Perilous Maneuvers

Some days are just not meant to go the way you plan them. 26 June was a particularly nasty one, with things actually going against us.

Right from the beginning, something wasn’t right. The plan was to drive down 90 Kms southwest from here to Nagarhole National Park. We were to drive our colleague’s car. As fate would have it, the dude developed an eye-infection that very morning. The car wasn’t available and neither was the guy. We couldn’t have canceled the trip: we’ve been planning it for too long.

coutesy: Monsieur Roy

So, the remaining three of us set out on bikes on the beautiful Mysore-Hunsur State Highway 88. Bad luck begins to slam us from here. We overshot the exit on the highway to the correct entrance to the park, by about 40 kms. Having no idea of the mistake, we kept on driving deeper and deeper into the forest. After having passed numerous tiny villages in the forest, we stopped at one of them just to make sure we were on the right path. (well, we weren’t) Incredulously, we were told the national park was a further 60 kms drive. It was unbelievable since we had already driven close to 85 kms from Mysore. Google Maps on the phone wasn’t working here. (Operators should stop advertising their ‘excellent’ coverage)

We didn’t know what to do. It was getting pretty late for the Safari that we had planned to go on. Going at this rate, we were sure to miss it. So, we continued on the same path. There was a broken road sign, dramatically bent and rusted, showing 34 kms to Nagarhole. It was against our calculations too, but we had no other option. We flew on the ghat road. It was dangerously narrow and surprisingly twisty. It was difficult to keep the vehicle on the road at all times at the speed at which we were driving. Knowing all the time that it was dangerous, we were speeding so as not to miss the Safari. This was when we started to feel that things weren’t going right. As if to complete our misery, it started raining. And the rain this down south is cold. Uncomfortably cold. The thought of spotting leopards and herds of elephants kept us going.

The check-post was within sight when tragedy struck. There was a sharp curve, a one like many others, but one that one of our bikes couldn’t negotiate. It resulted in the bike overshooting the road and skidding through the rainwater filled slush and throwing the rider and the pillion on to the road. The handle is twisted, the rear brake lever is mauled and the front brake lever is broken. More importantly, the guys are hurt. Bruised and shocked they got up and started checking if their cameras were alright. (geeks! I know) Now, the top priority job was to find first aid for the men and the bike, in this no-man’s land, in the middle of nowhere. A couple of nice people (of the neighboring village) offered us help and asked why we were here. We told them we were trying to go to Nagarhole. And then, they tell us that entrance to the park from this side is not allowed for two-wheelers. And we had to get back to the highway (50 kms in the opposite direction) and then drive all around the park and enter it from the southern side. Well, that decided it. We were now just gonna patch ourselves up and get back to Mysore and get a good sleep in warm blankets. The thought was painfully endearing. :)

First of all, finding a hospital in this wilderness was the major task. Surprisingly, there are villages this deep in the Western Ghats and one of them had a Government Hospital. The guys had their wounds dressed, before we proceeded to find another village, a bigger one, where we could find a mechanic to set the bike right. Now, we drove the bikes oh-so-slowly to the village and got the bike fixed while we grabbed something to eat. Being a vegetarian isn’t fun when you are in remote places and you are real hungry! A couple of more trips like this and that should be the tipping point for me. ;) After ‘lunch’ (flavored bread and soft drink), we started off to get back to Mysore. Since the trip had to be ‘complete’, it rained like it never rained before. Well, it wasn’t just rain. It was like tiny little bullets hitting us hard, painfully hard, drenching us and chilling our bones.

We tried to over speed in the rain (dangerous again, I know) hoping to move faster than the clouds that were raining upon us. It seemed to have worked, since after a long distance, it was just cloudy. Three bruised, battered, wet and sorry looking faces on two bikes emerged on the highway after what seemed like eternity. A stop at one of the coffee places on the highway and a hot cuppa brought some life back in our cold and tired limbs. We sat there and discussed how things worked out (or not) that day. We laughed at how the guys had a fall from the bike. Its strange how people can find cheer and hope in almost everything on earth. It in turn gives hope to me, in every sense. From there, a little over 40 kms drive brought us back home to Mysore. I’m just happy we all returned alive: Nature seemed to be bent on kicking our asses that day. Yes, the camera never came out, we spotted no animal, except for crows and we had been on the bike all day long.

After such an adventurous Saturday, today has been rather uneventful. I’m glad. :)

Looking forward to better (safer) trips in the future. Sure, this was one that goes into the permanent records, although I’d like some records in some other genres.