Brr... It’s cold; it’s fucking cold. It is 6:00 am and I am still debating whether I should participate in this motorcycle ride to Sibsoo. I am at the clubhouse by 7:00 am and the motorcycle ride is scheduled to start at 7:30 am. Pale Rider, our club president, has been waiting for the past half-hour along with X-Rider and I am the first member to show up. Shit! Shit! it is going to start like all our past rides – LATE. Think all our riders need to get watches. The members start showing up eventually; and we hear all the excuses in book. “All right, gather around” says Pale Rider. We get the usual pep talk and then somebody notices, Bap Rider, our Sergeant-at-Arms, is missing. We are already an hour late and decide to start the ride sans Bap Rider. We are late but the sun is going to be out and that is good; that is really good. The temperature should be bearable now.
We start our ride to Sibsoo. Everything about motorcycling is going through my head. I am thinking of all the clichés; Freedom, Rebels, One with the Machine. It actually felt quite good imaging me, a rebel with tattoos wearing a half leather jacket taking it to the man. Well, it felt quite good until around 10 minutes into the ride. Fuck, fuck, fuck.. a slight change; a rebel wearing winter gear with a running nose under the motorcycle helmet. Forget taking it to the man, I need to wipe my nose. Wish these motorcycles came along with heaters. Bloody motorcycle designers, do I need to think of everything?
Riding on the road felt pretty good. Accelerating, slowing down, and taking the twists and turns felt exhilarating. And thank you for the windy Bhutanese roads, it does not allow you to ride any faster; riding any faster would have frozen my testicles. We stop to eat about 2 hours into the ride. Like always, we stop over at the dirtiest and shadiest place we come across. Hey, we are bikers now and it is expected. Terrible food, terrible drinks but we gulp it down somehow; again, hey, our biker’s stomach is expected to handle it. Dirty shady place; tick. Terrible food and drinks; tick. The only thing missing; wild bikini cladded women dancing on table tops.
Another 4 hours and we are almost down south in Phuentsholing. We remove our winter gear on one of our pit stops. I am now in my half leather jacket. Getting close to looking like a real biker. All I need now is a tattoo of a naked woman on my left arm and the words “Ride Fast, Die Hard” on my other arm. More twists and turns; more accelerating and slowing down; and before I know it we are in Phuentsholing. Cool Rider, Steel Rider and Jigs Rider have been waiting over half a day. We stop over at an even dirtier place and head on to Sibsoo... RIDE TO LOVE, LOVE TO RIDE.
PS: DEAR A RIDER- PLZ. DO CONTINUE! LOVED THE START-UP… NOW BRING IN THE REST AND KEEP WRITING! GRINNINGLY, TOXIC…