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A very tiring trek at Bababudan Range - 31 May, 01 Jun 2003
For quite sometime, I had been thinking about trekking to Mullayana Giri, the highest point in Karnataka (~6000ft), and Bababudan hills. The Bababudan hill range is a wide and high mountain range stretching east to west, and adjacent to the Bhadra tiger reserve and Muthodi forests. The hill range occurs at high altitudes, mostly above 4500ft.
The small hill station Kemmanagundi also falls adjacent to this mountain range. While Mullayanagiri peak is to the south of the BabaBudan mountain range, Kemmanagundi is in its north. The whole range occurs in Chikmagalur district of Karnataka. The trekking trail, from Chikmagalur to Mullayanagiri, Mullayanagiri to Bababudangiri, and Bababudangiri to Kemmanagundi, is a popular one, and is a three-day affair. I decided to attempt it in two days' time, over a weekend.
On 30th May, Friday, I boarded a bus at the Majestic bus stand at Bangalore, bound for Chikmagalur. The bus started off at 9.45pm, and the fare to Chikmagalur was 97 Rupees. The driver didn't seem to mind the comfort of the passengers at all, and was handling the bus like a rally jeep, his only intention being to reach Chikmagalur, and nothing else. After a very bumpy ride, through which I managed to take some naps, I reached Chikmagalur bus stand at 3am. However, had to wait till 5pm to catch the bus that will drop me at Sarpahadi, from where the trek is to commence. This information I had gleaned from a veteran trekker at Bangalore. I was dropped off at Sarpahadi at 6AM, as the sun was rising in the east. Sarpahadi is no village or town, just the name of a place. There was no soul at sight, and only a lone metal arch announced the beginning of the trekking trail, winding up the mountain on the left side of the road. The mountain fell steeply on my right, and a couple of farmhouses dotted the plains, amidst thick canopy of tall trees. I started to climb up the trail, and after 30 minutes, the trail vanished. I didn't know which side to go up the mountain, and kept going on the shoulder of the mountain. At some places, went in and out of small shoals. Sholas are dense tree jungle that occur in the folds of mountains, or in the valleys. Whereas the mountain slopes are open land with grass and shrubs, the shoals will be densely wooded. Sholas occur at high altitudes.
After two hours of beating around the bush, I realized that I'm lost. Then I saw a trekking party in bright clothes, combing their way up the mountain, behind me. They were very far away from me, and seemed to come in my direction. I then assumed that the path I was on the correct path, and slowly went forward. Then, after sometime I found that these guys weren't coming in direction, along the shoulder of the hill, but were going uphill. As I watched, they went up, up, over the top of the hill, and vanished the other side. Now I understood that I am completely in the wrong direction. So I decided to climb uphill from where I was. But that proved to be impossible, as very steep rocky mountain top faced me. I kept trying different approaches to climb it, and at last found an approach that could be tackled. However it proved to be a very tough affair, for the hill was very steeply going up, and I did it in all fours, crawling, catching grassroots, rocks, and heaving myself up. After much exertion I managed to reach the hilltop, only to find that Mullayanagiri lay in front of me, and at another 800 ft above me. And a big shola lay between the Mullayanagiri hill and the hilltop I was at. Sitting down, I had the biscuits I had brought along, and a lot of water. From here, I watched the trekking party make their way up, to the Mullayanagiri temple, which was visible from where I was sitting now. The wind was strong and pleasant, and I spent around 15 minutes sitting here, thinking how to cross the shola. Then I found that at the upper end of the shola the mountain was open land, and boulder strewn, and connected to the Mullayanagiri hill. I decided to approach it this way, and getting up, starting the trek again. This again, was difficult due to the steepness, and breathing heavily, I trudged slowly up, and after 30-40 minutes, reached the temple. The trekking party was there, relaxing, and preparing their breakfast. They were from Mysore, and were moving to Bababudan the next day. On compulsion, I joined them in the brunch, comprising of noodles.
