Outrigger canoes, wrote Shyam Menon, typically have a second hull; a thin, long, solid hull meant to stabilize an inherently unstable main hull. The design, he said, “struck a chord: “…in a different yet comparable context, I was a journalist reduced to unstable life by the vagaries of freelancing. 

I could do with a blog as an outrigger to maintain my sanity.”

Outrigger, which began in 2013, swiftly became a one-of-its-kind chronicle of endurance sports but it was much more than just a record of events. Shyam was an incredibly humane and a sensitive chronicler, profiling the struggles and journeys and achievements of many endurance athletes, both elite and amateur, giving them a unique space and voice. 

Shyam began his formal career in journalism at PTI in 1991 in New Delhi, where he also did a bit of photography. He later joined the Hindu Business Line, initially at the Kochi bureau and later at the Mumbai bureau, working there overall for over 15 years. He had a brief stint with Outlook Business. 

In 2007, Shyam moved out of full-time journalism and started contributing articles to newspapers and magazines.  Over the years, he wrote on varied subjects, including automobiles, shipping, music, movies, politics and outdoor activities such as mountaineering, rock climbing, long-distance cycling and long-distance running.

He combined his journalistic eye for detail with hands-on experience in trekking and endurance activities, making his writing both analytical and personal. 

Some years ago, he went into outdoor activity. It started with a multi-day trek to Yuksom in Sikkim, sometime towards the end of the 1990s. This trek opened up a new world for Shyam. Soon after, he joined some local groups for treks in the Western Ghats. Fascinated by the mountains, especially the high-altitude ones, he opted to do a basic course in mountaineering from an institute, following it up with an advanced course. He did a few treks and multi-day hikes in the foothills of Himalaya and was part of a handful of mountaineering expeditions in which he has been able to summit a few peaks, including Shithidhar, and some unnamed peaks in the Zanskar region. 

Once he moved out of formal employment in 2007, he had the opportunity to do brief stints as an outdoor educator with NOLS and Youreka, both outdoor learning organisations. 

Many years ago, travelling back from work by train in Mumbai, a brochure on a mountaineering course in Shyam’s hands caught the attention of a fellow commuter. They both got talking and by the end of that train commute, Shyam got to know of a group that does rock climbing and bouldering on a rock face in Belapur in Navi Mumbai. The key members of the group and the commuter went on to become close friends, accompanying Shyam on many treks, expeditions and cycling trips.

Some of his long-distance cycling trips include the ones from Mumbai to Goa, Mumbai to Mahabaleshwar and round trips around Karjat, Malshej Ghat, Chakan and Lonavala, and a trip in Uttaranchal. His dream was to cycle from Mumbai to Thiruvananthapuram.  

He also stepped into long-distance running, participating in a few half-marathon races and a solo 60-km run from Thiruvananthapuram City to Ponmudi, a hill station. 

His time in the outdoors, especially high-altitude mountains,  often lent him much-needed solace. He yearned for the solitude of the mountains far away from the madding world of urban competitive life.

In 2013, Outrigger, the blog and website (www.shyamgopan.com) began, featuring stories about endurance sports such as long-distance cycling, long-distance swimming, distance running, ultra-running and rock climbing. Occasional stories on mountaineers, mountaineering expeditions and music found their way to the blog website. Sometimes, in the absence of photos, Shyam did some sketches relevant to the story that he was putting out.

Another aspect of Shyam was his deep interest in music, exploring the different genres of rock music (classical rock, fusion, progressive rock, pop rock, indie rock, psychedelic rock), blues and the occasional Hindustani classical music. He loved curating music videos from YouTube, both original and cover versions. Every month, a small group of friends received an email from Shyam containing a list of YouTube links. Over the years, the number of recipients grew. The evening before he passed away quietly, he was listening to Porcupine Tree and King Buffalo, said his cousin who was with him the entire day.

Till the end, Shyam continued his tryst with journalism, writing columns and stories on politics for rediff.com.

On August 31, 2025, Shyam went to the great beyond, pushing beyond his limits, searching for, and finally attaining, that unreachable peak.

As his friend said in a moving tribute:

Adieu, my friend.

