The Road Never Gets Old

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…”

There are songs that you don’t just listen to. You live them.

Every time I hear those opening lines of Hotel California, I can almost feel myself riding through a dark stretch of road, the wind rushing past, the throttle responding to the slightest twist of my wrist, and the engine humming beneath me. There is something about riding a motorcycle on an open road that is incredibly difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it.

It isn’t just about speed. It is the feeling of being completely present in that moment. The rush of wind against your body, the sound of the engine, the way you lean into a curve, the subtle adjustments you make with the handlebar and throttle, and the endless stretch of road unfolding in front of you. On a straight road, you feel the freedom. On a curve, you feel the connection between you, the machine, and the road.

For me, riding has always been more than a way of getting somewhere.

I have done long rides before, including stretches of over 1,000 kilometres, travelled through village roads, and taken on off-road terrain that tested both the machine and the rider. You would imagine that after all these years, the excitement would eventually wear off. That perhaps, as you get older, you would start looking for a little more comfort and a little less adventure.

Apparently, that hasn’t happened to me.

If anything, my recent rides have made the pull of motorcycling even stronger.

Three days at India’s Grand Canyon

My recent ride to Gandikota was one of those experiences that reminded me why I still love being on two wheels.

Gandikota, often called India’s Grand Canyon, is a remarkable place. The Penna River cuts through enormous stretches of rocky landscape, creating a dramatic gorge that feels almost otherworldly. The rugged terrain, the vast expanse of rock, and the sheer scale of the landscape make it a place you want to spend time in rather than simply visit, take a few photographs, and leave.

The dramatic gorge that captures the destination.

I spent three days there, soaking in the place and enjoying the break from the usual routine. There is something particularly satisfying about arriving at a destination on a motorcycle. You haven’t simply travelled to the place; you have experienced the landscape along the way. Every turn, every change in terrain, every little stretch of road becomes part of the memory.

The dramatic gorge that captures the destination.

And then, of course, there is the ride back.

Because a motorcycle trip is never just about the destination. Sometimes, the journey back becomes the story itself.

The road from Gandikota to Bangalore

The stretch from Gandikota towards Bangalore was not exactly the kind of road a rider dreams about. For a considerable part of the journey, the highway conditions were poor, and the ride demanded more attention than enjoyment.

Bad roads have a way of reminding you that riding isn’t always about opening the throttle and enjoying the wind. Sometimes, it is about patience, reading the road ahead, managing your speed, choosing your line carefully, and knowing when not to push.

You learn to respect the road because the road doesn’t care how experienced you are.

Eventually, I reached Bangalore, spent time with relatives, and enjoyed a different kind of pause before the final leg of the journey.

And then came the Bangalore > Hyderabad highway.

567 kilometres. 7 hours and 44 minutes.

There are some stretches of road that make you fall in love with riding all over again.

The highway from Bangalore to Hyderabad was one of them. After the rougher roads earlier in the trip, this was the kind of road that makes you settle into a rhythm. The road opens up, the motorcycle finds its stride, and you begin to appreciate the machine in a completely different way.

The twin-cylinder engine has its own character. There is something deeply satisfying about the sound, the response when you roll on the throttle, and the way the bike gathers speed. The clutch, the throttle, the gears after years of riding, these movements become almost instinctive. You aren’t consciously thinking about every action. You are responding to the road.

I never imagined that I would cover 567 kilometres in just 7 hours and 44 minutes, including breaks along the way.

When I finally reached Hyderabad, I called my cousin to let him know I had arrived. His reaction is something I still remember. He gave me an earful.

“You are riding a bike, not driving a car!”

And honestly, I could understand his concern.

But what he perhaps couldn’t fully appreciate was the experience behind that ride the familiarity with the machine, the reading of the road, the judgement involved in maintaining a steady pace, and the discipline of knowing when to slow down. Experience gives you confidence, but it should also teach you restraint. A fast ride is never worth compromising safety, and a good rider knows that the road always has the final say.

Still, I couldn’t help smiling at his reaction.

For me, it wasn’t simply about reaching Hyderabad quickly. It was about the sheer satisfaction of that stretch of road, the rhythm of the ride, and the feeling of having completed another memorable journey.

Growing older, but not growing out of it

I suppose this is where the question of age comes in.

As we grow older, our preferences change. Comfort begins to matter more. People who once enjoyed travelling on a motorcycle may eventually prefer the convenience of a car, with its air-conditioning, comfortable seats, and protection from the weather.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But somewhere along the way, I seem to have held on to this particular love affair with motorcycles.

Even when a car would have been the easier choice, I have often found myself drawn to the bike. There is a certain honesty to the experience. You feel the heat, the cold, the wind, the changing road conditions, and the distance. You are exposed to the journey in a way that you simply aren’t inside a car.

And that is precisely what makes it special.

My bikes, whether it is my old Classic Electra or the Interceptor 650, have given me different experiences, but the feeling remains the same. The machine changes, the roads change, and the kilometres add up, but that moment when you get on the bike, start the engine, and set off still carries the same excitement.

Perhaps that is what I enjoy most. The years may have passed, but the feeling hasn’t gone away. If anything, I appreciate it more now because I understand just how much those moments mean.

I have no illusions about being younger than I am. I know that age brings its own considerations, and experience should make us wiser, not reckless. But getting older doesn’t necessarily mean giving up the things that make us feel alive.

For me, riding is one of those things.

The next time I find myself on an open highway, with the twin-cylinder engine humming beneath me and the wind rushing past, I know exactly what will happen. Somewhere in the back of my mind, those familiar opening lines will begin playing again.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…”

And I will probably find myself humming along, smiling inside my helmet, and wondering where the next road will take me.

Because some loves don’t fade with age. They simply gather more stories.

And as long as I can ride, I suspect the road and I still have a few more stories to tell.

Disclaimer: Age teaches you a couple of other things along the way. Patience and women, for instance both, in their own ways, teach you that not everything responds to brute force or a heavy hand. You learn to understand, to listen, to ease off when necessary, and to realise that experience often matters more than enthusiasm. Just like riding a bike, some things in life are best handled with a little patience, a little finesse, and a lot of experience!