Camp-kayak-hike Sylvania Wilderness

It’s been almost two months or more, but I need to write it down. There was something that Mary said last week at the book club, she is old and she was continuously jotting down names and taking notes. Also, since I opened a fb account there are all these people whom I can’t place sometimes so I’m realizing this thing about memory, that it’ll fail me. And even though I think that I will remember somethings like they happened yesterday, I know it’s not true, there are and will be slips as time passes and new memories form, letting the fresh ones take precedence. So, I need to write this down now when it’s still fresh because of the singularity and novelty and because it was different in ways I can’t exactly figure out. Here’s an account of Camp-Kayak-Hike Sylvania Wilderness in UP Michigan.

I had RSVP’d for this almost a month before it was due, it was a week after the Scuppernong Trail and I had invited Abhijeet along which I wasn’t sure he’d accept. But it sort of all worked out and we started at around 3pm that Friday. I was apprehensive because I had never camped before, and in all my previous treks in India, someone was always there to organize things. I kept going over my checklist, lest I miss something. The driving part also worried me, this was going to be the first longer drive that I was attempting, it was a four and a half hour drive, and I still hadn’t gotten over my fear of taking the freeways. We started despite all these fears that I kept to myself. I almost wished he’d back out because I was so sure it was going to be a disaster.

The roads were good and there were fewer cars once we entered US 41 and US 45 and from there towards County Hwy M, I was driving a little over speed limit and I was terrified, I was thinking of the mirage that gets created in front of your eyes when you’ve been driving for a while. I was afraid my senses will trick me into making a mistake, but over a period I calmed down. It helped that I had company, that I was listening to songs I hadn’t heard before and I was talking. We stopped once for gas, picked up a cinnamon coffee (why is it important to note this down, I don’t know, maybe nothing is or maybe everything is, who decides anyway whether it’s relevant or not?). The roads were picturesque, and slowly I was beginning to enjoy it. I was also getting the knack of it - of driving - when to overtake, when to let go. I was beginning to figure out how and where I’m comfortable resting my hands, how my car behaves at a certain speed and small things. Our next stop was around 7:30 pm at Watersmeet I guess, it was getting dark with a slow drizzle starting just then. We had dinner, picked up beer, there was a guy who suggested Mangorita, and so we grabbed a can of that too. By the time we took the wheels again it had started pouring.

The rains came from all sides, there was no street lights and I was driving. We were glad when we had a car in front of us whose back lights sort of guided us, and we hated when something came from the opposite side with its front lights blinding. I’ll remember driving this stretch, that it was really frightening, that I wasn’t thinking, that I almost knew then that we were lost. I was still driving at 60 miles/hour with Abhijeet reminding me now and again to slow down. We entered another road, it was clearly a forest road, narrow and even in that dark we could make out those huge towering trees on both sides. I was afraid of animals too as we were crossing this. By the time we made it to Clark Lake Campground, the rain had thankfully slowed down to a drizzle. Kevin wasn’t picking his phone and even though I knew Kevin’s loop and site number the gps had stopped and it was after 9 and we took a few rounds before we came across people. It made me happy, seeing those people out there, realizing we weren’t exactly lost. We asked the way for Kevin’s campsite, made few wrong turns, asked some more people and finally found him. Thankfully he wasn’t asleep, he offered us to stay in his RV that night as it was raining. I was almost going to accept his offer when Abhijeet said, we’ll try pitching the tent and we’ll let him know if we can’t make it. Later he’d tell me he didn’t want to ‘inconvenience’ Kevin and also so that we can be free and we can gossip.

We took another campsite not adjacent to, but near Kevin, in the same loop. It was still drizzling a little, and cold. We kept the headlights on the car and we started pitching the tent. It was a first for both of us, Jered had shown me how to do it but on higher level, sort of like this goes here and then pull like this and it’s done. So, we struggled in the dark and in the rain. But like I say we are engineers and it’s our job to figure things out. It was the perfect tent but it was done. We wrapped the rain flap in a haphazard manner, postponing to perfect it the next day. We took our sleeping bags and jackets inside, we took torch, water and that can of Mangorita. We were already feeling that sense of accomplishment at managing to pitch that tent, and that dash of beer was slowly getting into my system. I wasn’t drunk, I was just getting a little tipsy. It was a nice warm feeling on that cold, rainy night, at overcoming the first hurdle sort of. I slept early (he’d complain about it later in another trip that I didn’t talk much, that I slept). I woke up in the middle of night because I had to go to the washroom but I was afraid. And I didn’t want to wake him. I don’t know how long I stayed awake tossing and turning. I was also cold, the sleeping bags weren’t exactly enough. After a while I told myself that I needed to go out, I was going to do it alone. But he woke up and I was grateful because he accompanied me and waited for me. Sometimes I wonder how silly fear is, and what it is exactly that we are afraid of.

We woke up to a sunny day, the temperature was still in lower 50s of Fahrenheit so for me it was still cold but the sun seemed so welcoming. We went around Kevin’s tent who offered us the use of his stove and we made breakfast, bread and cheese for me, bread and scrambled eggs for Abhijeet. And then we made plans, Kevin helped in this. So after breakfast Kevin drove us to the Sylvania Outfitters where we rented a canoe. The tandem kayak wasn’t too comfortable for me, is a nice way of saying I was too fat to get into it and comfortable come out. So, it had to be a canoe. After struggling for a while trying to hitch the canoe in Kevin’s truck, we decided to pay those guys to transport it for us. The drive in Kevin’s pickup was also nice that day, we saw what we drove into last night, and the maple trees were just starting their color change. Kevin also told us about moose and deer and I was just thinking about it all. I was thinking about the time and place and how I ended up being there. For me this will always be the image of North or UP - roads flanked by pine trees, the image first formed during that drive in Kevin’s pickup.

We went to Crooked Lake, where our canoe was waiting for us. Kevin had his red kayak. I had taken a “Canoeing for beginners” class at the Urban Ecology Centre, it had seemed a nice way to spend a Saturday then. I knew some of the basics but this was still a huge lake. So, it was another first for us, but no one was complaining and we got into the lake. It was a beautiful day, with the sun out and wind was almost perfect. We started paddling, making mistakes and then figuring out, learning, enjoying. The blue expanse of the lake, the beginning of Fall, the clouds floating and bluer than the lake the blue sky. The water was clear, we could see the weeds floating below. We went around the lake, there was a small passage which opened into a bigger spread of water. If you ask me I will tell you that I was having the time of my life, it was the surroundings which were weaving that magic. I remember the color “blue”, I remember laughing freely, feeling happy and contented and in harmony with that atmosphere. There’s this clichéd saying that sometimes the forces of universe unite to make something happen, for me that day still looks as if it was woven with wonder, beauty and magic. Nature in one of its most unadulterated state, it reminds me now of that Emily Dickinson’s poem: “I taste a liquor never brewed”.

We reached our campsite after 3 pm, cooked Maggi for lunch. Kevin offered to drop our PFDs at the gear shop as he was heading out for the town. We lingered here and there deciding against a post afternoon nap (argument: shouldn’t be wasting our time sleeping on a camping trip). We thought we can check out the day care area by the beach and take a shower. So, that’s what we did. It took me 15 minutes to figure out how the shower worked, why do they make the showers operate differently every place escapes me. There’s a dialogue in the movie “Once upon a time in the West” where the protagonist says something about a tub of boiling water restoring everything and she had used it in a different context. But it has stuck with me and I remember it now and again, my version is saying to myself, “There’s nothing that a hot tub/shower of water can’t fix”. And as an afterthought maybe it’s trivializing, and it doesn’t always work. But I don’t remember stepping out of a shower and not feeling a tad bit better, or at least till now. I’m not daring you Grief with a hot shower as my weapon. So, the shower did good, felt a lot better and then we walked by the beach. For me beaches are always related to sea, so I stop for a moment when I use the words “shore” or “beach” for these fresh water lakes.

