Manas Dewan takes a solo journey from Delhi to Srinagar on a Suzuki Intruder, and finds that you’re not alone when you have an Intruder, and the road, for company
“A journey of a thousand miles begin with a single step,” so goes the saying. In my case, it was with a phone call to my friend, biking partner, and one of the Editors of autoX, Ashish Jha. I was scheduled to go to Srinagar for a few days on some work, so a gem of an idea cropped up, ‘Why fly, when you can Bike?’ But time was short, we had only two weeks to execute the plan. And the countdown to the ride was perhaps the longest two weeks ever.
“Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Indira Gandhi Airport, New Delhi,” the pilot announced over the PA system. The long wait was finally over – this was the day. In the meantime, some water had flown under the bridge. Ashish gave in to work pressure, and had to stay in Delhi. And, thus, it came about that Yours Truly started out on a ‘solo’ bike trip from Delhi to Srinagar, and beyond, in the cold of November! The bike, therefore, had to be special. It had to be reliable enough to withstand the demanding terrain, long hours of riding, and severe temperatures. It had to be spacious enough to carry some basics for the trip, and, most importantly, it had to reward, rather than punish, the rider for the extended duration on the saddle. So, when the Suzuki Intruder came up as an option, the choice was unanimous.
The moment of reckoning – I was armoured, and ready. Ashish hands over the bike keys to me – his grin was severely strained. He was head-over-heels for this bike, and just hated to part with it. For the umpteenth time, he muttered “I wish I could have come.” Meanwhile, for me, time stood still. There she was, the Intruder, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off this beauty. The proud lift of the headlamps, the deep saddle, the raised rear seat, the muscular profile, the soft tail – each of these elements blended seamlessly to make a near perfect silhouette! The wide tyres, the generous amounts of chrome and the saucer sized disc brake, all promised the perfect combination of craftsmanship, opulence and practicality to create a fascinating package – one upon which a lot would depend in the coming days.
With my trip essentials strapped on the pillion seat and a full tank of gas, the Intruder was close to 300kgs in weight. As I gently eased the clutch, the bike ambled forward. The sound of the engine was a gentle purr – suave and sophisticated, impressing not so much by the decibel but by the baritone. The seat was broad and comfortable enough to qualify as a couch rather than a motorcycle seat.The low stance ensured that the rider is comfortable and well planted even when the bike is stationary, or while negotiating steep curves – a necessity, considering the weight of this cruiser.
And so it came about that I started off on a journey of about 3,000 kilometers. And I followed the bikers’ creed: “Trust the road, trust the bike, trust yourself, and try to experience to the fullest whatever lies ahead of you.”
As I got into the city traffic of Delhi, I gingerly urged the bike forward. It was well balanced, power delivery was quite smooth, and the bike felt incredibly stable! Soon enough, there were a swarm of admirers around me – following the bike, waving out, smiling and commenting, while, from inside cars, mobiles flashed as people clicked pictures of this star on the road. I know, now, what it feels like to be a celebrity – and I basked in the halo of the Intruder majestically prancing through the streets of Delhi.
This being Delhi, a traffic jam proved the perfect conversation catalyst – soon, there were a flurry of questions. How expensive is it? What’s the mileage? What Make is it? I patiently explained. Little did I know that the same set of questions would remain with me for the entire duration of the trip. I labored on. Finally, the official city limits of Delhi were breached, and the long road to Srinagar stretched out ahead.
A slight twist of the throttle sent plenty of horses to the rear wheel – aided, of course, by the efficient shaft drive that distinguishes the Intruder. This was one smooth customer – never a sputter or a sudden reaction, the wheels simply moved in perfect unison to the bikers’ wishes. I held the bike to a steady 110 to 120km/h most of the way – fast enough to not have to worry about your tail, yet slow enough to be able to react to unforeseen road situations (read erratic traffic, feather-headed humans and farm animals). At this speed, the intruder, all of 805cc’s was barely breathing hard. At 140km/h and beyond, you can feel that the beast is beginning to push, and at 160 it runs out of breath. Yet, the stability was impressive – thanks primarily to the wide handlebars, long wheelbase, good weight distribution, and efficient aerodynamics. I have rarely known another bike that can parallel the Intruder in terms of ride quality on the highway.
