Ziro to Pasighat
We set out towards Daporijo and I was enjoying the ride and the view. We crossed a high point and had a great view of the valley below. Blue sky. Green valley. What could be better? I was just getting ready to compose a poem or sonnet or something, when bawa rode up beside me.
‘How’s the bike feeling?’
‘Oh it’s great! The feel is very different from earlier!’
‘It is, isn’t it? That’s because you have a puncture, you fool!’
‘WHAT?’
‘Yes. Your rear tyre is flat. Now pull over. Carefully!’
‘How’s the bike feeling?’
‘Oh it’s great! The feel is very different from earlier!’
‘It is, isn’t it? That’s because you have a puncture, you fool!’
‘WHAT?’
‘Yes. Your rear tyre is flat. Now pull over. Carefully!’
I stopped and put the bike on side stand, and bawa came and examined my rear tyre, mumbling about fat fools who couldn’t even tell when their tyre was flat.
‘What do we do now?’
‘Not much choice. Take off the tyre and mend the puncture.’
‘Ah…’
Bawa sighed and rolled his eyes.
‘You don’t know how to do it, do you?’
‘Not a clue.’
Bawa sighed again. ‘Fine. Take off your saddlebags.’
I know nothing about bikes apart from putting them in gear and twisting the accelerator. I am a wimp.
‘Well said, old mole, canst work i' th' earth so fast?’ I said
‘A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.’
Bawa groaned. ‘Better to know how to remove a tyre than to spout this stuff.’
‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’
Bawa didn’t deign to reply, but got to work removing the tyre. We were not carrying a puncture kit for the tube - a bulky item, since it also involves carrying the big tyre irons to remove the tyre from wheel before you can access the inner tube. We had carried all this stuff on an earlier ride to Kashmir, but that had been quite a task even with Adi to help out. (See ‘Three Men Ride the Cliffhanger’). It was easier to load the wheel on bawa’s bike and take to the tyre repair guy.
Bawa tied the tyre to his backseat and went off in search of a puncture repair man - and I was left waiting by the wayside with a Long John Silver bike (one legged) and two sets of saddlebags.
‘What do we do now?’
‘Not much choice. Take off the tyre and mend the puncture.’
‘Ah…’
Bawa sighed and rolled his eyes.
‘You don’t know how to do it, do you?’
‘Not a clue.’
Bawa sighed again. ‘Fine. Take off your saddlebags.’
I know nothing about bikes apart from putting them in gear and twisting the accelerator. I am a wimp.
‘Well said, old mole, canst work i' th' earth so fast?’ I said
‘A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.’
Bawa groaned. ‘Better to know how to remove a tyre than to spout this stuff.’
‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’
Bawa didn’t deign to reply, but got to work removing the tyre. We were not carrying a puncture kit for the tube - a bulky item, since it also involves carrying the big tyre irons to remove the tyre from wheel before you can access the inner tube. We had carried all this stuff on an earlier ride to Kashmir, but that had been quite a task even with Adi to help out. (See ‘Three Men Ride the Cliffhanger’). It was easier to load the wheel on bawa’s bike and take to the tyre repair guy.
Bawa tied the tyre to his backseat and went off in search of a puncture repair man - and I was left waiting by the wayside with a Long John Silver bike (one legged) and two sets of saddlebags.
What to do now? I thought that I would sit there and see the scenery and think great thoughts - but I got bored within minutes.
What to do now?
Ah!
I will use this time to write something! Maybe I will be inspired to write some great literature!
I dug out my phone and a portable bluetooth keyboard I carry about, and opened a blank document.
Hmmm.
Let’s see now…
What shall I write about…
I looked around. Twiddled my fingers. Wrinkled my brow. Wiggled my ears.
Hmmm.
I know! I will take off my riding jacket. It’s so hot and uncomfortable.
I took my jacket.
Hmmm.
Hmmm.
Maybe I should take off my heavy riding pants as well. It’s so hot and uncomfortable.
I took off my pants.
Hmmm.
Hmmmm.
Bloody hell. I can’t take anything more off. What should I do now….
There wasn’t much traffic on this route, and very few people passed by. Finally a group of young people on bikes passed by and goggled at me sitting there with a one-legged bike and me sitting in my boxers!
‘OH NO’ they cried. ‘WHAT HAS HAPPENED? HAVE YOU BEEN STRIPPED AND RAPED?
‘No nonono…’ I replied, smartly sidling behind my bike. ‘I am fine…I just had a puncture, and my friend has gone off to get the repair done.’
‘BUT WHY ARE YOU NAKED BY THE ROADSIDE?’
‘Er…no… I just took off my riding gear….because it was…hot and uncomfortable…hehe…’
I quickly put on my pants, which seemed to comfort them a lot.
They were very nice boys indeed - genuine good samaritans who had stopped to help on seeing a biker in trouble, and we chatted for a bit.
‘What do you do?’ they asked.
