I know, I know, I've been in country for more than a week and today was my first day of real riding in India. Getting out of Dehli was an ordeal. I had systems problems from the very start. First, the hotel card reader wouldn't recognize my Mastercard so I had to hunt up an ATM. That didn't work either so I dug into my emergency funds to pay the bill.
Then, the GPS on my smart phone went wacky and sent me down a couple of sketchy streets. I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to go, so I ignored the phone and went with my gut. An hour later I found myself in a dead-end alley in the middle of a wild dog fight.
Yeah, it was pretty cool.
Luckily, the phone got itself squared away and in 20 minutes I was pedaling along north of the outskirts of Dehli on my way to Nepal.
I rode all day on Highway AH2, which is a freeway with a big lane for scooters, bicycles, horse and cow-drawn wagons, Tik Tiks; basically all the slow-moving traffic you see everywhere in India. For the first couple of hours it was bumper-to-bumper. Sometimes I could wiggle through but most of the time I crawled along with everyone else.
I haven't eaten much the last couple of days, though I've been pooping a lot. Strange. This Indian street food doesn't always agree with my stomach and associated organs. I have one meal and I'm good for 72 hours. Anyway, I'd been feeling kind of sick, and I didn't get much sleep last night what with all the pooping, so I was queasy all day. I tried to eat once but I could only force down a bite or two.
It was hot, and along about 2:30, I was riding down a slight incline when I started getting dizzy. I felt like I needed to vomit, then, my right leg cramped up. I was in a place where I couldn't pull over and I was crying out with pain every time I made a pedal stroke. Man, it hurt like hell! Then, my other leg cramped up too. I was howling like a coyote.
I pulled into one of the little ubiquitous roadside restaurants and bought a cold Coke and guzzled it down in about 3 seconds. Then, I got a bottle of cold water and poured it over my head. That mad me really dizzy and I plopped down in a chair in the shade. I was so exhausted, sick, and demoralized that I could hardly move. But I had to poop, so I hobbled around back to the squat toilet.
The guys hanging around the place took pity on me, I guess, because when I came back, they led me over to the hand pump, held my head under the pipe, and doused me with water for about 10 minutes. It might have been some kind of ritual or frat initiation, I don't know, but it sure felt good.
Ten minutes later I rolled into the town of Hapur and booked a room. It's okay, there's no WIFI or TV, but it's clean and I feel safe. Okay, that's all for now.
I gotta go poop.