Nandi Hills – A Rider’s Paradise

Have you ever woken up to the sounds of nature early in the morning? Rustling leaves, whistling winds, chirping birds and also, accompanying these sounds, a peaceful silence of sorts. Sounds blissful, right? Early mornings are perhaps the best time of day - fresh air, beautiful sunrises, brilliant weather and (almost) zero traffic. What else could you possibly ask for?

That’s exactly the kind of morning I had in mind when I went to bed on the first of October, 2019. My faithful alarm was set to wake me up at 2:30 AM the following day. So ridiculously early because that day was going to be a very special day. That was the day I finally got to cycle to Nandi Hills. Located just a few kilometers outside of Bangalore city, with a 5.8% average gradient and 400m elevation gain spread across (roughly) 7 kilometers, these hills are an ideal destination for leisure and professional cyclists alike.

Since I lived farther away from the rendezvous location than the riders accompanying me, and since the whole deal was going to take us a good 10-12 hours, we had decided to leave as early as possible so as to beat the heat on our way back. For me, that meant getting up as early as 2:30 AM.

It didn’t matter to me though. I was too excited and honestly had no problems waking up that early whatsoever. In fact, looking back I recall that I hadn’t slept much anyway due to the excitement building up within. But when I was woken up by nature at 2 AM on 2nd October 2019, I didn’t feel anything that even felt remotely blissful and all my excitement vanished in the blink of an eye.

I woke up to howling winds, swaying trees, banging windows, and the lashing sound of raindrops on asbestos sheets. My mood fell like a crashing pyramid of cards. I was devastated. Nature had betrayed me. And out of all the days, it chose 2nd October, the one day I had been eagerly looking forward to. All the images of sunny days, countryside roads and breathtaking views faded from my head like an old photograph.

I immediately called Prashanth, a fellow rider and started panicking. I complained of wet roads, lashing winds, pouring rains, and how riding was going to be impossible. I was hysterical. For so many months I’d been dreaming of riding to Nandi Hills and conquering its climb. And that day was simply a perfect time to go, until the rains took things into their own hands. But when Prashanth told me that the ride was on no matter sun or storm, I finally calmed down. The ride was still on.

A surge of energy recharged me as I got ready and rode to the rendezvous location to meet the other members of the team at around 4:30 AM. We were a total of 5 riders – Prashanth Sampath, Prashanth Shaji, Nitin, Balaji sir and I. The rains had calmed down to a drizzle and I can’t put into words how grateful I was. As I warmed up with the other riders, I analyzed the adventure that awaited me - 160 kms (involving a climb and a descent), wet roads (resulting in reduced grip) and a cloudy sky (which meant no sunlight to shine and dry the roads ASAP). Each challenge pumped me up; the excitement constantly rocketing skywards.

As we rode towards Nandi, the clouds were everywhere (orange-yellow towards the east) and the weather

a little cooler than what we’d ideally hoped for. The problem with cold weather (especially when your gear is already wet) is that it reduces the overall body temperature. For cycling, a warm body is essential for physical performance. Fortunately though, the sun had finally made an appearance and gave us respite from the cold, wet and gloomy weather.

Things started to get better from there on. We maintained a steady pace and ventured forward. The only thing driving me was the satisfaction of conquering the climb and the view from above. In no time, we reached the base and oh what a wonderful sight I experienced! The area was filled with all sorts of early risers – trekkers, joggers, cyclists, motorcyclists, etc.

We grabbed a quick bite to charge ourselves up before the climb. I, personally, connected my earphones to my mobile and played the bassy and adrenaline-pumping playlist that I had created to motivate and push me throughout the climb. 7 kms of climb might not sound like much, but considering the fact that I’d already covered 65 kms from home, it was going to be a tough challenge. I was as ready as I could’ve ever been as I began my climb.

Very soon I was exhausted.

The climb was much harder than I had imagined. My legs ached like crazy; my thighs would’ve been yelling and swearing at me if they had a voice. I had to ensure I applied just the right amount of power, so as to avoid nasty muscle pulls. Every time I looked at the steep road ahead, my legs begged for mercy, for me to stop, to take a break. But no, I had waited ages for that very moment; I had been mentally preparing myself for way too long to give up. Looking back was not even an option; the phrase was non-existent. I was here for one reason and one reason only – conquer the damn climb, non-stop and without any breaks.

