Very-ee-naazzz-ee

Some shots of Varanasi while floating upon the Ganges at dawn. Pilgrims lined the shore washing their sins away, funeral pyres burned the recently deceased on their way to Moksha and the sun rose behind us and lit up the sky. Pretty cool.

This goat was also there to wash away his sins. Or just hang out.

20 hours later, Darjeeling!

Mysore & Ooty

with seth in tow, we departed early yesterday morning from bangalore on a long bus ride to the town of mysore. there is a whomping big palace there that they light up at night with about a million incandescent lights. nice to look at, and the street food leading up to the palace is to die for. seriously, readers: when in india (or any country for that matter) go street food. it's cheap, usually fried (read: safe to eat) and it's what the locals eat which means your getting a little culture, too. one more masala dosa or thali with white rice and i'm not going to be pleasant to be around.

we also, at eliot's behest, visited the rail muesem which was dull beyond words. there was a big saloon car that was pretty neat. if you've ever been to see THE THING in arizona, it's a lot like that. but no car hitler owned. or, you know, a MYSTERIOUS THING. a little fed up with crowds, pollution and honking horns, we headed for the evergreen-laden mountain resort of ooty ...

... only to find crowds pollution and honking horns. now granted, the accomodations here are excellent (YWCA for the win), the temperature is downright cool and there are tons of big trees around the lake; but there is still garbage everywhere, pushy hotel barkers and the otherwise lovely lake smells not-so-good. sometimes these indian towns can be a real bummer. there's nice stuff here to be sure, like the tiger reserve we drove through on the way here. we got to see wild peacocks, elephants and monkeys. but even there, the peope through their garbage everywhere. call me an ignorant white male, call me pretencious, hell call me that most begrudged world in the travel community - American - but listen to me: India has got a SERIOUS culture surrounding littering, garbage burning and polution in general that needs to be reigned in NOW. if this place is going to the most populous nation on earth (it will) and one of the most powerful (that too), it's got to do something about a billion peope who urinate and spit anywhere they please and chuck their garbage into rivers flowing through nature preserves. it's cultural, it's systemic and it's pandemic. there, i said my peace.

all of that having been said, each place has redeeming qualities. no, i'll say that another way: most places we've visited have had such an abundance of cool and kindness that it overshadows these other problems. i don't care how crappy Alibag ever gets, The Goddess and Kunal will always provide enough kindness and heart to overtake it (Alibag's actually really nice, just making a point here).  Bangalore has horrible traffic - so does Dallas. I have friends in both cities that make them worth putting up with. Wherever there are people, there will be garbage and waste. But there's also hope and family and food - and that makes it worth while. Failure to bend with the bad, means failure to thrive with the good.

moving on, we're going to get up in the hills around ooty tomorrow and hopefully do some serious hiking. being away from my bike for the last 5 days or so has me feeling restless. i started a workout regime just to fill the lack of energetic activity. i am getting lots of good pictures now that we're on foot. next time i hit the internet cafe, i'll bring the cable for my phone and load up the pics.

the two-to-three week culture shock thing has worn off which is nice. for those who have travelled for long periods of time before, you'll probably remember hearing the following timeline as standard traveller psychosis: weeks 1-2, absolute bliss and adventure; week 2.5-3 culture shock; week 3-4 adjustment; week 4+ engrained, calloused. 3 weeks to a month is a perfect time for a vacation. as of tomorrow, i've been out of the country exactly 1 month. starting to wear thin around the edges. things here are still amazing, and the feeling is to be expected. but i miss some creature comforts, food and friends. would i trade those things for the freedom and adventure of the rambling road? today, perhaps. yesterday, certainly. tomorrow? we'll see.

New Fotographias!

Eliot here, with a dump of neuvo photos for your waiting eyes. These range from the first few days in Mumbai down to just a few days before we bopped into Goa just days ago. As we reach closer and closer to the 2-week mark, reflecting back on things we've done and things we've seen, it feels like a year. I can barely remember Holi, much less arriving and feeling that first breath of fat, humid air smack me in the face. Stellar.

New buds in Alibag.

Injury: gnarly.

Lordy Lordy, it is hot here.

Some pieces missing from the rebuild.

Refreshment at the Gate of India

And these guys were loading their jugs with water for their boats and ships across the waterfront. Maybe a little more interesting than the Gate.

