2 days, 2200 Kms, just 2 of us but, lot to see, lot to
tire, lot to awe at, lot to drive through and lot to bring back as memoirs. I
had been yearning to mark this destination on my “have seen” list for a very
long time but, her distance from my home, the cost involved and the reluctance
of my friends proved a big challenge in converting this dream. I understand from my past experience; long
planned, difficult to get through challenges materialize through a split second
change of mind set-up and that’s how me and Dave succeeded in etching yet
another beautiful memory to the depths of our mind. Close to the heart memories
seldom get recorded in the pages of our life the way we wish rather, they occur
in the most undesirable manner. I had always dreamt of executing this Jaunt
with atleast three of my close friends; for this long trip had that much needed
space, ambience, distance and time to forge life time bliss. Alas, I was
forced to kick off the 2 x 1000 + Kms of drive on a tense, exhausted night with
only my long time friend Mr. Dave for company, nevertheless, I felt relieved
for there was always certain uncertainty prevailing around this “eye opening”
drive to my favorite place, the Western Ghats and; even beyond that into a new
world – a world that had existed for millions of years and about which I had
never learnt about. The final
destination though, was in contrast to my life style for it is never known to
the outer world for its mind boggling wilderness, never for its fear inducing
country side, never for its punishing roads, never for its Manganese mines –
welcome to Goa – a land where sun never sets. Everyone knows Goa as the fun
capital of India,
where beaches are studded with Bars and roads are filled with tourists. But I never have, through my entire life, had
an affiliation towards “Modern” tourism and have always been attracted by old
world charm and more so, by the raw unadulterated pristine environments. I
have strained my body and mind in pursuit of such “difficult to reach” places
and moments and these have tuned my body and mind to align with the natural
world order, an order ignored and not looked at by the emerging generation.
Now, yet again, I was driving with one of my like minded friend’s to restore
that order, atleast in my personal life, and go to grave with the content of having
illustrated her beauty to the tiny world around me. Despite the long extended
day in office I was determined to do a non stop drive upto my favorite coffee
day (CD) outlet 310 Kms away, 40 Kms
before the NICE road junction. This attempt was an eye opener as, despite the
very average speeds I retained, we arrived alarmingly early at our destination
and forged hard in my driving dictionary that; speed doesn’t matter as much as
endurance and consistency does. As we were sitting on the comfy couch inside
the CD and chalking out our plans for
the next 4 days, I never gained the confidence to reach Goa
as the distance and loneliness made a “Cat on the Wall” out of me. We
derived a “Step by Step” approach to kill the lonely distance ahead, as we
rejoined the busy NH7 in pursuit of our favorite hang out in the entire region
of Malnad, the seducing Shimoga. We planned to stop over at Shimoga for a
day/night, drive through the entire second day from there to Karwar and in the
process meet Mr. God before spending a night in the nostalgic coastal town and
on the third day, drive to our “secret destination” hidden in the dense forests
of Eastern Goa. With a clear plan, lightened mind, heavy heart and a tank full
of fuel, I pressed the accelerator to gain momentum and reach the place that saw four of the best friends spend one of the
priceless moments of their lives 2 years back…with 2 from that four being me
and Mr. Dave…driving now under the cover of a monsoon influenced darkness…
When we reached Shimoga there was a temporary shock
awaiting us in the form of “non availability of rooms” in our favorite hotel
Jewel Rock, and this was the first time ever we had faced such a situation in
any of our Jaunts. Thankfully, our nostalgic accommodation provider Hotel
Soorya had sufficient rooms to allow us in and we instantly occupied a dark,
air conditioned room that didn’t have an access to the outer world with walls
in all directions. It was cold and dark,
conducive to the million dollar Malnad ambience as I closed my eyes for few
minutes to think again if I could meet her – if I could get near her – if I
could feel her – if I could inhale her – if I could get wet with her; before my
coffee arrived. The distance was still too far considering the financial
situation we were in, and we were just two to challenge the circumstances on
the way that could crop up without notification. Forgetting the day next,
we embarked on NH206 in pursuit of Malnad countryside and the mighty Jog (For
more details on Jog, pls refer to my previous posting – “Tears of Ecstasy”) as
a warm up to bigger the plans we had chalked out. Once upon a time Jog used to be a distant dream but now, it seemed to
be a hang out in the street next as our continuous visit to Malnad had
“artificially” reduced the distances from Madras.