‘I am a…writer…’ I replied, twisting my fingers. I don’t know why I should be embarrassed saying that. ‘Write books and all that rot y’know…’
‘Aaaah!’ they said, looking at my phone and keyboard.
Now everything was clear.
I was insane.
No wonder I was sitting there in my boxers, thinking of things to write!
What to do now?
Ah!
I will use this time to write something! Maybe I will be inspired to write some great literature!
I dug out my phone and a portable bluetooth keyboard I carry about, and opened a blank document.
Hmmm.
Let’s see now…
What shall I write about…
I looked around. Twiddled my fingers. Wrinkled my brow. Wiggled my ears.
Hmmm.
I know! I will take off my riding jacket. It’s so hot and uncomfortable.
I took my jacket.
Hmmm.
Hmmm.
Maybe I should take off my heavy riding pants as well. It’s so hot and uncomfortable.
I took off my pants.
Hmmm.
Hmmmm.
Bloody hell. I can’t take anything more off. What should I do now….
There wasn’t much traffic on this route, and very few people passed by. Finally a group of young people on bikes passed by and goggled at me sitting there with a one-legged bike and me sitting in my boxers!
‘OH NO’ they cried. ‘WHAT HAS HAPPENED? HAVE YOU BEEN STRIPPED AND RAPED?
‘No nonono…’ I replied, smartly sidling behind my bike. ‘I am fine…I just had a puncture, and my friend has gone off to get the repair done.’
‘BUT WHY ARE YOU NAKED BY THE ROADSIDE?’
‘Er…no… I just took off my riding gear….because it was…hot and uncomfortable…hehe…’
I quickly put on my pants, which seemed to comfort them a lot.
They were very nice boys indeed - genuine good samaritans who had stopped to help on seeing a biker in trouble, and we chatted for a bit.
‘What do you do?’ they asked.
‘I am a…writer…’ I replied, twisting my fingers. I don’t know why I should be embarrassed saying that. ‘Write books and all that rot y’know…’
‘Aaaah!’ they said, looking at my phone and keyboard.
Now everything was clear.
I was insane.
No wonder I was sitting there in my boxers, thinking of things to write!
After a long long time bawa returned, triumphantly bearing the repaired tyre!
The next day we set out along the main highway - the NH 15 , which runs from Guwahati, Assam to Wakro, Arunachal. This road runs along the Brahmaputra valley and is the lifeline of Assam and Arunachal and the single most important road of the North East.
And now that we were on this highway - we could check out the brand new Boghibeel bridge over the Brahmaputra!
As I mentioned earlier, the Brahmaputra is a long long river, and till recently there were hardly any bridges across it. So if you wanted to cross from Assam to Arunachal you had to go all the way to Tezpur - which is a hell of a long way off!
Infrastructure in North East really used to suck till some years back, and indeed this was one of the reasons behind the regional tensions and the emergence of terrorist secessionist groups here - the felt that the central government was not taking care of them and giving them step motherly treatment.
Spurred by this, and by the development agenda of the BJP government, there had been a lot of activity on developing and completing big infrastructure projects in NE, and this Boghibeel bridge was one their best accomplishments!
This bridge was an impressive pile - It is the 6th longest bridge in India and Asia's second longest rail-cum-road bridge. Bogibeel river bridge is the longest rail-cum-road bridge in India, measuring 4.94 kilometres over the Brahmaputra river - and it had been inaugurated by the Prime Minister just a few months ago.
And now that we were on this highway - we could check out the brand new Boghibeel bridge over the Brahmaputra!
As I mentioned earlier, the Brahmaputra is a long long river, and till recently there were hardly any bridges across it. So if you wanted to cross from Assam to Arunachal you had to go all the way to Tezpur - which is a hell of a long way off!
Infrastructure in North East really used to suck till some years back, and indeed this was one of the reasons behind the regional tensions and the emergence of terrorist secessionist groups here - the felt that the central government was not taking care of them and giving them step motherly treatment.
Spurred by this, and by the development agenda of the BJP government, there had been a lot of activity on developing and completing big infrastructure projects in NE, and this Boghibeel bridge was one their best accomplishments!
This bridge was an impressive pile - It is the 6th longest bridge in India and Asia's second longest rail-cum-road bridge. Bogibeel river bridge is the longest rail-cum-road bridge in India, measuring 4.94 kilometres over the Brahmaputra river - and it had been inaugurated by the Prime Minister just a few months ago.
Given all the hosannas, I was curious to see this bridge and ride on it. Actually we did not need to cross the bridge at all - our route lay on the north side of the river, where we already were. But we were going to cross this bridge just because we could!
My tax dollars at work, after all!
My tax dollars at work, after all!
I just loved that bridge, and we rode from end to end like demented people - standing up on the footpegs, shouting woohoo and stopping to take photos. It’s a good thing the cops didn’t catch us and interrogate us for suspicious behaviour.
