ANMOD ADVENTURE, AUG-2014

It was on a cold, fogged and drenched night of an August night in 2012; that I stumbled upon her unknowingly and unaware of whom she was and what she meant. She blessed me with little mercy, just little enough, that I managed to emerge out of her confines with still life inside me. Certain events, people and places have a special impact on our lives and with that specialty occurs a lifetime relation; a relation that plays hide and seek, while in the process making the bonding much stronger, interesting and eternal. Past 2012 and as each August approaches I instinctively prepare myself to embark on a 2K + Kms drive, to Anmod and back, with no specific reason to justify the energy and expense. I did it in 2012, bettered that in 2013, and in 2014; I embarked on yet another journey in search of uncontrolled ecstasy that was available in abundance in the regions surrounding Anmod, the frontier of NW Karnataka with yet another mesmerizing state; Goa. In the past I had just managed to rush through Anmod, while she was busy partying with the powerful monsoon winds, under the cover of darkness and she proved to be a nostalgic pit stop every time I climbed over the Western Ghats, from Goa on the other side, and landed up in NW Karnataka with shivering body and sleepy eyes. The first time I met her, I feared her; the second time, I challenged her; and in this instance, I had planned to indulge in her for a good couple of days from a hideout that was nestled deep in the forests of enigmatic Uttar Kannad, the land of gods. The journey started from my office on a dull evening as I cranked the 2 liter TDI engine of my Jetta DSG parked cozily in the basement parking and drove out in the twilight with no one for company. For the first 340 Kms, until Bangalore, the drive was uneventful expect for a moment when I first crossed 200 KMPH in the Jetta and thereafter; it was a frantic search for my colleague Vidhyaprakash (VP) in the north Western outskirts of this polluted city. It was past 60 minutes since I began the search and with time I was beginning to lose patience for I had more than 500 Kms to cover to find ourselves hidden deep inside the forests of Anmod with sufficient time left behind in the day next for a meaningful relaxation. Moreover; it was a manic Independence Day weekend and the entire city was rushing out as it would when attacked by an Alien ship and this multiplied the pressure to find VP ASAP. Few minutes after I lost all my preserved patience, VP was there in front of the car as in a thriller film, thanks to Xenon headlamps, he was able to identify the car from a distance and stop me at the right moment. With men and material consolidated, it was now a non-stop run to Anmod after a halt at my favorite tea shop @ Tumkur under the cover of pre-dawn darkness and sleep inducing chillness. Distances were covered at a manic pace, thanks to the DSG gearbox, as I never felt a hint of fatigue, nevertheless; the dangerous culprit, pre-dawn sleep, averted my attempt to drive uninterruptedly all the way upto Anmod. Eventually I gave up to the uncertain element and pulled out of the majestic National Highway 4 past Chitradurga and slept instantly at a dark corner of the seductive NH13, the national highway that speeds all the way from Solapur towards Mangalore in the distant and romantic West coast. I had driven over NH13 twice in the past and its mind boggling memoirs provided comfortable warmth against the harsh countryside chillness as I sank into a deep, out of this world sleep. The dawn was just a couple of hours away from waking us up, and Anmod; still more than couple of hundred Kms…

The Jetta was doing in excess of 160 KMPH, but I was yet to undress my sluggishness induced by the pre-dawn sleep carried over from a night of high speed drives and monsoon drenched dreams. It was a relaxed drive thereafter and we eventually made it to the Goa exit at Dharwad, from where starts the amazing road that would humble the most determined of drivers during a monsoon drenched night. This time though, she was dry and hot with the usual “wilderness” absent or, even; anywhere near to her causing a big upset to our plans. I was disappointed that the deadly charm of Anmod couldn’t be illustrated to VP, as he sat beside me wondering why I went mad about this place. With his question justified by the peculiar behavior of monsoon this year, I drove helplessly towards the frontier village only to be stunned by her powerful uniqueness. Upon reaching Anmod we relaxed for few minutes at the highway tea shop, while inquiring about our hideout for the next 2 days and the pathway leading towards it. I had booked a cottage in the exotic Shangri La Jungle village nestled deep in the forests of Anmod and it was a good 8 Kms jungle tract that need to be covered up to be there within the confines of this notoriously romantic resort. With the apprehension of taking the brand new car into the unknown swinging strong, I eventually