Every inch of my body ached for some respite, but I was hell bent on accomplishing what I had set out to achieve. Phrases like “Shut up legs” and “Don’t stop just yet” painted on the road did wonders as they kept pushing me ahead, albeit in single-digit speeds. Towards the end of the climb, I was fully exhausted; I was running on fumes. I looked down at the tarmac sliding underneath the tyres and just kept pushing relentlessly. Sweat burned my eyes, my thighs were numb with pain, yet I kept at it.

Finally, I had reached the top! I was in utter disbelief. I had made it. I had climbed the famous

Nandi Hills. I was at the top. My muscles completely gave up as I stopped the cycle, got off, and simply laid down on the road and gasped miserably for fresh air. My lungs inflated like giant balloons and my legs screamed in agony. They didn’t even bother to make themselves felt. They went numb, completely. (Is that even possible? To be in pain and feel numb at the same time?)

Although I was lying on the road, I was on top of the world. I was elated. The sense of accomplishment was massive. I’d never felt so good about myself ever before. I was in peace as I closed my eyes and soaked in the vibe of the place. The day flashed in my head like a fast forwarded movie and I smiled at how tragically it had begun and how it then went on to become better and better.

I had no idea that it was going to get even better yet. And nothing could’ve prepared me for the dangerously quick descent.

After a quick photoshoot, and interactions with a few professional riders, we began the descent.

I knew from simple physics that it was going to be as fast as the ascent was slow. But I had no idea of how fast that was. Even with zero input, the wheels of my road bike rolled effortlessly, gathering speed as if it were a joke. Since I live for speed, I loved what was going on. I added to the speed by pedaling like crazy and slamming the brakes every time I approached a corner. In fact I was so fast that I went in too hot into the first two corners and almost hit the edge and fell off. It doesn’t sound like much when I put it in words. But when you’re entering a corner at 40 kmph on a cycle, you can see the fall beyond the edge of the road and if you don’t lean enough, it’s scary. That along with your mind freaking out and your body preparing for death (with an extra shot of adrenaline into my already adrenaline soaked system) accounts for a horrifying experience. Thanks to the extra shot of adrenaline, I went full throttle. Speeds like 50 kmph came up easily on the speedometer and we were the fastest moving vehicles on the roads. We were one with the road, swaying with it on the corners, shooting through on straights and constantly putting pedal to the metal. We could squeeze through insanely tight gaps while carrying blinding fast speeds at the same time. Prashanth and I overtook all sorts of vehicles from both sides and I felt like Tom Cruise riding the BMW S1000RR in Mission Impossible 4.

Believe it or not, the fastest speed clocked that day on the speedo was 75 kmph. Yes you read that right - 75 KMPH ON A BICYCLE. Its okay if you don’t believe me right away, because even today it amazes me that my cycle was capable of doing such insane speeds and I was capable of pushing her that far. Till this day, I haven’t been able to beat that record. That moment in all possibility will go on to be the brightest moment of my career (unless I race in Tour de France, the greatest race on Earth for cyclists)

Before I could even realize, I was done with the descent. In a matter of few minutes, I reached the base. It took a grueling 45 minutes of pure pain to climb and an effortless lightning quick 10 minutes to descent. There was so much energy and adrenaline inside me I’m surprised that I didn’t burst that day. It was simply one of the very best days of my cycling career.

We had a light and well deserved breakfast at the base and set out on the hardest part of the trip – the ride back home. By the time we left, it was late morning and the sun was compensating for its late appearance by shining harder than required. The group split up as everyone tried to maintain their momentum and used their own strategies to ride. I had to literally drag myself on the way back home; the occasional energy bar providing me just enough energy so that I don’t faint. Although my energy reserves were empty by the time I entered the city, I ate one last bar and rode home as fast as I could, my motivation this time being the comfort of my bed. It was 2 PM by the time I finally reached home.

I was drained. I was exhausted. I was tanned. My legs couldn’t support my weight anymore. Despite all the fun and adventure one has outside, nothing can ever beat the feeling of returning home after a day well spent. I ate my lunch, showered, and went straight to bed. Only to awake 18 hours later the following morning. I hadn’t even bothered for dinner that night. The satisfaction of the day was good enough.

Author: Shashank