Of all the existing arguments in the world, the debate between what’s better, beaches or mountains, is perennial. It has existed since the existence of these nature’s masterpieces. For a motorcycle-enabled vagabond, this dissension becomes even more prominent. The adrenaline fix after decimating fast flowing corners that slice their way through deep gorges or the calm that takes over one’s mind while riding alongside a vast sea. The dilemma, is real. To settle this disagreement, one has to be one with the mountains and the sea. When the voices inside the head get louder, people and their arguments louder, a wanderer seeks refuge in the screams and silences of mother nature. When the same arguments surrounded me, I knew what I had to do. The Sahyadris were calling and the Arabian Sea was not far behind either. It was time to scram. Away from the urban cacophony, scrambling away all the plans and responsibilities. The self-assigned tasks were simple: to settle this ceaseless dispute that a person can either be a beach person or a mountain person. And, to choose a motorcycle that would enable me. A motorcycle that would give me an upper hand over all the elements, certain and uncertain.
Having wandered my way around in Sahyadris and alongside Arabin sea, I knew the motorcycle would have to play multiple roles. The role of being a tarmac scorcher, dancing its way around bends and the role of being a famished maniac, gobbling up anything and everything that comes in its way. Both roles, during the same expedition. I knew just the motorcycle for the job. Which could pull it all off, with sublime grace, while looking gorgeous and up for war at the same time. A day before I had decided to set off, the Triumph Scrambler 400X arrived. Accessorized for the expedition with an additional beak, windscreen, crash guards and a luggage rack. Dressed up like a warrior queen who is about to enter a battlefield. A battlefield to thwart the perennial argument.
I like hitting the road before the sun splatters its hues for I believe that the world is at its calmest during the wee hours. If you’re up and about, the sun god would oblige you with his first rays, often termed as golden light. Me and the Triumph Scrambler 400X couldn’t have missed out on this roadtrip ritual to commence the journey by witnessing a gorgeous sunrise. When the world was fast asleep, we were making good pace towards Lonavala and we managed to reach just in time, given the subdued urgency with which the Scrambler 400X gobbled up the first 100 kilometres. A hot cup of chai to wake up the rest of the brain and a plate of piping hot pakoras to set the foundation for the day, little bits of happiness were enjoyed with the Scrambler 400X parked by my side. It was in anticipation. It wanted to Scramble. Motorcycles talk, you just ought to listen.
Before deciding where to start the case of beaches vs Mountains, we wanted to have some fun and Lonavala became the playground. We danced about for a while, which resulted in hunger for more corners. The Scrambler was hungry too, now that its deep-treaded tyres and its sidewalls had kissed the tarmac violently. It was settled then, we wanted to dance a bit more. With Sahyadris in the backdrop. Then it began, the smooth sprint towards Mahabaleshwar, Maharashtra’s one of the choicest hill stations. A 6-lane highway at our disposal meant that we were constantly cruising at triple digit speeds. The extended windscreen which is an official accessory and comfortable ergonomics made sure that breaks were less frequent. Still, whenever we stopped, we made sure that there was a landscape to gawk at.
Right before entering Mahabaleshwar, our hunger for more corners was satiated by a lovely ghat section, setting the course of next day’s carnage. Since it was time for the sun to hide behind the horizon, we decided to call it a day. For a change, sunlight preceded alarm clocks and deadlines. Because unknowingly, we found ourselves up and about before the sunrise. The quest for more corners and more gorgeous vistas bestowed by the Sahyadri range had begun. Since I had already been there, I knew Lodwick point and Elephant’s head would be the perfect spots to start the day as they’re situated right at a cliff’s edge, overlooking an immense part of the Sahyadri range. Destiny had other plans for me and the Scrambler. It wanted us to head out there, to places we haven’t been before.
On a lonely stretch of the road, my eyes caught hold of an old gentleman selling freshly picked strawberries. Not only did he have some of the juiciest berries I had ever tasted, he also had one suggestion for the seeker in me: “Go to Ambenali Ghat. There you will find what you have been looking for.” My previous travel experiences dictate that one should always consider a local’s opinion and that’s what we did.
