TEARS OF ECSTASY, AUG-2012

                                                     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I closed my eyes on the early hours of 7/26/2011 after an unbelievable indulgence, for 2 unforgettable days, in the mind boggling ambience of monsoon drenched Agumbe, it was a sleep like never before. I forgot the entire world and slept with remnants of thoughts stolen from the depths of this tiny village to suppress the pain of being separated from her. And when I woke after that long sleep, it was only my mortal remains which mixed with the flow of routine life as my conscience lay glued to the bed wondering if this is really the kind of life I was created for to live through?? It wanted to go back but alas, my mortal remains didn’t yield and went on to answer the questions held ready by the modern society. 2012 has been a busy year, with lots of unpredicted happenings in both professional and personal life. Days have been demanding with responsibilities raining in and commitments curtailing any of my jaunt plans. I could hear the distant drum beats, expressly tuned for me by Mother Nature, but couldn’t follow the direction as routine life ruined my imagination. All I had was my priceless creativity, locked idle in the depths of my brain, to be unleashed when the SW Monsoon was well established over the Western Ghats for yet another season of mind disturbing events. IMD had made a speculative forecast for the 2012 season and the possible El-Nino in southern pacific only heightened my apprehensions over the success of this year’s edition. My state of mind and happiness was directly proportional to the intensity of rains in the west, between June and September, as I began to wonder if things would turn up positively. As June/1 hit the charts the entire nation was hooked to the western coast of Indian peninsula looking for the arrival for rain laden monsoon winds, which indeed failed to show up on time and my worst fears began to materialize. Past 4 days of breathless moments she made an official entry into the mainland but I wasn’t elated, for I knew there was something wrong occurring in the upper atmosphere. It has been the norm of my life, through out in the past, and when ever I mad elaborate plans for an activity it would be turned down by Mr. God and in this case, he stood his ground again. We met when she was at her gorgeous best in 2010 and fell in mad love, followed her through half the months of 2011 inscribing in my heart a special place for her and in 2012, she was to be seen no where. Her absence made me mad and I wandered the streets of my imaginary world looking for her, waiting for her, for ever. June/2012 would have been the month when Mr. God got the maximum missed calls as I relentlessly looked up at the distant skies for an answer, an answer that needed to be answered, an answer that could not be put on hold. But he didn’t answer as my Love, Agumbe, stood at 8^th place with 1366 MM of rainfall, for the period June/1-June/30/2012, in the all India ranking of places that received more than 1000 MM. It isn’t bad, but when I know the fact that she won the third place in 2011 with 1880 MM of downpour all I could do was sit cursing my luck. I kept quiet and spent my time in absolute loneliness as a month went by…I wasn’t bothered though…Then…I met her…my eyes were flooded…she took over…My conscience questioned - how powerful the natural world is??

We cry when we are broken, when our heart pains. We do cry when we are overwhelmed with “elation”, as our heart is twisted like a piece of wet cloth forcing the tears out. Very few people in our lives and very few places in this world have that “powerful” potential and in my world, there’s only one place with that Vigor. Welcome to Agumbe - a world where heavens are unfastened, where Gods walk on the street, where time is frozen, where nature is the master, where woman kill with innocence, where insurgency is exotic and where I lost my heart a year back. Past July/2011, my life was altered to a plane not reachable by an average brain and where everything that exists symbolizes beauty and God. The powerful energy driving this exotic existence is the mesmerizing south west monsoon, which arrives on time as a Swiss Train and which pours like a broken 1.5 million ltrs overhead tank. This year though, she played hide and seek without understanding how painful it would have been for people like me and a million others who are dependent on her for – a living, a change in their lives, rejuvenation and above anything else, sustaining the entire ecosystem. SW monsoon has been ravaging the east and the north eastern states for the past 1 month while her usual playground, the Western Ghats, remained conspicuously unaffected with just three months ahead before her official departure from the Indian mainland. Frustration levels were extremely high as I was wondering with annoyance what it would feel to millions who have paid their livelihood as a price, to ensure their survival through the remaining of the long year. Life in monsoon lands of India are completely influenced by the mighty rains and at the mercy of this yearly phenomenon, which also transforms this region from ordinary to astonishing during the priceless 4 months between June and September. A near failure like during this year also taught me how demanding life in these regions become, when she doesn’t arrive on time with sufficient volumes. Maybe I envied this geographical area beyond normal levels during the past two years and God is answering my quest but, I prayed to him, please pour. To a person sitting 700 Kms away from the core zone the pain was unbearable and it was only obvious to think, with fear, how hurting it would be to an inhabitant whose life revolves around this annual bounty. I felt like I was isolated, like thrown out, as I spent lonely hours looking for her arrival but, one man’s prayer wasn’t powerful enough and the skies glowed with heat and arrogance making me run for cover every time I went out looking for her, with hope. Riding on the advantage of an unusually high number of tropical cyclones in the Bay of Bengal during the month of June, the N.E states of India were thriving under a “recently never seen” kind of rains. But, the dry phase of MJO (Madden Julian Oscillation) was forecast to come to an end by the first week of July reviving the hope of millions, reviving the hope in the depths of my conscience. I prayed…I held to my hopes as a spider…then…she revived…she revealed herself with so much force that I couldn’t stand her beauty…all I could do was cry…until my eyes went dry…and those were the tears of ecstasy…the real joy of life, the real meaning of my existence…