laid my trust on the 159 mm clearance Jetta had over the terrain and my immense patience to force the conscience to enter the breathtaking Jungle tract. It took a stunning 1.5 hours to cover the petite 8 Kms tract shredded with boulders and slippery mud, as I managed to cross this stretch without a single hit to Jetta’s underbody. The highlight of this 8 Kms drive was a tri-junction (Photo 6) where utter confusion let me and VP into a remote village, with cats and dogs as its primary inhabitants, in search of people to ask for directions. Upon reaching the resort, eventually, we were stunned to be welcomed into a luxurious indulgence that just didn’t fit the rugged forest we drove through few minutes earlier. We were even greeted with chilled beer and Bacardi Breezers and the setting was too much of a temptation that, we quickly grabbed a couple of cans and rushed to our cottage to dive into the magical ambience of this jungle resort. Day 1 went past quickly as we settled into the cozy dining area, after dusk, with chilled Breezers to plan for our 14 Kms long trek to be executed the day next. When I embarked on this long journey from Chennai the original plan was to trek to Kuveshi from Castle rock, and capture on the 5D Mark-3 a stunning drop shot of the mighty Dudh Sagur from above the serpentine North Western railway line through the Braganza Ghat. But as in most of my past instances, this plan turned out to be a dream rather than reality as resort manager Rahul and our Guide for the day next, George, disintegrated our plans with words of extreme danger and difficulty that would deter us should we attempt to hike to Kuveshi under prevailing conditions. As a last resort, we had no option but to settle for the insanely exploited Castle rock to Dudh Sagur (DSR) trek through the Braganza Ghat section that would be littered with thousands of people on a manic weekend like this one. Nevertheless, I felt interested as I never have attempted this route in the past and all my hikes to DSR were from Kulem, Goa. Moreover, VP was extremely motivated to walk over the tracks and get himself pictured below the mesmerizing DSR falls, probably; a lifetime dream for him and I obliged to support this cause with no second thoughts. The night blanketed us with its monsoon filled winds and moisture, as our cottage went dark and quiet to let us have the sleep of a lifetime…

At 6 AM sharp we were greeted by George and his sturdy Mahindra & Mahindra 4 wheel drive Jeep to pick us up and drop at the Castle Rock railway station for the 14 Kms walk over ballast, sleepers and metal tracks. It was annoyingly disturbing to learn the capability of this 4 wheel drive vehicle as it covered the same 8 Kms tract in, probably; 25 mins while the Jetta took an insanely lazy 1.5 hours. I wouldn’t complain, for both of these are made for 2 extremely different purposes and I just compared to add words to this travelogue. Once out on the highway the differences in stability were apparent as the Jeep felt completely disturbed over the slippery, smooth Tarmac and struggled for traction around the high speed corners drenched in rain. We were now headed towards Ram Nagar in search of an ATM and upon learning that the only one installed in this Village wasn’t working due to heavy rains; we headed further North to Londa. After picking up sufficient money from this lazy, rain thrashed village, we sped past romantic Konkan vistas towards a village that had the potential to spark the strongest romance from within the most frustrated men on this planet. Thanks to our ATM adventure, we took an “abnormal” route to Castle Rock that contained breathtaking views of Uttar Kannad’ s “make you believe in God” landscapes and “make your mouth open wide” stories as the 4 wheel drive Jeep just annihilated anything the terrain threw at it. If only the rains were normal this year, my tears that were held on the brim of my eyelids would have flowed out of them overwhelmingly. The drizzle was mild and the ambience was calm when we hit the ultra-narrow street to Castle Rock station, as we waved a bye to George and hurriedly purchased the return tickets from Dudh Sagur station. With the heart beat settling into a normal rhythm, our long walk into the Braganza Ghat section began with a “normal” note, thanks to the poor monsoon winds, as the electrifying ambience of the monsoon drenched Braganza was completely absent. I wasn’t disappointed though, for the setting I was walking through was light years better than the one I would have been sitting under should I have stayed back in Chennai. The bigger agenda, however; was to take a shot of VP in front of the mighty DSR and fulfill his dream, for which, he had incurred enormous efforts to free himself from varied social hand cuffs. The 14 Kms walk was straightforward; as expected, tough and frustrating as the legs began to ache with relentless torture sent by the ballast and sleepers. I had walked on tracks, twice in the past, in pursuit