Kumittipathi : A peep into the past

For those who are game for some adventure, writes Anima Balakrishnan

WHERE LEGENDS UNFOLD The entrance to the Neolithic cave - Photo:K.Ananthan

It was not a great day to embark on your first RLT. The monsoon had unleashed itself on neighbouring Kerala and my RLT destination, Kumittipathi, is a mere four kilometres from the Kerala border.

Our guide, ARK Arun is a fossil expert. Kumittipathi, the fossil man vouches, is home to Neolithic paintings that are more than 5,000 years old. If you thought RLTs are about obscure places tucked aeons away from civilisation, this one is different. A mere 30 km from Coimbatore, the place haunts you with its deathly stillness but has an inherent capacity to surprise you.

As you drive down NH 47 towards Palakkad, clouds darken and the air gets heavier past the Western Ghats. As we steer off the main road, temperatures drop and the scenery dotted with over-grown palm trees takes over. A town appears before you from nowhere. It's Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is just couple of kilometres away. A serpentine road takes you past tiny settlements and stone quarries, and legends unfold. Table-like stone structures, Sumai Thangikal, erected in memory of women who died during childbirth rest on the roadside. The road gets progressively slender and the ride bumpier.

Squeezing past bowing shrubs, the car climbs over a languorously spread rock and the outcrop housing the caves presents itself majestically. As the rain beats down hard, we leave our phones and watches behind and I take my first close look at the mammoth rock, which sits like a grey-brown slouching monster with a quaint sense of adventure.

Uphill task

We begin our climb and Nature decides to be a little unkind. The skies open up with all fury and with no coats or caps, the slippery climb gets a little tricky. We lumber behind the fossil man, treading over dicey, bald rock with great care. After a climb of nearly 30-foot, a huge oval mouth, around 20-foot wide opens in front of you. There it is, the granite formation in rock, pregnant with more than 3,000 million years of history and waiting to unfold its story. At the entrance are the Neolithic works, called the petrographs, of a peacock, a tree, an elephant and other geometric figures, assumed to be more than 5,000 years old. They fight for space with new-age artistic creations in chalk and paint. Walk into the ten-foot deep dark cave and pieces of broken glass and match-sticks carpet the slushy floor.

A petrograph.

Those game for a little adventure will find the climb to the temple at the top of the 300-foot outcrop interesting. Erratically arranged stone steps wind up and suddenly disappear from view. Arun assures us that the climb is not too tough and being in a mood for some adventure, I agree. But as you go half way up, the steps vanish and you are at the mercy of thinly carved footrests on the sloping, slimy rock.

You move ahead, one step at a time and tend to miss more than a breath. The rain lashing down your back doesn't make it any easier. After an eternity, you are at the very top, before the Baladandayudhapaani temple. Neatly margined paddy fields stretch across as far as you can see and the Ghats covered in mist unravel like a dark giant.

How to get there

Drive down the Palakkad highway, past Madukkarai till you reach the signboard for Nehru College on the left. Turn there and drive down the main road to reach Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is two kilometres from there.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/08/13/stories/2005081301390300.htm

Chinnampathy - Vettu Maduvu Aruvi : Oh, What a fall it was!

A tryst with Nature, writes PANKAJA SRINIVASAN

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

ADVENTUROUS TREK The waterfall

"Don't let go of my hand, no matter what," he says to me. "Not till death do us part, pal," I mutter under my breath as I tighten my grip. And the end seems to be a very real possibility as I sway and teeter and desperately try not to go over the edge, in more ways than one...

After a long gap, the prospect of an RLT into the great outdoors to a waterfall seemed lovely. So our photographer Ananthan and I set out to discover the beauties of Vettu Maduvu Aruvi — a day's trip no more. The start was propitious enough, with our car speeding away from the heat and dust towards the beautiful green hills of the Coimbatore range.

At the railway gate, I watch idly as the guard plucks a pavakkai growing wild, examines it and puts it away — a surprise for the wife no doubt. The Shoranur-Coimbatore train hurtles past and the silence is overwhelming.

Forest guard C. Renganathan awaits us at the check post. A sense of importance as an escort comprising one milkman, two anti-poaching personnel and, of course, the forest guard is provided.

Jumbo walk

This is elephant terrain. The halo diminishes somewhat as one watches the team arming themselves with small explosives and scythes, the former to scare away the elephants and the latter to cut a path through the jungles.

"Totally out, madam," says one of the escorts as he recounts with relish how his compatriot had been trampled to death by an elephant, just where we were headed, and he does a little stomping dance to better illustrate how the deed was done.