The most beautiful Royal Enfield either of us has ever seen. Yet.

Don't touch me, bro. Rickshaws! Like Vespa plus Tilt-a-Whirl! Awesome!


More photos to come soon! Uploading on local computers requires a measure of patience and enlightenment that our Indian visit has yet to instill in me, so in the meantime I'll just sip some chai. Namaste.

maharastra by bus

yesterday we awoke on the beach, packed up and made tracks to Srivrahndan.  after breakfast and water refill, we found out that we could on, in fact, take a ferry accross the creek to continue south but had to catch a mus to mahad and from there get a bus to Diapoli.

a quick note: the guide books don't mention Srivrahdan, but it is one of the cleanest, most organized and friendliest littles towns we're visited. eager help from the locals, great chai, cheap eats and a pristine hidden beach just 1 km from the roundabout at the big tree.  we got the impression that tourist very extremely rare.  we were treated with exceptional care, but the gem is the town itself: clean streest, wide ravines running infront of each well kept house.  idyllic.  if you happen to be in the area, check it out. the beach would be perfect for camping and i'm sure the locals would oblige.  highly recommended.

we bused to mahad and waited for two hours for the next bus which too us to Ratnigir in four hours.  we opted to use bus travel as both a day of rest from the four previous days of 6-9 hours biking, and a good way to cover difficult terrain quickly.  in all we made it 100km down the coast.

the nightbus was terrifying and exciting.  no lights, inside the bus or on the road it seemed. occasionally the headlights of an oncoming cargo truck, a snap swerve to avoid the collision, skirting a cliff gave and then back to total darkness. eliot and i opted to listen to music through earphones to keep ourselves distracted.

we got off the bus in Ratnigiri with no idea of where to stay or go.  in the dim mercury-lamp glow of the bus station parking lot we loaded up the bikes, stray dogs and znoozing beggars watching. we were hopeful - if our time here in india has taught us anything, it's that when you hit bottom, india will provide something for you.  you must have faith that thigns will be okay, and then they will be. so, with trepedation we put our feet to the pedals.  rats scattered. dogs and cows featsted together on waste and trash in the streets, as we headed into the Ratnigiri night.


... only to hear a familiar voice calling "Hello, my friends!" we looked over to find Daniel, our Alsacian friend from the previous morning standing before a hotel not 30 yards from the bus station, lazily pulling on a cigarette with two friends. he tells us that he's staying in the hotel there, very cheap and clean, convenient and safe.  we pull in, pay a scant 416Rs and head around the corner and up some stairs into a shady, blown out bar where we pick up a couple bottles of beer. back in Daniel's room, we sit on the balcony over looking the closed shops and the streets full of grabage and smelling of human and animal waste. we spend the rest of the evening there, talking politics, film and wine over kingfisher beer and beedies. the whole time we shake our heads and think "what are the odds?"

india is magic.

Holi Diver

after breakfast and coffe with kunal, we made tracks to marud. kunal gave us well wishes and two cocnuts each for 'today's ration" as he said. we were excited that holi celebrations would be going on. not 5km from kunal's a motorcycle pulle over and two guys jumped off.  with screams of "HAPPY HOLI" they smeared colored powder all over our faces. for the next several hours, our trip was an excrutiating climb of steep hills, wet lowlands, and about five more colorings.  after a while the stuff really stared to sting. and yesterday i read an article that said some of the colors can be toxic .hmmm. ....

we biked all day covered in the stuff. it was awful. every time we stop, crowds gather but this day a whole restuarant gather around us and took pictures and asked questions and forced us to participate in magic tricks. there was one guy who really liked card tricks. it was wierd.

then the really hard part started. up and down the western ghats the road was in poor shape with lots of hills. plenty of water on hand, but the coconuts and the food tins made extra weight. we were tired and struggling. and covered in toxic chemicals. i mentioned that, right?

we limped into marud at 1730. we were beaten, severyly tired, wet from sweat and sore throughout from an intense 50km ride we took a room at the Sea Beach resort (read - a room above this dude fizel's house). our third floor room overlooked the ocean. there were tons of palm trees, birds, bats and of course, janjira fort. we washed clothes, showered, rested and thentook a walk on the beach.  headed back to the room after chatting with some locals about where the ferry to the fort was.

very tired. sore and sleeping but fed, comfortable and safe. still, as the final prayer of the day wafts into the room from the nearby mosque over the sound of the hastily rotating fan, i wish we had another night at kunal's. alas, the road goes ever on and on ...

