Chivalry is dead. Bikers are a crude and rude bunch. The value
system of the people of today is eroding.
These and many more such “paradigms” were destroyed,
re-written and re-defined on a Thursday, November 20, 2014 on my meeting with
the men from India Bull Riders or IBR as they are fondly called.
The story starts thus; three of us women riders decided to
attend Rider Mania’2014 in Goa. Initially this group was much larger but as the
journey dawned, the group whittled to us three souls who were willing
to brave the 600 km+ ride (one-way). We then decided to not do it by ourselves
cause its always about the journey and a journey is so much more nicer in a
large and fun group
.
In stepped one of the female riders, let’s call her ‘K’ who
suggested that we ride with the IBR gang. Now, to be honest, this is not a
group I had heard off before or perhaps I did and I wasn't too interested…so I had no clue, what to expect. The three of us however decided to go ahead and
ride with this bunch and they kindly agreed to include us in their ride plans.
(Most long distance riders are very picky about who they ride with, cause the
wrong company can absolutely kill your joy and sanity on a tasking journey.)
And from here on the journey took an interesting turn. Oh
and I say journey cause in our heads, once the plans are made the journey is
underway already, the actual act of getting on the road is just one step in the
process. So, ‘K’ first sends me a message from IBR's ride captain. What was it? A
link to a google doc with (ahem…clear throat) some meeting notes with minutes
of the meeting and job allocation by riders. Yeah yeah I will explain better.
So this link contained information on a meeting that was held earlier sometime,
where this group had met up to discuss ride plans. In these rides plans
decisions are made about who will run point who will sweep who will be the
marshal, who will carry what other responsibilities. Responsibilities include
first aid kit, spares and tyres and other assorted stuff that goes a long way
in ensuring that the ride is pleasurable one, rather than an arduous task. This doc contained very precise instructions
on the meeting points, the timing, what needs to be carried by whom…et all.
Honestly this in itself should’ve given me an inkling of what to expect, for I
am sure even organizations can take a leaf out of this particular club and
their preparedness, their preciseness and how everything is planned and thought
about to the last minute detail. This should have told me about their
discipline and the thought process that goes into everything. This is a special
group.
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So on the day of the ride we assemble at 4.00 am, quick
introductions are made and we get on the road. A total of 14 bikes make up our
entourage, and this includes our three bikes as well. We ride fast and we ride hard. And then some
hand signals happen…and all of a sudden all of the bikes move as one. It is
synchronicity at its best. Imagine this, the ride captain running point lifts
up his index finger pointing to the heavens and every single bike coalesces
into a single file. I've been part of dance troupes, and I know the level of
practice taken to achieve this kind of synchronicity, and you know that you are
part of a magical experience when total strangers come together to achieve that
synchrony. Every rider quickly loses his or her individuality and the entire
troupe lives and breathes as one big machine forming patterns on the road that
is both graceful, powerful and awe inspiring. A bunch of hand signals happen. Again
initiated by the ride captain leading the group, this time two fingers go up –
in a victory sign of sorts and the group splits into two lanes. This formation
increases the speed of the group and
swallows every vehicle on the road moving to the left and right, swallowing
trucks, cars and bikes caught in its wake and spitting them out at the end of
the train. 
You know you are experiencing something beautiful and
amazing when most adult on the road have their mouths open and eyes widened and
every child waves, claps and has a grin splitting their faces. All of this
discipline means that we make such amazing time that we are then ahead of
schedule and can afford more breaks than what was initially planned for…yup…breaks
are planned for too, except ofcourse for those that make no announcements such
as break downs or loss of bladder control!
The entire speed of the group is maintained by the ride
captain who periodically gives instructions with an upward wave of a hand - increase
speed, a downward wave of the hand - decrease speed, point to the road -
pothole, indicate a line on the road - a speed breaker. Each one looks out for
the other.
It didn't matter, who we are, where we came from, what our
background was and the fact that several in the group are total strangers, we
were part of something that was bigger than us. We were part of an experience
that bound us from a place that defies logic, we all understood each other
perfectly, we watched out for each other, we laughed and shared moments of joy
and drew strength and inspiration from each other. There were no facades, there
were no pretentions, we were just a bunch of riders riding to a common destination
on machines that had a strong commonality – the BULLET. I am not sure if the
machine chooses the man or the man chooses the machine for the styling of the
machine is reflected in the owner of the machine.
Total strangers, who turned out to be exceptional gentlemen,
never underestimating us as women, and never over indulging us cause we were
women. We were riders and every rider irrespective of his or her gender
deserved respect cause the machine we ride demands respect. No man or woman
astride this machine can deny that call to give and get respect in equal
measure. This group embodied and epitomized those values. This group of men I
am proud to say I rode with and am associated with and I thank this group of
men for keeping alive those values that separate the chaff from the seed and for
being more than men and reclaiming the term ‘Gentlemen’.
Cheers IBR.
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