Kemmanagundi and all that
Once we reached top at KR Hills, Kemmangundi, the view was fantastic at the entrance of the guesthouse. Other than the Inspection Bungalow, the Horticulture Department's Guest House was probably the only place to stay in Kemmanagundi. I don’t recall any hotels in the area in 1991. We had the necessary permit for using the guesthouse but were also informed that the chances of getting a room/cottage were slim. Sure enough, it was full and we had to request for a night’s stay. Thankfully the officer obliged us.We dumped our bags and trekked to the nearby Z point.
Nurseries surrounded the path and the floral plants were all over the place. Z point is a hill that resembles “Z” in a wonderful way. It is a vantage point to see the entire valley. Absolutely breathtaking. We just spread ourselves on 
the ground at the point after a day’s hard ride. That night, we hit the sack in a tin roofed cottage and slept like logs.Post breakfast, we wandered around the guesthouse and the hills. After lunch we set off to the nearby Hebbe Falls (13 kms from the guesthouse). Hebbe Falls is located inside a coffee estate and can be reached only by walk or a four wheeler. Anyway, we pushed our luck and went on our Chetak and the RTZ. Though we were forewarned about the rains by the locals, the ride to Hebbe falls was an absolute joy. The scooter was doing fine, purring away on the hills.
The last stretch of 5-6 kms to the falls was strictly out of bounds for two wheelers. As we got nearer the falls, some people on the way informed us that we would have trouble returning if we ventured closer to the falls at that time of the day. The thought of staying at the foot of the falls for the night wasn’t encouraging, but we didn’t want to return without seeing the falls. The path was a dirt track among humungous greenery. Two of us decided that we would take the bike as close as possible, but didn’t get far and this resulted in the bikes being parked in different places. We could hear the sound of the falls but couldn’t see them. As we walked, the roar got louder.The falls were beautiful. They cascade from a height of approximately 250 feet to form Dodda Hebbe (Big Falls) and Chikka Hebbe (Small Falls). The photographs we clicked couldn’t be developed as we had shot them in fading light at the falls. The camera we used was a simple one, which got spoilt and was causing a cloud in every photograph. We might have spent less than 10 minutes around the falls and decided to go back. As warned, the clouds got heavier and dark, threatening to open anytime. So we hurried back as our lives depended on it. Our eagerness to reach the falls was so much that we only vaguely remembered the path on our way back.
We split up after we saw the falls and decided to meet at a clearing. Two guys went ahead to collect the bikes and the other two were to walk to the meeting point. It was getting dark.
As I write this it gives me shivers of what transpired in the next hour and half. Two of them (Rama & Rajesh) went ahead to pick up the bikes. In the other team, Giri and I felt it was time to admire the roses as we walked, but destiny had other plans. The two of us walked through coffee plantations and wilderness without a sense of urgency. It got dark and but we didn’t worry as we had a torch. I was carrying a jacket, binoculars and a camera! The torch lasted for two minutes and went kaput. There was a larger plan at work. That instant, the skies opened up. Rains in the Malnad region are not light, but a constant gunfire. We could barely see and I was getting worked up about the fact that we had no clue about the way back.
We split up after we saw the falls and decided to meet at a clearing. Two guys went ahead to collect the bikes and the other two were to walk to the meeting point. It was getting dark.
As I write this it gives me shivers of what transpired in the next hour and half. Two of them (Rama & Rajesh) went ahead to pick up the bikes. In the other team, Giri and I felt it was time to admire the roses as we walked, but destiny had other plans. The two of us walked through coffee plantations and wilderness without a sense of urgency. It got dark and but we didn’t worry as we had a torch. I was carrying a jacket, binoculars and a camera! The torch lasted for two minutes and went kaput. There was a larger plan at work. That instant, the skies opened up. Rains in the Malnad region are not light, but a constant gunfire. We could barely see and I was getting worked up about the fact that we had no clue about the way back.