Mr. Kunal

there is no way to sum up everything that happened we met and stayed with mr.kunal. i think, for the sake of the blog, i'll try to sum things up quickly.  sadly, i cannot transmit to you everything that was said and felt during our evening with him and his beautiful family.  you'll just have to take my word when i say it marks a meeting with one of the finest souls i've met in this life.

(fyi, for visualization purposes, imagine ghandi and hemingway mixed together and you've pretty much got it)

so there we are, tired and hungry with only a dim hope that up ahead lies someplace, anyplace, where we can rest.  we pull into a 'holiday house" to ask for directions.  a deaf man waves at us and smiles, then motions to the big house. a smiling man in a blue shirt and simple sandals emerges and approaches us, smiling and waving.

we give him the standard speech. "hi, we're gringos. we're traveling india on bikes and we're looking for (insert poorly pronouced destination here)." we expect broken english and a vague sense of where the next town is. instead we get -

"kim beach is very close. but you may camp here on my land if you wish. here, here or over there - wherever. there are guest houses there you may use if you don't wish to camp. here is a double room. come inside. here is hot water. is this bathroom okay? the water is all filtered. i know how you westerners are about clean water. here is hot water for a bath. take one, it will work out all the knots. sit here, i'll get some tea."

we were stunned. he never insisted we stay, he only made sure we knew we were welcome too. "may we pay you for the room?" i asked. "why? just stay here, there is not trouble."

honestly, i was on the verge of tears.  bleary eyed, i wiped my face and sat down to tea and biscuits. we had tea while the sun set in kunal's backyard. he left us alone saying he had a few things to do. when we were settled, we worked on the bikes for a while and both took a long indian style bath - basically pouring water over yourself from a small bucket. it's wondefully refreshing, a good exercise (as mr. kunal later pointed out) and oddly luxurious. we adjusted the brake pads and trued all the wheels before deciding that we should go thank our hosts again.

we were welcomed into the main house with smiles and were given the full tour. kunal spent years working as a wireless operator for different oil companies and ammased enough money to buy a little land, build a house and plant many trees to eat off of.  his prayer room was beautifully tucked away and very cleanly swept. the kitchen was well used and smelt like fresh food. the whole place was spacious, comfortable and lived-in. we were seath and kunal and his lovely wife gave us rum and pepsi.  we drank two rounds with kunal and talked about so much ... amnog the two hours or more throughout which there was never a dull or uninspiring moment, a few bright points stick out -

"europeans think too highly of themselves. you have to buy yours bread over here, not there. you are over there, i am over here. you are low. i am high. in France you must always be less than the french. france is a terrible place."

"churches can be very good but you must be careful - they like to build buildings and wear white robes, clean robes only. sometimes they are really good people but often they want some money or they say "you better think like me!""

"being on the bottom, being poor, is a very good thing. way up high on the mountain are the officials, the rulers and the priests and things.  but from the bottom of the mountain you can see straight up their robes. so you know their asses are as dirty as yours."

"the world is a round place - what happens here, goes around to there."

"if you have stream that's flowing in one direction and you want to change it, you cannot cut it off, or just block it.  it will explode and run over. you have to turn it very slowlyvery gradually and then it will go right where you want wihout any problems. this is how indians deal with things. when we kicked the british out, there were anglo-indians left who only wanted to associate with each other. so we said - okay. and we pushed them out a little. next generation, we push them out a little further. now, there are none."

"in america, decades ago, it didn't matter what you did, only how much money you made. we make the same? we're on par. it doesn't matter if he is a drug dealer or pimp or anything - money made you equal.  now i think things are different. but here, we don't just move out the dealer. if you make it, maybe you sell it, or you use it. just like the stream - little bit at a time, we push them all over there.  we kick them out. if you do any part of it, we move you over there, we move you out - slowly."

"there is no other woman than my wife for me, romantically. there are other women, i know. but sex or something - doesnt cross my mind. a son grows up and he says "this is my mom. this is my new mom. this is my new dad." and he grows up with that and he sleeps with whoever. i think you guys, your generation is better, but many americans and europeans grow up and they don't klnow what marraige is. i love my wife, she is my the only one."