The sun was still up, we spent some time practicing ripple effect. Or he teaching me how to throw flat stones in what angle etc. After a considerable time, I managed to make 2-3 ripples and called it a day. We chased some squirrels and chipmunks, clicked photos, went on a short trail and were back in our camp just by the time the sun was setting. Kevin had put up a fire, so we went to join him. We sat by the fire and exchanged stories, Abhijeet had his first smores. We roasted corn and more marshmallows, and a 6 pack that we shared with Kevin. I had asked him if he had any kids and he said they had a daughter who died very young. I hated myself for asking, and made a mental note in my head to never ask it to anyone again. And I sat there and thought of life and how everybody has to deal with their own issues, with people who come and go, with loneliness. Kevin was saying how one of his ex-girlfriend had got him into canoeing. And about nearby parks and places that we should check out. We stayed till we had used up all the logs, then we said good bye to Kevin and left. It was dark. What I remember now was the expanse of the sky and those countless stars in it. I remember supporting my head on the hood of car and just staring above and not being able to shrug of that feeling of awe at being able to witness it. I would realize it much later that we actually saw a part of Milky Way very clearly that night. We thought we should walk till the lake but it was pitch dark and I got afraid and voiced out loud my fears which probably frightened him so we ended up not going there and now I wish we had seen the reflections of the stars in that lake.

We woke up next morning, Kevin had packed and left. We planned on checking out some waterfall and then head back home. We packed the tent and checked out at the front gate. The ranger there who was kind of cute suggested Bond Falls so that was where we went. The weather was nice and sunny and after an hr or so of drive we reached the Falls. We started at the bottom near the foot of the Falls. I was happy that I could go till the water, I sort of hopped till there. The water was cold but it was fun, and we got good pics. We hiked our way till the top, walking adjacent to the falls, stopping here and there wherever Abhijeet’s “photographer’s perspective” bade him. The water formed sort of silken cascades and there were various viewpoints to take in the ‘flowage’. We reached the top of the Falls and saw a way to the dam. And I’m glad we decided to check it out. After the gushing waterfall our eyes were treated to the still water and there was a strange sense of peace or stillness pervading there. I sat by the rocks to take in the view and we got a panorama shot. And I realize just now while penning this down that the details are already escaping me. Anyways we started from there, it was way past noon. There was some other river that we stopped by, by this time I was asking Abhijeet to drive. Since I had driven I knew that all we had were straight roads and less or no traffic. So, he drove us and we made another adventure out of it.

I reminisced when Titun had taught me how to ride a motorcycle on our way back from Deomali, and I knew that there’s a certain pleasure to be derived from driving and especially in those roads. Also, when I was driving I had to concentrate on the roads and I was glad to have a break. And he had good instincts so it was fun and interesting. We stopped by a pizza hut for a late lunch, and we talked on our careers and this and that. He was narrating incidents from his campus interviews. It was also during that lunch that I would come to know for the first time that he would be leaving for Plymouth in another month or two. And the slightest tinge of sadness that I felt. We started from there, and I guess he still drove another two hrs (we also made a video as a proof) before finally handing me over the wheels. We listened to songs while I drove and reached Milwaukee a little after 6 on Sunday.

It was a lot of ‘firsts’ and that is another reason why this will always hold a special place in my heart for me. I fell in love with UP Michigan because of this trip. I made and I understood that we needed friends at all stages in life. I realized that I could never have done this alone, that it made all the difference in the world because I had company. I also got confident about driving, this trip alone did what three months hadn’t done. I knew my car better. This trip made me feel like we achieved some things, mostly because of the driving but it also felt like we got a lot of things done. Like in some places I leave a part of me, in this case I carried and brought along something back with me – that’s the closest I can explain in terms of words.

Scuppernong Trail at Kettle Morriane

I had RSVP’d for the Scuppernong Trail which was posted on Milwaukee Campers, Backpackers and Hikers Meetup. I had managed to drag one of my co-workers Abhijeet too, so early on Saturday morning I picked him up and we went to Susan’s place with whom we were carpooling and who was driving us there. And this is an account of my first hike here in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA.

It was a beautiful day with just a hint of chill in the air. The roads had less than the usual traffic with it being a Saturday morning, and after driving a few miles on I-94 we took the exit towards County Road E and the route became scenic. Susan and I kept talking with Abhijeet jutting in now and then. We had plugged in the coordinates and reached the trail head after a good 40 minutes’ drive. We could see a few people had arrived, Susan knew Donald and Mark and that’s how we located our group. After a round of introduction - just names – the seven of us along with two dogs started on the trail path.

We were led forward by Sung, who had organized this. We were doing the green loop, the previous day I had googled and had read somewhere that it was a 12 mile hike and I was a little apprehensive about my stamina. But then Sung or Gordon checked and they informed me that the whole loop was just a little more than 5 miles. With my imaginary fear thus assayed, and with a hearty spirit I thus started on the trail path. Abhijeet kept me company for a while, we shared stories from previous trips’. Then somewhere along the road I walked a bit with Mark, a part of it with Gordon, some parts alone. Susan walked with Don, with both of them collecting hickory nuts. The dogs Ginger and Mulligan, making us keep up the pace whenever they found anyone slackening. 

There’s something about being in the woods that appeals to all the senses. There are those various shade of green, brown and red pleasing to the eyes, the sounds of insects and birds keeping us company, the commingling breeze bringing a whiff of dirt and foliage as well as tingling our skin – stirring up memories, and let’s see now what do I attribute to taste – the parched feeling which makes that gulp of water extra sweet? The truth is I felt a sense of overwhelming satiety, also a sense of being in a weird way, because for a while I was able to let go of my existence because I blended in and became a part of it.

Komorebi: (n.) sunlight filtering through trees

That’s the image which will stay with me of that walk. And all I have are broken phrases like something fresh, something beginning, something unadulterated. I was reminiscing one of my earliest hikes which was the Rajmachi monsoon hike, and the people in it. I was thinking I had fell in love with the woods during that, or was it before that… the place I was born - Koraput – was this little hamlet surrounded by forests and hills and mountains so maybe that had moulded me. Or it’s just plain old Nature and these hikes are like going back to her.

We took a few breaks, joked about animals and people and nations and languages. Gordon took a detour along with Jackie and Ginger to start the coals for the cookout planned afterwards. We completed the green loop and joined them half an hour later, with our feet complaining but the spirit rejoicing at finishing it. Then we all pranced here and there to set up tables as if the hike instead of draining our energy had replenished it. We piled up food and beer. Susan had bought table clothes, vegetables, dip, grill, fruit, skittles, corkscrew ??; I kept saying how she had thought of everything to which she replies that at her age you think of all these. But she wasn’t alone, there was Donald with his foldable tables, water in a jug with spigot, buckets. Sung had bought all these different types beers from Chicago and Wisconsin. So, we all started on the Oktoberfest. Susan and Abhijeet cut up the veggies and set them with the dips. Kaela filled Portobello mushrooms with tomato and cheese and we put them on the grill. Gordon was already grilling bratwursts and hot dogs, remarking that he is doing all the hard work – cooking he meant. We added veggies, asparagus and Sung’s famous potatoes (which took ages to cook) to the grill. It was the good humored banter, Gordon was of course heading it joined with Mark and Susan. I guess he did his best to rattle her, so much that she made Donald sit between them. They made fun of me and Abhijeet, Susan, the dogs, the food and I was a little relieved that we didn’t take offense. Abhijeet even came up with a befitting repartee that put me at ease. They cracked jokes sparing no one and I don’t know if it was the beer or it was just their natural disposition. I guess it was that happy spirit which had kind of engulfed us that day. And in a strange way I didn’t feel excluded. It was not just that I had another Indian with me or an Asian and hence it was more of a diverse group, because there was something else that bonded all of us that crossed the barriers of race, age and nationality. The drive back with Susan was equally interesting when she said she didn’t want the gps and she wanted to drive from her memory. The day was entering its third quarter, and the cloud floating on blue skies, the country roads flanked on both sides with yellow and purple flowers, the lone farm houses and windmills all played a part in heightening the beauty of our surroundings. We reached Milwaukee around four pm and I was left with the feeling that the day couldn’t have been spent any better.