Shyam G. Menon, a brilliant mind, a tempestuous soul and a life that never wanted to conform. He could have been a great advertiser, photographer, journalist, or writer, and he did demonstrate his brilliance in all of them, but ended up a guy who embraced nature and endurance. While we all studied, conformed, worked in jobs, and built our families, he did none of that. He was a great student, but not one who wanted to score in exams; he easily got into jobs that were hard to get, but threw them away because they stifled him; and finally confined himself to a world that he created for himself. After he stopped his formal jobs, his resources were meagre, but he lived within that till he passed away quietly at a cousin’s place, while resting after a light gym workout.

Shyam, although four years younger than me, studied with me in our Communications and Journalism masters at the Kerala University campus (I had already done a master’s in science and also held a job, and hence a lot of my classmates were younger). We both joined PTI in Delhi together and remained “friends” forever. He was a lone ranger—irreverent, unwilling to brook nonsense and mediocrity, easily flaring up, and not making friends easily. But somehow, I think he liked me, because he was always warm towards me. While in PTI Delhi, he opted to do photography with a borrowed Soviet-era Praktica camera (borrowed from M. N. Govindan Nair’s daughter Ambika, who was our senior in PTI) and took remarkable photos. Later, he shifted to BusinessLine in Mumbai, while I went to Chennai and joined The Hindu. We remained in touch and in the early 2000s, when I went to Mumbai for a trip to Africa, we met, spent time together, and he introduced me to his love (although they remained unmarried even when committed to each other). Then we lost touch until 2018, when he called on me in Trivandrum. He was still that recluse, but this time running and climbing hills and rocks—a professional endurance specialist.

We last met with R. Rajagopal, the famous Telegraph editor, and his wife Mini, at our place for dinner, and had a great time. Rajagopal and he went a long way back, and he had been staying with Rajagopal for some time.

As I saw him lying in his coffin with so much peace and life on his face, I broke down and couldn’t control my tears. I don’t remember crying like this before. I had always found him a little lost in his thoughts, eyes wide open. This time, they were closed; he was peacefully sleeping.

Will miss you, my friend.

• Pramod Kumar (a friend)

The PEN has fallen silent, but not before leaving behind the indelible ink of stories about endurance sports, ultra and trail running of India since 2013. The outrigger gave the platform for growing the sport in the country, something which no other outdoor enthusiast has done selflessly.

Rest in Peace, Shyam G Menon.

• Petermil D’Souza (trail running and ultra running)

Never has there been a journalist who not just covered the sport of ultra running, but also the deeply personal stories and struggles of the athletes and runners who keep giving to the sport with no expectations. Shyam was an inspiration for all of us in the community. Always loving, caring and humble. A role model for everyone who wants to give back to the sport. Deeply indebted to him for covering the stories of athletes from the villages, plateaus, deserts, mountains, sea shores and every corner of the country. We will continue to help the sport grow in our own ways as a fitting tribute to what he has done for the sport. There will be many more who will follow his footsteps and change the world.

Thank you, Shyam, for everything you have done for the sport and us. You live on in myriad ways.

• Santhosh Padmanabhan (Manager, Ultrarunning team India)

Shyam Menon – Little I knew of you! 

“Thank You’ from all of us …Running community of India

He was not a dear friend. He was not even someone I was regularly in touch with. However, there was something which went beyond – he was a man who took to reporting and commenting on Indian running. It did not matter to him whether you were an Olympian or a newbie who started out to run. He saw the details in it and wrote…He was a man from an earlier era of the golden standards of journalism. Simple, truthful and someone who went by facts. 

I remember him meeting me in 2017, at our office in Vittal Mallya road. Well prepared, on time, and with his own camera. More than what he wanted to write about me, I was inquisitive about him. I felt a sense of older brotherhood when he mentioned he was from Trivandrum and used to work in The Hindu. (Both have a sense of belonging for me). No favours asked, not even a token or momento, he would accept. Somewhere deep down I could sense the stories he wanted to talk about buried in that introvertness. He probably led life on his own terms, while everything around changed.

We kept in touch once in a while. The last was a couple of years back, when he wanted to understand and write about my trip to Kenya and learnings. My own laziness stood in the way, and it never happened.

Shyam (may I have the privilege of calling you Chetta; elder brother in Malayalam) – You will be missed. Many would not know you in the running community, but your blog and writings will stay on…

• Vijayaraghavan Venugopal (CEO, Fast & UP and marathon runner)

Remembering Shyam.

Never did I imagine that this July-Aug playlist would be the last mail we’d receive from Shyam.