The journey to Agumbe never seemed to materialize for the year 2012, as either my responsibilities curtailed the attempt nor my friends’, who had agreed to join for this Jaunt. It was a long struggle to get this through and as always, the doors opened unexpectedly when two of my friends, who had never went with me in the past, agreed to join this dream jaunt, a dream since July/2011. The evening of Aug/3/2012 was hot, unlike the previous year when Madras was wet and drenched, as I began the drive with Prakash, Aneesh and R.S.S in pursuit of “innocent indulgence” under pouring rains in the rain capital of southern India. Existing climatic condition didn’t give a positive projection of the things about to emerge the day next, as R.S.S withdrew his nomination from this already fragile trip on the grounds of “risky health”. Now we were just three and it only catapulted my thoughts to July/2011 when me, Dave and Gani.B were hit by the “out of this world ambience” of Agumbe. The night was dry and sultry as we hurried our way through the never ending national highways under the cover of darkness and it was only a matter of speculation if the day next will transform us to a plane that’s just away from the routine world. I drove with the same levels of concentration as during any of the other long distance Jaunts conserving energy, fuel and the interest to keep driving as the darkness of the moonless night began its meal of “My Stamina”. Couple of tea breaks couldn’t help either and a welcome halt came in the form of a fatal accident on the notorious NH7 when a sleepy truck driver crossed the road barrier and rammed his truck onto another one. 8 Kms of pile up instantly pinched my mind that, its going to be a risky affair ahead as inch by inch movement eroded my conserved endurance. An hour and a half later we were able to nail the accelerator as I hurried like a stoned dog towards the border of Karnataka when the biggest challenge to my endurance came in the form of 42 Kms NICE road, my biggest adversary when on a night drive. Nevertheless, I managed to conquer her w/o much fuss and entered the high speed world of the mighty NH4, a road which kills when we blink and entertains when we focus. At that point of time my only hope was the truck lay bay, a good 25 Kms from the NICE road terminal, and under the conditions we were driving even this meager distance made me cry for mercy. When we reached there both my friends were sleeping like “this was the last night” and I wondered, if this night would last forever as my immature mind was forcing me to curl in the seat. It was fabulously cold and we walked towards the tea vendor as I began to think – what it would have been like if I had been at home under the 2 ton air conditioner on the comfy couch without learning, the difficulty we were in would transform us to another world the day next. When we pulled back to the highway I was 100% sure I wasn’t the same as during any other drive and sleep seduced me like a half dressed woman with an intention to kill but, I didn’t want to end here…she was waiting for me…I had been waiting for her…and my friends wanted to see it for real what my love meant as I pushed the limits to keep going. There was a moment when I lost composure and ultimately, pulled to the side of the road and slept arrogantly till she graced my exhausted dreams…I woke up like a startled cat to begin the long drive and all I remember about that night were the sign boards which read Sira...it was dark then…Hiriyur…it was still dark…Chitradurga…daylight emerged…then…heaven’s opened up…tears rolled down within the depths…

