Re-discovering Koraput : Day-5

Route : Jeypore-Balia-Boipariguda-Ramagiri-Gupteswar

            And return via the same route.

The trek up and down Duduma waterfall on day-4 had left us high and dry. We were sleeping on the verandah of our farmhouse. It was nearly 7 when we woke up and someone handed me a glass of steaming hot decoction of tea dust and sugar, a very good beverage to refresh the senses. Thankfully the fatigue of the previous day was gone to a great extent. I wasn't feeling tired from the muscle anymore. The morning was bright and chilly. Birds were singing their morning songs everywhere around. A pair of black-hooded oriole and the magpie robin were singing much closer to us on the two Mohua(Madhuca indica) tree in-front of the house. Listening to the bird calls Udayan remembered the promise I had made to him earlier. He had not yet seen the Red Avadavat or Red Munia(a small and colourful bird of the size of a sparrow, males are bright blood red in colour with white dots). I had promised to show him the birds in our farm where they are found in very good numbers. The parts of the farm which is left uncultivated is always invaded by weed and wild grass and the flock of these Munia are very fond of feeding on the seed of these grasses. I have seen flocks numbering 200 birds feeding in our farm. These flocks generally consists of  more than three or four species of Munias. We set off on a walk through the fields in the hope of finding the munias. Though there was grass in some patches of the field but the birds were not there. 

Here let me tell you something about the location of our farm. Our farm is situated 12 kms south-west of Jeypore town, near the place where the gorge of river Kolab ends and the river runs off out to the flatter parts of the plateau. One has to take a right turn from the state highway at the end of Patraput village and traverse exactly 1.8 kms towards the village Durgabhatta and our farm house appears on the right hand side. My maternal uncle bought 15 acres of land in the year 1997-98 here. Later in year 2003 my father bought another 15 acres adjacent to it. River Kolab flows 200 mtr south of our farm and we draw water from the river for irrigation purpose. My uncle and my brother look after the farm. We grow a variety of crop here. Aromatic plants such as Jamarosa, Vetiver, Lemon Grass and Citronella are major crops at the farm. A small distillation unit has been set up there to extract the oil from these plants. These aromatic oils find various use in cosmetic and other such consumable goods.

When we didn't find our target species of bird we proceeded towards the small perennial stream that skirts our farm towards the north boundary. The bank of this stream is overgrown with scrub and shelters many passerines. The birds that I always spot near the stream are Long-tailed Shrike, Common Hoopoe, Scaley-breasted Munia, Indian Silverbill, Yellow-eyed Babblers, Ashy Prinia, Common Tailor Bird, Common Quail,  Grey Francolin, Black-shouldered Kite , Indian Nightjar, White-throated and Common kingfishers and many more. A pond was dug out nearer to the stream, half an acre in area. It dries up as soon as the rains are gone but the deepest part of the pond remains wet till early summers and it is this wet part that is overgrown with Ipomoea weed and many small birds have made it their safe heaven. We did not have to search too far. There they were. The Red Munia's. A few males and females were going in and out of the Ipomoea bushes. A small blue kingfisher was also perched on a Ipomoea branch. Udayan went after the munias to take a record shot. I sat on the bank of the pond, basking my back in the morning sun. I kept my promise, Udayan saw his bird. It was time to leave for Jeypore.

A frugal breakfast was awaiting us at Purunagarh(my ancestral home). We lost no time in finishing off whatever was served. Our ancestral home at Purunagarh was built by my grand father way back in 1970's. The house is more like an old British bungalow with a porch and large garden space. All living quarters and bedroom doors open to the verandah, the kitchen and store have entry from the back yard. The garden borders the house on the east and north. The garden to the east is a jasmine garden that was very lovingly planted by my great grandmother way back in the 70's and it continues to bloom every summer without exception. To the south of this jasmine garden there are two mango trees, two tamarind trees, one neem tree and two coconut trees. One of the mango trees is much older than the house itself. Though its fruits are not so great to taste but it provides the much needed shelter to many birds of the garden. A colony of common myna and a jungle owlet share the tree. The jungle owlet being nocturnal uses the dense foliage and the hollows of the mangifera as a day time resort. The mynas do not mind sharing their territory with the owlet as it doesn't harm them or their fledglings. But they are at constant threat from the pair of shikra who nest close by on the bigger tamarind tree or the silver oak in our neighbours compound. The jungle owlet was also a bird that I had promised to show to Udayan. It didn't take us long to find the bird as it was sitting on an open branch of the neem tree, doing up its feather in the sun after a busy nights wandering.

