| For a walk in the wild, says W. Sreelalitha |
DIVERSE SIGHTS A Malabar Pied hornbill, a forest track along the River Bhavani in the Athikadavu Forest, a nest and a giant squirrel
It was my first RLT. I did not sleep a wink the previous night. It seemed like a blind date — I did not know what to expect. I realised later I should have snored away merrily. I had laid three conditions (to myself) for my debut — the trip should have a river, a trek and an encounter with a tiger. And lady luck, I guess, did not just smile, but guffawed, for the RLT had all the three. Well, almost!
Driving down to the Kobanari Reserve Forest in the Karamadai range, K. Kalidasan, president of Osai, an NGO, involved in environment conservation, mentioned the possibility of sighting hornbills. Accompanying us was forester K. Krishnasamy.
We got off the vehicle near Athikkadavu bridge, and looked down at the River Bhavani murmuring softly amid tall trees. Dazed after such a serene sight, a ruffle in a tree nearby grabbed our attention — the Indian giant squirrel. All crimson and black with a long, bushy tail, the squirrel could give its cousin in our balcony a run for its money! Once aware we were gaping at it, the rodent scurried off into the comfort of healthy shrubs.
Our one-and-a-half-km trek, just near the bridge, began. On the path, less than a foot wide, we frequently saw cakes of fresh and not-so-fresh dung of the gaur, ants — big and small, black or red — marching busily, flamboyant blue-green beetles, and loads of tiny insects.
The call of the birds
We carefully planted our steps. Cleverly camouflaging themselves in the greenery, the cicada chattered, the Malabar whistling thrush whistled, the crested serpent eagle cried, the hoopoe called, and the red-vented bulbul chirped. Dry brown leaves rustled underneath, and the river, running along our path, gurgled. This spontaneous orchestra in the wild made a perfect musical accompaniment for our journey. And just five minutes into the trek, the enchanting happened!
From atop a tree nearby, we heard an unpleasant sound like a row of boxes strung together being pulled with great effort. At once, an alert Kalidasan whispered: "Hornbill!" I could not see the bird, but soon realised that it was the flutter of its wings that was causing the discord. Had I come all this way just to spot this bird, I wondered.
But, in two seconds, as if to put me to shame for my impertinent thoughts, the rare and endangered Malabar pied hornbill took off brilliantly. Gliding with peerless flamboyance, he flew across the river, and perched himself on a treetop. He flaunted his imposing casque one minute, and tossed his head like a teasing lover, the next. After a few minutes of conceited peek-a-boo, he disappeared into a particularly flourishing tree. Ananthan, our photographer, waited for it. We too lingered, desperate for more — in vain. But this is one scene none of us would forget in a hurry.
As for me, I could not have cared if a tiger, with his lady and cubs in tow, preened endlessly in front of me for a photograph! As we continued to walk, we saw in the distance gibbering bonnet macaques jumping into the river and swimming to the bank in reckless abandon. Elsewhere, a couple of cormorants rested on a rock after a hearty breakfast and white-breasted kingfishers wheeled over the river for their meal. Throughout the stretch, we spotted at least five Indian giant squirrels. Magpie robins, babblers, bee-eaters and flower-peckers flying about with a sense of importance became boringly common.
Towards the end of the trek, we dipped our feet into the cool and pristine waters of the Bhavani, clinging to the smooth rocks. On the dry grey rocks were marvellous patterns of off-white algal remnants. Resting for sometime to watch tiny frogs and hoping an elephant would stop by, we trekked back to the vehicle. As it started, I grinned happily — I could not have asked for a better first RLT!
How to go
Karamadai is 35 km from Coimbatore. From there, drive down or take a bus to Athikkadavu, 30 km away. For permission to visit, call the District Forest Office at 0422 2302925.
Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/04/09/stories/2007040900160300.htm
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