Read this incredible Ashtavinayak Cycling journey with an adventurous father-son duo of Sunil and Shriram Khandbahale. How their cycling pilgrimage became a journey of hope, faith, and connection.
In a world racing at the speed of Wi-Fi, sometimes the best thing we can do is slow down, to feel the wind, to listen to our own breath, and to rediscover the people who matter most.
That realization led us, “a father and son” to embark on a ~ 1000-kilometre Ashtavinayak Cycling Pilgrimage across Maharashtra. What began as an adventurous idea culminated as a life-altering journey of faith, love, patience, and rediscovery. Those eight days were more than a physical ride; it became a spiritual and emotional passage, that brought us closer to ourselves, to each other, and to the world around us.
Ashtavinyak Cycling: The Spark That Became a Journey
It all started with a simple conversation over dinner. Like most modern families, our days revolved around work, study, and screens. Between deadlines and digital devices, we were connected online but slowly drifting apart in real life.
Sunil: As an innovator and entrepreneur working in science, technology, and social research, my world often spins fast. But deep inside, I felt the need to pause to reconnect with my son before time and routine carried him away into his own adult world.
Shriram: I was a 20-year-old computer engineering student, busy with projects, friends, and campus life. I loved cycling, swimming, and music, but never thought of combining those passions with spirituality. When Baba suggested, “Let’s do a cycling pilgrimage to the eight temples of Lord Ganesha, the Ashtavinayak,” it sounded almost impossible. But the idea excited me instantly.
And just like that, the thought became a plan. Two bicycles. Two backpacks. One shared dream. We weren’t chasing adventure; we were chasing meaning.
When the Road is your Teacher
From Nashik to Pune, from Ranjangaon to Pali, each kilometre became a classroom and each turn a lesson. The beauty of cycling is that it forces you to slow down, to truly see, hear, and feel the world around.
The smell of freshly cut sugarcane. The sound of temple bells echoing through quiet villages. The laughter of children shouting “Ganpati Bappa Morya!” as we rode past their schools.
Sunil: I realized how much we miss when we travel fast. The road, with all its bumps and blessings, teaches you patience, humility, and gratitude, lessons you won’t find in books.
Shriram: Every day felt like an adventure. One morning, an old man in Ozar stopped us with genuine curiosity and said, “You’re riding to all eight temples? May Bappa bless you!” He invited us for tea and shared stories from his youth. At every turn, strangers became friends, proving that kindness is still alive and thriving on Indian roads.
We met a shopkeeper who refused payment for tea, saying, “You’re doing something holy. This is my offering.” At another village, temple trustees arranged food and stay for us. These moments of generosity reminded us that the true soul of India lives not in cities, but in its people.
Parenting on Pedals
Sunil: I’ve always believed parenting is not about instruction, it’s about participation. On the road, we weren’t father and son; we were a team, partners in purpose.
Shriram: Riding beside my father changed my perspective. I realized he wasn’t just my parent, but also a learner, curious, passionate, and determined. When he struggled on steep climbs, I cheered him on. When I got tired, he reminded me to breathe and keep going.
We shared long silences that spoke more than words. Sometimes our conversations were just the rhythm of pedals, the hum of the tyres, and the whisper of the wind.
Sunil: I watched Shriram mature before my eyes. He wasn’t just stronger physically, he was calmer, more reflective, more connected to himself.
Shriram: And I saw Baba in a new light, not as someone with all the answers, but as someone willing to explore, to fail, and to grow. That made me respect him even more. One of the most memorable moments came when Baba’s tyre went flat near Pune. Instead of frustration, we laughed and pushed the bike together to a station. Later at Pali, when his tube burst again, a local mechanic offered his own cycle so we could reach the temple. It was a simple act, yet profoundly human.
Sunil: In that moment, I realized that divinity doesn’t always live in temples. Sometimes, it lives in the grease-stained hands of a kind mechanic.