We wandered through unknown roads, unheard villages and unseen landscapes
before breaking down over her beauty. I stood still and looked in all
directions for flaws, but in vain; as she smiled at me with inherent
arrogance that could be admired. Later that evening we spent one of the
most beautiful moments of our life as Fog engulfed Jog and her roar with
occasional emergence from the dark was worth more than any amounts of cocaine.
The rains were pouring with no let up as we stood at the edge of Jog and waited
infinitely for the fog to clear but, it didn’t. Sensing she was in a violent
mood I understood it’s a matter of patience and it was not the right time to
wait, as we pulled out of the Ghat section when
romantic darkness began to spread across the magical land of Malnad.
Way back in 2010 NH206 was battered by the rains but now, it was freshly laid
out as good as the Monza F1 circuit and driving back to Shimoga through the
mind boggling 110 Kms under torrential rain, Xenon defeating darkness and high
speed traffic was like piloting an aircraft with technological guidance. The
bright white and yellow lines were the only hint of where the road was leading
to, as the adrenaline was pumped in excess when ever there was a moment of
“threat to life”. One thing that I love to Indulge in Shimoga is the late
night hang out in my favorite restaurant with bottles of Breezer and a head
full of memories as the rain torments
the outer world relentlessly. I don’t talk much then, no matter the number of
friends, but keep looking through the window at her violent assault with a sort
of consciousness eroding addiction. Occasionally, I was asking Mr. Dave if
we could really make it the day next, if we could divert the plan or if we
should keep going…but with no answers. Questions with no answers are more
interesting than ones with ready solution, and I kept asking myself until a
spill of Breezer drenched my shoulder under fatigue induced sleep. I smelt
liquor now and got more wild fighting fatigue, when the mind was already in a deep sleep but Ego was trying hard to
prove not. Sleeping through a Malnad night is an event and to do so during the
monsoons is a gift, as I submerged completely under the big, thick white blanket
to enjoy those unexplainable dreams for the next 10 hours or so. That
night, I remember like I was sleeping in a place that’s accessible to a human
post death – it was pristine, seamless transitions everywhere, no noise, no
imperfections and a white bloom all around. When I woke up the next morning, it
was like walking out of my mysterious dream to see it occur…Shivanmoga was
calm, foggy and cold with extremely mild drizzle…good enough to force me in the
direction of my original plan…good
enough to push us up the Ghats and emerge on the other side…west of western
Ghats…the first time ever in my entire life…as we bid bye to this seducing
town and returned back to the NH206 to pierce through the mountains…
Past Jog
Falls it’s a different
world in all aspects, like life changes from nothing to everything in a night,
as the natural beauty forces anyone passing through this section to stop often
to get down from the vehicle and believe she’s what she appears to be. Few
kilometers from Jog there’s a forest Check post and this happens to be the last
place where you could ask for directions before you reach Gersoppa, a remote
hydro project mid way between Jog and Honnavar on the west coast. Me and Dave
were apprehensive of the road conditions beyond this check post for roads tend
to deteriorate after a major tourist landmark, even when it may be a national
highway. But, but…it didn’t and rather it gained immense beauty within the next
few kilometers and we were already surrounded by the dangerous wilderness of Western
Ghats as the tedious journey of climbing over her began. I have never felt so isolated from the outer world (Photo 23) than during this drive from Jog to Gersoppa, as NH206 wound its way
through pristine wilderness engulfed by dense fog (even during the peak of day
light) accompanied by the distant roar of Sharavathi, deep below in the valley,
on her way to the Arabian sea…like us. Somewhere on this sexy road there’s a
rare opening in the foliage that permits a breath stopping view of the
Sharavathi River and we could only consider ourselves unfortunate for the rain
was mind numbing and the fog so dense, nothing beyond 10 meters could be
visualized. We kept going, at not more than 40 Kms/ hr, as the interior of Western Ghats mesmerized us with its questionable beauty.
