A broken leg, a broken plan — but not a broken will. After the accident, I was left waiting and watching the days slip by, holding back the urge to ride and replaying old journeys in my mind. The silence of recovery felt longer than any highway I had ever crossed. But when the day finally came, I rolled out once again, carrying both pain and passion, to complete the journey I had once started.

From riding through Chittorgarh’s old walls to watching the Chambal flow under the hanging bridge, the journey became more than just a route on the map. Even with tired legs and a distracted heart, I followed the trail to Mukundra Hills — where the roads ended, the wild began, and the views reminded me why I ride. This book is not about the perfect trip. It’s about the imperfect moments that made it unforgettable.