Trip to Kundadri

A narrow winding road passing through lush green forests. The trees arch across overhead on either side to form a natural canopy, the ground below covered by twigs and fallen leaves. The silence broken only by the gentle patter of rain, the singing of a thousand crickets and the thump of a Bullet, the idyllic scenery broken only by glimpses of a fellow rider far ahead in the distance – There are few experiences more soothing to a man’s soul.


The Bare Essentials

Destination – Kundadri Betta, in the Shimoga district of Karnataka

Daywise Breakup of the ride –

Day 1: Bangalore – Tumkur – Arasikere – Shimoga – Thirtahalli
Day 2: Thirtahalli – Kundadri Betta – Agumbe – Sringeri – Kuppalli – Koppa
Day 3: Koppa – Chickmaglur – Kemmangundi – Birur – Tiptur – Tumkur – Bangalore

Distance covered – Approx 1000 km

Memories stored – Innumerable


Day 1 - The Onward Ride

The preparations started as with most other rides. Last minute tuning of the bike, calls and e-mails to one another discussing spares and meet times, buying film rolls and batteries for the cameras etc. What was different this time though, was a palpable lack of excitement in the air. Somehow everything seemed mundane, mechanical. I’m not sure why, maybe it was because I was disillusioned by my boring city life, or maybe it was because I kept viewing this as ‘only’ a weekend ride and did not have too many expectations. Nevertheless, finished my packing and went to bed late at night, followed by a sound sleep, again a contrast to when the excitement of a ride normally deprives me of any sleep the night before.

There’s NOTHING that can rob you of excitement on the morning of a ride, however, and I awoke a few hours later all fresh and eager and raring to go. Met up with the guys at 6.30am near the HP petrol pump at Yeshwantpur station and proceeded along the Tumkur highway, after refueling at Shell.

The first incident happened a few kilometers later when on a slight incline, I perceived the dreaded ‘clunk’ from my bike instead of the sweet ‘thump’. The bike then refused to obey any of my commands and coasted to a halt. My worst fears were confirmed when the kickstart lever refused to budge an inch. I absolutely could not believe I had a seized engine (at a speed of about 70) after spending a fortune on rebuilding the engine and completing 3000+ km of running in. My mood sunk to an all-time low and if someone had given me a flaming match then, I would have gladly tossed it into my petrol tank and watch the whole thing blow up into smithereens. All I wanted to do was take a U-Turn and head back to Bangalore. Da Sanjuz and Biju convinced me otherwise however, and after a 5-10 minute break Sanju reported that the kickstart lever had consented to move again. I kicked the lever tremulously, and imagine my joy when she started up obediently without the hint of a ‘clunk’! My heart leapt up to its usual place beneath the left rib cage, the clouds parted, the sun shone through and all was right with the world. After the mandatory comments about junking the bike, selling it for scrap iron etc etc, we continued on at a cautious pace.

We stopped for breakfast at Tumkur, when Sanju made me volunteer to take charge of the group kitty. A quick thought of making a run for it with the cash flashed through my mind, only to disappear once I realized I had the slowest bike that took the longest time to start (This was confirmed to be a wise decision later, when I discovered that some of my fellow 60kphers, despite their charming looks, had colorful pasts and were associated with nefarious knife-wielding, autorickshaw commandeering goons who would not think twice about squishing a little fellow like me for a few thousand bucks). The only other noteworthy result of this event was that the guys started referring to me as ‘kitty’ instead of ‘kauk’. We called Vishu to update him on the status, and after getting a reassuring reply about escaped prisoners running amok in Tumkur, we continued on our way.

The rest of the ride was fairly routine. Miles and miles of boring highway that had us wishing we had taken the train to Shimoga. Not a hint of rain either. Finally, at Arasikere, a few kilometers before Shimoga, we spied dark clouds and decided to don our rain gear. As if on cue, the skies opened up and we had the first glimpse of the rain that was to be our constant companion for the next 3 days.

