Ten Principles to keep you (kind of) Sane and Safe on the Road in India

Starting from the moment you step off the plane, India is intense. The pace, the noise, the smells – the senses are immediately overloaded. And of course, 99.99% of foreign visitors choose to avoid a ‘two-wheeler’ as their mode of transport. But you are cut from a different cloth.

To help you find harmony in the country as you explore its magic, I have have assembled some nuggets of wisdom known as “Principles for Keeping you Sane and Safe on the Road”.

1. Patience will set you free – The first principle is also the most important. India is a frustrating world if you expect things to happen quickly and efficiently. So when you pull up to the nice hotel you’ve booked and the security guard informs you that you cannot enter the compound because you’re on a ‘two-wheeler,’ take a breath and roll with it. Eventually you’ll get the hang of it.

2. Everyone is not trying to kill you (although it will seem they are) – A person on a two-wheeler is automatically relegated to the lower castes. You will understand this the first time you ride on a highway and are forced to the shoulder by a bus driver hanging inches from your taillight. Our best advice is not to fight it: A TATA truck weighs 40,000lbs; you weigh 650. Yield and enjoy the ride.

3. Horn and be horned – Horning is a national pastime in India. It is essentially an affirmation that ‘I am here’ so please don’t kill me. During one of my longest rides, the horn on my BMW packed up. You will never feel more exposed to danger on the road in India as a motorbike rider without a horn. Without one, you simply do not exist. Horn, and horn often.

4. The Law of 3’s – As part of your daily ritual of waking up, eating dal and chapatis, packing your shit and setting off to where you will sleep that night, you will inevitably pass through 2 or 3 towns. These towns will resemble the textbook definition of chaos. In some you will be posed with a decision. Do I go left, do I go right, or do I go straight? There will not be any signs. Or at least any signs you can read. Maybe your GPS will work. Maybe it won’t. So you will have to ask for directions. Chances are, the directions will be wrong. The trick is to ask 3 times. Pull over, seek out the most educated looking person you can find (many lower caste people have not strayed far from their home so asking directions to a place 100km away is like asking them how to get to Mars – so don’t ask a guy driving an ox cart), and ask them if this is the road to your next destination. (An Indian ‘yes’ nod looks a lot like a Western ‘no’ shake so make sure you get this right.) Set off a 100 ft and look for the next educated looking person. Ask the same question. Now you get it. Do this one more time. The reason for the Law of 3’s is that you can double verify the initial instruction. After setting off 40km in the wrong direction one day, making the difference between a night time versus daylight arrival, I became an avid fan of the Law of 3’s.

5. The Law of 100’s – No matter how hard you try, averaging over 100 miles (160 km) per day seems to be impenetrable. Traffic, getting lost (see rule 9), animal/mineral/vegetable based obstacles will all conspire to constrain you to the Law of 100. Plan accordingly.

6. Never, ever get comfortable – Invariably you will find yourself on a stretch of road devoid of cows and tractors and feel inclined to settle back, relax and roll the throttle. It is then that an unmarked speed bump will send you lofting out of your seat. Oncoming vehicles in your lane, camels, dogs, unmanned police barricades, crater-sized potholes…the list is endless. All of these will send you into a ditch. Stay alert!

7. Enfield, mighty Enfield – Enfields are made for India. They have vintage style, are tough, reliable and can be fixed by anyone, anywhere. Love your mighty Enfield.

8. Beware the night – This one is a no brainer. Your chances of being in a nighttime accident are three times higher than when the sun is up. This risk is exponentially higher in India where streetlights are rare, trucks regularly run without tails lights and muddy cows grazing burning garbage on the side of the road are almost invisible. Get to your next waypoint before sundown.

9. Get Lost – Although it may stand in contradiction to the Law of 3’s, getting lost often leads to adventure as long as it doesn’t violate Principle #8. A small miscalculation en route back to Delhi from Jaisalmer led us through Shekhwati, a beautiful and oddly untouristed region of some of the most inspiring havelis (traditional, courtyard endowed mansions usually artfully adorned with hand-painted frescos) I have seen anywhere. Let the adventure unfold!

10. Laugh. A lot. – I have never laughed so hard as when we were delayed at a railway crossing. With both barricades down and warning lights flashing, both sides of the track amassed a directly opposed swarm of every conceivable form of transport: from 20-ton trucks to camel-drawn carts. When the bells ceased and the barriers were raised, the ensuing carnage was like a scene out of Braveheart. The two sides clashed over the tracks in a gargantuan tangle with horns blaring and paint scraping. Scenes like this repeat themselves over and over again. Enjoy it, for this, is why you came.

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.

Royal Enfield currently holds the world record for being the largest selling big bike (350cc and above). With each passing year those numbers increase by 700,000! Some say its because these motorcycles were supplied to the Indian military and hence have an unmatched loyalty. Others claim it’s the abundant labor and lack of competition that gave them the edge.

There is no dearth of explanations one can find from Enfield owners or online posts but the one reason that has never been mentioned is that it got where it did today because their bikes were “purpose built”.

Until of course, in early 2016, when Royal Enfield launched a single cylinder, air-cooled, 4-stroke motorcycle that was created entirely in-house. To avoid any confusion about the direction for this bikes purpose, they named it the “Himalayan”.

The honeymoon period in the first year saw the expected list of niggles such as poor parts and gear not shifting properly. As long time fans we knew this from all their previous launches so we waited till those issues got sorted, the carburetor got replaced with the EFI and few more sensors thrown in.

Then to stay true to Royal Enfield’s philosophy of taking their bikes to places it wasn’t designed to go we rode the Himalayan into the Thar Desert.

The 1035 odd miles had us going from the highway into the less known back roads playing chicken with the bulls and cows and the occasional camel. When compared with the Royal Enfield Desert Storm, what the Himalayan lacks in its “thump” sound and classic looks, it makes up in with its comfortable stance.

The Desert Storm took the lead when both opened up the throttle on the highway. But it was when we had to ride over gravel, mud and sand that the Himalayan breezed past its Classic cousins.

Ultimately when you are in India your motorcycle will have to endure roads and challenges that are beyond its “purpose” on paper. That is usually when the real adventure begins. And at the end of the day, watching the surreal sunset over the dunes with a cup of chai in your hand, one can only wonder if all this talk of “purpose-built” isn’t really about motorcycles but us as well.

Joshua John writing from New Delhi