Mullayanagiri peak is the highest point in Karnataka, and is rougly 6000ft above MSL. A small temple is situated here, as is with many other mountains and peaks in India. The pujari and his family live here. A great view of the Bababudan mountain range can be had from here, and the Bababudan range stretched out as a never ending continuous stretch of rocky mountains. From here, we were able to see a microwave repeater tower, much farther away, atop a big mountain. I was told that Bababudangiri occurred near that tower. It looked roughly some 10km trek. So bidding adieu to the party, I continued on my trek, intent on reaching Bababudan for the night. Leaving Mullayanagiri, the trekking trail is very clear, and goes up and down mountains, past shoals towards Bababudangiri. I left Mullayanagiri at 11am, and after an hour or so, came upon a forest checkpost on a motor road. This motor road, as I had seen while coming down from Mullayanagiri, came up from the right, winding through the mountains, and goes to Bababudangiri. The trekking trail crosses this motor road at the forest checkpost. The trek had been hot, for the monsoon was late this year. Weary and dry, I sat down at the small shelter at this point, for a drink. Three workers were standing there, and I learnt that they were tamilians working at an estate in the valley below. As is with many people living in remote areas, they were very lively, and kind. We had a nice chat, and learnt much about each other. They also invited me to the estate for spending the night. However, I had to proceed, and a long way to go, so bidding them goodbye, I crossed the motor road, and took up the trek trail on the other side. From here, the trail climbed up to the ridge of the mountain, and is then lost. The mountain ridge is very rocky, and hence the trail cannot be very clear. The mountain ridge occurred at a high altitude, and while at the right side there was an almost perpendicular rocky drop into a huge valley thousands of feet below, the left side was more of a slope, and stretched to other hills. The motor road was visible on this side, as it wound through the open mountains, to disappear farther away around a hill.
A very strong wind was blowing uphill from the left side, and was strong enough to topple one off balance. Much care was required, as I negotiated the huge rocks and boulders on the ridge. Suddenly I found that the tower station, my target, was nowhere in sight. Only a very vast mountain, and another higher one loomed further ahead of me. On instinct, I kept to the ridge, sometimes on the right side, sometimes on the left, and kept going. The trek grew hotter, and the breeze helped cool me. The ridge, eventually, became less rocky, and the trail was now a little visible at places. Crossing the upper edge of a couple of shoals, I then came upon another huge mountain, almost seemingly as high as Mullayanagiri. Again, a difficult and slow climb up this mountain, and then, at the top, I again saw the tower station again. It was still much farther away, and a great span of mountains lay between my target and me. The tower station was also on another very high mountain peak. Again, after intermittent rests, I trudged along, and after much difficulty, reached the shoulder of the hill on which the tower was. The tower was approximately 400 feet directly above me. But the hill was very steep, at around 60 or 70 degrees, and footholds were not strong, as the loose soil gave up. With much care, crawling on all fours, my hands now serving me as never before, where a slip or fall would mean that I will go tumbling down steeply and fall thousands of feet into the valley down, I slowly managed to reach the tower station at 3pm.
The tower station has a compound, and going around, opening the unlocked gate, entered it. I didn't find anybody there, so I just went behind to the shade, and lied down. Then the watchman came up and enquired, and found that I was just another weary traveler, the only strange thing being my coming alone over those tough mountains. I learnt that he had been at the police check post a little away from the tower, which I hadn't seen. I filled up the water bottle with the water he gave me, and we had some chat. I learnt that he works in shifts, with a couple of other men to guard this 20-year-old tower station. A police ASI is also stationed at the police outpost, that isn't very clearly visible from the tower, but only a little distance away, down the slope. After gleaning information from him about the exact point where Bababudangiri is situated - which is approximately 3 kms straight ahead of us, behind the small hill in front of us. He also gave me directions to Manikyadhara, a small water fall, to our right, down the hill, some 3 km away. Departing from him, I slowly walked down the hill, towards Manikyadhara. The trail I was taking eventually joined the wider mud road coming from left - Bababudangiri - and going to Manikyadhara.