We returned to Bada Maa's house to snatch an hours nap and then got ready for our ride to Gupteswar. Since we had a late breakfast we decided to have lunch either at Boipariguda or Gupteswar. We left Jeypore close to 1 o'clock. The sky looked fantastically blue with blotches of clouds in the western horizon. Sidhu was accompanying us this time and was riding my Enfield and I retired to the pillion to take pictures. We reached Boipariguda and bought some refreshments there. Then we rode on to Ramgiri village which is a sizeable village at the fringe of Gupteswar forests. Gupteswar is exactly 13 kms from Ramgiri. The road from Boipariguda bifurcates at the beginning  of Ramgiri village. The right one leads to Kundra and the left one proceeds to Gupteswar. I had visited Gupteswar on two occasions earlier. Once from Jeypore and from Kundra on another. Due to my misjudgement we proceeded a furlong along the road branching off to Kundra but the open farmlands and the absence of a police outpost made me realize that we had been going in the wrong direction. I signaled Udayan to turn back and we were once again on the right path. The police outpost of Ramgiri was blown up by the naxalites a few years ago and a small company of BSF jawans now man the outpost. Few sentries are always kept on guard in the bonkers and they keep their assault rifles aimed on to the road all day and all night. The sentries gave us penetrating looks as we passed on the road. Forest proper begins a couple of kilometers from the police outpost.

"The sky looked fantastically blue with blotches of clouds in the western horizon"

"An Abandoned iron suspension on Sati river on the way between Jeypore and Boipariguda"

SIDHU WITH THE CLASSIC 350

LANDSCAPE BETWEEN BOIPARIGUDA AND RAMGIRI

Gupteswar forests are the remnants of a vast forest scape that was known as Dandakaranya. The loot of forest resources from Koraput, by natives as well as outsiders, in the last few decades has reduced this forest to a mere few hundred square kilometers of dis-integrated forests dotted with numerous human habitations, leaving little or no room for the diverse wildlife that once inhabited them. Notwithstanding these facts wildlife has subsisted in the remaining patches of less disturbed forests. The pristine vegetation is one of the few remaining patches left in India today of its kind and the birdlife is astoundingly rich. My subsequent birding ventures in these forest has yielded as many as 100 species during the span of a single day.

FOREST PROPER BEGINS 

As we pushed ahead the vegetation got denser. We stopped at the famous "Dalkhai" shrine that marks the beginning of a steep ghat named "Dokri Ghati", (Dokri in Koraputia means an old lady). The steep road looses elevation of nearly 100 meters within a distance of half a kilometer. This slope was even steeper in earlier days which made the ghat a treacherous road to travel on. Negotiating the ghat either way on bullock carts and other vehicles was a nightmarish experience. Even vehicles with four wheel drive found it difficult to traverse. Many of them have rolled down this ghat resulting in human or animal casualty. Travellers pay a darshan at the Dalkhai shrine and pray for a safe passage through the treacherous ghat. The obeisance is paid in the form of a small branch or a bunch of small branches that is laid at the feet of the deity "Dalkhai". This is a custom that is followed by travellers very religiously and local people sell bunch of branches, a rupee apiece, and make a small income out of it. We also paid our homage at the shrine and had a small chat with the pujari(priest) of the place and enquired about the wildlife in that locality. Since the shrine is located at the shoulder of a hill, it commands a majestic view of the surrounding forests. Forest stretches upto the horizon in the west. The hills clothed with pristine sal forests roll down up to the river Kolab. The other side of river Kolab is Chattisgarh forests. I took a few photographs from this point and we rolled down this steep ghat. I have on earlier occasions trekked in the southern aspects of this forest. Now I recall those experiences with a lot of delight. But the forest looked a whole lot different while riding through it.