I had never woken up (Irony) in any of my previous drives to such an exotic dawn. The Speedo meter was hovering around the 145 Kmph mark, the Tacho was comfortably nestled in the 3500 RPM region, the mighty NH4 was dull white in colour under the post dawn illumination, distant hills were hugged by dense clouds ready to pour, windmills above those hills fought hard to get themselves recognized and the temp at a comfortable 20’C as we slowly woke from our mad sleep to recognize the beauty existing everywhere, around us. We were a still good 200 Kms from Agumbe as I ripped past the town of Chitradurga through the big aggressive curve well protected from people and cattle by huge walls on either side. The morning was fabulously cold when we entered the left just at the exit of Chitradurga to climb over the romantic NH13, which connects Solapur in Maharashtra with Mangalore in Karnataka, and go through 100 Kms of isolated high speed fun. We had a break on the outskirts of this fort town and the gust was just unbearable to stand with heads held high as we quickly retreated back to the car and entered the high speed circuit in pursuit of Shivanmoga. I had driven over NH13 once in the past and it was under pre dawn darkness, now; I could read well her curves and lines and was mesmerized to learn such gorgeous national highways still exist in India (Photo 26). SW monsoon’s reluctant behavior this year reflected through the semi dry condition of the landscape all through the way from Chitradurga and it was a painful sight to see the sown farms waiting for the priceless rains. I began to pray hard and also to wonder if this trip of mine, to illustrate the power of Agumbe to my new set of friends, would go in ashes and never had the confidence that things would turn out my way as I was already nearing Shimoga, very fast. I forgot the power and Vigor of Agumbe despite the fact that its been just a year since my last visit and I also failed to remember how she made me cry all of a sudden with her unique beauty, that crops up unexpectedly once past the limits of Shimoga. The transition is mind boggling that it’s virtually impossible to define the boundaries of impending “Beauty” attack. Entered Shimoga at predicted time and she was, as always, a sort of unexplainable town with the ability to make anyone forget time and relax, just relax. I was now on the thresholds of fear as there were no signs of rainfall activity and if there was any clue to the rampage being executed by Mother Nature up there in the Ghats, it was none other than the raging Tunga in mud red colour. Now, I had every other reason to grin and held the steering more tightly to speed our way through to “His Majesty’s” foot and it was still a complicated transition as we crossed Shimoga and entered the road to Agumbe (Photo 2) as, rains began their ravaging romance and the ambience turned out to be electrifying. No where else in my life have I witnessed a transition in nature that separates “arid” from “evergreen” in a matter of few hundred meters and this only makes me question, is nature that powerful? Unable to comprehend, I just drove in pursuit of my dream which was to go through a couple of days of non stop soaking in the wild rains, in the untouched wilderness of Agumbe. Rains gained strength vigorously as a man sparked by an erotic woman and the wipers were rendered useless as the wind screen became translucent (Photo 13), overpowered by the downpour unique to this region. The entire beauty of this region was hidden by the massive downpour and we were as excited as during a honeymoon when the last major town, Thirthahalli, showed itself up. Then, it began – the “to be seen, to be believed” kind of a downpour as we hastened our efforts to buy an umbrella for each and settled inside a warm bakery with a cup of “very” hot coffee and some snack, as an extremely divinely girl emerged out of the temple on the other side of the road, unmindful of the heavenly downpour, and walked undisturbed with perfect composure towards the bus stop…we were watching with awe…unable to make a move through the rain…but yet again, nature came to the rescue as I looked up into the foggy sky to learn… none is more beautiful than her…her beauty is immortal…that would remain unconquered by the strongest of the men…Agumbe…she was just 30+ Kms away now…