For the highlights of the trip, the striking similarity between Donald and Christopher Walken, Susan being nicknamed dirty Susan, Abhijeet being nicknamed man servant, Kaela hiking with her flip flops, Sung’s potatoes, my pronunciation of “asparagus” and my famous salsa (which was Sam’s recipe). Gordon sure was the life of it despite his nearly-offensive remarks. I like Susan’s comment later when she said “Jackie you are a saint and Gordon you are a riot.”

Does it become more pronounced when you say it again and again, and in how many different ways can I describe the harmony of that Saturday in September. I witnessed the happy carefree side of nature, human and otherwise. And it was perfect. Period. 

Walking through Madison

I wanted to visit Madison since I came here, more so than Chicago. A part of the lure lay in the fact that it created an image of this little college town, flanked by old bookstores on both sides. So, this weekend I finally went there with Kathy and her mom Wendy. And I’m writing down this account so that I can come and revisit the memories again.

We started early afternoon, and it was a bright, summer day. It was a little over an hour long drive from Milwaukee, and we reached Madison around 1:30 pm heading towards Wisconsin State Capitol building. The dome resting on the columns looked simple but elegant, an imposing piece of architecture almost demanding respect by virtue of its nature and history. Sam had shown me images of the earlier protests held here against Gov. Scott Walker so I had this romantic notion of what this building had stood for and the role it had played, so all of it was coming back to me. There was also this gold figurine at the top of the dome which caught my attention, I had googled afterwards to find that it was referred to as “Golden Lady” carved on the lines of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and there are connecting thought threads in my head with this statue and the city being home to University of Wisconsin – Madison.

There was no check post or security, we just walked into the East Wing, no tickets and the inner rooms boasted of an equally magnificent design. The walls and ceilings were decorated with paintings and murals which evoked another surge of awe and reverence as we walked through taking it all in, walking though winding stairs and checking it out from different levels. There was a wedding group in the city hall, and I was thinking that maybe the surrounding and the event itself complimented each other, like a celebration of something grand and ceremonial in that place was justified.

Next we took the road to Monona Terrace which was nearby, the view of Lake Monona from the top was beautiful and the weather with the wind blowing through on the sunny day was almost perfect. Kathy had made a list of things to check out so after grabbing lunch we went to State Street and parked there. We started walking, checking out local shops which were on both sides. I loved those little shops and I liked the fact that I had Kathy with me who I knew wouldn’t mind at all checking out these small cards and journal and odds and ends stores. So, we went to 2-3 similar stores and I enjoyed them, I’m going to make an exception to my aversion to window shopping. So, bookstores (new and old), card shops and these places in Madison are heretofore exempted from that list.

We continued our walk along State Street, treated Wendy with Cheese Curds which is a Wisconsin thing. Then stopped at Collectivo Coffee House for a while before resuming our walk on the street lanes. It was in essence a quintessential college town, Kathy kept saying how it reminded her partly of Sacramento and partly of Berkeley. We passed through fraternity houses, lot of college students settling in for the fall semester, and there was this twinge of regret inside me for the things I cannot acquire. And this city was bringing out all those repressed dreams. We drove towards Memorial Union Terrace next and this was the best part of the trip for me.

We stopped and parked for some 10 minutes near the Dept. of Limnology where we were not supposed to, but it was beautiful. I walked around the lake with Kathy, we dipped our feet in the water, walked on the ramp for boats, and we saw all those ducks and gulls, and the array of sail boats all out there in Lake Mendota. It was pleasing to the eyes and to all other senses too. We heard music on the terrace, so we went to find a proper parking spot so we can come back and spend more time here. We came back, this was where Wendy’s father had attended college and I was thinking what she was feeling back there. By the time we reached the terrace, it was filled with people of all ages, families had come to drop off their kids. There was this strange sort of vibe in the air, of things beginning. We went inside a sort of Hall which had German epithets all over, and ordered more Cheese Curds and beer for us. For some strange reason the hall reminded me of Harry Potter’s Hogwarts, it was the ambience inside with colors and those strange signs and young college students, old professors and such types replete with a fire place under one roof.

We came outside with our beers and found a place to sit, the entire terrace was now crowded and the stage was taken up by this Irish group with their jingles and tap dance. There’s something about Irish music, you can’t help not feeling happy and you can’t stop tapping your feet or being taken away by the music and the beat. I don’t know if I have a tourist’s view point, which might be as well since I am one, but it wasn’t too much, as if the whole thing was in harmony. The lake and the boats and the music and the drinking, it was all bubbling with life and it’s clichéd but I don’t know how else to describe it. We stayed there for an hour or so before we walked back satisfied with the day and started the drive back home.

I don’t know if I’ll go back to visit Madison and if I’ll love it so much the next time around, it’s also a matter of who we go with, and I was glad that I went with Kathy and Wendy. I walked along the streets of Madison with this knowledge that all these were transitory like so many other aspects of my stay here in the United States. And as I’m soaking in the views and the culture and nature (both human and otherwise) and a part of me is grateful that I’m witnessing these.

Wayanad Trip

Maybe sometimes it is about ticking places off your list. We went to Wayanad this weekend and though we saw a different Wayanad from the ones in Google images, the trip’s still worth a mention.

We were five of us this time, me and Venkat from Hyderabad and Vijaya, Shalini and Benoy from Bangalore. We rented a car (zoomcar.com) and started from Bangalore at 2 am last Saturday. The first thing I registered that night was Shalini’s contagious enthusiasm; she was all geared in for the trip, not sleepy at all at 3 am. We started playing A. R. Rahman’s “Andha Arabi” (Tamil Version of “Humma Humma”) and that set the tone. After an hour or two we stopped for tea and Vijaya took the wheels from Benoy. Ideally we were under the assumption that we had two drivers – Benoy and Vijaya, only that the last time she drove was three years back and so she had gotten somewhat rusty. So when Vijaya took the wheels, with Benoy re-teaching her, we were all on our edge with Venkat keeping track of speed breakers, Shalini literally taking stock of the gear…and we used to shout – “speed breaker-brakes-slow down-change gear”. She drove for an hour or so and dawn was creeping in when we crossed Mysore. The roads were beautiful with mist coming at us from all sides and enveloping us in this white shroud. We entered into the forest roads and instinctively knew we were nearing Kerala because of the meandering nature of its roads.