Looking through my mailbox this morning, I realised he had been sending us these playlists for nearly five years. Before that, it was blog updates and occasional music shares. 

It’s often the quiet people who leave the deepest impressions.  

The weekend visits to Prashant’s, Vishu, Onam, Christmas and New Year… Shyam has been an integral part of them for years now. Our conversations during those visits have always stayed with me. Over the years, quietly but surely, he left his mark.  

I never imagined his passing would feel like such a profound loss – but it only shows the depth of his impact. His gentle presence, his quiet articulation, his love for music – they will always remain with us. 

I never knew silence could be so loud.

• Durga Dominic (a friend and a recipient of Shyam’s music video listings)

Shyam interviewed me three times over the years. He always struck me by his humility as a person and deeper questions on living a more meaningful life.

• Peter Van Geit (traveller, mountaineer, hiker, runner, triathlete, swimmer and trainer)

A very humble guy and a nice human being, used to regularly cross each other on our regular runs in Nerul (Navi Mumbai).   He was my Chai/Coffee buddy.  Shyam and some of us, used to catch up in one South Indian joint near our place and discuss  running, cycling and other sports and in general.   Running/Adventure sports have lost a friend.  Shyam who would add value by way of his writing about deserving athletes and the sport as such.  Will miss those catchups.

• Mani Iyer (runner and coffee buddy)

Heartfelt condolences on the passing of Shyam Menon, a true friend to the running community. I’ll always be grateful for the time he interviewed me and highlighted my journey. May he rest in peace, and his passion for running continues to inspire us all

• Dnyaneshwar Tidke (popularly known as Don; marathon runner and coach)

Atithi a guest. A-tithi whose arrival is not bound by a date or time. Someone who can walk in anytime.

He arrived some 32 years back, one cold and foggy winter night of Nov/Dec in Delhi’s Rajinder Nagar, well after 10 p.m. or so when we and the neighbourhood had closed all doors and windows and retired into the warmth of our homes.

We opened the doors wondering who it could be. There stood a young thin man with a beard with dark eyes and with some kind of wonder and expectation. He had a bundle over his shoulder and two cartons at his feet. He shivered a little in his woolens. 

My first encounter with Shyam…… he had to vacate his house and had nowhere to go…. can I stay with you? He asked. The bundle contained his clothes. And the cartons, his books and cassettes – his total worldly belongings as a bachelor in Delhi. He stayed for 3-4 weeks mostly silent, engrossed in his music before announcing that he was leaving. 

We did not see him again for more than a decade or so. Then again one fine day the doorbell rang and there he was – leaner and thinner this time than ever with his face and hands sunburnt. But with the same grin and eyes with wonder and expectation. He was now a certified mountaineer and has just returned from a trek in the Himalaya.  He again left after a couple of days with us and remained out of touch.

This year on March 23 in Trivandrum, he suddenly reappeared in our lives. Came home and we talked about various things. He shared a piece of his life with us. Filled up the gaps of the last two decades or so. In the last, he left… till next time, he said.

The next time turned out to be the news that he was no more. We felt a huge sense of loss. 

He came from somewhere into our lives unannounced and we realised with pain that an  A-tithi / Atithi can also leave unannounced.

• Rita Varma (friend)

It is with profound sorrow that I share the passing of my cousin brother, Shyam G. Menon, on 31 August 2025.

Shyam was more than family—he was a gentle presence, a thoughtful companion, and an inspiration through the years. 

As a freelance journalist based in Mumbai, his byline graced The Hindu, Business Line, The Wire, Economic and Political Weekly, Rediff.com, Deccan Herald, The Hoot, and more. His writing covered a broad spectrum—from society, environment, politics, and culture, to nuanced human interest stories and thoughtful essays. 

He was particularly adept at offering constructive, well‑balanced criticism, such as reflecting on the meaning of freedom versus commercial pressures, or challenging education and sports structures in India with depth and fairness.

In his writings on Kerala, Shyam often examined the paradox between the youth’s perception that the state offered limited opportunities and the government’s push for high-profile investment summits. With his trademark balance, he highlighted the tension between local sentiment and state-led economic promotion.

Shyam was also the voice behind the blog “Outrigger”, where he shared reflections on sports, mountaineering, cycling, travel, marathons, and the rhythms of everyday life. Whether chronicling long-distance marathons like the six‑star World Marathon Major circuit, or capturing the allure of wilderness and the value of freedom in essays on the outdoors, his writing was infused with curiosity, clarity, and empathy.