It is strongly advised to avoid driving through this stretch after dark for you could end up in a
painful uncertainty, may be, and I would say it’s seriously dangerous. The
roads are flawless and the landscapes are mid boggling but, there’s a natural
phenomenon peculiar to the dense regions of Western Ghats – The Fog, and it
could prove your drive fatal which I learnt it the hard way during my exit from
Goa into Karnataka later in this trip. For now, me and Mr. Dave were
enjoying the drive of our life through the less seen virgin regions and the beauty of this drive culminated in a
tiny village called “Hejani” – just blood freezing was its beauty…and I could
only yell till I go dumb to proclaim that. Rain so hard that it could drench
your nerves, fog so dense and fast that it would flow through your ears and
nose, scattered broken houses in the middle of vast fields, small herds of cows
grazing as quiet as in a Nazi concentration camp, lonely school boy walking in
the distance holding the hand of his mother, occasional bird calls from deep
inside the forests and the feeling of being near to a perfect world order,
nothing comes close. The rains gained so much force as not to permit us
enjoy this natural wonder and we stuffed ourselves into the car to bid a
tearful farewell to this not much heard village. Beyond Hejani we didn’t bother
to stop much for I already decided there could be no better visual treat to our
eyes and hastened the drive to catch up with the coastal Highway NH17, at
Honnavar. The Rains have washed this
part of the state like an automatic washing machine that everything seemed
pristine and green and even we could see the air with our eyes. When we
reached Honnavar it was already 17:30 Hrs and the need to accelerate gained importance
for we needed to reach Karwar by nightfall, as NH17 is renowned for its rain
induced potholes and single lane life ending drives. The rain was relentless
and we were driving along the west coast now with occasional crossings of the
Legendary Konkan Railways. There were
numerous streams and few big rivers hurrying up from the Ghats in pursuit of
the Arabian Sea and it was a sort of feeling
to drive over the bridges constructed above them. It was a hair rising moment
when I crossed over the calm Aghanashini river, for it was her whom I met in
her juvenile stage up in the Ghats a year back while on a trek to the Benne
Hole falls near Sirsi. It was a moment where I wanted to relate things fast;
she was a small wild stream up in Ghats, 50 Kms away, now she had transformed
into a massive body of mud red water about to pour into the Arabian sea and it
was a moment when I terribly failed for the beauty around stopped my Humane
correlations and forced to enjoy what she was now. It was atleast 30 minutes
past sun set and there was still certain light peeping out from the west,
subtly illuminating the Karwar coast and its amicable beauty, as me and Mr.
Dave watched with awe a lonely fisherman crossing an unknown river with a
mighty bridge of the Konkan Railways forming a stunning back drop to the moment.
I really did cry there, as it completely got dark forcing us to retreat
from the dangerous edge of that river bank and mind our business of reaching
Karwar in time. NH17 was another turning point in my driving life as she took
me through some of the most divinely landscapes of the Indian Peninsula
and I instantly recognized the region around this killer Highway was a
repository of photographic opportunities. When we reached Karwar that night, I
never knew if we could manage a good hotel for the night’s dream and when we
did so, it was a relief of the biggest order as we switched on the air
conditioner and settled into the comfortable bed to visualize again the
landscapes we drove through the day that went past…Karwar was wet under the torrential rain…and so was my heart under the
torrential thoughts from Western Ghats…and her creations…In the process, I
entirely forget about Braganza…the Baffling Braganza…who’s she?? Why I didn’t
bother to talk about her till now though this posting was dedicated to her??