Having started from Delhi only by afternoon, my initial idea was to halt at Ambala for the night, but I was having such a good time that I never realized when I had left the city behind! And, as I grew more-and-more comfortable on the Intruder, I wished that this day would never end – the road, the bike, and me made the perfect trio, and I was in no mood to call it quits in order to spend my evening channel surfing in some alien hotel. So, I pushed on. Finally, it was around 8:30 in the evening that I reached Jalandhar, and decided to take a break for the night. I was far ahead of my target distance for the day, and could barely wait for daylight when I would be astride this friendly giant again.
The next morning was a typical winter day, and the pale rays of the sun could barely dispel the dense fog that surrounded the streets of Jalandhar. But, despite that, people invariably gravitated towards this massive bike as I made my way out of Jalandhar. A quick lunch at Jammu, and I was off on my way again.
The NH1A, as it’s called, is a 650-plus kilometer highway that starts from Jalandhar. It passes through Jammu, and ascends the steep ranges of the PirPanjal range of the outer Himalayas, passing through hamlets like Patnitop, Ramban and Banihal on the Jammu side of the state. Then comes the spectacular Jawahar Tunnel – a tunnel that connects Jammu and mainland India with Kashmir. The first town is Qazigund, and a little less than hundred kilometers ahead lies the Dal lake and Srinagar city. The NH1A continues further till the border town of Uri, along the road to Pakistan. In short, this highway is the lifeline of the Northern-most State of India. The condition of the road surprised me, as it was better than most of our city roads. ‘BEACON,’ the Border Roads outfit that maintains it, must be lauded for their work in harsh terrain, extreme weather, and high altitude.
Needles to say, the PirPanjal range offered some exciting loops and hairpins en route. To begin with, I was a little hesitant. After all, this was a cruiser and not a regular motorbike. The weight, turning radius, and long wheelbase – the hallmarks of this cruiser – could become potential liabilities in this mountainous terrain. So, as I approached the first steep set of corners, I gently eased the Intruder into the curve – trying a slight lean to see how she reacts. Perfect, she was unperturbed. Encouraged, I increased the lean at the next turn – taking it slightly faster, adding a little throttle into the curve. This Intruder had spunk, as it matched me turn-for-turn without missing a heartbeat even once. After some steep turns, you can hear the fan come on to cool the engine, but, that apart, the Intruder performed as good as a regular bike on the steep slopes of the PirPanjals.
Over the next week, this large, but nimble, beast gave me company for over 12 hours each day. We tackled the terrain together, soaked up the sun and the cold together, and admired the panoramas together. We also made a lot of new friends as we travelled, not just across well tarred roads, but even through country lanes and the interiors of the Kashmir valley. And, over the 2,800-plus kilometers, not for a moment did I feel handicapped by the size, the pulling power, or the ground clearance of the bike. Of course, being a cruiser, one doesn’t expect it to replicate the capability of a dirt bike, nor the performance of a sports bike, but the Intruder proved itself to be a robust, reliable, and extremely friendly vehicle.
Soon, the hours on the saddle turned into days. The landscape, panorama, and the people around me also took on different forms and hues. And, through it all, there was a single enduring desire to hold back time and to continue riding this magnificent machine. So, it was, after 8 days, I was back in Delhi. And, as I handed back the keys of the intruder back to Ashish, my smile appeared strained – and his grin grew longer-and-longer till it stretched from ear-to-ear. Honestly, a Cheshire cat could have taken lessons from Ashish. And why not, the Intruder is such a splendid motorbike that it’s bound to win over the heart of most bikers.
All said and done, this solo trip convinced me that unless I were to do something stupid on the saddle, the Intruder is a bike that I could rely on to take me to the remotest places, and back, in comfort and style. It won me over completely, and it’s to this incredible riding machine that I owe my most wonderful solo riding experience. God bless Intruders!
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