AWOL Clouds

Skandagiri.

Fashionably late, we piled into Dillu's Safari and, stopping only to pick up supplies enough for an army to march on, we drove to Chikkaballapur and the temple at the base of Kalwarbetta. It took just a couple of hours to follow the moonlit path up to the top of the hill and the remnants one of Tipu Sultan's forts.

It was a quiet night on the hill as we ate our tuna, turkey, chicken, cheese, cucumber and tomato filled sandwiches. With sated belly, I collapsed and let the old light from Orion, Taurus and Cassiopeia impinge on my retina. A couple of hours of stargazing later, I ducked out of the chilly breeze into the tent and pretended that rocks make good mattresses. My snoring soon announced the success of the sandman.

My repose was unkindly intruded upon by a screaming horde of invading Huns. Wait, perhaps they were a troupe of monkeys leaping from rock to rock in the moonlight. Or maybe I had fallen asleep in a fish market. My sleep confused mind struggled with these possibilities and came to the conclusion that I was actually in a stress-induced nightmare. And I slept.

I awoke as the sky turned from black to indigo and scrambled out of the tent. Whoa! The nightmare was still there! Then, with the day, realization dawned. The clouds that were to greet me were AWOL. Instead there was a TV9 crew shooting the loudly chattering crowd of people that had gathered to watch the sun rise.

At least the sun didn't disappoint, and I watched the miracle of day unfold before me.

Bridges and Tunnels

Yedakumari.

Five years ago, we had trekked along this unused railway track that wound its way through tunnels and over bridges in the Western Ghats from Donigal to Edukumeri. The plan had been to spend the night at the railway station and trek onward to Kukke Subramanya, but exhaustion got the better of a couple of us, and we had hitched a ride back to civilisation and come back to Bangalore. A feeling of incompleteness has nagged me ever since, especially since someone told me that the trek beyond Edukumeri is far more scenic.

And so I set off again with tent and sleeping bag and enthusiastic company. The Mangalore KSRTC bus dropped us at Manjarabad Fort in a chaotic deadlock of vehicles at 5:30 am. It was four kilometres on the tarmac before we found the path onto the tracks. From there, the just past monsoon ensured that the "green route" lived up to its name. The flowering grasses waving in the breeze and screeching Racket-tailed Drongos accompanied us on the eighteen kilometres from there to the station at Edukumeri. The grass seeds attracted many Black-throated Munias. Noticeably missing were the thousands of bats that had lived in the thirty-five tunnels the last time I walked the track - yes, the same ones that had pissed on us - what a waste of the cap I bought to shelter my head from the unwanted conditioning! The butterflies were present in large numbers - Common Bluebottles, Lemon Pansies, Chocolate Pansies, Eggflies, Common Lascars, Common Sailers, Blue Mormons, Southern Birdwings were the ones I could identify. A few goods trains passed languidly by giving us ample time to get out of the way. Just a little before Yedakumari, we decided to cool our heels, literally, in one of the many streams that cross below the tracks. Then, as we picked up our tired bodies to make the final push towards our destination for the day, I spotted a scaly pattern on one of the rocks. The beautiful Malabar Pit Viper made our day, posing unmoving as we took our photographs.

I was surprised to see the station sign saying Yedakumari and not Edukumeri. I tried to translate it into English, and what I got amused me plenty: Yeda Kumari = Mad Maiden. I wonder what it really means though. The blogs had warned us that we would not be allowed to pitch tent at the station, so we hiked on looking for a spot to camp for the night. We had spent twelve hours on our feet when we finally settled down near a stream next to our tent with jam, cheese and bread. I must admit, it wasn't the most comfortable night I've ever spent. The pebbles beneath the tent made my fidgety sleeping quite painful. Still, it was a pretty night with stars peeking through the strangler fig under which we slept.

Scarlet minivets watched as I brushed my teeth in the stream in the morning. The Malabar Whistling Thrushes sang their happy songs and bright Yellow-browed bulbuls picked the fruit from the trees above.

The linesmen on the tracks had given us a target of the 80/400 marker as the spot from which we should turn off the railway line onto the forest path that would take us to Gundiya and a bus back to Bangalore. Armed with this information, which turned out to be 300 metres off, we set off knowing that we would have plenty of time to make our destination over the remaining bridges. To our right, for this entire stretch was a magnificent view of the shola forests of the western ghats. I spent much time wondering if one of the hills was Kumaraparvatha which is said to be the toughest trek in Karnataka. I will find out some day.

With a little difficulty, we found the path down to Gundiya, marked by some helpful soul in the moss with a stick - "GUNDY ->", and down we went. A sweaty, oily, uncouth, vest-clad trekker passed us by and turned around to ask me where I'm from and was extremely disappointed to hear "Bangalore". The group he was walking with made their noisy way past us, destroying many plants along the way. A little further, he turned around and asked if I had a lighter or matches - to light a fire! And then a little further, he came back to say, "Do you have some food? We're all very hungry. We have money but didn't find any shops." What I thought of this intrusion has been censored! Anyway, this caused us to take a detour which led to us getting a few leech bites (just one for me) and a far more interesting walk through the forest down to the town.

The buses to Bangalore were packed and we exhaustedly stood the three hours to Hassan before we got seats.

Here's some information that would have made the trek a little less interesting:

1. Take the 11:15 pm bus heading to Mangalore from Bangalore and request to get off approximately 4 kilometres after Donigal. If the conductor doesn't agree to that, then Donigal/Manjarabad Fort is the place to get off (usually some time between 4:30 am and 5:30 am). It may not be possible to book tickets to Donigal, so Uppinangadi should do.

2. The trains are not a problem. And no one tries to stop you from trekking on the track.

3. Definitely carry a torch. We switched off the torches in the middle of one of the tunnels and I couldn't see my palm 2 inches from my face (and people will tell you that I practically glow in the dark!)

4. You get on the track around the 50/400 marker and Yedamukari is just past the 68km mark. The turn off to Gundiya is at the 80/100 marker just after tunnel no. 35 and just before a bridge.

And so, five years in the doing, it is done.