DALKHAI SHRINE 

FOREST AS FAR AS YOUR EYES CAN SEE -VIEW FROM DALKHAI TEMPLE 

THE ROAD DOWNHILL-DOKRI GHATI

AT THE END OF THE STEEP DOKRI GHATI

We reached Gupteswar at around 3 o'clock and went straight to the bathing ghat on river Kolab(Sabari/Saveri). This place offers a spectacular view of the rocky river and surrounding jungles. We went for a stroll upstream along the river expecting to sight a few birds but all in vain. Except heaps of human excreta we saw nothing. Retracing our step we went to the small market place near the shrine where petty vendors sell sundry items to tourists. There are a few eateries that serve tea, snacks and frugal meals. Few shops sell the goods that is offered to lord Gupteswar as offerings and some locals also sell local forest produce such as honey and sal resin(also known as Jhoona). Here at this market place we met a person from Jeypore who has taken to the life of an ascetic and living in one of the caves near Gupteswar since last one and half decades. He used to be a computer hardware and software professional at one point of time and somehow got fed up with his banal existence and resorted to a living that he regarded diviner. He greeted us in fluent English, taking us to be tourists from far off places. But once I gave him my introduction , over cups of tea, he opened himself up through a fulsome conversation in the course of which we discussed things ranging from wildlife to computer languages. He also told me that he knew my father well. We said good bye to him and went loitering down the narrow concrete pathway that leads to the caves of ""Parabhadi"which are situated on the other western side of the same hill that houses the main Gupteswar cave. The name means "abode of pigeons".

KOLAB/SAVERI RIVER 

THE CONCRETE PATHWAY LEADING TO PARABHADI

Hardly did we know, as we ambled down the pathway, that the the next couple of hours will turn into an jamboree of bird sighting. The first bird to appear was a Velvet-fronted Nuthatch. As typical to the birds belonging to nuthatch/creeper family, this bird was also creeping upside down on the branches. A Velvet-fronted nuthatch is impossible to miss in a tree due to its bright and contrasting colouration. The sighting of this bird thrilled us.To be honest I was least expecting the bird in the vicinity of the cave as this area is mostly frequented by bipeds. The next hour or so  turned out to be a pleasant surprise as we spotted many interesting birds like Vernal Hanging Parrot, Indian Yellow Tit, Brown-capped pygmy woodpecker, Brown-cheeked Fulvetta, Tickell's Blue Flycatcher, White-rupmed Shama etc.

BROWN-CAPPED PYGMY WOODPECKER

BROWN-CHEEKED FULVETTA-THE SKULKER OF THE BUSHES

VELVET-FRONTED NUTHATCH- THE ULTIMATE ACROBAT

VERNAL HANGING PARROT

SONGSTER OF THE INDIAN JUNGLES 

TICKELL'S BLUE FLYCATCHER

The birding sprint drew to a close as light started to fade away rapidly. We decided to head back to the road where we had parked our motorcycles. On our way back I had an interesting chat with a elderly man who was happily puffing away at his tobacco leaf(colloquially called a "sutta", "dhungia" or "pikka"). He was a man from nearby Siribeda village which is mostly inhabited by a tribe named "Dhurua". Pointing to the hills to our west the old man told me "Babu, you see that huge rock? Last year in the month of  "Pus"(peak winter) I had seen a "bagh" and its cubs playing and basking in the sun. Not on one occasion but many times. Not only me but many people from the bazar also have seen it". Now a "bagh" in Koraputia can mean anything from a tiger to hyaena. Secondly after years of interaction with my jungle dwelling friends of Koraput, I have learnt to take their words with a pinch of salt as their narration of events is very very prone to exaggeration. Hence I assume it to be a leopard if it was a big cat at all. Because no tigress, how bold it may be, would not raise its cubs so close to human settlement and in a place that has very depleted prey base. On my part it is only wishful thinking that big cats continue to roam these beautiful forests and live in harmony with human beings.