"it's like benches or signs that say "no blacks or dogs allowed." a kid, maybe 6 or 8 he doesn't know, doesn't care. his best friend is black. but he sees that sign and his friend sees that sign.  then about 10 or 11 he says, what is black? he is black, i am not black, like this. there are many examples. we shouldn't teach our children these things. but it's very important to know - something changes in the mind at ten or eleven. we stop just being us, our mind opens uand we start thinking and seeing other people differently. we should be careful what we teach children."

Mumbai, mi amor part II

After the helpful advice from the Indian call center we stumbled into we found our way to the India tourism office and a man who gave Shilpa a run for her money in terms of helpfulness - Rakesh.

Not only did he patiently wait for an hour, himouring our every request, but he gave us loads of maps and recommended hotels for our entire journey! Lots of advice on how to deal with folks, where to camp and how people will just take care of us.

Went to the grocer, saw the Gate, chatted with some merchants and shared our snacks (they looooove foreigners who love their food. apparently most don't? Schloobs.), ate again, got pan with a doctor of chemical engineering (more on this later!) and caught the train back at peak time - the pictures don't do this fact justice but think cattle car (or dokow train. Too soon?).
















Pan Walla - more on this later.


A fine "Givson" guitar for sale.

Mumbai, mi amor

Well here we are. India. Two or more years ago Eliot and I started talkin about a trip and, through an intense year of planning and talking (especially the last four months) we're here where we said we were going. That alone is further than a lot of plans make it and I want to take the opportunity to pat myself and Eliot on our respective backs. So patted, let's talk about today.


Our tiny hotel room is where the tale begins. After two sink showers (the shower head is abysmmal nevermind that there is no shower area, just a head in the middle of the wall), we caught a rickshaw out to the train station. There is so much to say that I don't know how to sum it up ... I
Imagine a managerie on the move. There are elephants ( buses), maybe some rhinos (trucks), oxen (vans), tigers (taxis, cars), gazelles perhaps (rickshaws), rabbits (motorcycles), and squirrels (bicycles). There are also horses (horses) and cows (cows) but nevermind those fir the moment. So this big managerie just cruises down the road with no rules, no lanes (animals, remember?) just lumbering along. Big things go I. Big places, small things go in small places. If you see a gap and cut in front of everyone just to nearly collide head first into someone else, almost crush a few pedestrians by going up on a curb and just manage to slip into a space, well that's par for the course. I AM NOT EXAGERATING. we passed within inches of buses and taxis more than once. And not like "I could have reached out and touch the car" close. like "had my knee been barely poking out of the rickshaw I wouldn't have a leg" close.












On to the train station where we confidently purchased our tickets and were on our way ... In the complete opposite direction from our destination we soon found out. After much asking around and looking like total gringos we met the goddess of helpfulness, grace, patience and gringo-tolerance: Shilpa. This young Indian maid not only helped us buy tickets, she boarded the train with us and rode a few stops to make sure we were going the right way. Her reply to our over zealous thank you's? With a big smile: "it's in my nature ... I have no choice." genuinely beautiful.








Bless you, Shilpa.



Once we disembarked, we cruised around downtown Mumbai looking for the Indian tourism bureau that our hotel had recommended. We grabbed some food and went from one shop to the next trying to find this place. Eventuallyvwe ended up in travel call center and they put us right on track. As in America, when you need help with something it seems that eventually you'll end up talking to an Indian call center.

Location:Sheikh Zayed Rd,Dubai,United Arab Emirates

We're here.

We left Dubai about 13:45 and arrived in Mumbai 19:00 local. I don't know where to start. And I'm not just saying that as a popular turn of phrase.

30+ near traffic collisions, bungies holding the trunk door of our "taxi" buckling, a slew of child beggars all forcing their hands in the windows towards Eliot, Mosquitos the size of quarters all potentially carrying dengue or malaria or some such thing, nearly running over dozens - literally dozens - of women and children, pulling into a back alley and frantically moving our bikes and bags into a barely marked aluminum door reading Anjali Inn, complete with a strange hissing and clicking noise inside (?) the room ...

... and all this IN TEN MINUTES.

What about Bob?

