A Boat ride in Bhadra

The rain pelted the windscreen as we drove on, determined to make it in time for some hot lunch and rest. We were driving down from Jog Falls to a resort by the Bhadra River and were exhausted by the journey that took longer than expected. This was because of a large tree that came crashing down en route, just before our car passed. We thanked Providence and prepared for a long wait until the branches were sawed off and the road cleared. All the while, I alternated between admiring the lush vegetation and cringing at the sight of some enterprising travelers emptying their bursting bladders on either side of the road.

The harrowing journey was far from over. We were nearly there but had one last, and rather unexpected stretch to negotiate. A left here and a right there, and soon we found ourselves on a what resembled a bridge across the Lakkavalli Dam. Nearly 250 meters of brown slush, followed by a steep, muddy incline separated us from the resort. I stared at the mess in disbelief, convinced that our 14-year-old sedan wasn’t up to the challenge. To make matters worse, it started to rain once again, hampering visibility and rendering the task almost impossible.

“Isn’t there another way to get there,?” I asked my husband.

He shook his head and urged me to get moving before the weather changed from bad to worse. I took a deep breath, shifted the stick into first and attempted to drive through the muck.  Every time I pressed the gas pedal, I could feel the car shimmy and slide a couple of inches. Finally, ten minutes, numerous attempts and a very dirty car later, we were on the asphalt, albeit pockmarked road once again, the signs welcoming us to the resort. 

Why in heaven's name did we make travel plans in the monsoon, I don’t know. Although, we did manage to strike Jog Falls off our “must visit” list. I thought that the journey so far was rather adventurous; and how mistaken was I, for the adventure, and a rather unpleasant one was right around the corner.

It was a dull morning, the sky laden with angry, grey clouds when we hopped onto the motorboat for a boat safari. My fear of rivers ( read my blog, The River Rafting Misadventure), coupled with the crabby mood brought on by the depressing weather meant we were off to an inauspicious start. 

Osprey

There were eight other people on the boat, including the boatman and the naturalist, as we sailed down the monstrous Bhadravati river. The water seemed mildly turbulent when we set off and I tried to convince myself that I simply had to get over this fear, and this was a good time to start.

The boat swayed mildly as the wind picked up speed. I looked at the faces of the other occupants, and much to my chagrin, I seemed to be the only one on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The others were enjoying the rise and fall of the boat, and my husband, well, he was busy photographing the River Terns and Ospreys perched on the dead trees. I was too nervous to pick up my camera, sure that I’d drop it into the water.  An uneventful 30 minutes followed and I finally began to relax, even managing to get some good shots of Cormorants and an occasional Oriental Darter.

A little drizzle, followed by strong breeze rendered any attempts to photograph the birds useless. I sat down, hoping the drizzle would slacken. This, of course, was not to be, as it was no longer drizzling. The rain came down in full force, the sheets of cold water painfully jabbing my arm.

The boatman, who figured the downpour would abate in a couple of minutes, started the motor, proceeding at full speed. The vast river assumed the color of lead, the angry, grey waves tossing the boat up and down like a ping pong ball. My nervousness developed into full-blown panic, as I watched the boatman struggling to steer against the howling wind. I observed the anxious expressions around me, including my husband’s.  His grim appearance and quiet demeanor told me all I needed to know. If we didn’t turn around now, we were going to be in a lot of trouble. 

“Splat!” went the boat, as the boatman tried his best to turn around and head back to camp. Battling against the furious winds and torrential rains requires a certain level of skill and composure, something I prayed the boatman possessed. One of the women onboard had her head bowed down either in prayer or in fear, I wasn’t sure. She gripped the steel rod on the sides so tightly her hands seemed to turn grey. Once again, I found myself at the mercy of a river. That’s when I vowed I’d not set foot inside a boat, no matter how calm or serene the water appeared...if we managed to get out of this pickle in one piece first. 

“We’re heading back now due to the sudden change in weather,” announced the naturalist to a rather distressed audience.

“About time,” I heard my husband mumble under his breath.

The boat titled precariously as the motor propelled us forward, engaged in a fierce battle with mother nature. The helplessness of the situation dawned on all of us and I’m certain that we were praying for the same thing at that moment; to feel the ground beneath our feet. I could barely see ahead, so heavy was the downpour so I cannot imagine how the boatman finally managed to maneuver through the choppy waters. Steering deftly, he managed to get the boat, which was dangerously bobbing up and down, to the safety of the shore.

The adrenaline rush ebbed and I found myself shivering violently as my husband helped me get off, the relief apparent on his pasty white face. Some of the guests laughed nervously, while one lady simply threw up as the shock wore off. Needless to say, we were humbled by the fury of nature. 

The nightmare sometimes returns to haunt me, and I find myself slowing down instinctively when I drive over bridges or looking away when the airplane flies over a waterbody.

That said, there’s something that hair-raising situations often do to you. Once they pass and you manage to get out unscathed, you feel absolutely alive! I suppose that’s what drives the adrenaline junkies to lust after danger; the reawakening of the senses and that compulsive desire for adventure.