We reached Wayanad around 8 or 8:30 am and checked into the KTDC hotel which we had booked earlier. Exhausted by all the shouting, singing and staying up whole night throughout the drive, we all tumbled into our beds and fell asleep as soon as we got into our rooms. I think we got up after a short nap, to the sad news that all the three waterfalls were closed for the weekend. In my head I was cursing Kerala govt. or whoever had planned those road works during our visit. But, we decided to make most of our trip. So, after having lunch we started towards Kuruva Dweep. The recent reviews at trip advisor weren’t encouraging regarding this place, nevertheless we went along. There is a certain charm about Kerala roads, those ups and downs; it’s a different type of experience, different from Himachal roads and other Ghat section roads. And because I was sitting in the front seat I was enjoying the drive more, the speed, the now and then twists and turns along the way. We reached Kuruva Island around 2:30 pm and then took a bamboo raft to get to the other side. They had this rope tied to trees and they steered the raft via these ropes, which I found quite interesting, no fuel and less manual labor…so kind of indigenous. We got down on the other end and passed through small wooden bridges and a forest path with flowers and quite a lot of butterflies till we reached the water spot. We whiled away our time sitting in the water, playing in it, splashing at each other, the flow was forceful and we had our full. We also made a ploy to drench Venkat who was trying to stay dry. On our walk back we stopped at a place where we tried various Kerala delicacies like Pazham Pozhi (Ripe plantain/banana fritters), Gooseberry and Pineapple slices dipped in salt water with chilly, Mulayari Payasam (Bamboo Rice Payasam),Then Nellikka (Gooseberry in honey) and lazed in that late afternoon sun. Shalini lectured Venkat on his bad love choices; actually we all lectured him. And, then finally Shalini had enough and she went into a tirade of scolding in Tamil which got us all roaring with laughter.

While returning we decided to check out Chethalayam Falls; we had encountered a sign board and this wasn’t in the list of closed falls. It was evening and we stopped our car on the way and hiked till the falls. While on the road we were discussing exit strategies in case we were attacked by wild elephants or snakes and like. Vijaya also took us through a swampy detour which was fun when their feet got stuck in it and we blamed the idea on Venkat. We couldn’t go down till the bottom of the falls but at least we got a view of the waterfalls and I was inwardly happy. It was getting dark and we returned back with jugnus (fireflies) following us. We came back to Wayanad and after searching for a while for a place to eat (Apparently people cook in their own homes so not many hotels and that too after 9 pm) stopped at a road side place. Our taste buds were in for an adventure with Appam, Puttu, Pathiri, Parotta – all these with kadala curry for us vegetarians and chicken curry for Shalini and Benoy. And then we got lost for a while but the advantage of having a mallu (Benoy) among us was that we could ask the localites, which we did to find our way to the hotel. The guys retired into their room and me, Vijaya and Shalini were gossiping till late. And I remembered the long chats I used to have with di or Dipti and Suchi and I slept that night thinking that maybe we all need people and we need groups.

We had this elaborate plan of getting up at 4 am the next morning and trek to Chembra peak but either the alarm didn’t go or we forgot to set it, anyways by the time we woke up it was 7 am. So, seeing “misty” Wayanad was no more in cards. But, we weren’t a very cribbing/whining lot that morning. After having Puttu and Kadala (better Puttu than the previous night!), Bread Toast and coffee – a good enough breakfast – we started for Chembra peak. We passed through various tea plantations, again via snaking roads and the sun was near perfect that morning, the tea plantations, the climbing peppers, the lack of pollution, it all seemed as if we had entered some other place or we were in a place where time had slowed down.

We started around 9:30 for the trek towards Chembra Peak along with a guide. Vijaya and Venkat were ahead of us and soon Shalini joined them, while I and Benoy along with our guide started the climb up slowly. Climbing uphill isn’t my cup of tea and in all the treks I am usually afraid of this part. But we were in good spirits that morning and so I started my climb, in my own pace, without any worry. I was reminiscing about my other treks, comparing them with this one. We came across groups of school kids, coming down, few foreigners going up or returning back. Then there were other groups who passed us by and we were still left behind. But none of these perturbed me that day. I kept asking the guide “how far?” and also the people who were coming down, but at least I didn’t feel like quitting. I took a lot of stops, sometimes to check the view below, at others to just catch my breath and rest awhile. I had one Red Bull which actually helped and I had those salted gooseberries which I chewed on as I climbed. There are a lot of thoughts which plagues one during these uphill treks – the futility of it all constantly nagging at the back of your head which keeps asking – to what end? I never used to think that just because I’ve climbed a mountain I’ve achieved something, I usually do it for some or other waterfall at the end of my climb. And this time there wasn’t any, and still I felt good. It was nearing noon but the sun wasn’t harsh. There was this one place in between when we were crossing from one hill to the next and there were tall grasses – the yellow ones and they were moving with the direction of wind and I remembered this Sting’s song “Fields of Gold” specifically these lines: You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky/As we walk in fields of gold… /See the west wind move like a lover so/Upon the fields of barley… .

We reached the top 40 minutes after the trio and I saw that heart-shaped lake Hriday Saras. The localites say that the water doesn’t dry up even in the harshest of summers. I sat there dipping my feet and I was thinking how to add more mysticism to it – that there’s this lake nestled between mountains, which you reach after crossing hurdles and obstacles, which moves you just by being there, which is peaceful in a strange way and I wanted someone to weave a fairy tale around this lake. Who knows maybe it did have a story brimming with elements of wonder, beauty and magic and now people have forgotten the story. All that remains of it now is the shape of that lake, and the vicinity had a dual effect of unsettling you and calming you at the same time.

While returning I was taking my steps cautiously and I met this other guide who saw me and then helped me, he literally held my hand and down I came ‘tumbling after’. And I’ll remember that feeling that he was dependable, stopping my falls and helping me at every step. We took almost 2-3 hours to climb up and we came down in about 45 mins. (It gives one something to ponder about…). Anyways we were all famished by the time we the time we got down. We had ordered meals before starting the climb and now it was ready. The food was the best we had in Kerala. We had Kerala style Rice, Sambar, Rasam, Cabbage Fry, Mathanga Erissery (made of Pumpkin), Vellarikka Kichadi (cucumber cooked in curd) and Papad. There was special Meen Curry (Fish Curry in coconut milk) for Shalini and Benoy. So, it was a very satisfying lunch. We dropped the plan of visiting Banasura Dam as Benoy had to drive us all the way to Bangalore and we were all a little tired. We started for Bangalore, and had a small incident - Vijaya’s palm was crushed when Shalini accidently closed the car door. Thankfully she didn’t break any bones, and we were all pulling Shalini’s leg that she didn’t want Vijaya to drive us on our way back.

While returning to Bangalore we stopped mid-way to have those sip-up ice-creams which was something different for us. And since we had the time to spare we made few more stops on the way for pics etc. Vijaya took the wheels for a good amount of time on our return trip. Venkat was still apprehensive and he was on edge almost the whole time till I think we scolded him. He didn’t even let Vijaya hum words of song asking her to concentrate the road. So, when she crossed one of those speed-breakers without any bumps and Venkat commented “Perfect!” it was actually a genuine compliment which she acknowledged. Meanwhile I and Shalini were enjoying Vijaya’s slow drive to A.R.Rahman’s melodious renditions from Bombay and Roza. We stopped at Mysore for dinner at RRR and the food was equally good. After dinner I, Vijaya and Benoy took a night stroll around Mysore Palace for an hour before starting for Bangalore.

The distance from Mysore to Bangalore was again shared by Vijaya and Benoy and I think Venkat dozed off for some 20 min or so – the ultimate proof that he finally trusted Vijaya’s driving. One of the highlights of this trek was Vijaya’s driving, another was probably the food, and one thing I can’t leave mentioning was the music. We were five people from five different states and music was what connected us best. We could listen to Rahman’s Tamil songs and hum the Hindi words. We had songs in sync with our driving speed. We listened to all kinds of songs, in different languages. There was Dil Chahta Hai, Rang de Basanti, Zindagi Na Milegi Doobara, we had some old Hindi songs, Afro Jack, Lungi Dance, Honey Singh, Manali Trance (which almost became an anthem sort of) and others I had never heard of - and strangely I enjoyed them all despite my biases.