All of a sudden we felt that we were no longer on the dirt track. We froze in our tracks the moment our feet hit some dry blades of grass. One of us decided to walk back a few feet to figure out where the path was. At that instant, lightning threw enough light to show us where we were standing. The sight took our breath away followed by a collective gasp. We stood a foot away from a dead drop into the gorge some 200 feet down. Standing frozen there felt like eternity. The two of us couldn’t think. Without a sound, we stepped back slowly with caution till we were damn sure that we were at least 20-30 feet away from that place. Thank God for His mercy. The escape quietened us and finally we could see that the rains would stop any moment.
At the same time, elsewhere, Rama pushed the scooter to reach the meeting point. As he reached he found no one there. A while later, Rajesh joined him on the other bike. They were wondering as to where in the blazes we were. They kept themselves busy by polishing off the pack of potato wafers (fortunately stashed away in the scooter’s trunk). They were kind of worried as they knew the path was surrounded by dead drops. They waited for about 15 minutes, when we appeared there.
Finally all of us reunited, the bikes and the boys. We were wet to the bone and so was everything on us. Now I did the most shocking and at the same time cruel thing. Maybe I wanted to lighten up the situation. So when one of us checking if there was a smoke or anything, which could give him some warmth, I responded with a yes. With my left hand soaking wet I slapped him hard. Still don’t know why I did it, and there we were staring at each other in the pouring rain. Only the sound of the rain could be heard alongwith the trail of slushy rainwater going past us. The thought that we had to check out from the guesthouse that evening was enough to make peace. The ride back was uneventful. The rains had actually helped our cause with the caretaker of the guesthouse . The moment he saw us, he remarked that we were good enough to act as extras in his friend’s next movie. He also allowed us to stay for another night.
Next morning we were off to BabaBudan Giri. The sunlight was playing hide and seek with us and the clouds were giving us big hints. Ours were the only vehicles on the road and we passed by a green patch called jaguar’s valley. The green carpet spread evenly from one end to the other at 60 degrees. It rained as we neared it and maneuvering the Chetak on that road was a tough task because of the slush all around the track.
At the same time, elsewhere, Rama pushed the scooter to reach the meeting point. As he reached he found no one there. A while later, Rajesh joined him on the other bike. They were wondering as to where in the blazes we were. They kept themselves busy by polishing off the pack of potato wafers (fortunately stashed away in the scooter’s trunk). They were kind of worried as they knew the path was surrounded by dead drops. They waited for about 15 minutes, when we appeared there.
Finally all of us reunited, the bikes and the boys. We were wet to the bone and so was everything on us. Now I did the most shocking and at the same time cruel thing. Maybe I wanted to lighten up the situation. So when one of us checking if there was a smoke or anything, which could give him some warmth, I responded with a yes. With my left hand soaking wet I slapped him hard. Still don’t know why I did it, and there we were staring at each other in the pouring rain. Only the sound of the rain could be heard alongwith the trail of slushy rainwater going past us. The thought that we had to check out from the guesthouse that evening was enough to make peace. The ride back was uneventful. The rains had actually helped our cause with the caretaker of the guesthouse . The moment he saw us, he remarked that we were good enough to act as extras in his friend’s next movie. He also allowed us to stay for another night.
Next morning we were off to BabaBudan Giri. The sunlight was playing hide and seek with us and the clouds were giving us big hints. Ours were the only vehicles on the road and we passed by a green patch called jaguar’s valley. The green carpet spread evenly from one end to the other at 60 degrees. It rained as we neared it and maneuvering the Chetak on that road was a tough task because of the slush all around the track.
On the ride back we visited Arsikere to thank the mechanic. Now we were doing a speed of 40-50kms on the scooter followed by the Kawasaki. The scooter was such a joy to ride, but the rains played havoc on the way back. It will be one of the memories of growing up which will last a lifetime. Though 16 years have passed and we all had many more road trips under our belts, Kemmanagundi still manages to invoke some great memories. Now with all the modern gadgets and big bikes, I wonder if I ever can relive this joy.
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