Princess Leia - 'We've lost lateral controls!'
Han Solo - 'Don't worry. She'll hold together'.
Han Solo looks at the walls of his ship beseechingly - 'Come on baby, hold together!'
It was 4.30pm, on a sandy side of a busy national highway, 100km away from Rishikesh, An hour left before full dark.
My bag was hanging off the back of the bike. The rack, which had held together so valiantly since the crash, was sagging and twisted. First one bolt, then another, then a third had sheared off. There was no way it could take the weight of my luggage. It looked like it was being held on by force of will. `The whole frame could go at any minute. I wasn't sure what I should do.
Thirty minutes after sunrise, I was on the road. Hissar receding behind me as I tore up the road towards Ambala, 190km away. It was another 200km to Rishikesh from there. Bearing in mind my early start, I estimated, cautiously, that I would be there by 4pm.
But India has a way of making even cautious estimates seem like wild fancies.
The road was good. An even surface, no potholes. Even markings now and again. Trees, elms I think, grew along either side, making a tunnel like canopy. It was quite narrow granted, one lane each way, but easily possible to make a steady 80km an hour on.
Ot it would have been if not for the traffic.
Its not like it is in Delhi, so much traffic that you cant move (although it gets close to that kind of snarl when the highway goes through some of the cities). Its the variety of the traffic that makes it slow. There are so many different types, all with different needs, speeds, and driving styles, that makes the pace little better than a crawl.
There are of course pedestrians. And Bicycles. Some times the bicycles have more than one person on them. Sometimes they are laden down with goods. Sometimes they are pulling something, such as a stall, cart or rickshaw.
There are bikes. Almost completely 125's, Hondas and Pulsars. Some new and zippy, some old and knackered. Some carry up to four or even five people. Some are laden with milk churns, pots and pans, candy floss, building supplies, gas cylinders, animal feed, blankets. I even saw one with a live sheep stuffed into a side pannier. It looked rather nonplussed. Some drive slowly, some overtake eve which way they can.
Then there are TukTuks. Three wheeled, motorcycle engined little dogem cars. There could be any number of people inside. I saw one with at least fifteen in.
Probably slowest are the animal carts. in Rajesthan there are a lot of dray Camels, and even the occasional elephant, but today there were also horses and bullocks. They crawl along.
The farm vehicles are also very slow. Tractos (I hate tractors) pulling loads of sticks that take up the whole lane. Or bundles of hay almost house high. Or manure or animal feed or other farm stuff.
There are of course lots of wild animals too. well semi wild. Dogs running about. Several wild pigs today.Not so many donkeys, sheep or goats, but lots of cows. I was almost caught up between two bullocks with their horns locked in combat in one town today.
The goods vehicles are many and varied. The big trucks make Eddie Stobart's livery look drab and boring. Some of them are piled so high with bags that they look as if they might topple off at any minute. But they come in all shapes and sizes. Some of the smaller ones carry side bags full of something, and they look like they are carrying a bouncy castle on the back. Ones carrying building materials are nasty because sand and grit escapes from their load and hits you in the face.
The buses are very quick. They thinner down the road blaring horns. Some are knackered old local buses, some sparkling new tourist coaches. They are always in a hurry, always trying to overtake, and three times today forced me off the road.
My least favourite vehicles are the cars though. They are the fastest on the road, and sneak up behind you, surprise and then deafen you with their horns, overtake and force you off your line.
With all these different vehicle rhythms on a 1 lane road, the pace is often a crawl. The quicker and more manoeuvrable vehicles, can to an extent make better time - overtaking and weaving through when it is very slow, but it is a dangerous game to play.
Every twenty or so kilometres, the road passes through a town. They look small on the map, but there are literally thousands of people in the streets when you go through. Traffic snarls up and slows to a standstill.
When the third bolt went, and the frame started clanging, I pulled over. It was 4.30, an hour of sunlight, and at the pace i was going at, at least 3 hours driving still to be done.
I took a deep breath. If I couldn't put the luggage on the rack, then I would have to balance it on the seat. There are so many overladen Indian bikes, that I knew it could be done, but I didn't like the idea.
When I had finished, it towered precariously, my big brown bag at the bottom, then the tin box holding spares and tools, then a small rucksack with my cold weather gear in. When I set off, I could feel it swaying behind me, but it held.
My average sped had already gone down from 70, to 60, to 50 and then 40. With the luggage directly behind me, the rack held on by a prayer and night falling, my average went down to about 20km and hour.
When night fell, visibility dropped to about 20 foot. Not because of the lack of light - there was more than enough traffic with headlights on to see, but the dust and pollution made the air like a smog.
I crawled along the side of the road, cursing the poor driving, praying that the rack didn't shear off completely and that the road held.
Pat of me was frustrated, part of me irritated, part of me tired and desperate to get there. And yet, I found myself grinning and laughing too. This is what biking in India is really about.
I limped into Rishikesh about 8pm. The traffic had died down for the last 2km, but apart from that it was choked all the way.
'Come on baby, hold together'
And she did.
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