of DSR and both of them were from Kulem, on the Goa’n side and exactly opposite to the direction we were coming from now. I love the Kulem route for it offers a splendid view of the complete DSR falls with trains chugging right through the middle creating mayhem of emotions. In contrast, the Castle Rock route has nothing to offer as special on a trek like this and for reasons unknown, it continues to be the option preffered by 90% of the people who love to visit DSR. It took a manic 4 hours for me and VP to rush to the falls to capture the shot he came running for (Photo 15), and we had to rush because; we were bound to catch an express train at DSR station and missing that would mean a second 14 Kms walk back to Castle Rock which our stamina couldn’t afford at that instant of time. Looking at the ocean of people waiting for this train (Photo 14), I instantly melted and viewed with Jealous the freight train halted in the parallel track that was awaiting clearance to roar towards Kulem. It was empty, full of space and adventure and more than anything else; the thoughts from the past 2 years when I managed a paid ride exactly in this freight loco and sped past the human ocean offered a strong sting. The only relief for my annihilated stamina at that point of time was the distant view of hills with monsoon clouds hovering around them, reluctantly (Photo 13). When the train broke through the ocean of people and made its presence felt on the lonely track, there was a stampede like rush to get into it as me and VP were thrown between the door and wash basin of an AC coach. Those 20 mins of train ride were the most horrifying moments of my life as I blackened out from lack of oxygen upon reaching Castle Rock. It took a significant 10 mins to regain consciousness, thanks to the pure, cold air and the mild drizzle that had begun to transform into a heavy downpour. Few anxious minutes later we were picked by George under pouring rains and on the way back to Shangri La, he stopped by a “my kind of” tea shop for a glass of hot ginger tea that seemed out of this world under the heavenly evening downpour, and more so; after our tiring full day hike. Thereafter, it was a romantic drive through the Jungle tract and the last evening of our vacation was spent with chilled Breezers watching the rhythmic havoc of monsoon rains. Moments like these will be cherished in our memoirs eternally, no matter how lonely and drained we were, as we welcomed the day next with packed up luggage and a hefty bill settlement. It was a quiet and boring drive until Ram Nagar, after which the Jetta transformed its character from being a subtle cat averting threats to an arrogant bull speeding through the crowd trying to conquer it. As we gained speed and covered distances at an intimidating pace, I was still doubtful if VP was satisfied with this Jaunt? I knew he wasn’t, but I was helpless expect for the photo 15 and I also knew very well it alone wouldn’t do justice to his efforts in joining me for this unforgettable weekend Jaunt. Sorry VP, monsoon is a maniac, either ways…

BELGAUM BALLET, JUL-2014

Exactly 2 years back; while I was exhausted and dehydrated but still driving enthusiastically through the southern fringes of Belgaum forests on a cold monsoon dawn, god rendered an unforgettable visual that kept burning within until I completed this Jaunt after 24 months of impatience. It was a nostalgic drive then, in 2012, when I and David were constrained on resources, friends, energy and even courage; as we both were in the concluding phases of our long, lonely drive from Chennai to West Coast and then back into the Peninsula, after photographing Jog and Dudh Sagur falls. It was one of those few drives, of the many we both had done, that would remain always at the brink of our memory and keep disturbing us in our sleep years later. Ever since; I wanted to conquer this long drive again, get past Belgaum and venture into her Jungles to explore the beauty she had held behind the seducing Ghats that were covered with infinite spread of meadows and Jungles. 2013 came close, as I drove past Belgaum and ended up in a comfortable resort rather than exploring nature’s hidden secrets, nevertheless; it was an eye opener as it ignited the already fuming urge to dance to the tunes of Belgaum’s forests. When I drive through the fringes of these forests, unlike the forests of Agumbe which instill certain romantic addiction to loneliness, it always felt like being pulled towards a distant ballet being performed by the master himself. These forests weren’t as arrogant as those in Agumbe, here; you don’t need to run, you don’t need to bother, you don’t need to fear, you don’t need to look back, rather; you hear tunes that aren’t audible, you make moves that are unseen, you begin to dance to his tunes, you begin to forget everything, you begin to get everything, you begin to live real. These 2 years have seen me grow in strength, experience, stamina, love, passion, equipment, knowledge