Well, the trip TO Kerala was better than the return one, but that ain't as poetic to describe as the FRO trip. The 1st trip was much more enthusiastic, what with redline shifts, quickshifts, powershifts, mis-shifts, half-lock, opposite lock, and what have you. The ghat sections were an absolute blast, with one being required to only hold on to just a single gear-2nd. The slight disadvantage, despite the immensely capable, stiff chassis and the strong, vital feedback from the sporty steering, is the suspension. It tends to chop through corners. I shudder at the thought of 15 or 16 inchers and low profile runners through these rally-like conditions. The suspension pliancy is lesser than the Lancers, but more than the Citys. The Mitsus are far more forgiving. On the Swift, catch a bump on the inner wheel through a corner, and wham-oversteer. Outer wheel, and voila-understeer. But that's Mcpherson Strut for you. No suspension travel is possible without change in either camber angles or toe. Bah, off with the technical brouahaha. Here's a nouvel novel summarizing my return journey.
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Okay then. I reached back home by about 11:30 P.M, on the 25th of June (And I've been elsewhere till now; hence the late post) . Boy, what an experience. The return journey was sorta a downer at the start, mainly 'cause I was bidding goodbyes to my folks-and my place. But once on the road, my car cheered me up. I started from Kerala on Saturday morning, at about 9:30 A.M. After saying all goodbyes with a heavy heart, I cranked her up, shifted, and off I went. The first 20 Kms went by like your average entrance exam. Tense, emotional, your stomach squirming in strange ways, blah, blah....when's it gonna end, for christ's sake?
Somehow the car seemed to understand me. For those 20-odd Kms, she was quiet.Then, as if to perk me up, the shifts got quicker, the throttle responses dialled in faster, and the engine rorted through the tailpipe. Ah. I smiled.
I tanked her up at Trichur, at a BPCL pump. Having tried IOC, IBP, and HP through the route, I discovered that BPCL is truly better. No, really. Just read on. So, I reached Mahe, a Union Territory, (Pondicherry), by afternoon, about 3:00-3:30. I think. It was raining heavily, and hence the drive upto Mahe was pretty entertaining, to say the least. Driving at 70 kmph or lesser when you can't seem to distuinguish the roads from the Arabian sea is not your daily cup of tea. Take the lows and highs in the stride son, thundered mother nature. But then, mother nature doesn't lust after 71 'cudas or go bananas at the mere thought of powersliding a R34 V-spec. Gnashing my teeth, I sleepwalked till Mahe, by what seemed like an eternity.
Mahe could be the right place to cheer up fellows like me (and perhaps many fellow bhpians too- liquor costs as much as a litre of milk; Luckily, I'm a teetotaller). Gasoline costs 45 bucks there. Yippee. There's still hope in this world. I had made it a point to tank up at Mahe, but due to some screwed up calculations, my tankups went wrong. Anyways, making a mental note, I told the attendant at the "BPCL Pure For Sure" pump to tank her up. After some time, the drenched li'l fellow came up to me with the bill. I scratched my head, bewildered. There must be some mistake. My baby's belly had gulped just 10.2 litres. I check the fuel inlet pipe. There's gas right upto the filler cap's neck. I check the trip. It shows 203.2 kms. I'm dumbstruck. The car's given me 20 kmpl. Well, almost. My theories about Cold Air Induction, Aquaplaning, Traction on wet roads, Cd, Wheelspin, A/F ratio, blah, blah...all seemed to come to me. Great. And yeah, did I mention that the A/C was on throughout the trip?
Suddenly, realisation dawns on me that being light-footed helps save mother nature. I vow to try to achieve propostrous F.E. figures, if only to piss off Overdrive staffers. Then, my boss calls. "Hello son, how's the weather?" ; "Peachy, Dad" I replied. "Since when did you start liking the monsoons?" he retorted. "Well, since I learnt the economic benefits", I replied. "Alrighty then. Loosen up the purse, and halt tonight. No questions." he said. "Vokay, saar" I replied hesitatingly, my voice shaking. Gaah, half the fun's gone now, I thought.