ENTRANCE TO THE PARABHADI CAVE

TIME FOR SOME BIRDING 

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The ride back to Ramgiri and onward to Jeypore was a cherished one in complete darkness of night. Time of twilight had also elapsed by the time we were heading back. There were no stops till Ramgiri. This was not for the first time that I was running down that road at night. But this time the road had an  eerie charm of its own. Centuries old sal trees towered on both side of the road. Their huge trunks and the retro-reflective plates fixed to them by the R&B division reflected the beam of my bright motorcycle head light. The constant motion though the towering trees carried me away to the games that I used to play as a child on computer. The lone rider going through the forests of night. Not a single human soul passed us in those 13 kilometers. Only a lone jackal, a jungle cat and a fox at three different locations were all that of wildlife we saw on the way. In my class 3 books there was this true story about the chowkidar of a forest bungalow of Mathpada(very close to Ramgiri) and his blood-curdling encountered  with a tiger inside the bungalow compound. Those were the days when tigers were plenty in these forests. So naturally these were the favourite hunting grounds of  Maharaja of Jeypore and his guests. But now there is no sign of any tigers nor their prey. I will not talk about the destruction brought upon these forests here. I have written a detailed passage about it some time earlier on this blog.
Just after crossing Ramgiri we stopped on the road near Mathapada. Parked our bikes on the road side and sat right on the road to soak in some silence and tranquil environ of the sal forest. Except for the constant trill of the cicada there were no other sounds. Not even the familiar hoot of an owl. But I imagined, sitting on the lonely jungle road, somewhere deeper in the forest a Brown Fish Owl must be perched on its vantage point besides a stream, awaiting its night meal. On some high branch of the sal tree a Scops owl must be hooting away its constant childlike muffled syllable -Unh-Unh-Unh-Unh..... Not too far away a bruin must be searching and digging termite mounds to suck out the juicy white ants as there is no dearth of them in these forests. A cunning and clever jackal must have taken its position near some village hut to chance upon a chicken from the pen. A good 15 minutes we sat there in silence until a pick up van passed on the road at full speed.

A cursory visit to some of our relatives  and  a few cups of hot tea later we left Boipariguda and headed for Jeypore. On the way again a jungle cat crossed our path. I stopped the bike and Sidhu went down to the road edge to see where it had gone. The cat after seeing us approach had gone into a paddy field were paddy was almost waist high. The cat had gone into a bush and its eyes were reflecting the light of Sidhu's torch from a bush across that field. The cat had its lair in that bush where it was perhaps tending is kittens as we could hear the meowing of the small kittens and also the resentful snarls of the mother cat. Just then Sidhu tried to step down into the paddy field with the light still on the bush. The mother cat let out a shrill snarl and jumped into the paddy field and came leaping though the paddy grass like a bouncing ball, snarling repeatedly. I watched all this from the elevated road. It stopped after coming half way down the field. I called Sidhu back and told him to leave the family alone. It was really a lesson that even an animal as small as a jungle cat can charge down on human beings to protect its young.

At about 9 o'clock we reached back at Jeypore and headed straight to the famous Girija fast food joint which serves Jeyporias their daily share of chicken soup and egg roll. This small treat was to celebrate the successful close to Day-5 of the trip.

The forests of Gupteswar hold a special place in my life. I have always enjoyed trekking up and down its densely wooded hill sides the most. Watching its birds and wildlife gives me immense joy. One of my candid confessions is I wish these forests are protected and restored to their former glory, full of life and full of gods beautiful creations. So that I can drive down these forests, as an old man,  in a jeep with my grand children and point to them a sambar stag scratching its antlers against a tree, a sloth bear rubbing its back against a scaly sal tree, a colony of hill mynas whistling their sweet notes, a beautiful leopard bounding across the road and melting away into the bushes, to take them on a stroll along a stream bed and to enjoy a cold lunch of sandwiches. Is it too much to ask for? I think our coming generations have every right to these small pleasures of life. Don't they?

Re-Discovering Koraput : Day-4

Route : Jeypore-Kota Junction-Peta Ghati-Lamtaput-Machkund-Duduma-Ankadelli/Onukadelli

             and return via the same route. 

The plan for the day was something else. As per the itinerary I had made, Duduma waterfall and Gupteswar caves were supposed to be covered the same day, i.e on Day-4. Fate had something different planned  for us. The same predicament of previous mornings repeated itself. Waking up early was proving a real hard task for us. Anyway after a lot of alarm snoozing and you-go-to-the-toilet-first antics we were ready for another hectic and eventful day. We left Jeypore town at around 7.30 am. I had instructed Sidhu to arrange lunch for us at our farm house near Patraput village. Coincidentally the location of our farm house is such that for someone visiting  Duduma and Gupteswar the same day it is almost midway. There is an iron suspension bridge across river Kolab near Patraput, which also happens to be a picnicking spot for the people of Jeypore and nearby places. The iron bridge was built in the year 1931 by the British and handles most of the traffic between Jeypore-Malkangiri and Jeypore-Lamtaput even today. This bridge is exactly 10 kms far from Jeypore. We stop there for a while to enjoy a packet of biscuit and the morning melody of the birds of near by forest. River Kolab emerges from the higher hills to the Jeypore plateau near this bridge. Both banks of the 10 km long gorge is cloaked with dense forest and holds a good number of leopards. Bird life also seemed rich from the calls I heard that morning.