800 Kilometers and One Bike: Part I

After a 600 something kilometer (two way) trip to Ooty on a gearless scooter, we’d just not had enough. We longed for something more, something different from the usual car trips we took. So, we decided it was time for the Honda Unicorn to make its debut. This time we zeroed in on the Bhadravati-Chikmagalur- Kudremukh belt, in 5 days.

The Unicorn was longing to stretch its legs and so were we; although, the first 100 kilometers later we realized that there wasn’t much leg-stretching for us. A fully loaded petrol tank, and a fully loaded backpack later (oh what a dumb thing to do!) we were off on a crisp October morning. This was to be the first 270 kilometers of our journey where via Tumkur,- Arasikere- Kadur – Birur – Tarikere, and finally Bhadravati, where we planned on staying the night at Jungle Lodge’s River Tern resorts. The roads were great, and the weather perfect. Our loyal steed devoured the distance hungrily.

Our first and only break, Café Coffee Day near Arsikere. Hunger was the least of my problems. I was paying for my lack of common sense. Instead of using saddle bags as is the norm, I was carrying a massive backpack, and the strain from the excessive weight started to show. My shoulders hurt, and my lower back felt numb. It served me right, I suppose, for not doing my homework and going with the decision to carry loads of clothes, and other knick-knacks on my back.

But the excitement of the trip, a strong coffee and some stale sandwiches later, I felt much better and was rearing to go. The route was simply picturesque, with beautiful sunflower and paddy fields, and clear blue skies to keep us company. The unpolluted air and sparse traffic was a refreshing change after battling peak hour traffic every day in Bangalore. The rest of the journey was uneventful, barring a small potholed stretch just before the Lakkavalli Dam.

The River Tern property is one of Jungle Lodge’s best, albeit expensive, ones. Overlooking the Bhadravathi River, you can either choose to stay in the cottages nearest to the "gol ghar", where the food is served or in one of the cottages on an island. We choose the latter. I'm not going to dwell too much on how our stay at Jungle Lodges was or the details of the Jeep and boat safari. But I must stress on the fact that the Bhadra Wildlife Sanctuary, a Project Tiger reserve, is a lot denser than either Bandipur or Nagarhole. Enveloped by a thick canopy of trees, you must be really lucky to spot any wildlife at all. Besides a few peacock, we did manage to glimpse a herd of the gaur and the usual population of chital. To be fair, it's a place that's suitable for bird watchers.

Moving on to phase 2 of our motorcycle trip. The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of tea, we started for Chikmagalur. Refreshed after a good night's sleep, a shower (did I mention the bathroom has a one-way glass wall, which overlooks the expansive jungle?) and a good meal, I was determined not to let the steady drizzle dampen my spirits. The skies were grey, and it didn't seem like the sun was in any hurry to make an appearance.

The roads were slippery and wet, curving right through the rain-kissed forests. Our Unicorn hugged the hilly bends with strange familiarity, swallowing curve after curve as we sped ahead. At one point we simply had to stop, just to gawk at the massive trees that appeared to touch the sky. Besides cutting right through the Bhadra forest, this is one of the most scenic and traffic-free routes that you can take from Lakkavalli to Chikmagalur. Eighty-three kilometers, some tree-gawking and endless photo-sessions later, we reached Chikmagalur just in time for lunch.

End of day 2; it was time to give the bike and ourselves some rest. Moreover, my shoulders ached and my legs felt sore. Definitely time to call it a day. I went to bed that night, dreaming about the long ride to Kudremukh that awaited us the next day. From what I’d heard, it was going to be a challenging, yet memorable ride to the mighty Kudremukh range. Little did I know then that God was chuckling, making his own plans that involved riding through the dense jungles, soaked to the bone!

Click here for part II of 800 Kilometers and One Bike.

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: The best place to stay at Bhadra will be Jungle Lodges’ River Tern resort. Undoubtedly, they have the best boat and jeep safaris and great rooms. It’s this monopoly, however, that eggs them on to quote exorbitant prices. Chikamaglur has plenty of homestays that are easy on the pocket. We stayed at Nature Craft Homestay. They offer simple, home-cooked food and
clean rooms.

When to Go: If you’re planning to ride up, the best time will be between October and February, when the sun isn’t beating down mercilessly.

What to Do: You can visit the Lakkavalli Dam. But don’t miss the jeep and boat safaris, which are great if bird-watching is something you enjoy. Chikamaglur, on the other hand, has plenty of places to visit. You can drive up to the Muthodi Wildlife Sanctuary or hire a cab to Mullayanagiri, which is the highest peak in Karnataka.

How to Get There: The simplest route from Bangalore is via Tumkur,- Arasikere- Kadur – Birur – Tarikere, and finally Bhadravati. To go from Bhadravati to Chikamaglur, you must take the awesome route from Lakkavalli that goes right through the lush, green jungles.