Downpour is dreaded by all. Especially if you live in a cramped up, filthy city like we do. Outside city limits it’s quite heavenly. But Bombay usually turns into quite a mess around this time of the year. And that’s me putting it lightly. It’s usually a mine-field of floating garbage, cavernous pot-holes and sewage-infused flood water. In fact with Bombay’s road conditions, I deeply contemplated why we even needed to leave this city to ride these motorcycles off-road; the same conundrum I faced for last year’s Slush Fest. But waterborne pathogens and unending droves of stationary traffic tend to suck all the fun right out of it. So we chose to ride to cleaner pastures instead. Our pasture of choice was seemingly void of humans, so we could proceed with our annual ritual of rollicking around in the muck with a select group of singles and not be judged or interrupted. Before you get any crazy ideas, I meant single-cylinder motorcycles, not single humans. This is a respectful (not!) affair. Okay, I meant there weren’t any groupies or peace-pipes involved.

There were, however, the four motorcycles that are positioned as adventure tourers that have the right ingredients for India in my book. By that I mean they’ve got single-cylinder engines that are lighter than their multi-cylinder counterparts. They’re a more manageable size than the big ADV bikes. They’ve also got heaps of glorious torque that lug you out, quite clumsily, of deep slushy situations. And you won’t need to go back home on a stretcher because you’ve absolutely exhausted every fibre in your body. So what exactly does this menu look like?


For the first part of the torture test, we decided to do timed runs across a relatively open stretch of trail. But to keep the playing field level, there was also a lovely mossy, slushy u-turn around a rock. Varad did the first few runs and turned the starting line into a nice wet pit of muck. He also sneaked in a few extra runs when we weren’t looking. Needless to say, the remaining runs had us running amok like a bunch of squirming earthworms with no traction off the line. But he did manage to clock the quickest times on three of the bikes. Here’s how the bikes did:



So we decided to move further down the trail to see how these bikes handled wet rocks and gravel. The SWM simply obliterated them. Of course with its shorter gearing, you need to really wring its neck to get the most out of it. The Xpulse lagged behind on the inclines because of the lack of torque. The baby GS kept bottoming out everywhere, if it wasn’t stalling in the slower sections. But the Himalayan just breezed through ever so casually. The main stand kept hitting on bumpier terrain, but the taller gearing meant you just needed to leave it in third gear and it’d simply cruise through everything. And the lower seat height also meant it wasn’t that intimidating in the technical sections. As it turned out, when we were halfway up the trail, we learned that the section we were heading to was inaccessible because of landslides. So we made our way towards the lake instead.


Now the descent towards the lake was a pretty tricky one, especially since it was doused in rainwater, rocks and moss. Once we did get to the lake, though, it was almost filled to the brim because of the downpour from the previous few days. So what did we do? We decided to check the sea-worthiness of the bikes. As you can clearly see, much fun was had. But the SWM kept tipping over while it was parked thanks to its stupidly small side-stand footprint. It wasn’t really an issue because we were surrounded by soft muck. That was until the bikes were parked and posed for a picture in the lake. The SWM for some reason decided it couldn’t take our childish antics anymore. So it simply tipped over and tried to drown itself. After we retrieved it from the water, it was clear that water had crept into every crevice the bike had, ourselves included. But it was starting to get late, and we needed to get the bikes out of there. Remember that tricky descent we spoke of earlier? Well now we had to get up it.

As it turns out, the SWM needs a specialised spanner to remove the spark-plug, and then another one to remove the air-box. And the beauty of it all was that the SWM was given to us sans a tool-it. So we decided to let time do its own work. About thirty minutes later and we still didn’t have any luck starting it. Luckily there was a 4×4 with us. So we hooked the bike up to the car via a tow-rope and decided to at least get it up to the main trail before it started getting dark. I pulled the shortest straw thanks to me having the longest legs there and had to be the one that made sure the bike stayed upright while it was towed. A few scares, what seemed like an eternity, and seriously sore limbs later, we managed to get the bike up to the main trail without any incidents. The SWM stayed dead as a fossil, so Varad took over and we tried jump starting the bike a few times. That didn’t work either. So we chose to head towards civilisation anyway in the hopes that we get a mechanic that does have the tools we need. About halfway through, we cranked the bike over a few more times, et voila, resurrection! After spitting out what seemed to be a few barrels of water, the SWM was back on its feet again. Colour me impressed.
So as the day came to a close, we were soaked to the bone in water and grime. But we still had to make our way back to the city. As it turns out, we were all eyeing the keys of the Himalayan. But thanks to logistics and me staying the closest to the bikes drop off point, I got lucky and the keys were mine. The Himalayan really shines through when the going gets rough. And isn’t that what matters most in an adventure bike? Well in case you think I’m a little too smitten with it, I’ll just let you see what the others have to say.
The Small Guy

– AADIL NAIK
The Newbie

– RAUNAK AJINKYA
The Fast Guy

– VARAD MORE




