Outside his work, Shyam was a lover of Western and country music—genres he introduced me to with boundless enthusiasm. He often spoke of songs that, for him, celebrated freedom and the inner journey, a mirror to the life he lived.

Shyam lived an adventurous life—trekking the mountains he loved, embarking on long cycling journeys, finding solace and inspiration in nature. Whether on a trail, on his bicycle, or at his desk writing, he embodied thoughtfulness, courage, and quiet discipline.

More than a journalist or adventurer, Shyam was a listener, a thinker, and a kind human being who brought empathy into every conversation. I will remember him for his quiet strength, generosity of spirit, and the thoughtful dignity he carried through his life.

He leaves behind not only published words and his enduring blog, but also the many hearts he touched—with warmth, insight, and a deeply adventurous soul. He will be missed more than words can express.

• Unnikrishna M Damodaran (cousin)

I remember the time when there was no media voice, and he made efforts to give due coverage to Indian ultra running. I still recall those days when the sport had no recognition, yet he worked tirelessly to bring the coverage it truly deserved. We are deeply indebted to his selfless work.

• Sandeep Kumar (ultrarunner and coach)

I met Shyam in a Belapur-bound local train while travelling back from work, maybe in the year 1998 or 1999. We got talking as he had a brochure for the NIM mountaineering course with him. Our common love for the outdoors meant that we started going for hikes, for rock climbing, mountaineering expeditions and bicycle tours together.

Since Shyam lived in Navi Mumbai it meant that he spent almost all his evenings on the weekend at my place. We had tea and the ‘Jim Jam’ biscuits that he would get. He would also experiment by bringing any new biscuits that had been launched. We spoke on everything from music, sports, ethics, politics and whatever was current. Shyam loved music and he listened to a varying genre from classical rock to classical fusions. He would curate a list of songs and send it to all of us every month. There was a huge audience for this in my family. He was part of us and loved by everyone at home. 

For me, it was always clear that we all must leave this world, and it shouldn’t have come as a shock when Latha called to inform that he was no more on the Sunday evening. But as much as I am aware of it even now when I write this piece, I find it difficult to believe that he will no longer be with us. For me it’s a sense of disorientation when I think of the fact that I will not see him on the weekends, or he would never be beside me whenever I ride my bicycle again. It’s a void that will always be there and I wish that I could have said a proper Goodbye when we last met. But then, don’t we all wish the same with our most loved ones?

• Prashant V Kayarat (a friend who accompanied Shyam on cycling trips, trekking and mountaineering expeditions – rock climbing, long-distance cycling, mountaineering, trekking and hiking)

The name Shyam G Menon takes me back to the year 2000, when I entered the hallowed halls of The Hindu Business Line, as part of a bunch of trainee reporters, freshly minted from journalism school.

My earliest memory is of him gazing deeply into his computer, typing away at something furiously furrowed eyebrows in deep concentration. He always had earphones on, and one could hear ever so slight strains of music, perhaps, as he tried to drown out the sound of giggles and laughter from this new bunch who had joined the office. 

Often, we didn’t even realize he was around. So quiet and into his work, trying to blend into the office walls and not take up any extra space. His face, eyes, always intense, deep in thought, jaw set in a determined resolve, of what – God only knew.

Someone would purposely disturb him sometimes and call out loudly –‘Shyam’ just to disrupt his intense concentration…. his first reaction always an initial startled expression, then the instant softening of his facial features and easing of the furrowed brows into a relaxed, endearing and warm smile, that softened the steel in his eyes. 

I later learnt that he was not that much older than us. Perhaps, just 5-7 years. But he had the gait and countenance of a much older person and carried himself with an air of quiet authority.

He hardly spoke to us, in those early days, but when he did – it was matter of fact and mostly, on editorial matters, as he cleared many of our stories.  His partner of many years, and our senior colleague in those days Latha, was the bridge through which he eventually formed a few friendships with the new lot. 

Shyam gave sage advice, mostly around journalism. He was one of the few people in the early days who told me ‘Your job cannot be your life’ . In the early days, I never fully understood what he meant. Given his passion for mountaineering, rock climbing and the outdoors, I thought he meant one must have hobbies even if journalism was one’s passion.