Morning from Peta Ghati 

The condition of road on the first few kilometres of Peta ghat is horrendous. The first two kilometres is in such a bad shape that it took us 20 minutes to go through it. Probably the road was being black-topped and the contractor had left the job half done. Bare boulders lay scattered on the road and threatened to rip the tyres if we tried moving faster on them. To add to the woe of the commuters there are two hairpin bends with high gradient, passing which without falling off the two wheeler can be considered an achievement in itself . Somehow we passed the stretch unscathed. The morning was young and the air felt crisp as it feels on a winter morning in Koraput. We stopped at a few places to take shots of the landscapes. This road also happens to be the road which we used to take while coming from or going to Padua. But this road was a less frequented road in those days and we usually came on our Rajdoot. The Rajdoot my father rides (he still rides it) is a 1980 Rajdoot. It carried four of us, Baba, Maa, Sidhu and me effortlessly up the Peta ghat. If Baba and me happened to go together I used to sit on the tank. On long straight stretches Baba would let me hold the handle and the throttle. I would be thrilled to twist the throttle and the 175 cc Rajdoot would gallop on the open roads. And now I was riding a Royal Enfield on the same old roads alone. The landscape on the plateau is strikingly similar to the English country side. Fields of niger seed, paddy and raagi interspersed with lines of cashew, eucalyptus and other such trees give the countryside a resemblance to the countryside of a few European nations. Every dirt track that diverged from the main road was an invitation good enough to leave the road I was travelling on and go where ever the dirt track went. Wish I could do that.
                                               

A Lovely Morning near the Back Waters of Kolab Reservoir 

8.30 am saw us at Lamtaput. Lamtaput is a big village which is also the head quarter of the administrative block by the same name. Like many such villages of Koraput, Lamtaput too has its share of government offices and residential quarters for the staffs who serve in them. Apart from this there are a few shops that cater to the basic need of people of the village and the villages around. The entire village is full of sky high eucalyptus trees. The eucalyptus trees are laden with thousands of fruit bats during the day time and are quite a spectacle. The bats rest on these trees, upside down and their wing flaps covering their face during day light. We photographed the birds. My school friend named Sandeep Patnaik works for a NGO and stays at Lamtaput. I had informed him of our visit earlier and he was ready to accompany us to Duduma. We went to his house where he introduced us to his colleagues and room mates. They also expressed their amazement when we told them that we have arrived there on Royal Enfields from as far a place as Bhubaneswar. Four of his colleagues also joined us for Duduma. We went back to the market place of Lamtaput where we took our break fast. Puri and upma served with chutney and ghuguni in a leaf bowl(dana) was good enough to appease our hunger. Coming out of the hotel we see that Udyan's Thunderbird is nowhere to be seen. Nearly 15 men had surrounded his bike and were making their expert comments on the make and build of the Thunderbird.

The Bats of Lamtaput

 At 10.30 am we start for Duduma via Machkund. On the way we crossed a weekly haat. Haats in Koraput are usually a very colourful place. Especially the ladies come to the haat in their strikingly colourful clothes. I let Sandeep ride my Classic so that I could enjoy the landscape around. There are several coffee plantations on the way from Lamtaput to Machkund and the coffee from Koraput has a demand of its own in the market ,some people say. While on the way Sandeep and me discussed his work and the prevailing anarchy in the region. On the way a bus coming from behind kept honking at us and when we left way for it to pass I saw, to my utter surprise, a bus full of Bengali tourists. In the given circumstances when people from Jeypore and Koraput fear to visit Duduma, a bus full of Bengali tourists was there. They must have all the way from West Bengal to Koraput through Odisha. I wonder if there is any nook left on the map of India that has not been visited by a babu moshay. When tour operators from West Bengal can arrange tours to the so called remote places of our state then what is stopping our own tour operators to include these places in their itinerary. After crossing the village of Machkund we drove along the reservoir banks for some distance. The check dam on the river Machkund/Sileru has given birth to a beautiful water body and water to the Machkund Hydro Electric Power Plant is diverted from here. We did a  customary stoppage there as "tourists" usually do. Then  we started our down hill descent into the Machkund river gorge along with the river. There came the awe-inspiring vista of the gorge. A few stops again were mandatory. I had this wish to go to the bottom of Duduma waterfall since the time I came here last time. The visit was a brief one that time and I did not have the time to trek down the waterfall. Hence we decided to go to the view point beyond Ankadelli village and return along with some refreshments from Ankadelli village to trek to the bottom of the waterfall.
       

