When the Jungles Come Alive

Have you ever watched a hunt in progress? When the predator patiently stalks its prey, crouches low, until the final spring that usually spells certain death for the hunted? If you have, then you must consider yourself among the lucky few. As for me, I haven't had the fortune of watching a tiger or its smaller cousin, the leopard, in action. Although I have witnessed a dhole (commonly referred to as the Asiatic Wild Dog) feeding on fresh kill.

Native to South and South East Asia, this unique species of carnivore are often dismissed and trivialized as “only wild dogs” when discussing some of the fiercest creatures that walk the jungles today. I beg to differ. If you have watched one of them tearing away at a deer's throat, you'll most certainly agree with me. Highly social, dholes usually hunt in large packs, killing their prey very painfully by disembowelling them and biting off huge chunks, even while poor animal is alive. They don't even spare the mighty tiger when confronted, although most choose to stay away from tigers, unless they're in packs of 20 and see no choice but to bring the tiger down.

The one we encountered while on a safari in Biligiriranga Hills or B R Hills had slunk away from its pack. Slightly bigger than the average city mongrel, this wild dog had something large in its jaws, and was having considerable trouble dragging the dead animal, which appeared to twitch from time to time. We stopped our jeep and waited in complete silence, until it came into full view. Like most wild animals, I expected this one to turn tail and disappear into the forest as soon as it saw humans. This dhole did anything but run. It stood still and stared at us for a few seconds before deciding to begin its meal right there!

We watched in fascination as it hungrily tore away at the young spotted deer's throat, before proceeding to rip off large chunks from its flank. I'd never seen anything quite like this, except for the deer carcass I once saw abandoned by a large jungle cat in Bandipur. You can usually smell it before you see it. Anyway, coming back to our lone dhole, after about 10 minutes, it decided it had had enough of the audience, and proceed to enjoy what was left of his meal in peace. Dragging the remains, it melted into the forest, even as our cameras silently clicked away.

Supremely satisfied with the fruitful morning safari, I decided to get some shut eye after breakfast, considering there wasn't much to do until half past three. Later in the evening, after gulping down steaming cups of tea, my husband and I hopped onto the safari jeep that was waiting for us. In the second jeep, that was to follow us at a distance, were a group of rather noisy, brightly dressed boys and girls.

The jeeps rumbled on. Stopping at regular intervals, the bored driver waited patiently as the cameras went into overdrive. Spotted deer, sambar, and beautiful birds in various shapes, sizes and colors, the jungle was full of them. But the best was yet to come. Before I tell you what that is, it's important that I explain the topography of this forest, especially the core area. Located at an altitude of 5,091 feet, the B R Hills Wildlife Sanctuary comprises of dense, lush green forests. On one side of the jungle path is the forest, while on the other is a sloping drop. Our jeep traversed slowly along the narrow jungle path.

All at once, a 'swish' sound brought us to an abrupt halt. At first I couldn't see anything, just the trees and shrubs swaying gently in the wind. Suddenly a shrill trumpet startled all of us, and before we could react, a large female elephant came rushing towards the driver's side. Her trunk was raised, her tail high up in the air, and she certainly looked like she meant business. Then the driver, also our guide, did something that truly worried me; he turned off the engine. My mouth agape, I stared at him in shock!

He turned around and motioned us to stay silent. My throat was dry and my voice had long abandoned me anyway. So screaming was out of the question. We were as still as a rock.

Meanwhile, the elephant in question had retreated a few feet, before she repeated the same thing. As she rushed towards us once more, kicking up a cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of her calf standing a few feet away. Protected by another female, the poor calf looked absolutely petrified. It made sense now; she was worried for her baby. Her mock charge meant she was gauging the level of threat that we posed, and by not reacting or moving, we wanted to show that we meant no harm. This back and forth mock charge lasted for almost 10 minutes, during which my husband continued taking pictures. As for me, I was absolutely terrified, considering the elephant sometimes came within touching distance of the jeep.

All the while, the folks in the second vehicle watched us from a safe distance. The young mother finally disappeared behind the trees, and our jeep started to move. Heaving a sigh of relief I turned to look back at the other jeep. It was not over yet. The angry pachyderm emerged from behind the cover of the trees and proceed to display the same behavior, trumpeting shrilly and rushing towards jeep #2. Unfortunately, one of the women, dressed in bright yellow, started to scream bloody murder the moment she spied the elephant. That did it. No more mock charges...it was time for the real thing. Trunk down, ears flapping wildly, the angry animal rushed in mad fury towards the jeep. The hysterical girl was now sobbing loudly, and there was nothing we could do.

The driver in their jeep, displaying great presence of mind, realized that one nudge and their vehicle would go toppling down the slope. Stepping on the pedal, he drove as fast as the rocky terrain would allow. It was a sight to behold. Our jeep in front, the other jeep following us, and one temperamental beast giving a hot chase! The madness lasted for around 15 minutes, before our pursuer decided it had had enough. We managed to reach our resort without further incident. The lady of course, was shaking like a leaf!

As for us, well, we couldn't wait to go again. Who knows what it might be this time? A predator concealed in the shadows? Langur monkeys hanging from tall trees, ever alert for tigers and leopards? Perhaps a herd of elephants if we got lucky? With the jungles, one can never tell!

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: Although there are plenty of options in Chamrajanagar, none of these allow safaris, except for the ones offered by the government, which are a waste of time. If a jeep safari is on your mind, then the only option you have is Jungle Lodges and Resorts. A word of caution though, Jungle Lodges is going to burn a large hole in your pocket! Go only if you're okay with mediocre food, but awesome safari, for the exorbitant price.

When to Go: The sanctuary is open throughout the year, although the monsoon season is best avoided. Try planning a visit between October and May.