The day next would answer…should I mange to emerge out of the dream Iam
sleeping through now…
Early morning was humid and “bit” disturbing to the skin
when we went for a stroll near the beach for a cup of tea. A young kitten accompanied us for the morning tea on the deserted road
and I felt pained when I couldn’t buy anything for that “meow” as it rubbed my
legs and kept purring. It was cute and seemed to be god sent to relax my mind
for the torment we were about to go through later that day (I personally named
it – “The Karwar Kat”). We kicked of the brief drive in pursuit of KULEM, a
small village in the MOLLEM forests of eastern Goa,
to catch up with her within the dense confines of BHAGWAN MAHAVEER WILDLIFE
SANCTUARY. Bid bye to ‘The Coastal Town
of Karwar’ and drove further north on the never ending NH7 into the border of
the smallest state of India,
Goa. Once past the twin check posts of
Karnataka and Goa’n police, NH17 snakes its way through the beautiful countryside
through densely packed terrain. The houses on either side open out on NH17
directly with very less space for pedestrians and slow vehicles. There were
occasional backwaters and coconut groves dominated the vegetation leading my
memoirs down south, to Kerala. Iam not sure, to tell, if Goa’n landscape
resembles Kerala or the other way around but, Iam hell bent to travel through
and document the lifestyle along the three major coasts of western India –
Konkan, Karwar and Malabar in that order from the north. They really are
mesmerizing when traveled through at exactly the same time when monsoon winds
blow from the Arabian Sea. The packed road
slowed us down and we were getting apprehensive of our Braganza plans. Now to
the topic - There are mind boggling Ghat sections in Karnataka – Shiradi,
Charmadi, and Bisle to name a few…the one we were intended to end up for the
day was the Legendary Braganza Ghat that
connects Kulem in Goa with Castle Rock in Karnataka and in the process,
traverses through one of the pristine regions of Western Ghats. Exactly mid way
on this baffling Ghat section, river Mandovi plummets 310 Ms from above the
Ghats right over the Hubli-Vasco rail line creating a drama of emotions,
adventure and romance – collectively the mighty Dudh Sagur (or Sagar), India’s
5th tallest waterfall. There are different approaches to meet
this marvel –
- Hire
a government run 4WD Jeep and reach the base of the falls. This is
possible only post Monsoon as the couple of streams on the way will be
flooded rendering the route inaccessible.
- Hire
a biker at Kulem railway station for INR 550/head (not negotiated) and sit
on the pillion as he drives the bike along the track and then, through the
forest. This will also end you up at the base of the falls.
- The
third is to trek on the Hubli-Vasco rail line either from Kulem (Goa Side)
or Castle rock (Karnataka Side) for 4 or 5 hours respectively and reach
the “Laps” of Dudh Sagur tired and exhausted, to be rejuvenated instantly
by the views. From Kulem it’s approximately an 11.5 Kms trek while from
Castle rock, it’s a little longer at 14 Kms.
- Fourth
option is for real men, real adventurers who want to meet her from where she
falls, the challenging Kuveshi route. This route will take you to the
crest of Dudh Sagur and after few minutes of “awe” inspiring moments at
the top, you would jump to death for the beauty below will force you so.
It’s a life bettering death…
- The
fifth and less popular option is the trek program of BHAGWAN MAHAVEER
WILDLIFE SANCTUARY. You could trek through the reserved forests and reach
the base of the fall.
Me and Mr. Dave had planned for the much famous track trekking as it offers varied experiences of walking
through the tunnels, observing the forests from the safety of the track,
protection from leeches, run along with the trains, hold the breath when we
confront a 4000 tone locomotive inside a pitch dark tunnel and at last the
uncompromising views, in particular, of the Dudh Sagur falls with a train
passing right through the middle of her. Before all this could happen, we
were in a hurry to reach the Kulem Station and the roads never seemed to end
since we took the right deviation few Kms before Marga on the NH17. The Goa’n interiors were very lonely and
there were few people to ask directions for as it took numerous turns and
inquiries to hit the NH4A, speeding its way majestically through the Molem
forests from Panaji (Goa’n Capital) to Belgaum
in Karnataka. From here our target, Molem, was very near and there was a
huge relief on reaching this village that shot to fame through the 310 Ms fall
of Mandovi…somewhere there…in the depths of BHAGWAN MAHAVEER WILDLIFE SANCTUARY
(BMWS)…and we were now nearing her much faster…
From Molem, the road to Kulem traverses through the quaint
buffer zone of the BMWS and terminates right at the Gate of Kulem Railway
station after just 7 Kms. When we reached this spot, it was abuzz with activity
with lots of tourists walking around exploring the options. Most opted for the
Biker’s lift and the only group to opt for the 11.5 Kms walk were me and Mr.
