Hatta Dam Ride — Jammed Brakes, Goat Feet and Suspiciously Naughty Foxes

In today's episode: jammed brakes on the captain's bike, goat feet so powerful they shut down grown men, and naughty foxes doing very suspicious things on a bed on a mountain in the wilderness. All on one ride to Hatta Dam that started in the dark and ended in a food coma.

Even Captains Must Be Maintained

Every MotoMoku adventure begins at the same coordinates — the famous gas station where fuel tanks are full, coffee is optional, and plans are immediately tested. Before Captain Mirza, head of PRG, could give his legendary briefing — the one where he says bikes must be perfect, no maintenance needed, no time wasted — his own brakes jammed. Yes. The brake, Captain. This confirmed my long-standing hypothesis that nobody pays attention to Captain Mirza's briefing, including himself. To the rescue: Goldman, real name Shahbaz, the only man who can fix a brake, plan a ride and still look calm. He fixed it, saved the ride, and quietly earned future Christmas ride privileges.

We rolled out around six, about 15 riders, night riding that slowly dissolved into dawn. Flat roads first — the kind where your brain is asleep but your hands are awake — then the terrain began to climb and the majestic Hatta mountains appeared like they were loading from low resolution to HD. No crazy hairpins, no ego riding this time; just smooth sweeping curves, the kind that let you think about life and breakfast. We arrived at Hatta Dam — flood control, water storage, agriculture, and most importantly, biker photo sessions — in a perfect 23 degrees with the sunrise doing its thing. It's the same dam where 100-plus Indian and Pakistani bikers once converged in one convoy.

Dr. Daddy's Small Place Nearby

Just when we thought the ride was done, Dr. Qasim — aka Dr. Daddy, aka Chota Butt — casually said: I have a small place nearby. That small place turned out to be 200 to 300 metres of off-road. Road bikes hesitated, traction disappeared, confidence dropped, video evidence confirms mild chaos. But teamwork won, and we reached his dera — a proper desi-style retreat hidden at the foot of a mountain — where he ambushed us with a fabulous breakfast: paya, the goat feet of champions, with chanas, halva, naan, kulcha and chai.

This wasn't breakfast. This was a scheduled shutdown. The GPX data shows a very long stop here. Science confirms: no movement after paya for a very long time.

The Fox Bed Investigation

A five-minute climb up the mountain bought us the whole valley view — and one deeply confusing discovery: a bed, in the wilderness, on a mountain, mattress torn, holes everywhere. We asked Dr. Daddy. He said, very casually: foxes come here at night. They mate here. We respect wildlife. Every single rider on that mountain had the same thought: maybe fox isn't an animal. Maybe fox is a nickname. Official version — foxes. Unofficial version — Dr. Daddy, this mountain is a witness.

Then came the official photographer, and grown men posed next to their bikes like honeymoon photos — soft smiles, hands on tanks, deep emotional bonding. If their spouses see these pictures, several members are sleeping in dog houses tonight. These bikes are not machines; they are relationships. Someone filmed me lying down half asleep. I wasn't tired. I was processing goat feet.

We rode home the same way: 230-plus kilometres later, happier and heavier. Mountains, food, friendship, foxes and their activities — this ride had everything, plus Captain Mirza reminding us that even captains must be maintained.

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