick the boxes of your adventure motorcycling ideal, welcome. Welcome to Nepal.

Piqued your interest? Well please read on. The rest of you can return to ‘The Motorcyclist’s Guide to Route 66’.

Let’s start where most of us do, Kathmandu. An ancient metropolis of infamous lore, the jumping off and re-entry point of most trail trekkers, base campers and summiteers and the epicenter of incidental oriental/occidental hippie-dom, Kathmandu is mesmerizing. Come for the beautiful World Heritage sites of Durbar square, the heaving backpacker crunch of Thamel or just to tell your friends that you’re going to Kathmandu so you can watch them tilt their heads in curious dog fashion as they try to remember where Kathmandu is. This is a city with a buzz that never stops. Satiated with a big taste of this wonderland, let the ride begin.

Now show me a person who tells me that getting out of a large Asian city is easy and I will show you a liar. Bangkok, Delhi, Phnom Penh, Kathmandu: doesn’t matter. Extricating your good self from any of them is always an ordeal. Whether you find this wearisome or gorge on it like the most fucked up video game ever, that’s your jam. It is and will always be an essential part of the Asian riding experience. But as the carnage wanes, and wane it will, you will quickly find yourself in a 1,000 km state of nirvana. For if curvy roads are what you seek, and as a motorcyclist, it is indeed your purpose (if not, please refer to ‘The Motorcyclist’s Guide to Route 66’, above) you have reached the Promised Land. The 200 kilometers of mountainous, twisty ribbon from Kathmandu to Pokhara is a particular miracle stretch. The road may bulge a bit with the thunder of 20-ton Tata trucks but if you are lucky and the weather gods are smiling down on you, keep your neck slightly craned to the right as you ride. See those majestic peaks? Those aren’t just mountains, my friend. THOSE are the Himalayas and there is scarcely one that doesn’t surpass 20,000ft (6,000m) in elevation. Maybe one day you’ll scale a couple but for now, just smile and drink it in as you wind your way toward Pokhara.

Concentrated around the southern shore of Phewa Lake, Pokhara is Nepal’s adventure playground. From here you can set off on your trek to the Annapurna Range, crack your skull on a white water rafting expedition, plan your hiking route to the remote region of Mustang, engage in the faux-danger of zip-lining or grab your last of real pizza before you move on to realms of Nepal with less Gringo density. A beautiful town on a serene lake with views of the Himas that will melt your mind, Pokhara knows its function and serves it with aplomb.

With Nepal’s two largest urban civilizations in the rear view, the roads take a turn for the divine. That is because as you head south toward the mountain town of Tansen, you have been unshackled from the main artery that connects the Kathmandu and Pokhara. The traffic dissipates, the massive trucks seem purged and all that stands between your front wheel and the medieval town of Tansen is 6 hours of twisty curvy rollercoasterdom though forested landscapes and lovely villages settled by lovely people. A night in Tansen is to teleport to the real Nepal. No backpacker bars, no pizza joints, no North Face outlets. Coming here is an intention, not a consequence, and the people you meet there – housing you, feeding you momos, giving you advice on the best off road trails – these people will be happy to see you and their kindness is infectious.

Leaving Tansen, as tough as it may seem, does have its rewards. For the first 50km heading south toward Lumbini is, according to my ride notes, ‘a traffic-less amusement park ride through some of the most beautiful mountain & valley landscapes conceivable by nature.’ As you leak elevation from 2,400m down to 400m and level off on the valley floor that will eventually become India’s state of Uttar Pradesh, bam: back to reality. Flat, straight & congested, the withdrawal symptoms as the mountains recede may at first feel like someone pulled a plastic bag over your head and is choking you out but if you just chill the fuck out and meditate for a minute, you’ll be fine for you have landed at the home of the Buddha. No spiritual place I have visited short of perhaps the Golden Temple of Amritsar transports one to a state of sublime tranquility like the Maya Devi Temple. This simple, four-sided structure encloses and protects the foundations of the house that was the birthplace of Siddharta Gotama, the mortal man who would become the divine Buddha.

Recharged, we aim higher. The flatland can be kind of dull so after our Zen time we set a course for Chitwan National Park and our third ecosystem in 500km: First mountains, then plains and now, the lush forest and jungles of one of the most diverse and wildlife rich sanctuaries in all Asia. It takes 7 hours to navigate the 154km back up to the foothills of the Himalayas but you won’t complain about it, not for a minute. That is because this road is an off-roading gift waiting to be discovered. On a whim, we took a dirt track off the main road and were fabulously rewarded with a 20km ride through forests, rocky trails and several rivers just begging to be forded. And ford we did. Nothing elicits more of a fuck yeah moment than slashing your front tire through the rapids, defying the torrent and arriving upright and unmolested on the other shore.

Chitwan gives you an opportunity to create some separation between you and that machine you’ve come to love. An open-jeep safari to explore wild rhinos, elephants, leopards and tigers in a pristine sanctuary all their own? Yes please. And when you are sitting on the observation platform at dusk watching anxiously as a 5 meter croc silently stalks a wild boar and the waiter gently whispers ‘another gin and tonic, sir?’ ‘Yes please.’