I (eliot) had the great pleasure to speak with an expert on India a couple days ago, Bob Patel. Bob and his wife Kusum have lived on Bastrop, TX for some time after moving from India to the US years ago. They owned a series of hotels in Bastrop over the years, and my grandparents Cecil and Chrysta Moore participate in the Moore family reunion in Bastrop every year. Long story short, my Grandfolks and the Patels got in touch when the need for a hotel for the reunion arose. Years later, the Patels host members of our family every year in their hotels.

SO: At the behest of my Grandmother (and with some help), I rang up Mr. Patel and we met up. Among other things, we discussed trip logistics, places to see and stay, and most importantly, the various types of mangoes to eat and how to eat them. India has WAY more mangoes than America, something close to 190 different varieties. Some mangoes have more fiber inside of them, and instead of peeling and pitting them, you can just make an incision along the top of the mango and squeeze the juicy goodness out the top. Holy moly roly poly, I am ready.

Mr. Patel is from the north western state of Gujarat. He suggested that if we go anywhere near the Pakistani border, I should shave my bodacious facial hair, as I may be mistaken for a Muslim and have to deal with, well, whatever may happen. I think I would have trouble relating my religious affiliation with the 24 Hour Church of Elvis to any curious Indians.

The talk was great - I came away with a batch of notes and knowledge and Mr. Patel came away knowing he helped a couple of clueless schmucks be less so. Thanks very much, Mr. Patel, and my Grandfolks look forward to seeing you and Kusum come the Moore family reunion!

In other news - I am getting over a totally mild cold. Actually hoping it was going to happen now and not right before we left for DubaIndia.

Also: 8 DAYS!!! AAAACCCKKkkkkk..coughcoughcough, huffkkugh.....Woo! 8 Days!

spicy safari, episode 4

EPISODE 4 - Knife-Faced Cats

OR

Another way to die in India

WARNING - LOTS OF AWESOME TIGER VIDEOS! 

And so we come to the national animal of India - the Bengal Royal Tiger. The bengal is probably the tiger you've seen if you've been to the zoo - not as big as the siberian tiger, but the most numerous. and even though there's only about 2100 of the guys in the world, somewhere between 1300-1500 live in India.  Tigers are amazingly powerful, have enormous claws and eat up to 60lbs of meat in a single meal. Also they are purely carnivorous! We're Doomed! AGAIN! 

no but seriously, tigers are fiercely territorial and stay spread out.  like every other animal on this list, rapid encroachment has forced tigers out of their typically habitat meaning tigers and humans sometimes bump shoulders.  even though they'd much prefer to be left alone,  they don't like eating humans (they'd much rather eat their cattle - and even that it's anywhere near their top choice).  when pressed and hungry, tigers have been known to eat old, sick and wounded humans (check, check and check - we should be fine). such a tiger is called a MANEATER and will continue to eat humans. tigers have also been known to eat wolves, jackals (not, unfortunately "jackyls"), bears (<-- great music on that one) and even crocodiles as food and even though it's rare, they've been observed taking down rhinos and even elephants. 

STELLAAAAAAAA!

whenever you get scared about a tiger, bear, shark or any other animal munching down on you just remember that to them you look and smell like a giant hairless monkey - nowhere near what they usually eat. moreover, the soap and fragrances we wear make us smell like a bunch of nuclear flowers.  they are much more interested in our urine (which smells like an animal and more to the point contains salt - mmmm) and, if you eat meat, your food. raw meats, jerky, and smoked fish smell awesome to animals. thankfully, me and eliot are both veggies and super flatulent to boot. that's nature's tiger repellent. 

Faster, Tiger, KILL KILL

on to much more interesting tiger facts: tigers live on their own, and are expected to create and maintain their own territory from the time they are 18 months old on. their fathers will leave as soon as they are born, so they're raised entirely by their mothers. they basically spend their lives cruising around and munching down on small and medium-sized game and staying out of areas that other tigers have sprayed. tigers can tell male from female sprays, and should a male wander into a female's territory (or vis versa) they will typically get it on.  the exception is if the female is already preggo. then the male tiger's like "i don't need no drama" and he gets a jäger and peaces.

above all, the largest enemy to tigers is humans. ugh ... once again messing up what is inherently awesome in the universe.  get this: the number one killer of tigers? CRACK-POT MEDICINE. in addition to the famous tiger-wang powder that is supposed to make a dude rip-snorted sexual tyrannosaurus (i tried - it doesn't), their teeth, organs and pelts are prized for magical purposes. you can find a really disgusting list of things here if you're into that kind of thing.  

look, i love (LOVE) black magic, supernatural powers and mysticism more than just about anything. but one thing i DO love more than all those things is kittens. and tigers are basically big kittens. with knives in their faces. so please, please: stop killing the giant kitties, won't you?  

taking their penises isn't going to make you feel any better about your penis. 

please. stop stealing tiger wang. 

spicy safari, episode 3

EPISODE 3 - Flying Foxes

OR

Night of the Guavampire! 

