Lost in the Clouds

Trek to Mullayangiri and Bababudangiri (Jun 23-24 2007)

Rising clouds, near opaque mists, treacherous trails, steep climb, lashing rains, sprinkle of cascades, a (overpowering) dash of mighty wind and a team of 20 adventurous trekkers! This was the perfect recipe for a trek to the highest peak in Karnataka.

After two meetings and a checklist with detailed instruction on what to carry and how to pack our bags, the Adventura members were looking forward to this thrilling trek. Among us were some seasoned travelers to lead the way. We set out on the night of 22nd June. Our team was in need of a good night's rest for the day ahead. However, we did not manage the rest, lodged as we were between the crevices, stacks of backpacks, sleeping mats and our trekking gear made. It all added to the flavor of the journey.

We reached Sarpa Dhaari by 6 AM on Saturday, sleep deprived yet raring to make the trek. To protect us from the downpour, we put on rain jackets, polythene bags over our socks and caps. Sandwiched between Experienced trekkers we made a move, daring the heights and leeches that lay low, waiting for prey!

Our ranks were peppered by other veteran trekkers who would keep an eye out for beginners and lend a hand, when the going got tough. A colleague, who knows the Chikmagalur district well, was our 'local guide'.

Jokes, encouragement, anecdotes abounded...as we made our way up the mountain. Those who were scared of heights, made it a point not to look down They did not even look ahead! They just followed in the footsteps of the person in front, all the while praying they would be able to live through it.
Easily 'portable' people held on to anything that was within an arm's distance - branches, rocks, and help from fellow travelers, something that wouldn't let the wind carry them away!
Among us were an environmentalist (who was quick to point out any insect or wild flower to us), story tellers, 'beginners', pros. It was a perfect mix.

The team reached the peak (6400 ft) by 10.30 A M, all drenched and shivering. A family at the top (who took care of the temple) gracefully offered us tea and space to stretch our tired legs. We prepared jam/cheese sandwiches, and had savories. It all tasted heavenly! The resident cat had a gala time with the milling visitors. Looking for food, she accidentally bit one of us. A scream followed, and then startled jumps and more anarchy! We spent around an hour at the peak and started our trek towards Bababudangiri. This leg of our trek required that we cross around 5 hills and some ridges. Meanwhile the rain and the violent gusts refused to relent. It was an adventure of sorts. Our leads would go looking for negotiable trails and we would follow, slow but steady and brave.

We reached a point where we could see the road below. The first instinct was - 'We've had enough, let’s get to something that looks more human, and less frightening. If there is a road, humans have definitely been there and the path would be hospitable!’ It felt comforting to sight something familiar. But we got the better of that urge and kept walking.

A little patch of sunshine far away, clouds rising as if from a great fire somewhere in the valley, rolling hillocks that disappeared in the mist at the horizon, and a platform to span and admire the view dreams are made of. We had some savories and ‘thepla’ at this stop. It was around 2.30 in the afternoon. I may not be very accurate with time, because I had lost count of pretty much everything including the cramps in my legs and the weight of the soggy backpack, or the scratches and bruises. It was quite true for everybody; the numbness had made us comfortable. All this added to the thrill of the adventure and we enthusiastically clicked pictures the moment clouds gave way to a few beams of sunshine.

At this point the team split into two. Some were too tired to continue on the treacherous route to Bababudangiri where we had initially planned to stay. They took a bus to the destination while twelve of us moved on.
The trek was mostly on steep ridges with the wind screaming in our ears. Looking down we could feel how small we were against the forces we were battling, and had we missed a single step, we would have been thrown off the ridge into the valley.
One of us very rightly commented "There was no room for error". Despite the threat we passed the camera around, posing for pictures with stunts precariously perched on the rocks. We went on, bracing the wind, leaning on jutting rocks, crawling through crevices. It was 4 by the time we reached a spot where one of us unfortunately got hurt. The evening was approaching fast; we were exposed on all sides, with no shelter. It would be dark soon and we had quite a few ridges to cross before we reached Bababudangiri. We sat down to decide whether we should move forward on a trail we did not know yet, or go back before it gets dark and we get stranded on the ridge. We decided on the latter course which was wise. After a futile attempt at calling a few emergency numbers, seven of the twelve went ahead to look for alternate shorter routes to the road below. We started on the trek backwards.