Reached Shimoga at about 2.30pm, and after a quick conference between road captain Srinidhi and veterans Sanju and Biju, we decided to head to the town for lunch and then take the bypass towards Thirtahalli. Stopped at a bar & restaurant for lunch, where the question was raised about whether or not to have a small drink. After some debate, we decided it would be in our best interest not to drink, after all. We then celebrated the decision by ordering a beer with our lunch that we split between us. Lunch over, we proceeded towards Thirtahalli.

Somewhere after this was where the scenery took a drastic, unexpected change for the better. The highway gave way to interior roads, the plains gave way to forests as we started a gentle climb to Thirtahalli. I’ve done a couple of forest rides before, but never during monsoons and the difference was clearly visible. At times it felt like traveling through a dark green tunnel! Our tiredness of a few hours ago was completely gone, and I guess the scenery also brought out the dormant videographer in Sanju. He started to ride ahead and scout for ideal locations so he could film the rest of us riding through…a pattern that was to continue through the ride.

While stopping for a break enroute, we realized there was no point riding late and reaching Kundadri the same day. It would more prudent to stop somewhere nearby and hit Kundadri next morning, when we’d be fresh and could appreciate the scenic splendour better. After checking a nearby resort that was insanely expensive, we reached Thirtahalli and checked in to a single room at a local lodge, despite Biju’s cravings for more comfortable quarters (“atleast 4 and a half stars” was his constant outcry). One interesting incident as we parked the bikes was locals milling in front of the lodge to watch us. Apparently there was a film shooting happening in the locality and everyone wanted to know if we were stunt men from the film!

The preliminaries completed, we got down to a serious OM session. Except for Sanjay “Siaphino” Sharma who doesn’t drink. But then nobody’s perfect, and I’m hoping we can cure him of this habit shortly. Biju and Srinidhi entertained us with horror stories of their activities during childhood and college (had they met in college, I’m sure one of them would have killed or seriously injured the other – a fact they both readily accepted). The night wore on, we were soon waist deep in OM, SSS was knee deep in Coke and we decided to hit the sack.


Day 2 – Prowling around Kundadri

I’m on the…top of the world lookin’…down on creation…
And the only explanation I can find…

We started the day with a heavenly breakfast at a local restaurant opposite our lodge. Idlies with ‘buns’ (a local dish a bit like a sweetish square pakoda), Kesari Bhat and Uppitu, among others. Now I’ve eaten most of these somewhere or the other in Bangalore, but NEVER had they tasted so good. Yum!!

First destination for the day – Kundadri Betta. This is a giant monolithic rock formation somewhere between Thirtahalli and Agumbe. Most websites I read referred to it as an ideal place for trekking, with winding roads leading to the top if you wanted to drive there.

The scenery of the day before continued in all its splendour as we rode on. Forests gave way to countryside, vast green fields on either side of the road with thick fringes of moss bordering the road, cottages with stone fences, and the rain continuing to pour down from above. After a while, it was almost like we reached a subconscious decision that we could not just ride on neglecting the view any further, and stopped for a break. Out came the cameras in spite of the rain, and we started clicking. Sanju went off into the fields in search of an ideal shot, and I followed a while later, jumping in and out of ankle deep water in the fields. I kind of felt like I was reliving a second childhood!

We continued on, and soon reached Kundadri Betta, where the hairpin bends began. And what bends they were! I don’t think I’ve ever seen steeper ones. Knowing the limitations of my bike in climbing inclines, I said a silent prayer and proceeded up, heart in mouth. The bike wheezed, groaned, puffed, panted and made several other assorted sounds while I was counting the seconds to when she would stall, sending me plummeting to my death…but I suppose I should have had more faith in her. I had to do the whole stretch in first gear but she pulled me through without a scratch. Both Sanjus followed me up while Biju and Srinidhi were already at the top.