Manikyadhara is one of those badly spoilt places on earth, by human beings. There were tea stalls, small petty shops selling all kinds of herbs and oils. There were tourists, men women and children. A flight of stone steps took me down to the actual waterfall - some water trickling down a big root hanging from above, some 50 feet up. Maybe there would be more water during the rains. Our people have the habit of littering any place they go, happily throwing away the shampoo covers, water bottles, waste clothes, plastic covers, cartons, soap covers, et cetera. To our people, the men and women of our society, apart from the rooms of their home, all other places in the world can be used as a garbage dump yard, and one has the right to throw whatever he wants wherever he feels like. What is more troubling is, the children are also brought up that way. The father spits on this side of the road, the son seeing it, spits on the other side. The mother throws the garbage out of her compound, the daughter is sure to follow. Another generation, that will continue the habit of littering. However, the Day of Judgment may no be far away, friends. I left the place, with a lump in my throat.
It was around 5.30pm when I reached Bababudan giri. Whoever saint Baba Budan was, he has ensured that this once beautiful place is spoilt. Bababudan giri is one hell of a place. Nesting amidst mountains, the place has a durgah(mosque), and attracts tourists and pilgrims. And as is with our people, the leave the place, making it worse than it previously was - leave alone making it better. The adjacent hill was being used as an open air toilet, and the place was having a foul smell. No wonder, the hindu priest at Mullayanagiri, who doesn't allow anybody with footwear into his compound, said that Bababudangiri is a filthy place. I don't know if he said it because it was a muslim place, but he was right.
I had some food at the small hotel there, and talking to the waiter there, obtained information about the direction and distance to Kemmannagundi. I didn't want to stay at Bababudangiri, and thought that the night could be spent at the tower station. So leaving the place, I again slowly walked up the hill to the power station. It was around 6pm, and the sun was near setting, when I reached the police check post, a little distance before the tower. But the ASI there turned down my pleas for permission to stay the night there. He cited rules and that it was a government holding and not a rest house. I was disappointed, and turned back. Walking slowly, I was wondering where to stay, and looking around. As usual, the Guardian Angels were at work, and I wouldn't have gone far, when the watchman came down behind me and asked me to come with him. I went back with him to the ASI, who had by now changed his mind. He told me that I can stay the night inside the tower station, along with the watchman.
We chatted, for sometime, as I watched the distant sun, now a beautiful red ball, sinking in the horizon, filling the western sky with red streaks. We also watched some mountain goats far away on the opposite mountains, behind the check post, which I had passed during the day. The ASI was working out of the Chikmagalur control room, and belonged to Bangalore. He seemed to be a good man, working the hard way. He also confessed that spending more than 2 - 3 nights alone in the check post was very difficult, and that he and his colleague worked in shifts, going down to Chikmagalur every two days. Also there was no water supply here, hence water was being brought up by jeep once a week. It was a very rough place to live, evidently. The wind had by now become cold, and I had started shivering. Nights are very cold here, even in summer. It will be at its worst during rains and winter. A tiger or two does visit the tower station occasionally, from the nearby Bhadra tiger reserve.
As it started becoming dark, the watchman and myself left the ASI, and walked up to the tower station. The tower station was massive, strong and well guarded. It had a series of three iron doors to the engine and battery rooms. We talked for a long time, then the watchman cooked rice and heated the sambar. After supper, I slept on one of the two cots in the battery room. I had a peaceful sleep that night, and will be long remembered.
The next morning, after two cups of hot tea helped ease the soul, we came down to the check post. The ASI was having brisk walks up and down the road, and seeing us, came up to us. After greeting, he kindly enquired about my stay and convenience. I was more than happy, and after thanking him for such kindness, I bid adieu to them. They also came down a little distance along the road, with me.
