Rajasthan

What if the place you fear most turns out to be the one that changes you the most?

An off-road journey through Rajasthan becomes a personal exposure therapy where chaos, beauty, danger and freedom collide on a KTM enduro.

Preview – India, Exposure Therapy on Two Wheels

I had sworn an expensive oath never to travel to India. Too chaotic, too dirty, too overwhelming. Then I heard the words "mostly off-road". That single detail was enough to challenge my fear. Rajasthan would become my exposure therapy.

The journey begins far from Indian clichés: desert silence, luxury tents among sand dunes and brand-new KTM 450 enduro bikes waiting at sunrise. From the first kilometres, it’s clear this will not be a gentle introduction. Deep sand, endless farmland and narrow village tracks demand constant focus. The pace is high, the distances long, and curiosity follows us everywhere. Villages grind to a halt as orange motorcycles and foreign riders roll through, surrounded by smiles, selfies and wide-eyed disbelief.

India quickly reminds me that rules here follow a different logic. That becomes painfully clear during a brief stretch of asphalt, when a sacred cow reacts unpredictably to the noise of my KTM. The impact is unavoidable. Moments later, I wake up disoriented in a ditch, helmet destroyed, shoulder injured. The adventure pauses abruptly.

"Moments later, I wake up disoriented in a ditch, helmet destroyed, shoulder injured."

What follows is a humbling surprise. The Indian hospital experience - something I had dreaded - turns out professional, efficient and reassuring. Preconceptions quietly collapse. Still, riding is temporarily off the table, and I spend days bouncing along in the support vehicle, watching the group disappear into sand, rock and distance.

While sidelined, Rajasthan reveals itself differently. In Jaisalmer, the Golden City rises from the desert like a mirage, its fort alive with colour, texture and history. Wandering its narrow lanes at sunset brings calm I hadn’t expected to find in India.

Eventually, stubbornness wins. A new helmet, cautious movements and suddenly I’m riding again. Strangely, pain fades once I’m back on the bike. The body adapts. The mind follows. Riverbeds, rocky climbs, dunes and forgotten tracks stitch together days that feel both exhausting and intoxicating. Riding here is raw and immersive. There are no fences, no signs, no clear ownership of land, just space, momentum and instinct.

Darkness becomes the enemy. Night riding in India is a gamble I never want to repeat: blinding headlights, invisible obstacles and constant tension. Reaching camp after such stages brings relief bordering on euphoria. Food tastes better. Beer becomes sacred.

As the journey unfolds, villages, wildlife and wedding processions replace expectations with reality. Poverty exists, but so does warmth, humour and dignity. Fear gives way to respect. India remains intense, but no longer hostile.

This is not a relaxed journey, nor a cultural checklist. It’s an uncompromising off-road adventure for experienced riders, physically demanding, mentally taxing and deeply rewarding. Rajasthan doesn’t try to please you. It challenges you. And if you let it, it changes how you see both the world and yourself.