An ultimate test for the Scrambler’s riding dynamics, that’s what Ambenali Ghat turned out to be as it had a series of bends after bends, of every sort. Smooth winding roads with some unannounced broken patches alerting the senses every once in a while. Despite so many elements at work in tandem, the Scrambler never lost its composure. I flicked it and it complied. I let it loose over rough patches and it complied. Its tractable and potent powertrain meant that I had less things to focus on. I could leave the Scrambler in a higher gear and still exit corners with urgency to slay the next. Despite having a 19-inch front wheel and dual-purpose tyres, the Scrambler 400X made sure that it was holding the lines that I desired. Light front end infused confidence to be relentless and focused. Amidst this carnage, I looked over to the other side of the road. The old strawberry gentleman wasn’t lying.
The euphoria of riding an agile motorcycle in the ghats made me forget about the vistas. Reality check. I came here to settle an argument, not to set the fastest time to climb Ambenali Ghat. This thought made me pull up the Scrambler on one of the vantage points where one could see the Sahyadris in all their might. That’s the thing about mountains, no? When the sun is setting, they seem more mystical, formidable and sort of scary and when the glorious sunlight is falling over them, the energy that one can extract out of these mountains can enable you to win over the world. While being on top of it.
The vastness of the Sahyadri range made me question a lot of things: including our existence and the miniscule issues that don’t let us sleep at night. Do they really matter in the grander scheme of things? What is it that really matters? What really matters for a wanderer is to go out there in the shelter of mother nature. Now that we had answered the call of mountains, it was now time to ride alongside the ocean. I looked over and the Scrambler looked all the more purposeful. It had tasted what wandering about felt like and it wanted to do it, again and a lot more.
Off we were, in search of some of the most scenic roads in this part of the world. It had been a few days since we were out of the arrest of materialistic things, with the terrain and landscapes reflecting the same. Barren. Beautiful. As the quest raged on, the adrenaline fix that we had received after riding in the mountains boosted our March. The Scrambler disposed off Maharashtra’s back roads like it was destined for that. Little did we know that we were soon going to slow down a lot. Because of a lot of things.
From rainforests to palm trees, there were a lot of things that were changing at a rapid pace and then it appeared, a vast blue nothingness. First, playing hide and seek behind the canopies and then revealing itself in all its visual and aural glory. Everything else faded away as it was just the shrieks of the ocean ravaging and caressing the shore at the same time. The coastal route had begun. We had our own Pacific Coast Highway, Konkan edition. And then it ended for the day with me and the Scrambler at the beach, witnessing the last few minutes of the sun being gulped by the ocean. Of all the colors I had seen on this roadtrip, the orange hues splattered at the golden hour on the west coast were one of the most glorious. We were hungry again.
And our hunger for more such visual and spiritual grandeur was soon satiated as we found ourselves on multiple ferries the next day. With no destination in mind, the whole day was reserved for beach hopping. Or read, beach scrambling. Each scrambling from one beach to the other involved a lot of back road action. I had some delicious konkani delicacies for food while the Scrambler ate bad roads. Riding alongside the sea and pulling up for it to kiss our feet was a rather transformative experience, in every way imaginable. You feel small but with a purpose. The mountains make you see while the oceans make you feel. You can sense it more with your eyes closed. As the sun was slowly marching towards the ocean floor, I knew just the spot to culminate this roadtrip and settle the argument.
A place where the foothills of Sahyadris were being kissed violently by the Arabian Sea. A place where it all made sense and then nothing made sense at all. A place which made me smile, feel ecstatic. A place which made me cry, feel blank. And that brought me to the argument. Does it really matter? Which is better? They are both nature’s masterpieces and deserve to be explored responsibly, experienced the way they’re supposed to be.
They talk too. You just ought to listen.
Don’t be strangled in these stupid arguments. Be a wanderer. Seek answers out there. And take my advice, make sure that you are accompanied by a motorcycle that complements the wanderer in you. That allows you to be carefree and be a little reckless. That looks gorgeous and purposeful at the same time. I am glad I made the right choice in the Triumph Scrambler 400X.
Until we scramble, yet again… until we settle arguments, yet again…
Watch our visual masterpiece that we created from the same trip here.
