THE DESCENT IS SLICK WITH GREEN MOSS AND TUNNELLED BY UNCOMPROMISING, STIFF BAMBOO, AND BEGS FOR STICKIER TYRES AND A NARROWER BAR
We saw a tiger up here once,” says our guide, Mike McLean, as if recounting a trip to the corner shop. I peer anxiously at the screen of impenetrable bamboo that shrouds our trail and realise that anything – a cow, a tiger, even a unicorn – could be hungrily fixing me in its gaze and I’d never know. Until now, my concern has been how to carry our bikes on a tiny, 141-year-old Indian railway, but now the tigers have superseded that. Thanks for changing the mood, Mike.
Doing the locomotion
Resigning myself to fate is usually the norm on my adventures, so I launch into the arching undergrowth. The descent is slick with green moss and tunnelled by uncompromising, stiff bamboo, and begs for stickier tyres and a narrower bar. Any ideas I had of finding effortless flow are abandoned to the