Coffee Plantation en-route Machkund

The Dam on River Machkund : Upstream View 

The Dam on River Machkund : Downstream View

Power Channel that carries water to the Hydro-station

The Awe-inspiring Vista of Machkund Gorge

While passing through the Ankadelli village we saw a few Bonda women, but as there is restrictions on clicking their photographs now we went ahead straight to the view point. The view point is on the shoulder of  the mountain on the western side of the gorge. We clicked a few photographs there. The view point is the regular pit stop for all the visitors and hence was littered like a garbage dump. Polythene wrappers, cigarette packs, broken liquor bottles and what not. The mountain on the other side of the gorge is in Andhra Pradesh and has thick blanket of forest on the slopes and. The river is flowing in the valley below in the shape of a serpent. What a view. To the north is visible the waterfall and the penstocks(nothing but large pipes that convey water from reservoir to the turbines)of the Machkund Hydro-power Station. An electric winch that dates back to the British Era runs parallel to these penstocks and is quite functional till now. I have heard, from many people who have used this winch, about the scary experience of descending in that age old winch. Not too long ago while traveling in the winch a few people have also seen tigers and leopards in the forest that surrounds the penstocks. Unfortunately I never have had the opportunity to use that dreaded winch. Machkund Hydro-electric Power Station was the brainchild of some British administrator. The work on the dam and power house started much before independence but it was not until 1955 the generators were commissioned to generate electricity. The generated power is shared between Andhra Pradesh and Odisha in a 60-40 ratio as the reservoir is spread across both the states. The village of Anakadelli is the small township for the employees of the power station. Most of the staff are employed by Andhra Pradesh Power Generation Corporation and are Telugu. Therefore there is regular bus service to Vizag and Vizianagarm from Anakadelli.

The Snaking Machkund River

Panoramic View of the Gorge 

Sandeep and his colleague 

The Wanderer

After satisfying our eyes with those sumptuous vista we went back to Ankadelli village to purchase some refreshments that were necessary for the arduous trek. A few packets of biscuits and a few pouches of drinking water were all that we thought would be necessary. Then we went to the small cottage situated on the ridge from where the trek to the bottom of the fall starts. We parked our bikes there and  started our walk downhill. The district administration has taken a lot of pain to construct concrete stairs half way down. This definitely has made life easier for many. As it happens often when you trek downhill after a long time, my legs started trembling and shaking. Thanks to the steep gradient. When the stairs end one needs to take to a well beaten track that leads to the bottom of the waterfall. Walking on this track was a little difficult, at least for me. The mud path had worn smooth by the barefoot of the fishermen who use this track frequently and the dew from the canopy above had made it a little slippery. I had to be a little extra cautious as I had a twisted left ankle to watch out for which I had injured a few months ago. I could not have risked another damage to the already damaged ligament. I could see the snowy white colour of the stream from within the gaps in the canopy. Finally we reached the bottom.

