A trip to wilderness & discovery of self

Warning: A very long post...

Sitting in the 3rd AC coach of Rajadhani Express to Bangalore, I wondered – was I doing the right thing? Would I be able to actually do it? I was travelling to Bangalore to join a group of absolute strangers for a trek to Mukurthi Peak in the Nilgiris. I have always wanted to climb mountains (have had some experience in climbing hills in the Araku Valley, Chintappally region near Visakhapatnam – almost a decade and a half back), but this was my first proper trek. Sure, apprehensions loomed large, but I dismissed them and a voice within kept telling me things will turn out fine.

I was going to join a group trek organized by Santosh of Get Off Ur Ass (yes that is what it is!), an outdoor adventure store in Bangalore. I had contacted Santosh sometime back when hubby and I were planning to take a vacation, to see if he had anything planned for that weekend. He didn't. In recent times I was looking at getting away alone for a bit and so when Santosh wrote to me about Mukurthi trek, I jumped at the idea. Santosh gracefully agreed to receive me at the station, said I could freshen up at his place, before we headed out. And here I was embarking on what hubby dear definitely thought was a "crazy" journey. Oh well!

As promised, Santosh was at the station to receive me. A short drive to his place to refresh and a very good breakfast and we were off. There were three others travelling along with us from Bangalore. The plan was to set off by 10 in the morning, halt at Tusker Valley for the night, and get to Ooty by early morning to join the others in the group. We got started and en route on Mysore road picked up the others - Shreya, Parul and "youngman" Karthik! It was a quiet drive - either because we were all new to one another, or because we were "tired", each lost in one's own world. Occasionally, you could hear Parul singing out loud from the back seat and Shreya trying to make conversation with the oh-so-reticent Karthik (was that an act, one wondered later on). Lunch happened at Mughal Durbar in Mysore; Parul raved about the Biryani at that place at every meal the next three days. Just as we started out after lunch, it began to pour. Santosh frowned; and it was evident why - he just wanted to ensure that our trip was not ruined because of these sudden rains.

By about evening we reached Tusker Valley - a beautiful, two hundred-fifty acre privately-owned valley (is this guy stinking rich or what?), enveloped by imposing hills all around; this seemed like a perfect place to lose oneself to nature. Legend has it that there was indeed a time when jumbo tuskers swanned these hills, the Segur Ghats of the Nilgiris, and no one dared venture into the forests. The name is probably derived from then. Today, even if you do not necessarily bump into a tusker, living amidst the rugged landscape and stunning views will be an experience in itself. But we were far luckier. The next day we did happen to catch a Jumbo (and no, one is not talking of Kumble here) make its way to the hillock right opposite our rooms. We got a pretty good view from where we stood, and were able to follow it with our eyes as it made its way through trees and bushes. But that was later. A hot cup of tea first, and I was ready for some adventure (though, honestly, one wasn't really ready for what one got). With Parul, the ardent mountain-climber, I made my way up the mountain at the back of our rooms.

Trekking up the hill in flip-flops was quite a challenge, but the views made it definitely worth it. While I was trying to capture one of those astonishing views in my small camera, I realized that the camera battery was down. And to add to my woes I had not even got the charger. While I was fiddling around with my camera, Parul decided to walk up ahead. When I realized that there was no way I could get my camera to get working, I stood looking at the vast expanse in front of me, trying to soak in the "naturalness" of it all, and imprint the image on my mind. By the time I turned around Parul was no where in sight. I continued with the climb yet couldn't see her anywhere. It was turning dark; the light was changing becoming laden with shadow. The air was definitely getting a little nippier. Before we had embarked on our little adventure we were told that wild bison were seen frequenting this very mountain. I was in a dilemma - should I turn back or should I go forward in search of her. I started my descent, and told Santosh about Parul. After a wait for a few more minutes, Santosh set off in the jeep in search of her. After what seemed like aeons (during which time Satyen - the caretaker - also got a call from Santosh asking if Parul was back), we saw the jeep come back - and were more than relieved to see Parul in it. What a great start to the 4-day adventure!