There’s a old dilapidated house at the top, and Sanju immediately rushed off to see if we could camp there for the night, but a leaky roof caused it to be filled with water, making it incapable of hosting a prolonged stay. We spent several minutes there clicking snaps while two or three carloads of tourists climbed up steps leading from there to the actual top of the hill.

We soon ascended to the top ourselves, to be greeted by strong winds and swirling clouds passing through us at waist level. There’s an old temple at the top, with a pillar and a tank in the front, but the best part for me was beyond the temple.

Something in the wind has learned my name…
And it’s telling me that things are not the same…

As I walked around the temple, I found the rock face abruptly going down in a smooth curve. And all around it, there was a huge sea of swirling clouds, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was literally like we had reached the end of the world…nothing ahead of us but dense white mist, obscuring everything but the rock face a few feet ahead. At times, through small gaps in the mist, we could make out scenic vistas. And the wind…a strong, buffeting wind…almost like it had a will of its own, intent on pushing me backwards, away from the edge.

All I wanted to do was keep standing there. It’s at times like these that one feels an overwhelming sense of appreciation for the magnificence of nature. There’s no air-conditioner that can come close to producing the feeling of moist cold that you experience…no Man-made structure…not the Taj Mahal or Eiffel Tower or whatever…that can come close to matching the simple beauty of the place.

In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the breeze,
There’s a pleasin’ sense of happiness for me.

We couldn’t obviously stay there forever, though, and after some time headed back. In all honesty, I was dreading the thought of going down those steep bends (my front brake had stopped working by that time) but I figured I could make it in first gear. I turned the bike around and was approaching the slope, when just about 2 feet away from it I felt the front forks seemed extremely tight and I couldn’t move the handle too much. Then I realized with a shock that I had forgotten to remove the handle lock (It’s like a pathological disease…this forgetfulness of mine. I once rode 2 km to a grocery shop, then forgot the bike there and walked back all the way, and nearly lodged a police complaint later that evening when I couldn’t find the bike at home). Shamefacedly removed the lock under Biju’s cold glare, and proceeded down…and reached the bottom in one piece with much more ease than I had imagined.

Our next destination was Agumbe, about 12km away from Thirtahalli. RC Srinidhi had informed us that there was some firing there some days ago…either naxalites had killed some people or the other way around…I forget which. So it wasn’t surprising to see a police checkpost there. They approached us with some hostility, but with RC Srinidhi talking to one in Kannada and Biju talking to the other in Malayalam, they soon thawed and let us pass with friendly smiles.

The ride down Agumbe was superb…I’m not going to wax poetic about the scenery since I’m saving that for Kemmangundi, our final destination…but it was a ride down a hill with hairpin bends, lots of mist and even more greenery. After going down Agumbe we reached a place called Someshwara where we stopped for lunch.

That was one of the best lunches I’ve had. There’s a local dish called ‘Neeru Dosai’, a dosa made of rice that’s a delicacy of sorts in Bangalore…meaning you find it in 5 star hotel menus with 4 line descriptions beneath it, for which you pay exorbitant prices. The waiter nonchalantly mentioned it was available…and then we proceeded to transfer the contents of his kitchen to our stomachs. We kept stacking the plates up as we ate so we could get shots of how much we ate…and hopefully those snaps will come out well. The bill came to just 50 bucks a head.

When we couldn’t stuff ourselves any further, we reluctantly headed out to the next destination, Kupalli. The ride was back up through Agumbe, then take a deviation to Kupalli.

It was while on that ride, that my bike was enchanted by the sight of Sanjay “Siaphino” Sharma’s brand new TB ahead of her (maybe she wanted to Mate with it, who knows). At any rate, she got very horny and started to honk continuously. That startled me so much that I stopped right there, in the middle of the road on a curve. After meekly listening to Biju’s reprimand for the same, I tried to correct it but in vain. After every few minutes she would start honking incessantly. Finally we stopped again and Sanju disconnected the wire from the horn, thus shutting her up permanently.

