Survival Instincts

 

Drive to survive

The idea seemed brilliant at first when I pitched it to my sister a few months ago. Take a newbie driver, and get her to earn her off-roading stripes in a Thar. My editor loved it, my mom loved it even more. And it only helps that my sister loves the macho, don’t-mess-with-me energy that the Mahindra exudes. “I want to see what your life looks like for a change!” she says excitedly. That was too easy, I think.

Fast forward to the current day and we’re at Igatpuri having signed up for Trail Survivor, Mahindra Adventure’s way of applying a method to the madness of off-roading and helping participants unlock the potential of a 4x4 like the Thar. It’s just another day at work for me – I drove the updated Thar at the Academy last year during the media drive so this isn’t entirely unfamiliar territory. Neither are the faces. Satinder and Pradeep, as well as many of the marshals from Mahindra Adventure are a familiar sight from previous events. The familiar face of Ryan Lee is here too, his hat and demeanour earning him the nickname ‘Sheriff’.

However, for my sister Revati, a paediatric physiotherapist, all this is new. After introductions are made, the first briefing starts off with a dose of off-road gyaan. Transfer case, 4-Low, BLD (Brake Locking Differential), body-on-frame, prop shaft – off-road lingo that is second nature to some of the enthusiasts present seems to baffle my sister at first. “They’re all car guys, they’ll laugh at me,” she confides in me in earnest after we’ve walked through an obstacle and she gets into the driver’s seat of the Thar for the very first time. And then comes that DEFCON 1 panic-inducing trail. Not a great start to an off-road weekend. For her, that is.

Never give up

But to give credit where credit is due, she’s a tough cookie with a steely resolve and stubbornness to not be treated with kid gloves. “I’m not giving up,” she says. “I don’t want to embarrass you.” Sibling rivalries and fights aside, at this point I’m sure I want her to make it through the next trail without trauma. The next one’s a steep uphill climb which seems to mimic the ramp of an upscale basement parking lot. As we wait for our turn to attempt the climb however, I place my hand on my sister’s shoulder. “You got this,” I tell her reassuringly. That one sentence seems to help. She confidently slots the gear selector into manual mode, engages 4-Low on the transfer case, and waits for a thumbs up from the marshal guiding us.

“Brakes on, brakes off,” she repeats the gospel aloud that Satinder advocated in our briefing, describing gentle inputs to the pedals when off-roading. When off-road, one needs to go as slow as possible or as fast as necessary, and if you get your steering and throttle or braking inputs right, the Thar does most of the heavy lifting for you, making you feel unstoppable. The CRDe required skill, mastery and would physically exhaust you when you took it to get muddy. The current Thar strokes your ego and makes you feel like a driving god in comparison. “It’s like the Thar does half of the work for you,” my sister says, beaming with pride after clearing two trails and regaining her confidence. She even tells me to shut up when I’m offering her inputs and opts to find her own way ahead, and I feel secretly proud of her. I won’t tell her that, of course. The Thar has won her confidence, and as long as the Mahindra’s on her side, she has no intent to give up.

Confidence man

The spotter is your best friend when off-roading. He or she might look like someone merely standing in front of your vehicle and directing you how to park, but when you’re off-roading or venturing into uncharted territory, a spotter acts as your eyes, guiding a driver safely through an obstacle where they might be driving completely blind. A spotter’s role has immense responsibility then, and as a driver, you need to trust your spotter completely to pass an obstacle safely, with you and your vehicle emerging unscathed. After a quick lesson on the hand signals used in spotting (again, slightly more complicated than a mate helping you park), we are shown the obstacle that we’d be attempting – an angular near-vertical left-hand drop into a small ravine – and the nature of the obstacle meant that a driver approaches it blind. Trust your spotter and get it right, the result is a slow, smooth, angular descent. Be too ham-fisted or get your line wrong and you’d be part of a topple. I didn’t intend to put the roll cage through its paces so soon. Neither did my sister.

We gingerly line up and Pradeep’s normally cheery and cheerful expression is replaced with one that’s serious. Even with the seat height raised up, there’s no way my sister can see the obstacle which is why Pradeep is watching out for the wheels, body and bumpers of the Thar, being her eyes and directing her inputs. We inch forward, the front-left wheel gently drops down and the right-rear rises up in the air, prompting Rohan, Milind and the Mahindra Adventure shutterbugs to rush and grab my sister’s terrified reaction. Moments later, the drama culminates as we descend into the ravine with all four wheels on level ground. “What’s next?” asks my sister. Having conquered one of the more baffling obstacles does wonders for her confidence, as we head towards trails where we would be taught about winching and camping (the latter one of the newer additions to the curriculum), but it would’ve never been possible without the guidance of a spotter boosting her confidence to make it through smoothly and safely.

It’s all coming together

Day 2 is a relatively boring affair when it comes to action – and I mean that in a good way because with my sister gaining more confidence with the car and the trails, I no longer have to keep on babysitting or providing reassurance to her through the obstacles. Or even stay in the car with her, as I find out later on the axle-twisting articulation pits at the Academy. Along with the photographer Rohan, I hotfooted it ahead to find a good vantage point to shoot photos and reels from, knowing that this is something that she could handle on her own. Okay, her lines were all over the place and there was still some way to go when it came to finessing throttle/braking inputs, but that’s just the relatively more experienced driver in me being critical. The fact that she did it solo itself spoke volumes about her newfound off-roading skills. All the confidence is shaken up again however when we approach one of the final obstacles of the course – a steep, rocky and slippery descent down a mountain, complete with a hump that could damage your vehicle fairly easily. As we walk along the slope, many of us, including the marshals, experience a slip or two, and we’re told about some of the horror stories and what can go wrong if you don’t get it right here. As if to illustrate that point, next to the boundary of the Academy are the railway tracks leading to Mumbai and Nashik. “If you get it wrong, you decide which station you want to head to,” chuckles Satinder on the gallows humour about gravity versus a 2-tonne 4x4 hurtling beyond control.

I’m genuinely worried for my sister at this point. Milind, who’s shooting for Mahindra, doesn’t exactly help by sticking a GoPro inside the cabin of our Thar to capture our reactions, making her more conscious. But this is where all the gyaan that my sister’s been subjected to comes together. She diligently trusts the marshals who are spotting and instructing over walkies, braking and steering inputs are something she’s concentrating on – my only contribution here is offering reassurance with a hand on her shoulder. And to mutter a quick prayer in case things go south. The brakes screech and groan, loose rocks below the Thar slide and nearly induce a trouser accident, but at the end, my sister steers us to safety.

I’ve always maintained that the Thar is a vehicle whose capability, in the right hands, is unparalleled – but what was more profound was the level of confidence that the vehicle can inspire to an individual such as a new driver going off-road for the first time. The method behind the madness at Trail Survivor is, of course, invaluable. I cannot thank the extended Mahindra Adventure team enough for creating these opportunities. And then there’s the Thar itself. Eager to roll up its sleeves and get muddy while also making sure the drive back home is completed comfortably and in double-quick time. After she looks back at the Thar we’ve been driving for two days at the Academy, I quiz her about how she found the course, and she answers – appropriately enough – by saying,

“I survived!”

Shoutout to Ryan Lee, Satinder Kumar, Kashish Bharti, Pradeep, all marshals, the entire extended team at Mahindra Adventure, and Milind Kale