It is only decades later that I understood the true value of that piece of advice, to not fuse one’s identity with one’s profession. Shyam was a rebel, a non-conformist, the original tortured soul and always anti-establishment. But he always lived on his terms and by his rules, uncompromising on his ideals and principles no matter how hard the road got. 

We lost touch over the years, but I ran into him once with another colleague a few years ago at Connaught Place, Delhi. His smile instantly lit up his eyes with amusement upon seeing the two of us, as if to say ‘ now what shenanigans have you two been up to?’

It was a shock to learn recently that he suddenly passed away at 56.  The news brought back a flood of memories from the old days. Sleep well, dear Shyam. You have truly earned the rest.

• Rukmani Vishwanath, (a friend)

Dear friend,

I am deeply saddened by your loss. Shyam, your spirit and legacy will continue to inspire us all. Your impact on those around you is immeasurable, and I’ll cherish the memories and lessons you have shared.

My children would eagerly wait for your trips to Delhi, knowing that a visit to the climbing institute in Moti Bagh was a promise you would always keep. It became your special ritual. Patiently, you taught them not just the ropes, but how to be fearless and trust their own strength. You instilled a thrill for adventure in them that they carry to this day. It’s no wonder they adored you, just as I respected you.

I always wondered how you could so purely follow your passions. Your idealism often shook me; I was supposed to be the one with strong convictions, but you lived yours without compromise. I recall offering you a well-paying assignment with the ministry, and you refused, simply saying your heart wasn’t in it. Sadly, they don’t make people like you anymore.

My mother loved you, and I will be forever grateful for how you helped arrange her treatment at Aster Medicity with Dr. Harish Pillai, who took such wonderful care of her until her dying day.

I will miss your warmth, your sincerity, your wise counsel, and your visits to Delhi. Your website is a beautiful tribute to your life and work.

May you find eternal peace, serenity, and love on your journey ahead.

• Col (Dr) Divakaran Padma Kumar Pillay (a friend)

Whenever I see JimJam biscuits, you know the ones that are round in shape with a bright red jam centre, I think of Shyam. And most likely I’d be having tea with Bong (Abhijit Burman), and then we would speculate where he (Shyam) is, in Kerala or back in Nerul. He always brought JimJam to our climbing sessions.

He would climb the same route multiple times, ad nauseam to me at that time. Nowadays we do the same, the new term being “endurance”.

He climbed the Grigri 12 times in a session. Grigri is by the way a classic at our Belapur crag.

I was with him on two expeditions to the Bagrani glacier, reports written by him which I now read again and reminisce in my grief.

He was an uncompromising journalist, falling out with his peers, and he resigned from the mainstream and freelanced. He had very little means to live off, oftentimes one meal a day.

His blog “Outrigger” featured the athletes unknown, unsung heroes deeply researched and interviewed by him. I should know. He featured me in 7a@65. He came home to talk to my father. He chronicled our journey in climbing over the years right up to hosting the IFSC Bouldering World Cup in 2016.

He was a serious long-distance runner and cyclist. He had stopped climbing. I tried to get him back.

Bong’s place was the adda to meet in the morning for breakfast. Some months earlier, he complained “I’m getting fat, Franco”. He sent me snippets of his travels. I treasured his opinions, critical thinking on various issues – political, environmental. I will miss his monthly music picks.

We were looking forward to meeting him this year for the Onam lunch at Bong’s.

• Franco Linhares (a friend – rocking climbing, bouldering, trekking, hiking and mountaineering)

With the passing away of Shyam G Menon, we have lost an outstanding journalist who didn’t follow the rule books of journalism. I started observing him while doing BA in Govt Arts College. He used to come there for elocution and debate competitions and invariably take home the prize. Later on, at Kerala University’s Communication & Journalism Dept he was my senior. I could see his designing skills in making posters for Jamboree, an intercollegiate competition. In Kochi, when I joined Financial Express (FE), he was already a Principal Correspondent of The Hindu Businessline. Just observing him work and seeing his bylines was itself an inspiration.

Whether it was a human-interest story, a business feature, a profile or sports story, his style of writing and presentation were extraordinary.

• Sreekumar Raghavan (a friend)

(Shyam G Menon passed away on August 31, 2025. He started this blog website shyamgopan.com in 2013. His first post on the blog was on August 31, 2013)