A year back she rewrote my perceptions of life and now, as I entered the last mesmerizing stretch in pursuit of her, she only expanded the damage done a year back. What could I tell? What could I ask for? Spellbound, I drove under punishing rains over eroded roads to reach her as quickly as possible when nature was at its best moments. Visualize this – There’s 100% humidity in the air yet, u don’t feel annoyed as that air breezes over your face; there’s so much of moisture that even the smallest of dust speck is drenched to its fullest; as I roll down the powered windows the music created by the Cicadas are even more addictive and betters the Mozart but, when you extend your hearing beyond the Cicadas there’s an out of the world silence unique to the rainforests of Agumbe; occasional couples working on the lonely farms under pouring rains, unmindful of the elements, as fog engulfs them; roads as eroded as a violent coast line bordered by mysterious forests with no humans in the vicinity (Photo 20); tremendous intermittent downpour capable of washing away your lifetime sins; mist speeding its way through the canopy of the massive rainforest like a ghost in a film; days that appear as dusk all the time and the romantic mood associated with it and as a last word – lift your hands in prayer for it’s the only offer we could pay back to mother nature for this bounty. I agree I couldn’t find as much words or statements like in my 2011 travelogue on Agumbe for I poured my entire emotions into that posting and this time around, I was more focused on conquering her depths rather than going rave about her superficial beauty. When I entered this tantalizing village the second time, I instantly floated back in time for a comparision and she only bettered the first attempt. The rains were more heavier this time, but not as incessant as during the previous year though, and we instantly geared up for that much planned trek to the top of the Onake Abbi falls through the vast sea of leeches (Locals claim the route to Onake Abbi has more leeches than the ones leading to Barkana or Jogi, both located near Agumbe). In 2011 we abandoned our attempt to reach Onake Abbi (OA) for we didn’t have a guide back then and the entrance to this mighty fall itself was as intimidating as an unexplored cave under pouring rains. Now, armed with generous volumes of castor oil, Snuff (Tobacco Powder) and Adidas body spray we ventured into the dense foliage filled path leading to the “point of fall” of OA. My previous experience of trekking to Barkana under torrential downpour came handy as I considered this trek as child’s play until, a leech was noticed on one my friend’s shirt well above his waist. Though this route was easy on the terrain, leeches were rampant and we lost the battle early as no amount of whatever I had mentioned above proved useful to deter them. But I wasn’t annoyed as during the first time and continued the trek, well aware they were all over my feet, with occasional spray of deodorant. The massive canopy protected us from the onslaught of the heavy downpour and we did a good job by reaching the intended location in about 40 minutes. Here begins the drama, as OA plunges hundreds of feet down into the Someshwar Wild life Sanctuary in the neighboring Udupi district from the Agumbe Ghats in Shimoga. One mistake you make in Shimoga and your lifeless body would be, if lucky, recovered from Udupi as the torrential downpour combined with altitude induced gust made this place the wildest and most dangerous ever to be visited by us. Though a visit post November would be more rewarding with a mouth watering view of the entire falls reaching the bottom and flowing through the dense Someshwar sanctuary, we planned this hike under the peak of monsoons to experience the out of this world wilderness. The gust was so powerful that most of the water falling down was thrown back to the top and consequently, it was only a matter of seconds before we were drenched along with the camera. Add to this the massive rains and after some struggle, all I could manage of the mighty Onake Abbi was this shot (Photo 10) as she rumbled her way down through the opaque fog filled valley averting the best of our attempts to capture her in full glory. It was a moment in our time as we cherished the ambience to the fullest unmindful of the impending dusk, continuing downpour or the leeches having the best buffet in their recent times. When we reached back the village after 120 minutes of dangerous indulgence, our perception of “Real Challenge” was re-defined…for ever…