As night fell, one could see stars glittering in a clear sky, we huddled around a campfire - some talked, some took a walk around the fire and some sat lost in one's own thoughts. Parul tried to teach me a few dance steps - one glitch though; she didn't realize that she was dealing with someone with two left feet! After a great dinner dished out by Satyen and the chefs, Parul and I crashed out for the night. Early morning, after a quick bath we made our way to Ooty to meet the rest of the junta joining us for the Mukurthi trek. At Ooty, we stopped at a restaurant for breakfast - the rest of the gang was to join us there. Dosas were had for breakfast, and little tottering around the market - especially in search of cameras and camera reels. The others joined us soon enough - 7 of them. After what seemed to be a longish wait (not really sure why), we finally made our way to our final destination.

Slowly we got out of the crowded streets of Ooty through winding roads, garbage dumps (did someone say Nilgiris were plastic-free?), meandering streams and on "seemingly dangerous" stony paths. And suddenly you were in the midst of a jungle - virgin forests smothered by misty horizons, waterfalls plunging into cool ravines. The four of us decided to walk to the campsite through the dense forests - the air started to become deliciously cool, the unique sounds of the forests lured us on and we continued in a leisurely, paced-out manner. And then there it was - the log cabin that would be "home" for the next couple of days. This was the Radcliffe Fishing Hut renamed so in memory of the great outdoors man to who the Nilgiris were indeed home. It was a beautiful cabin, surrounded by dense forests and a view of the mist-covered mountains in the horizon; one could hear the sounds of water gushing down the narrow gorges, and birds chirping around. I was particularly impressed by the timelessness, tranquility and serenity of the place. It seemed we had entered another time - away from the whirr of traffic, the cat race of day to day life, the insane working hours; this was like discovering life outside of office.

While the rest of the group chilled out on the patio - with dumb charades to break the ice, Parul and I decided to head off on another adventure of our own again; this time of course, with stern warning from Santosh that I shouldn't let Parul out of my sight. For obvious reasons. Our destination this time was a lake that we could see from the log cabin, way out in the horizon. We climbed downhill, off slippery slopes and through ferns and pine trees and finally reached the placid lake enveloped by mountains on every side. I looked out at the vast expanse of nature in front of me and felt overwhelmed by the view. As John Muir had said, "The whole wilderness seem to be alive and familiar, full of humanity. The very stones seem talkative, sympathetic and brotherly."

Post-lunch, with Kishore of Nilgiri Wildlife and Environment Association as our guide, the entire group headed out again for a small trek - through dense forests, and vast grasslands and slippery slopes we came to the other side of the lake again. Kishore regaled us with stories about the animals he had seen on these paths before, including a tiger swimming in the waters right in front of us. While we weren't really so lucky, the hope that we just might chance upon something did keep us going. The rest of the day we just chilled out in front of the fireplace - with great food dished out by James and Kishore, as well as Santosh. The log cabin was indeed a cosy hut with two bed rooms and attached toilets, fireplace, running water besides a spacious front room. One couldn't really have asked for more. As night descended, we spent a few hours on the patio as well - it was continuously raining, but the damp weather did little to dampen our spirits. In fact, it added to the mystic ambience of the place. In the dark, the entire place took on an air of peaceful solitude that one rarely experiences any more. All one could hear were the sounds of the forests - the rain water dripping down the trees, a few crickets somewhere in the dark, the gentle rustling of leaves as the breeze wafted through - this was a perfect escape from the clamour and tumult of everyday existence.

Next morning was the D-Day, the day of the trek, the reason why we were here. It had continued to rain through the night, and it was no different in the morning. Yet we set off - with our backpacks strapped to us, and an umbrella that doubled up as a walking stick. Again, Kishore was our guide and Dalip, who has been a trekker for a while now, led us from the back. It didn't seem so bad in the beginning; we went through to same route as the day before - the pine forests, the grasslands, and the lake. Finally, we reached a hill that had to be conquered before we could get to the "saddle". Here, we - Shreya and I - fell behind. Shreya was suffering from cramps, and for me, this was indeed the tough part of the entire trek. It was steep, slippery and I was constantly out of breath. Dalip and Anubhav kept prodding us – just another step, Dalip kept telling us, then we reach a platform; you can stop there if you can't go ahead. Little did we know at that time that the platform was never to come. The rest of the group had gone ahead with Kishore, and I pushed myself along - one step at a time.