After taking a brief deviation to Sringeri (there’s an ancient temple there, by the banks of the river Tunga) we reached Kupalli. Kupalli is home to Kuvempu, one of the greatest Kannada literary figures of all time. His old house, built in the local style resembling a Chinese Pagoda, with multiple sloping mud roofs, has been completely renovated and converted into a museum. It houses his manuscripts, books and awards as well as common household implements of the old days. (I had seen all this during my earlier visit to Shimoga last year). The museum was closed by the time we reached, however, so we proceeded to some nearby rocks where he apparently did a lot of his writing.

This place probably bears India’s closest resemblance to Stonehenge of England. The government set up the stone structures after Kuvempu’s death (as narrated to me by RC Srinidhi). Some distance away, there’s a series of stones set in circular shape where (I guess) Kuvempu used to lecture his disciples or something. The guys saw this as a wonderful opportunity to pull my leg and made me sit there for ages while they pretended to click my snap. Dense evergreen forests surround this whole place.

Sightseeing for the day done, we decided to head to Koppa to spend the night. Found 2 rooms in a decent lodge there, and after changing into dry clothes, we got down to the very serious business of OM. What followed was long talks into the night with a frankness that only comes with…oh well, you all know what I’m talking about. But it did serve to reaffirm my belief that a ride is the best place to get to really know people and cement bonds. This was followed by impromptu birthday celebrations for Srinidhi…cake-cutting with a screwdriver and the works…unfortunately we all forgot the birthday bumps. The celebrations over, Sanjay and I headed to our room for some much-needed shut-eye.

Day 3 – Travelling through a picture postcard

It seemed like the alarm rang just moments after I closed my eyes. Awoke groggily to find I did not have any dry clothes left – water had seeped in through the cramster and into my only spare T-shirt. I didn’t really care since it was going to get wet anyway. We headed downstairs to another breakfast of Neeru Dosai, only to straightaway find the difference in a commercial town. The dosa wasn’t half as good as the previous day’s, and I struggled to get just one down. I found out that sometime in the night (or morning) the guys had decided to chuck our earlier plan of visiting Bhadra reservoir and head straight to Kemmangundi.

We headed out, through the town of Chikmanglur and towards Kemmangundi. After two days spent amidst nature, I found Chikmaglur to be a horrible place…dusty and full of traffic…and was glad when we got out again. We took a brief break at the foot of Kemmangundi, where Sanju and Biju (who had been there earlier) warned us that the road would get fairly bad ahead. The intent then was to not to take too many breaks going forward as we had planned to reach Bangalore by 6pm. However we found ourselves ‘forced’ to take a short break a few kilometers ahead to photograph the scenery…that included several bats hanging from a distant rocky ledge. The rain finally let up then so we could take out our cameras without any worries. A kilometer or two ahead, we took another ‘forced’ break for yet another photography session. That was incidentally the spot where Sanju, Biju, Vishu and Venky had stopped during an earlier visit to Kemmangundi.

I walked out a few steps to look down the hill slope, and was stunned to see the best vista I had seen in a long time. I’m still struggling to place either that moment, or the time atop Kundadri Betta as my defining moments of the trip. It was like a huge grassy rolling landscape, sloping downards, with a thick bunch of trees clustered around the center…a startling contrast between light and dark green…but forget it, there’s no way I can convey in words the beauty that lay before me…I’m just hoping some of the snaps can capture it properly.

After we had taken in enough of the scenery, we continued on, only to take yet another stop near the peak, where both Sanjus had taken their bikes off the road and to the edge of the peak. We all parked our bikes there for the line-up shot, and there we finally decided there was no point rushing through this place. The plan of reaching Bangalore by 6pm was thrown out the window and we decided to spend as much time there as possible.