I learnt about people in this trip, that there are stuffs we can’t enjoy alone. And that there are so many emotions and so many sides to each one us, that there are different definitions of having fun, and that Nature humbles us whether we want or not and finally travelling leaves us with something indescribable and wanting for more.

Dandeli Trip

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off- then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”

   -Moby Dick, Herman Melville

Replace sea with water – I’m still making up my mind on whether I prefer fresh or marine – and I feel the same yearning as described above, every now and then. So, I travel. And I get on a bus or train as soon as I can. Below is an account of Dandeli Trip.

The restlessness was creeping in for quite a while now, and I wanted to go away somewhere for a while. I was speculating on two trips, short weekend trip to Hampi or a week in Sikkim around the year-end. So when Vijaya asked me to join for Dandeli trip, I jumped at it. Rajshekher and Venkat helped by booking my tickets ASAP, so there was no backing out. Not that I was looking for a way out, Dandeli was one trek that I kept missing with Hydventura folks and from a long time it was on my to-do list.

We took a bus from Hyderabad to Hubli around 9 pm, and met there with the Bangalore guys. After breakfast at Hubli, we boarded the bus to Dandeli at 8 am the next morning. There is something different about bus journeys, and when you add good roads, plus cold winter mornings you’ll see that it’s not just the destination which matters but the path/means becomes equally meaningful. So, we set out, past meandering roads flanked on both sides by sugarcane fields - their inflorescences swayed by wind, past Dharwar - obliging our taste buds with its famous Pedha, past sparsely populated bus stops alternated with lush green fields with disarrayed scare crows in them till we reached Dandeli bus stop around 11:30 am. Prasad picked us up from there and took us to Stanley Farm House where we had our reservations.

After freshening up we went to their Backyard Lake for kayaking, but we soon moved from bumping each other’s kayaks to toppling people into water, little bit racing, practicing dives and so on, whiling away the next hour or two till we were called for lunch. Post lunch the plan was to go for River Rafting. We drove till Kali Adventure camp for paying and some signatures where we were asked to leave our entire belongings esp. camera with Prasad, which action tormented Nikhil all through the way till Ganeshgudi (which was the starting point for Rafting). The route was through jungle, odd bends and slopes here and there, and picturesque – the reason we missed the camera.

At Ganeshgudi after signing the NOCs (No Objection Certificates) we were given few basic training and the six of us got into the Raft with our guide Malik. Before approaching the first Rapid, Malik told us the commands, safety instructions and then made all of us jump into water in case the Raft toppled or anyone went overboard. We had fun trying to stay still in water then pulling each other back into the raft. We were pretty excited when we approached the first Rapid and thereafter started crossing the river with chants of “Zor lagake – haisha”, “jeetenge bhai - jeetenge”, “jhinga la la - hoo hoo ”… and when we got a liitle bored with these usual ones we started “Venkat - Kaavya”, we have immortalized Venkat’s Kaavya in the hills and woods of Dandeli. We were going to start “Nikhil - Kolkatta” and “Raj - Matrimonial” but we didn’t get much support from our fellow rafters… And so we continued with a kind of continuous ebb and flow of excitement and disappointment in sync with water. We spotted Hornbills, we passed through a stretch where it was eerily calm till Malik “popped” a sound, and I liked this small stretch – the image will stay with me. There was also the competition of surpassing our fellow rafters, Shalini was continuously inciting us for this, and we crossed a few rafts, splashed waters on them with our paddles alias chakku. By the time we were approaching the end we were a tad bit disappointed, because none of us toppled into water and it didn’t scare us enough, so the last rapid was a treat. For me it kind of made up. We bumped into other rafts and we moved upstream headlong into a rapid which pushed us away, this was fun and we stayed for a while, repeating it for 2-3 times and then moved along. We crossed a 9 km stretch and reached our ending point. Some of the epic dialogues apart from our chants were “Apne apne area main maaro”, delivered by Raj referring to rowing paddles/oars in one’s space. And Nikhil imitating Brad Pitt’s dialogue from Inglorious Bastards with approaching rapids, “We are gonna die”.

Chilled to our very bones after the rafting, we reached back to the farmhouse after a short detour to collect the pics and something to drink. We freshened up and by this time the camp fire was set up and all the other guests were returning back too. We had tea, coffee, milk for Venkat (:)), and we had one small bottle of Vodka for me, Nikhil and Shalini. Shalini was having it for the first time, and she gave the verdict that it was no big deal, thereby showing signs that she’ll go far with this thing. There was this group of 8-10 guys who arrived with speakers in their RV. They also had all kinds of hard and soft liquors arranged on a table which of course they gulped down in no time. There was dearth of dance-able songs with beats but the guys were so drunk that they even danced to slow Kishore Kumar stuffs. We too tapped our feet in our own circle with choreographer Venkat and Shalini showing us moves. Then after a while we decided to go for the night trek which was complimentary. By now, Vijaya was on this full-fledged mission of match making between Nikhil and Shalini. With just the right amount of dizziness we started for the moonlight trek accompanied with 2 guides. After a while we spotted deer, or just their shining eyes, we also saw a flying/gliding squirrel, again only it’s eyes. It was an interesting experience, the moon was in its full splendor, it was cold and I was with a group of people with whom it was fun to be. We returned, had dinner and after some time got into our tents. Vijaya was still carrying her tirade of jesting Shalini, till we heard Nikhil shouting from the other tent at her. Anyways we carried on our discussion till some more time talking about “3 hours being enough or not”. (The people for whom it’s meant for will understand.)

The next morning we got up, lazed around for a while with Shalini taking revenge on Vijaya. We then went for more water activities to another river nearby. We did River crossing first and then went for Zip line. We spent some 2-3 hrs. here having time of the world, we were joined by other trekkers and Nikhil found his “karkash awaaz” whose husband received a solid hit during zip line - for he was the first guy – and he cooed back, “no baby, I’m not hurt” (we all started applying brakes in water after that!!!). We played in the water for a while before returning back to the farm house. We whiled away our time talking, lazing in the sun till lunch. Shalini, Raj and Venkat meanwhile had a game of carom and had started playing Cricket. After having lunch we again went to their Backyard Lake and with life jackets on jumped into the water. We spent our time playing in it till it was almost time to start.

We took the bus back to Hubli and with a heavy heart (at least for me) parted from the Bangalore team. Reality was again drawing us back in, and I was thinking about the last two days. Vijaya had been with me in my previous trek and I knew her but this time it was different. She was like the life of the group; she kind of took care of all of us. I envy her energy, her patience. There was never a dull moment with her. She is again one of more of the kind, the one you’d feel like saying “O Captain! My Captain!” Venky’s optimism about his kaavya was one more highlight of the trip. So was Shalini, who we expect would pick up enough Hindi by our next trip. It didn’t seem like I had known these ppl for just two days, that’s how comfortable I was. I don’t know if I’ll meet these people again, hence this long post to relive the magical time. Thanks a lot guys and thanks to Vijaya for inviting me along :) :) :)

Sehnsucht

Sehnsucht [ˈzeːnzʊxt]:the inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what

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Some things I knew. Like I wanted to get away from all these for a while. Like I wanted to go to a cold place. Like I wanted to travel in a train and not take a flight. A lot of things I didn't - especially in their exactitude.

I had miraculously secured two days leave and I wanted to get away from Hyderabad at any cost. My half-sorted out plan - whose execution rested sorely on getting an emergency ticket -was to get a ticket to New Delhi and from there to go and check out Tirthan Valley. And, I didn't get that ticket.