What to Do: Safari, safari and more safari! You can also try visiting the Biligiri Ranganathaswamy Temple, which is believed to be over 200 years old.

How to Get There: You can either take the Bangalore – Kankapura – Malavalli - Kollegal – Yelendur- B R Hills route, or try the Bangalore – Mysore – Chamrajanagar - B R Hills stretch. Watch out for wildlife en-route, especially lone tuskers and elephant herds. Distance varies between 181- 200 kilometers depending on the route you take.

Access'd Ooty

When she came into our lives sometime in the middle of 2010, we had no idea we'd take her on her first vacation so soon. But it just seemed so wrong to leave her behind, all alone, waiting for us to come home. So we took her along, on what turned out to be one of our most memorable trips so far.

I don't suppose you know what I'm talking about. It is our very own, 125 cc, stylish, Suzuki Access. Boasting a 4-stroke engine, and looking resplendent in black, the dealership fella called it the “perfect scooter for city use”. Little did he know that we had other plans for her!

A misty Saturday morning sometime in January 2011, my husband and I found ourselves heading to Ooty. Considering we'd not been married for long, money was a little tight, so this was going to be an overnight trip. A small backpack with a change of clothes and some water, that's pretty much all we needed. I'm going to leave out the mundane details of the Bangalore to Mysore stretch. The heavy traffic, suicidal cows jumping in the middle of the highway at regular intervals, and the innumerable coffee-houses, always make me feel like I've never left the city.

The awfully dull Mysore highway behind us, we crossed Gundlupet without incident. This, I believe, was when the real fun started. Considering we were now officially in the Bandipur Tiger Reserve limits, I really wonder how this narrative would have panned out if we'd had a flat. But we had other things to worry about, such as the forest officer at the Karnataka- Tamil Nadu check-post. He stopped us and stared suspiciously before asking me to take off my helmet.

"Madam, is he forcing you into this lunacy?" he enquired.

I was amused, at the same time touched by his concern. I told him I was fine and a willing participant to what he clearly thought was madness.

"Sir, why are you taking your wife to Ooty on a scooter? There are plenty of buses and cabs. This isn't even a powerful motorcycle!" he exclaimed.

It took some convincing before he bid us adieu, still shaking his head and muttering as we resumed our journey.

Nestled in the foothills of the Nilgiris and melting into the Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary on one side and the Nagarhole National Park on the other, these jungles are part of the Nilgiri Bio Reserve. Despite efforts to prevent poaching and protect what remains today of the fauna, I fear that the generation after us will not enjoy the beauty of these beautiful, but rapidly depleting, forests of South India. At the risk of digressing, let me add that Bandipur was once a private hunting reserve for the Maharaja of Mysore, before it was established as a tiger reserve in 1974.

Back to where we were, it was just beyond the 'Safari point' in Bandipur when we came across the first herd of elephants. Elephants, when in a herd, are almost always peaceful and don't molest human beings. It is the lone tusker, especially one in the state of Musth, that you should worry about. Those fellows are best left to themselves. Anyway, coming back to our pachyderm family. They regarded us with mild curiosity and continued munching on the succulent bamboo that grows aplenty in these jungles. I imagined one of the little ones even went “slurp” before licking his lips with satisfaction!

The herd let us pass.

The next challenge came when we reached the 'safari point' at Mudumalai. Here we had the option of either continuing straight towards Masinagudi and taking the Kalhatti road, or turning right towards Gudlur. The Gudlur road is, undoubtedly, the most scenic, with the Moyar river serenely flowing on one side, while Kalhatti (which literally means 'steep ghat') comprises of 36 hairpin bends. Although I had immense faith on our Access, let's face it, negotiating 36 hairpin bends on a scooter is like trying to thread a needle with a rope! The engine would most certainly seize. So the obvious choice, and a wise one, was the Gudlur road. The extra two hours that we took to reach Ooty from the safari point made us realize how sturdy our 'city' scooter was. Pushed to its limit, sometimes by the wide craters on what must have once resembled a road, and sometimes by the buses and larger cars that simply whizzed past with little regard for our humble steed, she was one resilient workhorse.

As for us, well, I'd be lying if I said that we felt like James Bond who somehow managed to get out of diciest situations without a hair out of place. When we reached our destination, an old British Bunglow converted to a B&B, all we wanted was a hot bath, a steaming cup of tea and a warm bed. Before that, however, we had a very curious hotel manager to convince that we'd actually covered nearly 300 kilometers on a Suzuki Access. "Saar, where did you rent this in Ooty?" he enquired, without checking the Karnataka registration.

"It belongs to us," my husband replied.

The flummoxed chap walked out, peered at the registration number and then looked at our exhausted faces.

The "why" was written all over his face. But he restrained himself and showed us to our room.

I can't even begin to describe how tired we were. Our backs ached, our muscles were sore and despite the helmets, dirt covered our faces. But for all it's worth, I know we'll do it all over again.

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: Plenty of options available, depending on your budget. You could either try Kings Cliff if your purse strings aren't too tight, or the likes of Woodberry resorts or I-India if a budget vacation is on your mind.

When to Go: Whenever your heart desires. Ooty is one of those round-the-year destinations. That said, April to June or September to November are considered to be the best times to visit.

What to Do: I'd give the botanical garden and the lake a pass; they're too touristy and crowded for me. Long walks along the winding roads and the train ride to Coonoor should be in your 'to-do' list.

How to Get There: If you're in a car or on a motorcycle, you could either take the Bangalore- Mysore- Gundlupet - Bandipur- Gudlur- Ooty route or the Bangalore- Mysore- Gundlupet - Bandipur- Masinagudi-Kalhatti- Ooty road. Amateur drivers and scooterists are better off taking the Gudlur Road.