Dave, as we stuffed our bags with lot of Buns and a couple of 1 liter water
bottles. It was already 13:30 Hrs and most were returning from their hike/ ride
back to Molem, as we got speculative of our plans to walk the entire stretch
with no local company. It usually takes 4 hours to reach Dudh Sagur when on
foot from Kulem, and a simple count made us conclude that return hike is ruled
out for the nights are dangerous to walk through the sanctuary and there would
be a definite downpour. My only concern
at that point of time was not returning back to Kulem but, the 890 Kms drive
back home from there after an exhaustive trek on ballast, and I very well knew
the first section of 120 Kms from Molem to Dharwad would be a nightmare until
we caught up with NH4. There was no room for further speculation as we were
already running out of time and we hit the tracks waving and smiling at the
signal man. The initial view itself threw a firm impression of things about to
emerge as we would proceed further, away from habitation, into the forests of
Molem. Me and Dave had, a year back, trekked on tracks in the Sakleshpur range
Ghat section between Donigal and an unknown forest outpost through the
challenging Shiradi Ghats. That was our first encounter with “Ballast” trekking
and we dwindled to an exhausted piece of flesh and bone just after 5 Kms of non
stop walk. That was an eye opener and am
still determined to conquer the entire Green route, as it is called, which runs
for 50+ Kms through hazardous sections of the Western
Ghats between Hassan and Dakshin Kannad districts. With
experience providing the confidence, we walked robustly over the well laid
tracks piercing through dense and desolate forests of Molem (Photo 19). Lack of rain was playing spoilsport and I instantly knew it wasn’t the
same Braganza as it used to be during the monsoons. Braganza takes aback by
surprise with its unique beauty during the monsoons – Drenched green forests
with mists over their canopy like the vapors over a hot food, trains winding
their way romantically through pouring rains, tunnels dripping with water at
the edges and providing that much needed shelter, valleys below rendered
invisible by chunks of fog and that unexplainable ambience associated with rains
in Western Ghats. It was bit sunny
for this part of the year and we were sweating like during the Sakleshpur trek,
which was completely unacceptable to me for we had traveled all the way from
Chennai in search of the Braganza magic. After 4.5 hours of relentless walk we
reached our destination – the legendary Dudh Sagur (DSR) waterfalls (Photos 3,
8, 13, 14, 18, 22, 25, 26 and 33) – and sun was already going down fast in
the misty west. Lack of rains helped us
in getting clean shots of DSR; nevertheless, I was disappointed for the normal
ambience of DSR would be electrifying, powerful enough to send multiple volts
of inerasable memories deep into our hearts. With a small amount of
disappointment and lots of vengeance, we walked further ahead in pursuit of DSR
railway station (which is nothing more than a shed, a station master and a Gang
man). It was 18:00 Hrs and an indication of impending weather was made by the
sharp cold drizzles, as we ran under the stingy shelter of the “stable” like
railway station. Me and Dave were
wondering when the next freight train (Maal Gaadi in native language) would
arrive and our wait became indefinite as a Gujarati family from Vasco (Vasco is
the biggest city of Goa,
though it’s not the capital) began the chat with us. Rains began their
onslaught and this frustrated me for I wanted all this to happen when there was
daylight and now, I was sitting like in the “Lost World” film in the middle
of no where.