and outlook, but for one thing; and that’s the child inside me when it comes to Indian forests. They have that certain aura which pulls me down from anywhere I may be and make me seem a small boy, as I was years back, and make me dance and shed tears. Now again, as in the past and forever as I live, the powerful combination of monsoon, rains and my love for “secluded submission” to the depths of rain forests pulled me towards this untouched section of Western Ghats. What I went through for the next 2 days would be romantically recorded in my passive memory, only to be pulled out at some point of life when I felt tired and bored about the long journey I have been asked to go through by my fate. What added certain extra specialty to this long Jaunt was the 2014 Jetta DSG that I bought after a long debate between my heart and the brain, and this induced a superb feel to kick start the first official trip of this SW monsoon considering the delayed onset for the year 2014. It was a dream come true, as I turned the Bi-Xenon’s to Auto mode and rendered the dangerous path ahead to child’s play with the bright daylight like illumination while intermittently touching insane speeds this German Sedan just loved to.

The reason I chose Belgaum as my destination was primarily because I wanted to test the high speed capability of the Jetta and this was only possible on the majestic NH4 with its sparse traffic and wide open lanes speeding through the countryside of Karnataka. It was the usual romantic loneliness that accompanied us, apart from the cold darkness, until we hit our favourite tea stop at Tumkur where I parked the Jetta just adjacent to the national highway and enjoyed a cup of very hot, refreshing Chai looking excitedly at the splendid, timeless beauty of this perfectly proportioned motor car. It has been long years of dreaming for me, dreaming about this moment, moment of laziness, laziness to do anything but to only stare at my beautiful car on a cold dawn alongside a national highway and with this; I eventually woke up to the occasion me and my friends were pursuing. Keeping aside my childish selfishness, the real driving factors behind this 2000 Kms long road trip were 2 lesser known beauties hidden in the forests of Belgaum, subtly set along the border of Maharashtra. I had dreamt about them for years now and the time had come to meet these 2 secret falls, eyeball to eyeball; when they were at the apex of their “beauty potential” during the SW monsoon of 2014. Sada and Shimbola, as they are called, are 2 remote waterfalls that couldn’t be accessed without the guidance of a native and this made the claim about their seclusion more fortified. NH4 was graced by the distant monsoon winds from the west coast and it was a romantic drive all the way upto Belgaum, after which begins the insanely romantic Chorla Ghat road. Ever since I met her during the monsoon of 2013, Chorla gained a remarkably special position in my list of highly exotic locations. With a dozen bottles of Budweiser stuffed in, we left behind Belgaum to manage its daily chores on its own to pursue our weekend seclusion that lay a good 40+ Kms on the monsoon drenched and enigmatic Chorla Ghat road. To nurture our weekend seclusion and subsequently, the very ambition of meeting 2 concealed waterfalls I had fixed an appointment with Infinity Adventures; an adventure camp that specialized in treks into the forests of Belgaum and the neighboring jungles of Goa and Maharashtra, to take us close to Sada and Shimbola through the mesmerizing forests of Belgaum. What makes Infinity special is the fact that this camp is located just adjacent to Chorla Ghat road making way for an easy access and also, giving a distant glimpse of the speeding vehicles unaware of the beauty and life this Ghat sections holds beneath. Outside temp was in the range of 18 degree Celsius and this made our bath in the extremely cold water a mind numbing experience, as we came running out of the bath one after the other shivering but; delightfully refreshed. As darkness fell the facility was lit with battery power, Infinity relies on solar/ Battery for power and this meagre supply is only available between 19:00 and 23:00 hours, forcing us to cautiously plan our steps into the darkness and a sudden chill on the ankles meant a rouge leech has managed a bite. After a quick sprint we hit the generously lit eat out area to relish a night that was decorated with cold monsoon winds, chilled Budweiser, hot chicken meat from the tandoor, couple of great friends, rain splash, absolute silence, remote feelings, gushing streams in three directions, a lonely but courageous pussy cat and a generous dinner thereafter. Feeling of discomfort that arose from lack of water heater, a fan to dry ourselves and some light for a comfortable walk were soon pushed to oblivion only to be surpassed by the extraordinary ambience that helped us fall asleep without the slightest of materialistic thoughts.