There’s a place in Agumbe which provides asylum to those who had undergone a massive nature attack in its peak wilderness. There’s a place where the entire rainforests of Agumbe converge and give way to hectares of green meadows (Photo 7) and it’s where we decided to relax under the still pouring rains. A small violent stream was identified where we washed our legs painstakingly with shampoo to remove the greasy effect of castor oil and then, it was once in a lifetime indulgence as we had a snack consisting of Buns and Jack fruit chips when mist wrecked havoc over the endless meadows. To be honest, I could clearly define this place as “close” to heaven for there were no words to better describe it. In 2011 I had went past this place while on a trek to Barkana but then, I was made to run by punishing rains and the fear induced by first time encounter with Leech Bros. Darkness was approaching fast and I very well knew from my past experience what rains were like after dusk in Agumbe – It resembled a war zone. Hastened our way back to the village and had a cup of hot tea in a remote shop as there was a grave yard like silence spreading through this village set amidst the densest of rainforests. Unable to comprehend, we walked back to our lodge to change the drenched clothes and indulge in a romantic dinner. There’s a very basic eat-out in Agumbe that has no electric power and during the day it’s lit by the couple of transparent roof tiles made of glass and in the night, by candles. I had always loved to eat their tasty home made food sitting within the dark confines of wet walls, when rains were at their ravaging best outside. To add to the romance, entire Agumbe was drenched in darkness and no body had the answer for when the power would be restored. Though I wasn’t bothered, we desperately wanted the power to be restored back for a night of comfortable sleep as it was more than 24 Hrs since I closed the eyes for a nap. Thankfully, the EB guys took painstaking efforts to restore power and there was a big relief among the entire gathering around the only hotel in Agumbe’s bus depot. The rains were missing and the grave yard like silence heightened my apprehensions of what was about to come as the mists continued their rampage with no let-up rendering visibility to near Zero. We went for a walk through the near zero visibility conditions to that remote eat-out on the back yard of Agumbe for a cup of tea and talk about the day that went by. The mists were as dense as inside a pressure cooker and the silence, as quiet as a deaf man’s ear. I was beginning to get suspicious of nature’s intention and when back at the lodge for a demanding sleep, I knew how the morning was going to be. God, I never have seen such a downpour when we woke up the next morning and went for a stroll with umbrellas under it for a romantic cup of tea. It poured like it was end of the world and God was in a hurry to empty the clouds, as we trekked to Jogi falls to see how angry she was. Indeed she was thrice as angry as during the previous year and despite her small stature, it was threatening to try get near her. After an hour of getting drenched in the wild rains, it was time to turn humane and refresh ourselves with a warm bath and a hot drink. Very quickly we retreated back to the lodge and geared up for the long 765 Kms drive through the mind disturbing towns of Sringeri, Jayapura and Chikmagalur under life threatening rains and yet again, the magical Malnad region pinched my eyes to shed tears. This was the first time I had adopted this route and the countryside around these towns were powerful enough to establish a life time nostalgia. When we emerged out on the plains at Hassan, I didn’t have 100% satisfaction and some sort of vacuum existed between my mind and the memoirs from Agumbe. She now seemed not too far away from me and I had the confidence of visiting her alone, the next time, as I fell on bed back at home for a thoughtless sleep. When I woke up that evening and checked out the status of rains in the Malnad region and Coastal Karnataka, it was startling to learn the rains had wrecked havoc and will continue to do so for the next few weeks as the situation turned from wet to wettest, in a matter of 2 days. I couldn’t hold on and there was no reason or responsibility that could prevent me from driving to the west coast, the second time, in as many weeks. I geared up for the long journey towards enlightenment and this time around, I decided to cross over the Western Ghats and emerge on the west coast, to redefine my thought process and creativity. Despite the fact that I didn’t have any friend to accompany this second drive, except my long time companion Mr. Dave, we both decided to move ahead and check what Mr. God had in store for us, on the other side of Ghats…and when we looked at his Majesty’s “Living Room”…we were instantly humbled to ashes and forced to accept, both our lives were already rendered meaningless for not being born here…on the virgin lands…West of Western Ghats…

