Not an experience I’ll forget anytime soon. It was totally one to savour for some time! The first hurdles were locating a place that’d lend hogs at a decent rate – and also be close enough to my hotel. It took a bit of time, but I finally got there – after half a dozen phone calls!

The eve of the day (weekend) of reckoning, comes news that weather’s gonna be not so good – and 80% chances of rain. Ah great! Rain. Just the thing I was hoping for. But, there was this tiny voice that said “wait a minute, your last ride which was highly enjoyable was partly in the wet too…”. But a 140 kilo 180cc animal is slightly different from a 250+kilo Hog with 6 times engine capakitty, innit?

Well, Saturday morning opened to a nice surprise – it was sunny!! for the first time in a week nearly! And the change in weather signaled a good ride – in nice sunny weather.
So out I went to get the hog – got all the paperwork done, which, by now, it was kinda familiar to me.

Well, it was only till getting onto the bike that it was familiar territory. From then on, it was unexplored and very, very sensory. They don’t say “you know its a Harley when you hear it” for no reason! (more cliches found true, but we’ll come to that l8r) And I discovered the pleasure of hearing the hot-rod throbbing when I fired it up. Now THAT sounded sweet!  As were the vibes from the bike – I’d gone there expecting a bike that threatened to throw me off at first start-up, but the vibes were muted, pleasant -and gave the right amount of feel. Perfect!

The first ten miles back to the hotel, were SWEET. I had a mile wide grin plastered over my face for the whole journey. My cheeks didn’t hurt even after having that grin plastered over my face for ten miles. The initial turn-in seemed a bit laborious, from the Pulsar’s sporty stance – which’s what I was used to. After the first couple of turns trying to figure if I was on the right street, the rest of the time was spent, cruising, being stared at. (Helped that I’d dressed as a propah “biker” – leather n denims). Cruising on the hog with a full lane for me, hogging the attention of folks around me, in cages – was sweet. The cool Pacific Ocean draft set it out to be the perfect ride. (That the draft might be a bit too cool, I found out later).

Lunch dispensed with, maps printed from G-maps, and all-set to go, only to see the sky opening up. Rain. A short nap was beckoning when I discovered that the rain had stopped.  For good. Hoo-hah! Time to hit the California-1.

But now it was time for a bit of reality check. The first was the IRON of the clutch. Eooww! If someone wants to build up(?)/exercise their palm muscles, nothing better than the Harley’s clutch. It’s not so apparent when in normal traffic, but a 3-car pile-up meant I was forced to use the clutch a lot, and as a result my left palm took a good beating. Round 1 to the Sportster, for reminding me to have got some gloves along as well. Should try it Bangalore’s traffic. Palms and fingers sure to toughen up, and we can just junk the protective gloves after that, maybe.

But, the pile-up was soon dispensed with, and I was now onto CA-1, or the Pacific Coast Highway. One of the best roads I have been on, till now – ocean and beach on one side, tiny hamlets on either and the mountains opposite the ocean. Add in the ocean draft and it was perfect weather for cruising. Or so I thought.

Trouble was, I didn’t have gloves. And at a steady 50mph, that ocean draft bites in a while(and it was 8 deg C). But a Pizza/coffee /directions stop kinda took a bit of the sting away, and we’re on the road again – trying to find my way to the temple located amongst the hills in Malibu – which I’d heard about from my pals of being located in an awesome location.

Turned out that the temple amongst the hills, or, the Malibu Venkateshwara temple, if you so prefer, was just a couple of turns from the PCH. Ah nice, that meant not so long a ride – and an easy ride. Or so, I thought. Trouble was, one turn was into the hill country, the second one put me bang on the hills, with a signboard reading, in a rather friendly manner, “Landslide zone, next 4.6 miles”. 4.6 miles? Ah, not so bad. I’d get off the road in that time. Time to check the map again. “4.6 miles on that road, before the turn to the temple”. Yeah, so much for calculations. The first few corners were spent trying to avoid my fear of heights, and thinking of the rock that might send me and a 250kilo hog plummeting down. After those initial fears seemed a bit too much, out came a small tunnel to set things in sweet motion again – Nice! The roar of the bike on the tunnel was good. My hands were somewhere between being numb and totally numb, but trying to pull the levers made of IRON helped in bringing them back to life, in bits.

And finally, there it was, nestled in the hills, amongst the best locations for a temple that I’ve ever seen. The most delightful part of it, of course, nestled inside. And that was the tap with hot water streaming out of it. With fingers back in motion, and paying my respects to the deity there, I headed back home, er, to my hotel. The ride back was mostly eventless, and an actual cruise with just one break to see a panoramic view of the coastline all through Malibu up until Santa Monica(or so I guessed). The only sad part was that I didn’t have enough time to snap it – a slight drizzle and a cloudy sky meant I didn’t want to tempt the gods into dousing me with water.

The Sportster’s lights were just about okay. If I had one, I’d complain about it as much as I’d complain about my 180′s lights, or maybe slightly lesser.

Fuel consumed: 1.8 gallons

Rental paid : 106$

The Experience : Priceless.