After several shots, including some taken after we climbed up the hill to get a birds eye view of the bikes and the scenery, we finally moved on. We soon crossed the hill and rode down the other side. What followed was some good off-roading through badly broken roads and slush (some of it had me rather nervous as it looked very similar to the snow at Uttaranchal where I fell all over the place…except that it was brown instead of white) some of it past small roadside waterfalls. There was one particularly bad (good!) stretch where I was sure I’d fall off…(Biju and Sanjay had already stopped ahead and were waiting by roadside, ready to help me up)…but I managed it and rode on triumphantly. Sanjay followed me shortly and we took a break ahead to wait for the rest of them to catch up.

It was there that I saw my final stretch of beautiful landscape…quite literally like a life-size painting in green…tall wide trees, trunks partly covered in moss, bordering both sides of the road, which also looked a bit green due to the moss fallen onto it. The guys took snaps while I shook my head disbelievingly, and then we continued on. We took a final break in the hills, while I scampered around in some nearby green fields (which would make a great camping ground. Srinidhi had apparently camped there earlier…lucky dog!) and then slowly the hills started to give way to highway again, and I knew our trip had finally ended.

What was still left though, was the dreary part of riding back to Bangalore. We stopped at a roadside dhaba just after Birur at 5pm for a late lunch. The dhaba was, incidentally, called NASA Dhaba Hotel. (Earlier on in the ride, we had crossed a Havard Public School and a place called Narve). While we were packing up after lunch, we had an interesting conversation with a local, which went something like this:

Villager: Are these rented bikes?
Biju: No, they’re our own bikes.

Villager: So will you sell them once you get back?
Biju: No, no, they’re our own bikes. We won’t sell them.

Villager: KA-05 registration…where is that?
Biju: Bangalore.

Villager: So where are you guys from?
Biju: Bangalore.

Villager: Where are you going?
Biju: Bangalore.

Villager: Where are you coming from?
Me: Bangalore.

We soon got on the highway again, and it started growing dark. After we crossed Tiptur it had gotten completely dark and Sanju & Biju gave us the lowdown on night-riding in a group. Srinidhi did his final bit of road captaincy by leading the ride for the most part (although Biju took over towards the end). We touched speeds of 80-ish and I was worried my engine would seize again, but surprisingly it behaved remarkably well. After a few minutes I started thoroughly enjoying the ride…5 headlights in a row…4 steady bright white lights and my own yellow flickering orb of a light (which caused Biju much amusement as he looked at me in the rearview mirror), moving at high speeds which made me remember Gaurav’s ‘Poetry at high speeds’ writeup. By the way, this ride has convinced me that I can now officially claim the ‘dimmest headlight award’ from GR. It wasn’t really a problem though, as the flaming cross on Biju’s riding jacket cast a surreal white glow on the road, lighting up the surroundings for miles around.

Towards the end, my bike gave me the final set of troubles when the battery conked off completely. This coupled with its tendency to switch off whenever I reduced speed to a large extent (fiddling with the idle screw didn’t seem to make a difference) meant I had to spend ages kicking the bike each time we came across a speed breaker. But we still made decent time and reached Nelamangla by around 11pm. A final tea break where we said our tearful goodbyes, a promise to meet soon for another round of drinks, one final dash towards our respective homes, a final breakdown for me where I sat 15 min by the road waiting for the battery to charge up, and the ride was officially over.

Sitting in office now completing this write-up (glancing nervously over my shoulder in case the boss comes around), I can’t help wonder if it was only a weekend I spent at Kundadri. It doesn’t seem possible that I’ve seen so much, experienced so much in so short a span of time. But then I guess good things do come in small packages.

For now, it’s back to my routine life. My 9 to 6 job, navigating through Bangalore traffic twice a day and sitting in a cubicle all day. But I guess every cloud does have a silver lining.

And the silver lining for me – August 15th, Dangs, here I come!!