By 6.30PM we were back where we started for the 2nd peak and weren't we relieved to be on safe ground surrounded by a concrete structure with walls. Our bus came and took us to Bababudangiri, among very worried friends, who had reached before us. After a round of tea and warm smoldering coals near our feet, we set out for Chikmagalur. We made a trip to the hospital and then searched for a place to stay. We warmed our ready to eat dinner which vanished the moment it was deposited in the temporary serving dish. It was a luxury to be in rooms away from the rain and the wind, having warm dinner and chocolates over good friendly chat.

We slept like logs despite the nightmares of towering rocks, and falling off the hills.

The next morning greeted us with a promise of better weather. Gathering to chat over hot tea and savories, we discussed the passing of the previous day. The newspaper revealed what fate we had escaped while on our trek. We came to know later that the wind speed had been around 150kms/hr. And our 'guide' colleague very kindly withheld some information from us until we returned safely to Bangalore. It was to the effect:

1) 6 inches of rain...
2) 40 trees fell down in his uncle's estate alone
3) All schools closed down in Coorg.
4) 5 people died in Hassan and Chikmagalur due to rains.

We then visited Bellur where we read statues in the Keshava temple built by the Hoysala dynasty. Every sculpture had a story behind it. It was fascinating to hear tales behind the numerous little gods, goddesses, their incarnations, dancing girls, animals and birds from our guide who was pretty good at his job with funny folklores by the score.

After lunch we went to Saravanabellagolla and climbed the 600 odd steps to the hill top. We went to the serene temple of Bahubali. It is a monolithic statue and the calm of the place worked well on our tired nerves and put some life back into us. After a stint at amateur rock climbing (missed all the footholds, bruised my knees), helped by one of the sure-footed guys in our team, I finally conquered a rock that was not more than 2.5 meters in height!

Candies, drizzle, inviting wind and coconut water marked the last leg of our journey and we got back into the bus towards Bangalore.

The star attractions of the trip:
1. No stray remark was left uncommented in the funniest way one can imagine.
2. It was great to be a part of a jolly pack of trekkers, who sang, and joked after two tiring days filled with excitement.
3. Sardar jokes and silly songs never left us with a dull moment.
4. We came away without being food for leeches.

We were back in Bangalore by 11 in the night for a day at work on the morrow. Sorry that the trip was over, and looking forward to making another trek, another adventure, another day very soon.

Slow Learner

A slow learner - yeah that's me. But once I learn a lesson its learnt for life. Give me a math problem to work out, teach me the principles of physics or a chemical reaction, or ask me to write a bit of a computer code, ask me the capital of Zanzibar, or ask me to trust anyone, I can do it pretty quick, but ask me to remove my (Virtual)-glasses and see what disaster is staring me in the face, I would take forever to back off.

Things can never be bad...People are just so good and nice and kind and well mannered, and stand by what they ( pretend to ) say. Anyways, they can't be blamed. Different people are different(very different - so different you sometimes wish you wouldn't have met a particular variety). By the time you think you have understood a particular species, they present to your venerable self a personality trait, you never would have imagined existed on this planet!!! Now who's fault is that? Of course yours! You should have been more perceptive, more judgmental, should have opened your eyes a bit wider, learnt to be shrewd and jealous and bad and. You just had to pay more attention in your geography and biology lessons. Surely that trait would have existed somewhere.

All your fault!

And there you were trying to be a martyr for a social cause! You were close to being knighted and earning a medal posthumous! The cause turned out to be just so 'not a cause'. Its funny. I can still picture you waging a war, sword weighing down the pretty little fist and the mare you mounted going pretty insane! And waging a war against your own clan to defend a cause that was not actually a cause! And then your clan being won over. I just can't figure out, what devilry or angelic enchantments were employed to lead the poor soldiers on.

Anyways...my stories never will end. What I meant to do here is pen down a few more lessons from my treacherous life:
1. Don't ever, never ever go where you are not wanted!
2. Don't be a fool.
3. Dont trust anyone. Anyone means absolutely ANYONE.
4. Dont trust especially those, whom you grow to trust more than yourself. They turn out to be the unworthy of your trust than you can spell trust.
5. Everyone has a story(I was accused repeatedly of having a story, so much so, that I stopped reacting, which somehow led people to believe I actually had a story and they used it to their means - Glad, my humble self was of service to someone). Now I am proud to say, I have one nice little story of my own and I wish I had written it in pencil(I have quite a few spare erasors, that I haven't used since I fininished school)