I halted at Ankola, a place at arm's length from Karwar. That's about 20 Kms away. I slept like kumbhkarna on vacation. Knowing that the next day was a sunday didn't do wonders to my schedule. I woke up like a Matador diesel engine on a winter morning. After freshening up, I left by about 10:00 A.M. The Kannada highways, that seemed so good while going to Kerala, looked like the martians had played pogo on it. Bah, what a day. Inching through, I meet the footsoldiers of Yama, the KSRTC bus drivers. They ploughed through what would make the Land Rover squirm in it's toes. And they took many tiny guys like us off the road too. Three cheers for them. Now I know where all the retired or frustrated rally drivers go to blow off some steam; or for a temporary job-just for the sake of it.
Funny thing, being a nut like me. I reached the expressway by the evening, around 4:00, and voila-there was a Porsche Cayenne waiting to cheer me up. My grin could've been measured through the Nile. I tried to keep up with the Porsche, pumping my baby around at about 80% throttle, at 100 MPH. I was right behind this guy, for some time. He went left, I went left. Right- Right I go, then. I matched him move for move, knowing inside that this guy is probably cruising leisurely at 30% throttle, talking on his cellphone, the car doing the driving for him. He wasn't pushing the machine at all. It was all evident from the absolute body control and immense poise from the beatiful senor`. Achtung, baby..
I reached the end of the expressway, hoping to make it in time for supper. God never fails to amaze you. Right at the end, I'm greeted by a traffic jam. As I inch along, I somehow went alongside the Cayenne. The Porsche driver actually rolled his window down,and looked back at me and my car. Wow. I smiled at him through the windshield. He seemed to smile back, and up went the tinted glass. Yay. A Porsche guy looked at a Swift. 1 Cayenne=10 Swifts. Moneywise. Still. The "Cayenne Chase", as it seemed, was the catch for the day. Or the highlight of the day. Or something.
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Pros and Cons of My baby;
Pros;
1) Chassis.
2) Handling.
3) Styling.
4) Shifter feel.
5) Equipment.
Cons;
1) The damn rattles. Perhpaps they can be fixed.
2) Lack of power.
3) Clutch is beginning to get moody.
4) Would it have killed Maruti to have made the seats a li'l more comfier?
5) Build quality.
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'Nuff said. Now for the pics......
The only pic that I stopped for, En route'...
Some other boring sceneries that I managed to click...
And some AFTER REACHING Kerala.....
My Dad's folks' humble home in Kerala....
The place where I halted. It ain't no Meridien, but at 200 bucks a night with attached bath, who really gives a buick's arse..?
Ahem....Porsches, anyone...?
Errr...this's what you call "Natural Graphics". My baby after thundering through 3300 kms. Alexander must have looked like this after conquering Rome...
These 2 horrific pics are the only ones that I'm uploading with a heavy heart...both are accidents that I happened to witness....
This one in Kerala..
And this one on the expressway..A bus ablaze; I could feel the heat from 20 feet across, with the glass rolled up, inside my cabin...
(I've given up on imageshack. After the umpteenth time, I'm uploading these on Photobucket. Mods, if you can, could you relocate these last two to imageshack? Thanks.)
Now, before Rudraji shoots me for not taking a tripod, or getting all the shutter speeds and exposures wrong, I should apologise- ALL the pics were taken by my humble phone-cam. Courtesy the N70.
@v1p3r; True, NH's ARE paid for by the central govt. My mistake. I wasn't going in technically on that post.....
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Guys, thanks for all the support. I really appreciate all the kudos. After all, who doesn't like pats from his family.....and yeah, sorry for the ultra-lamba kahaani. Kya karun, jab bheja emosanal hota hai to dil kaam nahin karta....