Here let me tell you something about Duduma waterfalls. Duduma waterfall is on the river Machkund/Sileru. The waterfall on the main river is 175 mtr high and is classified as a horsetail type waterfall(waterfalls that fan out as they drop down). This falls ranks 19th among the waterfalls of India in terms of height. Apart from the main Machkund river another stream that flows from Andhra Pradesh side also plunges into the same gorge as the river. The excess water that could not be utilized by the Machkund Hydro-electric station is also released into this same pool. This artificial stream is most beautiful of the three and is not to be seen throughout the year though. The only place from where the view of the three waterfalls together can be enjoyed is the place where I stood. Three of the gorgeous falls pouring their grandeur onto me. Mighty walls of rock surround the place on three sides and the river has licked its way through the rocks on the other remaining one side. I leave it to my pictures to convey what my words cannot. I clicked, videogrpahed , thoroughly enjoyed and literally soaked in the beauty of the place. Then it was time for a bath. The pools of the river were never a safe option for people like us who barely know to swim. Machkund river as a matter of fact derives its name from these pools. Machkund is derived from the word "Mastya Kunda" meaning "Pool of fish". As per colonial officers these pools used to teem with Mahsheer fishes which were surprisingly docile and let people stroke their backs in shallow water apparently the reason was a restriction on their catching by the ryots. In the present context that thing seems only like a fairy tale. Over-fishing and pollution of the river has reduced the population of these tigers of fresh water to nothing. We very carefully tiptoed upto the base of the largest of the three waterfalls and enjoyed the mighty "shower". The spot where we choose to take shower was much away from the main fall. Only a few smaller streams from the main fall had entered rock crevices and poured out from the other side. But the force of water was too vigorous to stand. The rocks were also slippery owing to the running water. We enjoyed the bath but maintaining the caution all the time. Thankfully we all came out unscathed from the bath. The refreshments followed while the wet clothes and undies were let to dry on the rocks. It was going to be 3 o'clock now. We had abandoned all plans to visit Gupteswar by now. I could not even inform Sidhu of our altered plans as there was no signal down there, who otherwise would be waiting for us with lunch at our farm.

"The Prodigious Plunge"

So we started our uphill trek. I knew from the very beginning that the climb would be one of the toughest I have ever taken. Sandeep and his colleagues had earlier trekked up and down on an earlier occasion and were aware of the hardships. I tied my jacket around my waist, which I usually do while climbing a hill and relieved myself of the binocular and handed it over to Sandeep. The first climb was on the path without stairs, hence was a little easier to climb. Udayan started struggling after only a few meters. Being a bulky fellow and not having climbed hills very often he started panting like a fish out of water. I slowed down to keep him company and gave him a stave to use as an aid. He stopped every twenty paces and I started to feel really worried looking at his panting. I told him to sit down for a while and drink some water. Alas. All we were left with were only three pouches of water. I gave Udayan one and the other two to Sandeep's colleagues. Udayan didn't drink it then. Said I will drink it when I feel extremely thirsty and saying this he put the pouch in his back pocket. We reached the concrete steps. I asked Udayan to get rid of any belongings except the camera. I handed over his jacket to someone and asked others to go ahead at their own pace. From now on the ascent has to be made on stairs which made it more difficult for us. I framed a strategy on my mind to overcome this problem. I decided to climb 20 stairs at a time, regain breath and then again climb 20 stairs. If breath permited then I did a couple more than 20 but not one less. That definitely helped me. I told Udayan to do the same but he wasn't able to cross more than 10 at a stretch. Almost half way up the hill he squeezed out the water pouch he was carrying in his back pocket as he sat right on it and spilled out the few mililitres of water that was left with us. Almost everyone was feeling thirsty but there was no water to drink. I had drank to my fill in the river as I knew, half way up the hill water will be a scarce commodity. I stuck to my strategy but made sure I was not much ahead of Udayan. I kept shouting words of invigoration to him but those had little effect I guess. His slow progress gave me ample time to rest and regain breath. Udayan was last in line, I ahead of him and a colleague of Sandeep, who was from Bhadrak, preceded me in the line. He finally decided to give Udayan some morale booster and went back to walk by his side. Only 50 steps to go now. Ah. Those 50 steps seemed like a 500 more. The pressure on thigh and calf muscle felt tremendous as if something has been tied around them to restrict them from moving. My heart was literally beating in my throat and I could feel my eyes popping out of their sockets. The lactate formed in my muscles due to the  strenuous climb was now playing tricks with me. I thought I could go no more. Yet the sight of the mango tree on the ridge didn't let me stop. I thought of all those great mountaineers who have conquered the Everest, K2, Annapurna, Kanchenjunga and other such hostile mountains. Compared to those oxygen bereft, rough weathered and blood-freezingly cold mountain sides these hills and stairs are nothing but a piece of cake. Nothing on this earth stands against the strong will of man. Neither the highest of mountains nor the deepest of oceans. At the end of the climb I sat down looking down at the gorge and the sun that was preparing to set down behind some distant hill. The gorge looked all the more alluring and all the more scenic than the time I had last seen it. Heart beats eventually regained their normal pace and the tense muscles felt a little relaxed, thanks to the soothing vista. I called Sidhu and told him not to wait for us any longer as we wont be back before 6. I dragged my way to the huts on the ridge. Asked the lady of the hut for drinking water and emptied the whole pot and asked for some more and took it up to Udayan who was sitting at the end of the stairs. The huts on the ridge have been built on one of the most picturesque location. I wondered how it missed the keen eyes of the Britishers, otherwise there must have stood a beautiful bungalow in place of those huts today. Surely I would be a lot happier man if one of the huts belonged to me.