After 30 minutes, I again came to Bababudangiri. After a breakfast of idlis and egg, I left the place, filling up my water bottles and packing three bananas. My next destination was Kemmannagundi, a small hill station some 20 kilometres away. For a couple of kilometers the path is a wide mud road, which is used by the tourists to visit Gallikere on the way. A couple of vehicles passed me, kicking up the dust, on their way to Gallikere. Gallikere was yet another pond, polluted by the tourists. The water was almost murky. Some were washing clothes, others were dipping their feet in the cold water, while others were picknicking near by. I sat for sometime, watching them, and then left the place. After Gallikete, the path is a barely visible trail that went up the mountain and into the otherside of the hills. There were very tall poles that had been erected on top of some hills, for sensing windspeed. I had been instructed to keep these poles as landmarks and proceed in their direction. After the first pole, the trail was very clear, and for a couple of hours it went along the shoulder of hills, with a deep and vast valley on my left and the hills on my right. At places, the trail wound in and out of dense shoals, and I had to keep my penknife in my hand as I navigated these sholas. I wasn't afraid of any animal, except the bear. There were no elephants here, and the tigers will shy away at my approach, if I don't surprise them. The bears are the ones I feared, who are ugly customers even at the best of times.
By around noon, I came upon a very nice stream in a shola. There was plenty of flowing water, and there was a water hole, some 10 feet long and 8 feet wide. Water was flowing into this from one side, and moving down the shola on the other side. After confirming that there were no snakes and no danger in getting into the water, I had a good bath in what appeared to be my own bathtub. The water was chest high, and crystal clear. The bath rejuvenated me, and my soul was at peace. There was not a human in sight, and only vast mountains and slopes all around me. I spent around 30 minutes here, bathing and enjoying myself. After the sun and the breeze had given me a warm blow dry, and dressed up, and after eating the bananas and a drink, I left the place, to proceed further towards Kemmannagundi. It was 1pm by now, and I was opining that my target wouldn't be too far away. From the stream, the trail went up a hill for sometime, and I eventually lost it. I scouted around for sometime, but didn't know which direction to take. There were only many mountains ahead of me, and not a soul in sight.
As I was thus wondering what to do now, the Guardian Angels came to my rescue once again. Suddenly I saw two men coming from my right side. I learnt from them that they were going from pole to pole to take readings from the meter, regarding wind speed, etc. The government was actually proposing to install windmills here, and was taking samples of the wind speed. The men, though at first felt strange that I am alone, eventually became friendly, and took me with them on a short cut, to the next pole. After a very exhausting climb up one of the hills, I relaxed while they climbed up the pole and took readings. Then they showed me another pole, much farther away, and said we have to go up to that pole, from where I will have to go left towards Kemmannagundi 2 hours from there, while they went right to their village 1 hour away. That pole, they said, was 1.5 hours from here. So, off we went. The men were fast, and I had to go faster than my usual pace to keep up. Going up and down hills, through sholas, crossing small streams, and winding along shoulder of hills, and breathing heavily while climbing up hills, we trudged along for 45 minutes, chatting lightly. One of them was a keralite while another was kannadiga. We reached another good stream, where the men stopped to have lunch. I was compelled, and partook of their lunch, comprising of chappathis and a packet of biscuits. We spent some 30 minutes there, and at around 2.30pm, left the place. At around 3pm, we reached a point where we had to part. The men had to go up the hill immediately before us to the pole atop, and then right downhill to their village, santhavareddy, an hour's walk away. I am to climb up the big mountain to our left, on the top of which there was a very big shola. I was told that from atop that mountain, I would be able to see Kemmannagundi, but a huge shola was inbetween. They also told that it is not possible to navigate through the shola without a guide, and that once they had tried, and then failed to get through and only returned. They also mentioned about a big trekking party, which, after not being able to cross the shola, returned to santhavareddy. I told them that I will give it a try, and if I found that it was impossible, I will retreat and come to Santhavareddy from where I can take a bus to Birur, and then to Bangalore. After bidding them adieu, I went on a fast march up the mountain towards the top. I reached the top, and indeed, was able to see Kemmannagundi - a locality - on top of a hill on the opposite side - but at a lesser height than the one I was on. But between us was a very dense shola.