Moments of Magic and Meaning
Every day brought something unexpected.
Riding through the misty hills of Lonavala, clouds touched our faces like blessings. At a roadside tea stall, as rain poured, we shared hot chai with strangers who became instant well-wishers.
Shriram: My favorite moment was at Mahad’s Varad Vinayak temple. The lake was still, reflecting the temple perfectly. Baba said, “To see your true self, be still like this water.” That line stayed with me.
At Pali, our final destination, temple trustees welcomed us with warmth. One of them, a fellow cyclist, shared stories of faith and perseverance. That night, we took a dip in the natural hot-water spring nearby which was only known to a few locals. The water felt like divine grace, washing away not just our fatigue but every trace of doubt and limitation.
Sunil: That night, I looked at Shriram and felt deeply grateful. The journey had given me more than memories; it had given me a new bond with my son.
The Ride Home, and What Truly Changed
The eighth day was both emotional and enlightening. As we rode through Kasara Ghat under the morning sun, we realized we weren’t the same two people who had left home eight days earlier.
The noise within us had quieted. The speed of life had slowed. What remained was peace and clarity.
Shriram: When we finally reached home, Aai and my sister Rutuja were waiting at the door. I rushed inside, handed them ice creams we carried back, and said, “We did it!” The joy on their faces was worth every pedal we had pushed.
Sunil: That moment, standing together, tired yet fulfilled, was the real darshan of the entire pilgrimage.
Lessons Beyond the Road
The Ashtavinayak cycle ride was not just an expedition; it was a mirror of life itself.
Cycling taught us resilience. Spirituality taught us surrender.
Sunil: In today’s world, young minds are surrounded by information but starved for experience. They know the world through screens but rarely through touch, sound, or feeling. A journey like this reconnects generations and reminds us of what truly matters.
Shriram: It also changes how you see challenges. Every uphill climb feels tough, but the view at the top makes it worth it. Life is exactly like that.
We learned that slowing down doesn’t mean falling behind. It means noticing what you were rushing past. We learned that faith isn’t about rituals; it’s about trust. And most of all, we learned that love doesn’t need words but just shared experiences.
A Message for Every Family, Cyclist, and Dreamer
Take time. Not tomorrow, not someday, today.
Stop by schools on the way, listen to teachers, empower students, they feel valued.
Ride, walk, or travel with your family. Talk to your children, listen to them, laugh with them.
Give them stories that no gadget can offer. Because the greatest inheritance isn’t money or possessions. It’s time, values, and shared memories.
Cycling is more than fitness; it’s freedom. It connects you to nature, to communities, and to your own inner rhythm. It teaches balance, not just on two wheels, but in life.
Sunil: As parents, we often try to shape our children’s future with advice. But the truth is, journeys like these shape both parent and child together.
Shriram: I’ll never forget what Baba said at the end – “We didn’t just visit eight temples. We discovered eight lessons of life such as love, patience, courage, faith, humility, gratitude, simplicity, and joy.”
And maybe, that’s what Lord Ganesha wanted us to learn all along.
The Journey Continues
Our ~ 1000-kilometre Father–Son Ashtavinayak Cycling Pilgrimage ended where it began at home.
But something within us continues to move.
The wheels stopped spinning, but the rhythm of the journey still echoes in every sunrise, every smile, and every act of kindness we encounter.
“Ganpati Bappa Morya.”
The road goes on, and so does the journey within.
Read Sunil Khandbahale’s day-wise blog posts at: https://sunilkhandbahale.com/category/biking/ of full stories of “Pedaling Through Life: How a Father–Son Ashtavinayak Cycling Pilgrimage Became a Journey of Hope, Faith, and Connection”.
Text & Photos: Sunil & Shriram Khandbahale
Also read, Mitesh Modi’s Cycling Parikrama and 17-year-old Samidha Patel’s record setting ride from Kashmir to Kanyakumari.