A last longing look at our car and we start our march. Hardly a short walk away and we stop to remove our shoes. It is a grove of trees with bells hanging from them — offerings to the residing deity Muniappan. Tribals pray before they enter the jungle. Just beyond is the Walayar river and we cautiously step into the waters to get across. In my heart, I am longing to suggest that this itself could be a great RLT, why go further? But, it is too late and we are now climbing, climbing, climbing, and then some more...

Enter the jungle

This is a perfect habitat for elephants as there is plenty of food, water and minimal human intervention. As I clutch my side and gasp my way onwards and upwards, every rock looks like a baleful elephant and every rustle of leaves sounds like an imminent charge. At this juncture, Sivamani the milkman enlightens us about the malaipaambu that also make their home here. So, now, I also have to watch out for pythons.

Breathtaking

Everything looks freshly painted in shades of green. Every time we stop to catch our breath, there is an impromptu botany class — it is amazing what a treasure trove of information the `simple folks' have and in contrast how little we know about nature, enveloped as we are by smoke, stink and squalor of city life.

It is time to catch our breath again, this time for another reason — a spectacular view of a waterfall in the distance. That is where we are headed. We quicken our steps as we know that a treat awaits us. And, reach a good two hours later.

The forest

For a want of a better adjective, it is awesome. A cascade of water crashes down and splashes up again. We reach the spot. On one side a quiet river, flanked by trees with overhanging branches, bubbles and gurgles over friendly round rocks and then suddenly, as if realising it is late for an appointment, it gathers speed and rushes off in a hurry to the spot where it metamorphoses into a great big waterfall.

Footloose

It is the best pedicure anywhere in the world, as you dip your feet into the water. It is freezing cold at first and then pure bliss. Silky water washes over your poor urban feet and with only a grasshopper overseeing the take off and landing of hovercraft-like insects, one could stay there forever.

But return we have to and once again we cross the stream and this time we have to go down the hill all the way, negotiating forest, thorny bushes, red ants, elephants and god knows what other perils. If I live to tell the tale, my odyssey would be the subject matter of my next RLT.

How to go

Permission of the DFO has to be sought before visiting Vettu Maduvu Aruvi. Call the DFO's office at 0422-2302925. It lies off the Coimbatore-Palakkad Road. Just before the Walayar Bridge, take the road going right towards Chinnampathy. Drive on till you reach the forest check post (approximately one km from the main road). From this point, the foothills are about six km.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/12/16/stories/2006121600190200.htm

Athikkadavu : Woods, water and wings

For a walk in the wild, says W. Sreelalitha

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

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

Navamalai : Rock and the ripples

Never mind the insects, says Subha J Rao

Photo: K. Ananthan

SILENCE AND SERENITY Navamalai, a monolithic rock

A huge monolithic rock face that thousands of bees have made their home and a mass of gently lapping water — that's Navamalai for you. Part of Electricity Board territory, this is the backyard of the Aliyar Dam.

The only company is that of strange looking red and black insects that travel in pairs and the odd chameleon. The scent of elephants is unmistakable in the background.

After climbing down a steep rock, my first stop is a cave temple dedicated to a local goddess, Aagaliamman. The speckled insects may scare away the faint-hearted but the temple is a sight to behold. The turmeric-smeared goddess and plump Vinayagar are protected by a rocky outcrop. Inside are a set of caves, one of which houses a broken ladder and terracotta idols of a goddess, horse and a headless figure, painted red, yellow and white.

The villagers who pay their obeisance here have left their mark on the temple in the form of whitewash. Earlier visitors have chiselled their names and left imprints of their feet on the rocky pathway.

A little above the hollow that makes for the temple are tens of circular crevices — the home of bees. The mammoth combs are said to yield very sweet honey. That explains the bamboo lattice frame that locals have hung against the rock. They make the dangerous descent down the rock using the frame, gather honey and gingerly make their way up again. En route, they gather ripe pods of the kazhudhabutta maram. A cotton-look alike, the kernels inside it are eaten after being roasted in an open fire.

Though just two kilometres from the much-visited Monkey Falls, this place receives very few visitors. The temple provides a vantage point to see the waters of the Aliyar. Absolute silence prevails, broken occasionally by the gentle lapping of water and the whistling of the wind. Walk down a little further and you'll reach the water body.

An apology for a road, which winds its way further down, leads into the water and disappears before resurfacing at the other end. This is the original road that was laid to the Navamalai power project. It is falling off in places, but is the best place to sit for a while and take in the view of the water, the sky and the bald peaks of nearby hills. Many years earlier, water reached up to the temple, submerging the rocks and the road. After half-an-hour of letting the gentle waves wash my feet, it is time to turn back.

How to go

Navamalai is 27 km from Pollachi. Take the road opposite Monkey Falls. Drive down about two km to reach the road leading to the temple. Walk down to the temple and the watery expanse.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/06/11/stories/2005061101120100.htm