As Dawn emerged, fighting through the darkness of monsoon clouds, it was cold and damp with rains at their shivering best while ravaging the Ghats with remarkable intensity and passion. The day and weather were perfect to step into the forests of Chorla to meet the mighty Sada, falling from over 300 feet somewhere deep down the valley with her roar being “hushed” by the dense jungles all around. The journey to Sada is invigorating and it takes you through mind boggling terrains that are a mix of steep elevations, rugged off-roading, spreading mists, high intensity intermittent showers, fresh oxygen and lots of romance. The access to Sada is through, first; the Sada caves, next; the Sada village, and the journey until these two themselves will relax your unsettled mind like a bottle of 12 years old scotch. The jeep dropped us at an elevated plateau, which I believe is a reminiscence of ancient volcanic activity (Photos 5,10 and 18), and the journey of “Awe” begins right from here as tons of mist, accompanied with sharp intermittent drizzles, suffocate you with fresh oxygen and hair raising cold. The trek upto Sada caves (Photo 7) is thrilling and thereafter it turned out to be more of my kind of feeling, that remote and wild seclusion which imparts a feel of being close to the master (Photos 12,14 and 20). From Sada caves it’s a straightforward descent to the Sada village, which in itself is a different world, and after this remote village (Photo 6) the journey into the depths of Chorla forest intensifies. This region is only slightly northerly to the dense forests of southern Karnataka, but the drop in temperature incredibly transformed into a mind boggling reduction in leech population. If I were inside a forest In Agumbe or Mundaje I would be a minority and would have been abused by hundreds of Leech bro’s, but here; I was able to hike without the slightest of worries about these blood suckers as they were very few, I meant VERY FEW. As I walked through the romantic forest trails I was wondering how the absence of these tiny creatures had increased the happiness coefficient of my trek by 200% and it made me wonder how happy a man I would be if all of the rainforests were devoid of these bloody and elastic suckers. To compensate for the absence of Leech Bro’s these forests were infested with huge caterpillars and we had to be extremely cautious to not step over them, for we were the intruders. After unknown hours of hard hiking past the jealous inducing vistas (Photos 29 and 30) these forests were blessed with, the first view of Sada (Photo 16) emerged out of the dense canopy we were walking under and with further more precarious steps the complete picture emerged (Photo 25) like out of a fairytale. She was imposing and like nothing I have seen before, she wasn’t the biggest but still; she had a strong grasp on our emotions and thoughts at that particular point of time while we were mesmerized by the spray her powerful fall was spewing in all four directions. After a terrible struggle avoiding the water spray on camera lens, I managed few clean shots of Sada and leaving her without those pictures would have meant a punishing blow to my enthusiasm and the long travel over the last couple of days. Natural wonders are to be left on their own, they induce emotions but they themselves are devoid of any. It’s we humans who fall victim to their beauty while they go about executing exactly what they were intended to. Understanding this concept is important to depart without a hard feeling as I managed to bid goodbye to her and embark on my return hike back to the Infinity adventure camp. Sada evoked a cocktail of exotic emotions as she presented me with few of the most beautiful visual spectacles I had ever witnessed, nevertheless; certain natural creations may not be as big or as beautiful as Sada but still, manage to get that “exotic” badge tagged to them and the waterfall I was to visit the day next was one among them.