“You should just go to a railway station, check which trains are leaving and get on anyone of them which catches your fancy”, Jiddu Sir had once remarked during Rajmachi Trek. It kept coming back to me that day. I spent 2 hrs. in kfc explaining(in vain)to di, why I needed to travel and travel by train and that I didn't want her buying me a flight ticket to Delhi. Sometimes when you argue things out, you end up convincing yourself so when we left that place I knew that I was going. So, I went home, packed a few bare essentials and went to Secunderabad station. Now, only the How part remained to be figured out.

I spent two-third of the trip travelling. So, this travelogue has three parts: Rail Trip, Road Trip and Tirthan Valley.

Rail Trip

The only train available to Delhi by the time I reached Sec’bad station – which was around 4 pm – was HazratNizamuddin at 11 pm. I got a general ticket till Delhi on that train and I waited. The train was full, and I was just going to give up when I found that there was a compartment reserved for ladies and it wasn't that stuffed. So, I got in and after some initial coaxing with a woman, got myself a place in upper berth – to sit and not to sleep. It was long back since I had last traveled in a general, but I wasn't in my usual whining/cribbing mode, so I found it interesting. There are so many moods, so many incidents in that small running space; a sort of repository on human nature.

They were mostly women from lower working class and their conversations and concerns were identical/communal yet simultaneously personal. The young woman sitting in front of me with her young daughter was beautiful. She would have been younger than me and she still had that innocence, her face wasn't exactly calm, but a sort of contentment gleamed in her eyes, as if the vicissitudes of life had passed through her and left her untouched. She was narrating the story of her three sisters, one whose husband beat her continuously and thankfully was now dead (the husband not her sister). The old crone sitting beside me agreed and narrated a similar story and the discussion took a turn towards religion. They had practical yet fanatic views on religion and religious practices in general.

After an hour or two in some station there was a sudden infusion into the compartment and in a span of two minutes it was completely full. My place was established, owing to the fact that the women hesitated getting on the upper berth. So, children were pushed into upper berths and there was scarcely any place to stand on the floor. The train resumed its pace and there were heated arguments full of expletives, fighting for places, there was the usual taking sides and more shouting, more rallying, cursing each other’s entire generations, making literally brutal appeals to humanities of those who were somewhat comfortably sleeping, and so on. But just like one more handful of grain will go into that container, if you tap it or give it a slight shake, similarly after sometime they all settled down, finding a corner here, displacing some luggage there.

There was some animated discussion on religion, politics (upcoming elections), communities, kids etc. Then on subsequent stations people were getting down, some were getting in. Few men tried to get in, in one of the stations and there was a general resounding uproar from the whole compartment, and no one was let into; the men pushed their wives and children into the compartment. Somehow the children always come under the woman’s responsibility and I was wondering that at times like this it’s an extra burden and how the men are conveniently free from it. I remembered that line from Mary Collier’s poem, “Were you, like us, encumber'd thus with Care”

The crone besides me was another interesting specimen I ran into; she was thin in a strange way – she had reed thin thighs.She had all sorts of trinkets on her; one big Cat’sEye gemstone adorned her wrinkling neck, a watch with a broken dial on her right wrist along with few bracelets and unmatched bangles, and fading golden anklets on her feet. She appeared to be in her late forties, neither young nor old, neither over-bearing nor hostile. Just like each one of us she had her opinion on everything, and like most of us she voiced them.She speculated and considered my marriage prospects, gave me consolatory warnings and advices. She took up a discussion with the aloovada vendor, suggesting that next time he should be carrying pav, as the vadas felt incomplete without them. All this time I was just taking it all in. “It’s always easier for a woman to travel alone, somehow or other you’ll always manage to find a place”, remarked my know-it-all travel mate. So, it was she who finally coaxed me into checking with TTE and I managed to get a 3^rd AC seat from Itarsi Jn.

I missed the lively atmosphere of general compartment when I moved out. It’s not like I was blind to the comforts of AC compartment, it was summer and I had a long journey ahead of me, I just felt a twinge of regret. Everything was hushed here and conspicuousness seeps in, how am I dressed, is my hair fixed, as if irrespective of whether people are judging you, you are seeing yourself through their eyes. There I didn't have to worry about all these; my unkempt state had gone unnoticed. I quickly slipped into the upper berth and took up my novel. Not that there were any less interesting natures here. There were a group of CRPF/navy/army guys who got into at Jhansi, and started catching up with each other; they were loud enough for the whole compartment to know who was placed where and how, what were their plans, the ways and means to climb up in their posts – whether the end justified the means and so on. A mother in a nearby seat was worried about the tantrums her adolescent kid was throwing; she was joined by another couple who narrated their incidents with their kids. They finally came to the conclusion that in earlier times four kids were easy to bring up in the world and today it’s difficult to raise one. I read parts of Austerlitz between short naps. We reached Delhi around four in the morning, and I went straight to Kashmiri Gate to take my bus for the next lap of my journey.

As one grows up, there are no more superlatives; the illusions are shattered more easily. I had it in my bucket list to travel in Rajdhani Express once, and my return trip from Delhi to Sec‘bad was in it. It was not all the heightened experience that my saved-up and longed-for expectations demanded; I have traveled in better trains with better services and better food. But, maybe it’s all a part of the act, and there had to be disillusions.

Road Trip

Changing trains would have been a headache and to reach Tirthan almost two-thirds of the journey had to be by bus – it being the only affordable means of commuting. So, I took the first available bus to Mandi (Delhi to Manali via Mandi).

I have a mild form of motion sickness and I prefer trains to busses and if it’s busses I prefer them with windows, not the AC Volvo ones. I knew we were travelling into Himachal Pradesh which had mostly hilly terrains. It was 5:00 in the morning; the bus conductor gave me a front seat and upon enquiring pointed me to a free dispensary. There was just a helper there, a very young guy who wouldn’t be more than 20, and no doctor. I told him that I might feel like vomiting during travelling and I needed some anti-emetic pills as precautionary, he fidgeted into some drawers and dished out 2 chewable tablets. I don’t know if he understood me and knew what those tabs were for, but since we both trusted each other I think the pills did work (whether inherently or as a placebo, I cannot confirm).

It was difficult to breathe in Delhi, even in those early hours one could feel that heaviness in air and as we moved along it was clearing out and I could start breathing fresh, clean air.A few miles from Chandigarh and I had my first view of mountains. Initially I didn't know if I really smelled the cold in the wind or my mind was playing tricks with me showing/feeling what I wanted to.

We changed the NH after a few more miles after Chandigarh, around Kiratpur where I saw a river, a full gushing river. The mountains which were visible sometime back were now close by and we were going into them. There was no plain road anymore.From here it started, one hill then next and after a while I lost count. We passed by Swarghat and Naina Devi Temple on our way, also the famous Bhakra Nangal dam.This route would be lusher during winters but I could still see coniferous trees, there was this one tree which bears purple flowers whose name I didn’t know, which appeared now and then and looked beautiful. The weather was becoming pleasant and the sight of dry leaves falling was picturesque. It was a long journey of 12 hrs; we passed by Bilaspur, then Sunder Nagar - both charming and noteworthy places. I was already feeling satisfied, drunk on that scenic route. And then we reached Mandi, that beautiful hamlet on the banks of river Beas. I wanted to stay back, it was like let me just stop a while here, but then again this wasn't my destination. I took a bus from Mandi to Aut. If what I had seen till now was scenic, there was more waiting for me. Meandering through the river Beas, the road crosses mountains and one 3 km long road tunnel through the Pandoh Gorge to reach Aut, I loved this stretch of tunnel too.(By the way this is on the way to Kullu, so people travelling to/from Kullu would also pass through the same route.)I have almost fallen in love with bus journeys because of this trip.