The local guide from Molem, who had accompanied the
Gujarati family, had the necessary links with station master and assured us all
of a place in the Diesel Locomotive that would be hauling 100+ wagons to the port of Vasco but, that freight never showed up.
On inquiry we were startled to learn
there was an uncertainty with the expected freight Loco and our only hope was
now reduced to the dependency on a Loco+4 Brakers (Brakers are additional engines
attached to the main Engine to provide braking power when descending down a
slope with 100+ wagons attached) which would turn up at around 23:30 Hrs,
what?? Yes 23:30 Hrs and now, I was really threatened to attempt the night
drive between Goa and Karnataka as I began to observe the lonely Gang man
whistling his way, to keep the wild animals away, through the forests under
pouring rain to check the tracks. What a hard life?? Phew, and I began to slowly learn that even waiting
could exhaust a man as we were forced to sit under intermittent rains for 5
hours in the core of Western Ghat darkness. When the station master’s
monitoring device turned green on the castle rock side ((Goa)
Kulem-Sonalim-Dudh Sagur-Caranzol-Castle rock (Karnataka) is the Braganza
section), we were elated to extreme and shook hands with each other before
gearing up for the “first time in life” Loco ride. After 20 minutes of nail biting moment, the powerful head lamp of the
Loco threw the first light on our temporarily darkened lives (Photo 35) and our joy knew no bounds. Humans are so weak that Just 5 hours of
isolation made us look at the Locomotive as a savior, sent by the South Western
Railways like an Angel. Boarded her and I decided to stand in the “Cat
Walk” of the main Engine (Cat walk is a
narrow passage running along the length of the Locomotive), as others got
into the cabin of the first Braker behind. There was a freight crossing and our
Locomotive waited for the signal to turn green as I stood patiently on the Cat
Walk looking at the night sky above. Few minutes later the massive WDG4 loco
hauled 70+ wagons past us with an aggression unique to its 4000 Tone Character.
The signal turned green, the main Engine Honked, the fourth Braker at the rear
responded with a counter Honk and then, she moved as I held to the railing
around the loco and danced with her threatening moves. To be frank, I acknowledge this experience of riding through the thick
of a Western Ghat Jungle in the middle of night on a 4000 Tone Loco as more
overwhelming than the mighty Dudh Sagur falls itself. Dudh Sagur was just a
moment but – our 5 hours wait at the Dudh Sagur station, the long Chat with the
big unknown family, the pouring rains, no food or proper water, ghost creating
darkness, tuition from the station master on the equipments and his
experiences, my lonely stand out on the Loco’s cat walk as it howled its way
past the Dudh Sagur falls and through the five tunnels amidst the densest of
Jungles, the night sky and its imitation on forest canopy created by thousands
of Fire flies and, the emotional moment when we bid bye to the station master
and his gang man leaving them back in the fearfully dark DSR station – have
etched a life long memoir that never could be erased by the strongest of acids.
When I jumped on the platform of Kulem station 30 minutes later at 00:00 Hrs, I
could feel tears on the corner of my eyes and I managed to hold them until
we bid farewell to that family of 8+, for without them me and Dave would have
turned manic in that kind of loneliness and darkness. I had completely forgotten my car parked near the railway gate and was
elated to see her after half a day, sorry baby, for leaving you alone in a
strange place. Then it began, an experience that was powerful enough to wipe
away the entire thoughts from Braganza; welcome to Anmod Ghat Section that
connects Goa with Karnataka. Just after Molem the Goa’n police conducts a
routine check and once past their check post, there’s no place to beg salvation
for the next 120 Kms should you drive under a monsoon night. The Anmod Ghat
section was extremely challenging to drive with dense fog and visibility was no
more than 2-3 Mts, as we moved with extreme caution. These 20 something Kms were the biggest humiliation a terrain had
thrown at my driving skills and I feel proud to acknowledge that. When we
reached the village
of Anmod in Karnataka,
the police at border check post ripped open our boot and only left us after
they were content we weren’t traveling with “objectionable” intentions. The
night was wet and extremely cold, as I held to a cup of hot tea and looked into
the darkness through which NH4A pierced. Few Kms from Anmod is the next
village, Ramnagar, and on reaching there we pulled out of the highway and
began the long sleep for the next 2 hours. Ram
Nagar is a village on the cross roads and from here, the roads go in all
directions to Belgaum, Panaji, Karwar and Dharwad, the last one being our
target. Around 6:00 AM in the morning the rain drops were creating a rhythmic
havoc on the roof and the romantic Chill forced me to open the well stuck eye
lashes. The next 70+ Kms through the absolute loneliness of Belgaum’s country side under constant drizzle rewrote my
respect on North West Karnataka and I didn’t stop at any of the heaven like
locations on the way, for it was never on our agenda to write a poem on Belgaum’s forests. When
we hit national highway 4 at Dharwad, after a long mesmerizing drive, it was
pedal to metal for the next 14 hrs until we reached home late that night. Only
then did I realize I forgot the real intention of this Jaunt, to depict the
beauty of Braganza which I never would be able to for she didn’t honor my efforts, she wasn’t in her elements. I could not
fight back but, I could always come back…some day…when I find my time…at
the right time…maybe the 2013 monsoon?? Who knows…?