The greater short-nosed fruit bat goes by many names - Indian Fruit Bat, Old World Fruit Bat, Megabat and (my favorite) the Flying Fox.  It's the bane of the sky, raining down terror and mayhem and all those that would stand in it's path, ruthless in it's quest to sink it's sharp, slobbering fangs into their ... guava. Or bananas, they like those, too. There is a lesser (or minor) short-nosed fruit bat but who wants to hear about that?

o hai.

So who is this flying rodent-thing and what's his deal? Well, to begin with, the Indian Fruit Bat is just one of some 123 species of bat living in Asia, with most of those in India.  These bats make up one-fourth of the mammalian population of India and account for one tenth of the total bat population in the world. That's alot of guano, people! 

As with many other species, the indigenous people of india (especially farmers) are none too keen on the fruit bat since they (duh) eat alot of fruit. they are also carriers of japanese encephalitis, they make a lot of noise and they remind people of THE WAMPYR!  but environmentalist say their natural habitat is being encroached upon by the (cough) 1 BILLION PEOPLE living in India. In case you haven't noticed, this is kind of the story of animal life on earth.   okay, a warning: 

THE NEXT PART OF THIS POST IS RATED "M" FOR MATURE - THERE IS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT UP AHEAD. IF YOU ARE A TOTAL PRUDE, DON'T READ PAST THIS SWEET BAT PICTURE:

you kept reading? oooooooooooo! 

An interesting note on Fruit Bat mating behavior: they are the only non-primate species known on earth to perform fallatio during intercourse. the female bat goes down on the male bat to "prolong copulation" and "insure insemination" - which is funny because it pretty much works the opposite way in humans (ZING!). what's more, the she performs this favor to the dude-bat WHILE he's got his um ... you know, batarang?  in her ... uh ... oh boy, this is akward. watch this video, it explains everything. 

sorry, mom. 

spicy safari, episode 2

EPISODE 2 - Ears for Years

OR

the Grey Leg-Faced Man

There are two kinds of elephants in the world - the large, gas-guzzling, high-octane African variety and the sporty, efficient left-wing endorsed Asian type. Four exciting models of Asian elephant are available, but the one we want to focus on today is the Indian Elephant for obvious reasons. we're going to India, remember? It's why you come to this blog? Ugh ...

... ANYWAY: Indian elephants, like other Asian elephants, have smaller ears than their african brethren.  And while only 9% of sri lankan elephant males have tusks, a whopping 90% of indian elephant males can gore their opponents with their giant teeth. Yep, you heard right! Like walruses, elephant tusks are actually over-sized incisors.  You've probably heard that the tusks never stop growing: you heard right! Additionally they have a few large molars that they grind back and forth to much their grub. 

warning - PG-13! 

Indians have been domesticating the elephant for work, transportation and war for thousands of years. Mahouts are legendary elephant trainers who will raise a calf until he or she is ready to be an awesome partner in life-adventures. the Mahout and his elephant companion are common characters in indian folklore and a popular attraction in contemporary communities.  likewise, many temples keep an elephant around, typically painted up and given special treatment. one hindu myth says that the gods stirred up the oceans looking for a potion that would make them immortal (remember, Gods die too in Hiduism!) and instead nine precious jewels surfaced. one of these was the elephant.  in accordance with this myth, elephants are revered as sacred, holy animals - sometimes even prayed to. 

sweet tats, bro

Worried about getting trampled? Don't. The way humans kill elephants, you're more likely to witness an elephant poaching than be squished by one. The WWF (not the WWF) says that Elephant populations (particularly in asia) are dwindling but recent conservation efforts have seen them rise to the status of "dwindling but not endangered." 

personally, i think we should ditch the bikes in india and hook up with some mahouts. DREW & ELIOT'S HEAVY METAL ELEPHANT WORLD TOUR - COMING 2011!!