As some of you might know, I traded in my car for a scooter about 3 years ago. So I wouldn’t call myself an expert scooter driver, if there is such a thing, but I can handle myself pretty well on the streets of Orlando and Winter Park, FL. I know the back roads, the more quiet streets and am always aware that cars, trucks and SUVs probably don’t see me. At home, two wheeled vehicles are the minority on the roads and most other drivers are completely unaware of the traffic outside their automobile. I’m used to it.

So, this being my 3rd trip to India, I decided long before I left the States that I was going to rent a scooter when I arrived in Mysore. I contacted a man via Facebook and reserved it for the day I arrived. There were many reasons for this decision, even though most of the places I needed to go are within walking distance.

The first reason I wanted to rent a scooter was because I did not want to walk to the shala in the dark. Often class begins at 4:30am and there have been reports of a man stalking women walking alone at this time. Although the shala is only about 3 blocks from my apartment here, I choose to drive. But no one has has reported any sightings of him as of late since my good friend Shanna attacked him with pepper spray a few weeks ago. Nonetheless, I was not going to take chances this trip.

Second of all, the price of gasoline has gone up drastically for the people of India since the government no longer subsidizes it. Although it only costs me about 300 Rupees approximately $6.00 US to fill up my scooter here in Mysore, the cost at home is only half that much. So you can imagine that their price for gasoline is nearly double what Americans pay. Thus the rickshaw drivers are demanding more for rides around town and have gotten downright nasty about it. They quote you one price when you get in and state another when you get out, sometimes shouting for more money and denying the original price. So having a scooter to get about, one can avoid these types of situations most of the time.

Third, it’s cool. A chick on a scooter is just downright awesome. Speeding by the other yogis who are walking about town, honking the horn at intersections, and well pretty much everything, and when telling someone I’m going to be there in a minute, I mean it. It only takes a minute to zip around Gokulam, the neighborhood where the yogis live and the shala is located. A minute to the grocery store, a minute to the pharmacy, a minute to the temple and minute to meet you for breakfast. That’s it. Awesome!

But when it comes to taking the 7-10 minute drive into the city of Mysore proper, all hell breaks loose. As you can imagine, almost everyone drives a scooter or motorcycle and if not, the road is congested with rickshaws. There are also buses, trucks and the occasional car. Oh, and did I mention they drive on the left side of the road? It was a bizarre adaptation I had to make, not to mention the cows, goats and pigs who sometimes decide to stand in the middle of the road.

Anyway, to get back to the part about heading into the city. It was something that I had to do. I was determined to do it, but in all honesty, did not want to go it alone. And I knew that if I didn’t do it within the first week of arriving in Mysore, I would procrastinate and never actually do it.

So I recruited my friend Lisa into going to the market downtown with me. I told her I’d pick her up. She agreed, to my surprise, and off we went. Now I had a general idea of where the market was, but I wasn’t exactly sure. I could get us to the center of the city with certainty, but getting around was a different story. So I did. I got us to the center of the city, but could not find the market.

Afraid to stop or make any type of right turn whatsoever, we/I proceeded to get “lost” showing her the sights. Passing by the newly renovated mosque across from the old Catholic cathedral, then deep into the Muslim neighborhood, past the palace, back through the Muslim neighborhood, and around and around we went, not stopping, not making a right turn ever. For any type of a right turn was a death trap for sure. We asked for directions and they just told us to go straight. Needless to say, we never found the market.

But Lisa was a trooper. She never once complained or screamed, “OH SH*T” or “WATCH OUT!” or “OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO DIE!” Not once! She even helped me signal so that we could make our only right hand turn of the trip, a U-Turn to head back to Gokulam.

As we made the last left turn onto to Lisa’s street, I felt a sense of accomplishment I have not felt in a long time. I may not have been successful in finding the market, but I was successful in traffic in Mysore City, on a scooter, with a passenger. It was a proud moment and suddenly I began to realize how much tension I felt in my shoulders. I must have been white knuckled the entire drive, but it was exhilarating.

That night, I did it again. Traveling to a nearby hotel for dinner with some friends, at night. This time Anne was my passenger, a veteran motorcyclist and a very supportive co-pilot. Lisa opted for the rickshaw.