Anubhav and Dalip were great - egging us along all through. So was Santosh, who joined us very soon. With each step one takes, especially faced with the harsh weather, the cold air and the steep mountain, one begins to realize one's own limitations. You think you are fit, but it takes a climb of this sort, I realized, to shed all your illusions. This was not just about discovering one's limits, but also about being able to conquer them and go beyond them. I can still see myself taking one slow step, stopping for a deep breath and then forcing another step, never once believing I can get to the end. As we reached the saddle, suddenly it seemed that this was all one could take - rain was lashing at the face, and the wind was howling in our ears, almost blowing us away. We stopped for a few minutes, with great difficulty. Santosh kept asking us if we wanted to go ahead or not. I wasn't sure; Anubhav went ahead with Nita. I looked around me, and at the path I had just treaded to get to where I was. If I could do that, I said to myself, I am sure I can push myself a little more. So, I went ahead, and very soon Santosh and Shreya followed us too.

To be honest, the final peak was much easier than what we expected. There was a minor aberration - while we were climbing up, we heard a voice from the mountains calling out to us, asking us where we were. We couldn't see anybody - the visibility was really low, and Santosh thought someone was trying to play a prank on us. Thankfully, we didn't ignore the voice - it turned out to be Kishore, one from our group, and he was almost lost. Was he glad to see us or what! Finally the last five of us climbed the peak - and once on the top, I realized it was a different feeling altogether. Even if you are gasping for air and the cool breeze almost makes you freeze, you feel so charged up, the physical-ness of it is indeed refreshing. You feel an uplifting open space feeling, similar to the openness of the desert; the silence and solitude of those peaks was almost like a balm to our tired muscles. I sat on a rock on top of the Mukurthi peak, took a quick look at the view around me (whatever one could see, given the incessant rain) and then a closer look at myself - why did I want to do this? Was it just to see if I could do it? If so, now that I know I can why did I know that I would come back again? Was it to spend time with myself and see if I am really who I think I am? Was it to discover my limits, push myself out of the comfort zone and see how far I could go? I had no answers - not then, not now.

The climb down was much easier; or just maybe, we knew what to expect. On our way back, the weather also cleared up a little and we were greeted with some magnificent views, images that you can only capture deep in your hearts and minds and not in any camera. Back in the log cabin, the rest of the time was spent chilling out - playing cards (I tried my level best to understand what was happening, but soon gave up), talking with one another or just in our own worlds. Next morning if the weather cleared the plan was to go to Western Catchments. That didn't happen - while it was a minor disappointment, it didn't take anything away from the trip itself.

As for me, I brought back a lot with me from this trip - it helped me readjust my sights, get out of my own narrow groove, climb above it and see wider horizons. And the group I went with just made it so much more fun and enjoyable. I am generally quite an introverted person - don't easily take to strangers. At one level this trip was also about that - despite all my apprehensions, I had a BLAST with this group that Santosh had got together. I haven't been around such a welcoming, interesting, funny group of people in a real long time. Strangers we were, but we fit right in. Santosh, of course, did not ever let us feel the pressure of having to organize something on this scale - even if we were at one level pushed out of our comfort zone, we were never made to feel uncomfortable. And that is what I realized I was taking away from this trip - meeting up with some really great people and a deep insight into oneself. I know I would do this again. And I hope that with every trip and every new person I meet I am stretched and made uncomfortable, and forced to deal with people and situations I wouldn't choose on my own. That is what Mukurthi Peak trek did to me - "I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now I can see".

Note: This trip happened from May 25 to May 28. I got a chance to write about it only now. Photographs to come...