Behind the scene: At 2200 Kms, this is the longest
drive I had ever attempted single handedly. The main agenda was the Dudh Sagur
waterfall but, Iam obliged to acknowledge that the long drive through varied
landscapes and emotions have sidelined the memoirs from Dudh Sagur and Braganza.
They say India
is a Land of extremes and diversity is its uniqueness and after this drive I
say the same; for the differences in terrain, people and culture was mind
numbing when I had just traveled through 2 states. With 26 states and 7 Union
territories more, I could only imagine the beauty of this vast country. Hope
the coming generations protect this uniqueness and kill the greed which is
killing the country’s natural resources. This drive was an eye opener to my
lust for nature as it introduced me to a beautiful part of the Peninsula, The
Anmod and the southern fringes of Belgaum,
both of which were mind disturbing with their unrivalled beauty. I apologize to
Dudh Sagur as I never bothered to depict her in this posting, for the events
that occurred through this entire Jaunt diverted my thinking and moreover, she
failed to be in her elements. There’s always a next time and when it knocks at
my door, I’ll be glad to open up and submerge in her flood…
Parameters
Route – Chennai-Vellore-Hosur-Bangalore-Tumkur-Sira-Chitradurga-Shimoga-Kumsi-Sagar-Talguppa-Jog-Gersoppa-Honnavar-Kumta-Ankola-Karwar-Marga
(Take the right at approx 15 Kms before Marga, caution needed) – Molem-Kulem.
(1307 Kms)
Kulem-Molem-Anmod-Ramnagar-Dharwad-Hubli-Haveri-Davangere-Chitradurga-Sira-Tumkur-Bangalore-Chennai.
(893 Kms)
Best time to Visit – July and August
Specialties – Mesmerizing wilderness of
Karnataka and the “wild” wilderness of Goa, the superb track trekking
experience, the ambience surrounding the Dudh Sagur falls and the terrific
Anmod Ghat section.
What you should do – Hire a local guide at Kulem and
walk the 11.5 Kms to Dudh Sagur, ask him to fix a deal with the station master
for a night ride in a Locomotive, start early in the morning for the Dudh Sagur
trek to indulge in photography and the wilderness, if you have time try to walk
from the Castle rock side too for this section is more scenic than from the
Kulem side and, if you want to see the entire fall of Dudh Sagur with a shot of
a train passing through the middle of her don’t forget to choose the Kulem
route.
Don’t forget – An umbrella, sturdy walking
shoes to tackle the ballast, a “very” powerful torch, to sit down when you
encounter a train inside the tunnel, to spend atleast couple of hours in the
darkness of Dudh Sagur station under pouring rains, to learn the basics of a
station master’s job, to get a lift in a Loco in the middle of the night, to
book a stay at Molem for a night of relaxation and, to avoid the Anmod Ghat
during the night.