It was getting dark and I took a cab from Aut to Tirthan Valley, the beauty of this route was waiting for me on my return trip. This was the best of the three, if I take Delhi-Mandi, Mandi-Aut, Aut-Tirthan. I envied those people their proximity to nature, nature in its unadulterated forms. It didn't feel like summer. From Tirthan to Aut, the river Tirthan passes through the towns and at Larji there is the confluence of Sainj and Tirthan. While returning one can visibly see the difference between the two waters, the clear and clean waters of Tirthan was very different from that of the water downstream. It’s some 30 odd kms from Aut to Tirthan via Banjar, but it took more than 2 hrs. because of the hilly road. Not that I was complaining, I almost wished the road wouldn't end. It seemed like belonging to some other part of the world. I was sitting on the front seat and had an awesome view. I passed through trees with leaves in shades of green, yellow and red. The driver was chatty;we talked on driving/managing those narrow roads and bends and he was remarking that someone who learns and manages driving in the maze of Himachal roads can drive through anything, and I can feel the truth in that. He was telling me about the apple orchards, the road feasibility, the pros and cons etc., all these in the background of those 70’s hindi songs playing.He dropped me at Aut and waited till I got a bus to Mandi.

From Mandi I started at 6:30 in the evening towards Delhi. We came through an alternate route this time, and I have to mention this ride. We didn't get a blink of sleep that night. There was literally no road, or barely patches of it and this was the condition for a stretch of five whole hours. Initially I tried to nap but then I gave up that idea when I saw that every 5 minutes or so there would be a jerk, that screeching brake, next a bend and so on. I had still managed a front row seat in the bus, so I opened my windows wide and I concentrated on the roads and the way the driver maneuvered. There used to be these Maut ka kuan (Wall of death) in circus/carnivals which we used to go and watch. So, I felt like the bus driver was trying such a feat, taking the passengers along. After a few complains you give up, so I started enjoying it after the first hour I guess. It was almost like a joy(read death) ride, and one got a fair share of adrenaline rush so it was tiring but fun.

Tirthan Valley

As I was travelling I was feeling as if I was being pulled into something; and just when you think it’s enough, it pulls you further in. Like that fairy tale in which one has to cross seven seas and seven chests to retrieve a key. When you've reached this far, crossing everything, to the other side of mountains, do you want to go back? As if all these mountains are physical barriers, shielding you from that outside world and you want to stay back – here forever – ensconced within these mountains. That is how this place was.

When I reached it was night, the cab parked on the other side of the flowing river and it was through a cable car that I reached the hotel other side. The people were warm and welcoming. It was a small place; they lent out some five or less rooms to tourists. The room was clean and warm, they got me hot tea, dinner sometime after and I happily went to sleep.

I didn't want to go anywhere; I just wanted to spend some time away from my cubicle, away from the cacophony of Hyderabad, away from everyday work, from obligations, and just for 2-3 days.

The water in the stream was cold so I couldn't stay in it for long, but it was so calm and tranquil. There were high mountains wherever you turned your head. There were small flowers on shrubs, multi-colored flowers; there were a bunch of cat tails at some distance. I was sitting under a fir tree; and I saw a spider’s web, one straight filament connecting one tree to the next. It wasn't always visible, only when the sun’s ray fell on it and you leaned to a certain angle you could see it. I wished I had that Whitman’s poem,“A Noiseless Patient Spider” and I could read it aloud. But then I thought would I ever have read it aloud just to myself? I’d have done it if there was someone to hear me, but then again I didn't want anyone there as in I’d never take anyone there, just like I wouldn't suggest anyone that they should read Maugham. Ya, few things we keep to ourselves, not like others are forbidden but more like I won’t impose these on anyone. You are free to discover if you feel like.

So, this is what I did for 3 days, got up in the morning, had tea, went out, sat by the river and read novels or watched spider nets or collected stones or just lied down. I walked here and there, nearby, just following the stream, searching for some rock to sit in so that I can dip my feet in water. There was no one to disturb, I used to sit in water for a while and when tired of that used to laze in the sun.  There were chair and table and I used to prop my feet up, recline and go back to my reading. I had taken Thoreau’s Walden and I was somewhat comparing notes. Whenever I felt like why I exactly came all this way to sit and read, all I had to do was browse through few pages of Walden and it made sense or at least his arguments were satisfactory. Also, I actually wanted to do just that and I cannot reason myself to anyone.

The second day I started Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping, I had it with me since last year and now I came to finally read it. So, the second day flew by quickly with me being engrossed in the novel. The kitchen was near my room, I had a room downstairs, they grew their vegetables there, and they used to lay my table on the outside, on time breakfast, lunch and dinner and teas in between. The stuffed paranthas for breakfast were heavenly, so were the hot phulkas with butter. It was authentic north Indian ghar ka khana, neither too oily nor too spicy, and just perfect. To top it off there was halwa or kheer for desert. I loved every moment of it.

I left with a heavy heart, that last day I was thinking you should come here to benumb your senses, to forget, to be indifferent to everything for a while, to let go of everyone and everything – just temporarily.

If you are looking for something slightly calmer then you can visit the place. There’s a Jalori pass for trekkers and there was a waterfall and Great Himalayan National Park among nearby places or you can just walk around. I didn't check out all these as they weren't in my itinerary. So, travel enthusiasts, please google. Some people will love this place.

I don’t know what I left there or what I took from that place. Would the sound of that river or those views stay with me or it’d all become a part of some dream? Was it worth the arduous journey and my stubbornness? What did I run from? What was I returning to? And what did I loose in between? Did I want to stay? Did I want to return? Did I have to go and return? I won’t know these answers. So many places to return to, so many books to re-read, things undone, words unsaid, excuses made, explanations evaded - I want to go back, someday soon. I don’t know when.

Dudhsagar(Goa) Falls

To leave your gender behind while leaving for a trek is something I understood on my very first trek. So, it was a contented ‘me’, with a smile plastered on my face , as I trekked the last kilometer fresh out of Turvi river, dripping happiness and bliss. An account of Railway Line Trek to Dudhsagar falls organized by Hydventura, is penned below.

We started from Hyderabad, twenty-two of us, for Castle Rock station (As they mentioned in the itinerary, the name has a nice ring to it!). We reached around 12 noon the next day and embarked on the 14 km long Railway line trek. Now, 14 km might not seem a heavy number for a plain road, instead it was a stone/rock bed lining the tracks, and after sometime the peripatetic nerve endings began mouthing profanities, communicating their displeasure to the other end, making you wish like hell that your shoes had an extra padding. It was a 6 hour long trek and the rain gods’ betrayal made it no easier. Even as the few streams we encountered on the way did their best to infuse energy and refresh us.

We reached our destination around 6 pm, crossing tunnels and bridges, a ‘welcome to Goa’ signboard… and the first sight of the falls was (pause...) as always - mesmerizing. The visibility was decreasing so we postponed further exploration till morning. The Railway line, running parallel, divides the fall into two halves and adjoining the railway bridge, is an elevation-a view point with two or three benches, some fifty feet across the fall. It was here that we decided to pitch in for the night. We made a to-do tent out of tarpaulin sheets, and with a childish enthusiasm we grabbed the places to sleep. We had our usual dinner of chapatti and priya pickles and after being allotted sentry duties, went to sleep in our respective sleeping bags under the blue roof. Our previous sentries woke me and Ashu up at exactly 00:00 hours. And in all conscience, I dare not describe the beauty that I witnessed during that pitch-dark hour.

The blackness of the night instead of concealing highlighted the milky white falls, whose aggression was, it won’t be wrong to say, literally visible. The sky was full of stars, clusters of them trying to outwit the clouds. Reclined on a stone bench under a star-lit sky, with jugnus (fireflies) atop mountain bushes and the sound of waterfall – music to our ears, we failed to comprehend the fog’s setting in and then thinning out the very next minute and now and then a passing train’s light which transformed the entire place. This one image will stay with me, for days to come, till sanity shall make its long overdue departure.