The final day of this long tour was quiet, rainy and lonely as we were the last remaining tourists, resilient to natural forces, determined to complete the task that was chalked out 975 Kms away from the action zone we were walking through. The hike to Shimbola waterfalls, though not as eventful and as long lasting as the one to Sada, is in a different league with its extremely isolated forest tracts, stunning quietness, fear inducing density of vegetation, little bit of more leech population and that “something” which makes this hike a hands down winner in terms of thrill and satisfaction. The hike starts from a small unknown village that seems to be straight out of god’s art gallery (Photo 9) and quickly transitions into a dense forest tract that leaves hardly any space to watch out your back. The trek continues to take you further deep into the jungle which initially seems intimidating but gradually turns out to be an exotic indulgence as you begin to feel privileged to be allowed to witness few of nature’s powerful visuals. The first sector of this trek concludes abruptly at the end of a cliff (Photo 15), from where you get to witness the mist clad peaks and the valleys in between them as it turns out to be a revelation when the guide mentions we will be descending into one of them to pursue and meet Shimbola. This place also offers a sense of space and freedom to grasp quick chunks of fresh air after that heart beat increasing hike through the dense, mildly leech infested tracts as we look into the distant emptiness and breathe a sigh of relief unaware of what is down there in the depths. After few minutes of descent we were sturdily made aware this trek was much tougher and riskier than Sada and extreme caution need to be exercised to avoid a fall or from stepping over an exotic, colorful creature. After many desperate minutes the first glimpse of Shimbola appeared through a clearing in the canopy (Photo 13) and she seemed to be in a very angry mood due to the relentless rains that had been thrashing this region for the past 2 months or so. Shimbola was an average sized fall, but what made her special was the ferocity with which she surged down from the heights and the anger with which she drenched whatever that ventured near her. She was so ferocious (photos 4 and 22) that I was numb to the lone leech that was busy climbing up my waist until I realized it was time to whip that away and photograph the remote, romantic Shimbola. Unlike other falls that make your attempt to photograph a nightmare with generous supply of water spray, Shimbola; though ferocious, was well behaved and not a drop of water hit the camera lens until I completed my photographic indulgence leading me into astonishment. Rain gained intensity and the dense vegetation provided excellent opportunity for the rouge leech bro’s to climb up onto our drenched bodies camouflaging their trademark “chillness” the instant they cling. With things turning out to be wild, we embarked on the return hike through a different route that would make us trek straight through the middle of a wild stream for more than a Km with dense rain forests on either side. As we emerged out of the valley and climbed up, I requested my friend to shoot this departing shot (Photo 19) with me looking at the distant spray of Shimbola for I knew it would be a nostalgic reminder of the exotic moments we savored at one of the best locations hidden deep in the Ghats. The trek back was as close as one could ever get to ecstasy and the fact that, with this concludes the potentially “Alpha” trip of the 2014 season made me dwindle into a state of sadness. When we returned back to Infinity camp and packed up after a sumptuous lunch, it was still pouring and I was extremely reluctant to leave behind this ambience and hand over myself to the clutches of urban congregation. As we drove through the Chorla Ghat it was still dark, romantic, pouring and nostalgic, only strengthening the fact that monsoon is a magic that makes millions go mad. For us, now; it was a long 900+ Kms drive back to home to sleep and dream if it all were real that we experienced in the past 3 days. With this posting about to end few of you could have wondered why I didn’t utter a word on Photos 1 and 28 which seem to be the highlight of this Jaunt, I didn’t for I had poured my entire creativity for this waterfall during my 2013 visit to Chorla in the form of a separate posting “The Loan”…She is yet another marvel of this blessed region, the fabulous Sural falls, but for this trip; she was just a starter…