We had been planning for a long time to drive to Dudh Sagur (DSR) in eastern Goa and decided this was right time to do so, as me and Dave kicked off a late night drive to India’s second highest single drop falls “Jog” after a tired day in the office. The plan was to get enchanted at Jog, cross over the Ghats and descend towards the west coast over the mesmerizing NH206 to reach Honnavar, drive over the mind blowing NH17 for a night halt at Karwar and the day next, catch up with DSR (The Dudh Sagur portion will be released through a separate Blog posting). In the past we had made many such plans and have always ended up in miserable failures of not getting them executed successfully. Before embarking on the 2200 Kms drive, with just one for company, I was thinking sensibly if it was possible to overcome the endurance fear and execute this jaunt. While I was waiting for Mr. Dave the mind was talking with my conscience – You have 12+ years of night driving experience now and 6+ years of them around the Western Ghats; You are a 30 year old man, have seen them all and could identify the perils; you have the self control to not exceed the thresholds of any kind of life threatening indulgence; you have all the legal documents then; the heart took over – You have 51 liters of high octane fuel under the chassis, an efficient and high revving 1.6 L gasoline engine that rewards with 16 Kms/L with no let up in performance, a heart that jumps with extreme joy at the sight of the Ghats, 2200 Kms of national/ state highways, torrential downpours and thick chunks of fog to drive through and then; David arrived – I kicked off the drive with no second thought as we both disappeared into the diesel odour filled darkness of the NH4. It has been just a fortnight since my last drive over NH 13 and here she was before me, yet again, to take us both to the land of “Impeccable timelessness” as dawn was slowly emerging over the fort town of Chitradurga. We reached Shimoga at a very decent 8:30 AM despite a very late start back in Chennai and this was the fastest I had ever managed to conquer those 670 Kms. Memoirs ruled my mind when we checked into Hotel Soorya, as this was the same place where I spent priceless moments with 3 of my best friends way back in 2010 when heavens were rendered open wide and loud. This time around we were just 2, there weren’t enough rains, the streets were quiet, we both weren’t as carefree as 2 years back, we were curt in our actions but; the results that were about to be produced was just mind blowing. We had improved the skills that even lack of rains couldn’t deter our efforts to script a beautiful photo essay on this nostalgic region that would be thrice as beautiful as our previous attempt. Hugged NH206 as a loving Hussy and drove in pursuit of enchantment, which was 110 Kms away, through the conscience hurting villages of Kumsi and Sagara. Just as in Agumbe once past the town limits of Shimoga, rains were pouring at their will and the drenched reserve forests on either side of NH206 induced a romantic lust. We had sufficient time on reserve and wanted to check out the neighboring Unchalli falls in the Uttar Kannada district near Sirsi. We took the ghostly road deviation at the exit of Talaguppa towards Sidapura, and these small villages just ripped my heart apart with their beauty, seclusion and landscapes. The intermittent heavy rains and quick loss in daylight made us retreat from our attempt to reach Unchalli and pushed us back on the road to Jog, a highly commercialized, second highest plunge falls of India (Tallest single drop falls in India is Nohkalikai, Meghalaya) . So, is it possible to attain enchantment at a place which is thronged by thousands and where there is commercial intention at every corner you turn into? Buddy, nature is so powerful that it can wipe out the entire human race in one minor event and these close to 1000 people had no chance of spoiling our devotion. Jog is so raw, so big in size that humans don’t stand a chance against its massive personality. They could just stand, open their mouth wide and stare at the massive plunge of Sharavathi River on its way to the Arabian Sea. I agree, humans have conquered the real power of Sharavathi by constructing the Linganamakki dam and which now controls the intensity at Jog but, even that would be overcome by the more powerful elements of nature. We stood at the edge of the cliff from where Sharavathi plunged down for more than 250 Mts in her quest to reach the western shore through the extremely dense, impenetrable forests of Western Ghats. I was mesmerized; tear ridden by her beauty (Photos 1,4,5,17,19,25,28,36 and 40), as I drove back to Shimoga in pursuit of a “larger than life dreams” filled sleep. The day next?? It was a day that cleaved my heart with its razor sharp beauty as me and Dave climbed up and down the Western Ghats through untouched virginity in pursuit of Dudh Sagur falls in Goa. The report on this section of the drive would follow in the coming month as a separate posting. Believe me, beyond Jog there’s a world that’s out of this world and wouldn’t fit into the best of the narrations by the most experienced of the travel journalists (Iam not releasing any of their photos in this posting or the forthcoming one on Dudh Sagur and will be did so in a separate, intimate photo essay am creating over the past 1 year). I exceeded my physical and economic limitations to complete these two massive Jaunts but – The pure air I breathed, the clean water I bathed in, the views which grazed my eyes, the rains that drenched my heart, the untouched lands I walked over, the native food I enjoyed, the heavenly sleep during those three nights, the Malnad women who disturbed my thoughts, the best moments of nature inscribed in my mind, the stories I collected to tell my children, the experiences I acquired, the endurance and mental strength which I gained, the roads I drove through – Priceless. As before, I wouldn’t want to say Iam concluding with this travelogue but, a small break to refresh my creativity and to sit in a corner and think if I had did justice to her beauty through my words and photo shots. Even if I conclude I had done more than my share, my Journey to these lands and my search wouldn’t end. Someday, I may never return from there to narrate my experiences…and then it could mean…Iam consumed by her…

Parameters

Route–Chennai-Vellore-Hosur-Bangalore-Tumkur-Chitradurga-Shimoga-Thirthahalli-Agumbe-Sringeri-Jayapura-Kadabagere-Aldoor-Chikmagalur-Hassan-Bangalore-Chennai-Vellore-Hosur-Bangalore-Tumkur-Chitradurga-Shimoga-Kumsi-Sagara-Talaguppa-Jog.

Best Time to Visit – When it pours, July and August.

Specialties – ability to redefine your perceptions on life.

What you should do – identify small villages on map and drive through them, stop your car at a remote location and sit over the vast meadows for an hour, start early for any of the waterfalls trek as natural elements will slow down your attempt, go early to bed and enjoy that cold unbothered sleep for atleast 10 hours, avoid liquor as your mind will undergo massive transformation with the natural views available, a cup of hot tea under the umbrella as it pours torrentially, experiment with leeches, walk as much possible, exercise extreme caution when you stand at the edge of Jog and Onake Abbi falls.

Don’t Forget – An umbrella for every member, gumboots, castor oil, snuff and deodorant for trekking in Agumbe, to hire a native for trekking in Agumbe even if you have trekked those paths and know them as the back of your palm, to drive through the NH206 under pouring rain, to view Jog at the place where she falls and from the opposite cliff for a frontal view, to spend a quite time at dusk with a cup of hot drink and review your photos/memories.