With much persuasion and mild admonitions did we finally leave our warm sleeping bags the next morning and started downhill via a forest path to reach below. I didn’t waste a minute to get into the water. The force was something to reckon with, the pressure had the ability to numb your whole body in the span of a few minutes; one false step and the water would take you along with it. Sunil (when he saw Ashu coming with a rope) came up with the idea of river crossing and somehow they managed to cross to the other side (the crazy four who left me) and then tied the rope to a tree on that end. We did a similar knot on this side and then started, on what would be, the most exciting and somewhat-risky adventure. We had to cross the river using the rope as a hand-line, and owing to depth there was no footing in the middle, the flow being at its violent best. We had to float and cross it, never letting go of the rope, and it was one hell of an experience.

We boarded the train from Dudhsagar to Londa and having some three hours to spare, decided to take a dip in the Turvi River which was nearby the station. The last shreds of un-fulfillment (if any), was washed away when Sunil managed to repeat the rope-river-crossing here. With borrowing kid’s cycles and trying to cycle over water, Kishore trying to catch fishes and people taking pics, we never realized when it was time to return. It was a fully satiated group that boarded the train back to Hyderabad from Londa.

Now, for the highlights of the trek… Gopal being christened Pappu (@Gopal – change your callout name in Infy Telephone directory!), guess-the-personality games in train, fighting over sentry-duty slots (Praneeth missing one), conversing with monkeys on Dudhsagar station, the laughs and falls…I can’t list them all. There’s one person though, who deserves a mention, Sunil didn’t have to make us a tent there, he didn’t have to take us down, he didn’t have to hold the rope while we all crossed, he didn’t have to take us to Turvi…but he did all this and sometimes I wonder, what separates some people from others is this. @ Sunil: I’ll stand on the table (In your case a mountain or a boulder) and say ‘O Captain! My Captain!’(People who’ve watched ‘Dead Poet’s Society’ will get this).

The intro section made us remember the names of all 22 of us. I hardly knew anyone this time, there were just some five or six from previous treks, but now I’ll get some more smiles in passing, and perhaps at the end of the day, that’s all which matters.

Jog - Gokarna - Apsarakonda

The 'if only' conjectures stay with you after a certain misadventure. But in certain cases as in this trek, they were verily nullified by what-was-about-to-come. For me it was Hydventura -> Take 2.

This trek couldn't have started more ominously with the two of us missing the train and the then deliberating decision to take a cab and catch the train halfway. I didn't hesitate taking the cab; the hesitations came later...sitting in that cab with eyes alternating between speedometer and watch, it was more than once that I wished we hadn't come. It was a long night, without a wink of sleep, for us and ya, you all guys too, who kept on the correspondence with us via cell (but then that is because none out of 23 pulled the damn chain!). We missed Kurnool by 20 min (imagine that, after travelling at 90 mph for 3 hrs!). That morning, seeing the train arrive at Guntakkal (which was where we finally caught up) and the sight of familiar faces, stirred in me an emotion akin to homecoming. I was so happy and relieved that I wanted to cry and shout at once. I did none.

We reached Hubli in the morning and took a bus to Jog Falls. At the view point the sight of four cascading waterfalls - King, Queen, Roarer and Rocket, was definitely a treat to the eyes. There was a momentary disappointment, kept at abeyance though, of viewing the waterfalls from a distance. But of all the things the one thing I was sure was this: even if there wouldn't have been any steps to reach the bottom, these guys would have found some or other way to take us near it (Thank God for those steps, otherwise you never know!). This much I can vouch based on past experiences. And we did go to the very bottom of the falls. There at the base, the boulders were dangerous temptation-one we didn't resist. To me they appeared less of an obstacle and more of an invitation and we kept on crossing each one of those huge boulders till the farthest one, where from we could see the water hitting the earth. We raised our eyes, opening them with much difficulty to see all the way to the top. And I know no words or pictures would do justice to either the view or the feel of those cold waters hitting/lashing us.
One feels completely alive and numb at the same time. And there's this spirit within you which kinda demands liberation and that's the only reason or excuse I've for climbing up that last boulder. When it comes to Nature you allow the tour-de-force to 'take' you as if submission's the only way of worship.

Night halt in a Youth hostel (luxury) and a sumptuous banquet for dinner in the form of Butter Nan (alias chapatti) and Butter Chicken (alias Priya Cut-Mango Pickle) and/or Paneer Butter Masala (alias Priya Thoku Pickle). The orders kept on pouring and it’s kinda strange how we all loved that. There was Dumb charade after dinner, and I'm just refraining from writing the names of movies you gave us...

The trip to beach on 2nd day (till 2nd day it was still trip, considering the luxuries of accommodation and commuting) was no less uneventful. Walking past the Om beach, crossing rocks to reach a somewhat nearby can-be-called-island, it was adventurous. With high tides and strong current, the waves tried their level best to curb our advances, but we did manage to reach the island and back. Then trekked on wrong route all the way to Half-Moon beach via a forest path (not wearing shoes for this particular trek-path was perhaps the stupidest thing I did on this trip). We found a fresh water stream kinda thing here (the origin of which fortunately or unfortunately we didn't know). Spent time, memorable I can say with the sea claiming T-Shirts and Goggles and floaters. In the evening the Gokarna beach was witness to the amazing energy levels and the passion with which the guys played Kabbadi and Frisbee. And the water being cleaner than Om, we spent some quality beach time. More luxurious accommodation than the first night. And real Dal Makhani and Paneer and Chicken. Still a trip : ).

The third day we crossed limits of luxuriousness by being allowed to sleep till six (On treks we usually follow military timings-wake up call max by 4 am, hence luxury!). Anyways started for Murudeshwar Temple, famous for its 18 storied gopuram as well as the offering panorama of being surrounded by sea from three sides. I bet we were mighty disappointed when we'd to take the lift to the 18th floor instead of taking the stairs (we were supposed to be on trekking, remember!).Anyways the best part here was waiting for lunch and the way we all ate the annadana prasadam. Payasam, Rice, Rasam, sambar, curry – the food served was fuming hot with liquid to solid ratio of 3:1, and we half-ate/half-drank the condiments….What should I say, that I found it tasty. I know, I'm not speaking only for myself when I say that the meager lunch called for the expression - 'chala santosham'. Post Lunch our leader was all set to give us a real trekking experience...I'll tell you, he was really pissed off, hearing us call it a trip. So we headed to a place which was kept as surprise till we reached there, and then we started trekking the Apsarakonda Mountains. Now mark here, that there were steps to top, but we didn't take that (how can we, with Sunil and Arjit being there!!). Instead they found us another way, and we went along with - slipping, climbing mountain, bouldering...I did just one rock, but believe me it was worth it. The view from top was amazing...the golden-hued evening sky, the sound of sea and the extended coastline. One always fails to hide that awe before the magnificence of Nature.

I need an extra paragraph solely to write about Apsarakonda waterfalls. It was like the perfect end to what started with the Jog Falls. For the feel of ice cold water plummeting from that height, I have only one comparison, I've never had had such beating in my entire life. The waters literally hit us. It was like stones, and standing right under it, for a while I thought my glasses will break with the sheer force. Max enjoyment at this place, with swimmers giving lessons to non-swimmers and diving and plunging and what not. I can't compare Jog Falls and Apsarakonda Falls; they left us with two different and entirely satisfying feeling.

Sometimes I wonder why I go on treks. I don't go for adventure or the kicks or making new friends, these things are extras, to be taken along, as they come and go. I have found my reason. I go so that for a moment I can feel being part of something profound, like the vast sea or the mighty waterfalls or the deep forests.