Here it was. The final round. The trail entered the shola, and then immediately disappeared. Because trails are not visible inside such canopy. The ground was covered with rotting foliage, twigs, leaves etc. I scouted around, but couldn't find a way, so hurriedly came out and back to the top of the hill. Standing there, I drew up plans - to keep trying upto 4 pm, and if nothing turns up by then, to retreat, and march fast to Santhavareddy, which I'm sure, is around 2 hours from here. I entered the shola from another side, and went into the foliage. Again no trails, and I just kept going in the direction where Kemmannagundi was. Looking up, I couldn't see the sky, but only the dense cover. It was also darker inside. I kept going, on what appeared to be very rough maneuver, where only animals can go. At places I fell, and somehow reached a point where a stream was flowing. I had no idea where I was, and I also lost sense of direction. All around me there was only dense jungle, and the sound of birds and insects. It was 4pm now, and I was hopelessly lost. I didn't even know which way to go back, to reach the point I had entered the shola. However, time cannot be wasted, standing like this, and after deciding to keep scouting, and if unsuccessful by nightfall to stay on a suitable tree, I went around again. Thorns tore my shirt at many places, and mud entered my shoes, but I had to keep going. From the stream, the hill went up, and I thought by going uphill, we might get somewhere, so I started climbing up through the plants and dry foliage. At one point some animal darted away crashing through the plants, but I didn't see it. I guess it was a mountain goat or a deer. Almost all through this, I was mostly on my fours, crawling through the plants, where only an animal can penetrate. I was actually moving like an animal, on four legs. Pushing through the foliage, I kept climbing up, as the canopy above became less dense. At one point, looking up, I noticed a red clayed wall of a hill top, without any growth on it, and decided to climb up to it, and find out which direction to proceed again. Again, pushing through the undergrowth, I came up on open, and as the hill was very steep at around 70 degrees, crawled up slowly, step by step, to reach the top. Reaching the top, I was more than gladdened to see that I had actually come in the right direction, and had climbed up the hill on which Kemmannagundi was. I the point I now was, there was a jeep track that was going towards kemmannagundi, coming from somewhere else.
It was 4.45pm. I sat there on the edge, looking down at the shola I had just crossed, and at the opposite hill from where it began. This last round of the game had very nearly been won by Nature. It fully tested my guts, strength and endurance. I also realized how harsh Nature could be, and how weakly equipped we were, in facing the harshness. The game was over, and had been enjoyed fully. Nature had also taught me a couple of lessons here and there. Again full credit goes to the Guardian Angels, for ensuring that I didn't stumble upon a sleeping bear, or face a deadly snake inside the shola. I am tempted to imagine what deadly things could have happened to me deep inside that shola, but I comfort myself that, beyond all our understandings, and all our thoughts, there is the Hand of the Divine. That Hand had been with me.
I got up, changed my shirt, and went along the jeep track towards Kemmannagundi. It was a small hill station atop a small hill, overlooking vast valleys of the Muthodi forests and Bhadra tiger reserve. There was a park that I passed, and clean neat people were picknicking with families and friends, and looked surprised to see a disheveled guy in dirty clothes and a rucksack on his back walk past them. I found out that I had to go to Kalhatipura, 12 kms away to find any bus to Tarikere, from where I am to take a bus to Bangalore. A very crowded jeep ride to Kalhatipura, and then another bus ride took me to Tarikere. Tarikere is directly on the Bangalore Shimoga route, and Shimoga was only around 50kms away. I enquired at the railway staion there, but the next train to Bangalore was only at 11.45pm. I waited at the bus stop for sometime. Fortunately a Bangalore bound bus came by, and I managed to get a seat. A seemingly never ending journey to Bangalore, with supper somewhere en route. I slept through the trip, and was in Bangalore at 1AM. My bike was there to receive me, and we together reached my room at 1.45pm. And I collapsed for some sleep. And there ends this piece of travel.
Postscript: The Second day's trek, covering around 20 kilometers, is one of the best trekking trails in Karnataka. I will not attempt that shola crossing again, but if someone knows a route exists through the shola, please let me know. I would love to do it again sometime later.
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