On the final surge back to Kathmandu and home base you will ascend without reprieve. It takes a lot of hairpins bends to deliver you and your machine from 500m to 2,500 in a stretch of only 150 km so do your best to disguise your glee. Giddy is not a cool look. We rise and rise until we reach the hilltop village of Daman. It is here that you will befriend the most cuddly local dogs south of Everest (definitely a cool look), elbow your friends for a spot next to the small stove and single source of heat in the mountaintop lodge and snag one of the best views of Everest to be had anywhere in the entire nation of Nepal, save for perhaps the summit of Everest itself.

And there you have it. Of course, this is not all of Nepal. But the 1,000km in 12 days will give you a cross-section of all of the best that this exotic country has to offer. Arid plains, sub-tropical jungles, alpine forests, muddy trails, rocky climbs, raging rivers, crocs, rhinos, pythons, buddhas. And Everest.

If those voices in your head are coaxing you to get two wheels underneath you and experience something truly incredible, the Himalayan nation of Nepal has truly got it all.

Join us in Nepal this spring and fall at Two Wheeled Expeditions – Nepal

Camel racing in the Thar Desert

 

Ten years ago, about a third of the way through a seven-month, 27 country around the world motorcycle ride, I encountered three Swedish riders in Phnom Penh. Like me, they were riding battle-scarred BMW GS’s around the world so we settled into an extended 8-beer session about our experiences including brushes with mortality on the road. I had been underway in Southeast Asia for about 6 weeks and Cambodia was testing me. The 120km, eight-hour journey through single-track mud bogs along the Mekong to Phnom Penh had been especially harrowing. When it became their turn to recount their most nerve-wracking days, their response was both unanimous and instantaneous: India.

I laughed. Surely it could not be as diabolical, as merciless as the Mekong. One month later, after crossing the border from Nepal into India, I wrote these words:

“Pulverized is the only way to describe how I feel after my first two days of riding in India. The border crossing from Nepal passed quickly and a grin of relief came over me as I picked up speed and rolled south through the straight rural lanes over the flat plains of northern Uttar Pradesh. With the soft haze hanging over the landscape, the green rice fields turning orange as they vanished off into the dusky distance, the scene was dreamlike. But with the arrival of the first town, Gorakhpur, the pastoral calm was angrily replaced by vehicular carnage. The unmarked streets heaved like a twisted orgy and every foot was gained only with the greatest exertion of physical and mental strength. Cars, buses, trucks, rickshaws, cows, people, oxcarts all thrown together in a reckless, polluted clusterfuck of insanity, knocking, banging, jolting and all the time, laying on their horns as if their hearts would stop beating if they ceased. The density on the road is so great, I barely have enough space on the sides of the bike to put my feet down when we stop. The battle fires on all of the senses with such amplitude, I literally thought I would explode. My teeth are being ground to the nubs.”

Since that first encounter and dozens of rides later I’ve callused up a bit. But the shock has not subsided and neither has the awe. Yes, you can blow your mind on two wheels in other parts of the world. But here are 5 good reasons why India trumps them all:

1. The Explosion Factor – Nothing makes you feel more alive than flogging a bike through maximum Delhi traffic. Every one of your senses is turned to level 10 and the whole scene becomes one of the most enjoyable video games on the planet.

2. The Diversity Factor – There is not one India but many. Rajasthan offers the vast Thar Desert, endless architectural marvels and the exotica of the ancient spice routes – camels included. Kerala lures with winding switchbacks through verdant jungles. And Ladakh transports you to the top of the world to a dual-sport heaven on Earth.

3. The Cultural Factor – Riding through open landscapes in North America, Africa and Central America is a thrill. But nothing matches 4,500 years of cultural, architectural and spiritual evolution. You can visit the country a dozen times and each time it is a new adventure.

4. The Food Factor – Ah yes, the food. Although each region has its own distinct culinary traits, one thing can be said of India cooking universally: The myriad spices, techniques and ingredients ensures that it is never, ever boring.

5. And finally, the Wow Factor – India can be a very overwhelming place. Your ears, nose and mouth never seem to get a day off. But with time, the sense of overload moderates and transforms to a sense of fulfillment. You feel more fulfilled because no day is ever like the last. Whether it’s racing a camel in the desert to sleeping under the stars on a remote sand dune to drinking tea in a high jungle hill station, India amazes.

Let’s not sugar coat it though: Whether it be on the highways, in its cities or in rural villages, India is a place where to be born weak is to subsist on the ruthlessly dark fringe of existence. But in the paradox that for me defines the place, India is the by far most magical country you will ever visit. It has the capacity to make you gasp for breath at its architectural beauty, to charm you with the mosaic of its peoples and culture, and seduce you with its history and the religions that are core to life. And on two wheels exposed to everything it can throw at you, you will leave incredible India a transformed person.