Oh My Dear, There You Are

It was time to retrace steps to Jeypore. Without further delay we started on our way back to Jeypore. The day was no doubt so full of activity, anxiety, fun, fatigue and satisfaction. The trek up and down the waterfall was one of the most challenging feat for both the body and our will power. The grandiose vista we got to experience from the bottom of the fall is something that providence doesn't blesses everyone with, but only to a few who dare to tread that extra mile. The pictures I clicked are mere testimony to the stunning spectacles that awaited us down there. I realized that sometimes one has to go down to experience heaven. And Duduma is one such heaven down under.

The return journey was un-eventful except a few brief stoppages to click the chir pine plantations. We returned to Jeypore as it was just getting dark. After a little tea and snacks we(Me, Udayan, Sid and Dada) left out for our farm at Patraput, to spend the night there. Dada had arranged a special feast in our(Udayan and Me) "honour". It was the day after the full moon and the night was none less beautiful than the full moon night. We reached the farm at around 8 in the evening. Dada had left a full chicken in yogurt and spices through out the day. It was to be our dinner. We lit up a campfire and made arrangements to grill the chicken on charcoal. Then started the campfire gossips. Dada smeared the chicken with the masala paste he had prepared for the purpose and kept the chicken rotating on a fresh bamboo stick so that it doesn't burn to char. Warmth of the campfire in that chilly night, aroma of the roasting chicken and the chilly breeze from the nearby fields and the hills beyond them were having some mixed effect on our senses. I was feeling hungry, I was feeling fatigued and I wanted to stay awake the whole night, I wanted to go for a walk in that splendid moonlit night. Sometime during our conversation a pack of jackals yelled out into the night their chorus. I could imagine sitting on my  camp chair,  four to five cunning canids standing on some elevated ground, raising their heads sky ward every time they make that hookay-hoo call. The call of a lone jackal is always associated with evil by the natives. For many people, not habituated to jungles of the night, the howling of a pack of jackals on a silent night can evoke the eeriest of feelings. The chicken was cooked to perfection. We four gorged on the chicken and rotis along with a gravy of chicken prepared at home. I had plans to go out for a walk after dinner but that was not to be. Thanks to the trek of Duduma. Our muscles refused to obey our orders that night. That was it, a tiresome end to Day-4 of our journey. We retired to the farm house verandah for the night. The blankets and our jackets were good enough for a comfortable sleep. The visions of the days proceedings came floating once again to me, lulling me to a slumber. The huts on the ridge, the shade of the mango tree near the ridge and the scenic vista is all but a dream for those who haven't seen it with their own eyes. As the mercury dipped with the night my slumber became deeper and deeper.

Oh dear God, if there exists something like rebirth, then please give me birth in this same land of Koraput, Once again.


Coming Up : Day-5. Exciting Birding in Gupteswar forests and travel through the best Sal forests of Koraput at night.

Re-discovering Koraput : Day-3

Route : 

Forenoon : Semliguda-Nadapur-Balda-Nageshwari Cave-Padua and back to Semliguda

Afternoon : Semliguda-Kunduli-Deomali and Back to Semliguda and then to Jeypore late in the evening.

It was the last week of October and winter had not yet taken the higher plateau of Koraput in its wintry embrace. Even so the morning was too chilly. Coming out from beneath the cosy warmth of my blanket on such a morning was not a very welcoming proposition. But we were on a road trip. I had to leave the bed, very reluctantly though, after several nudge from Udayan. When we came out of the hotel the sun of 29th October 2012 was shining bright in its rising path and had left the rim of Eastern ghat hills a little below. The morning air felt crisp and devoid of moisture. Perfecto. Most of the things I said about the food in Berhampur hold good for Koraput as well, with a few deviations. Today's breakfast consisted of puri and upma. It was nearing 9 am when we left Semliguda.

                                    Blanket of niger flower on the slopes of Koraput 

                                                   Agave plantation on the bare hill slopes.

Not even out of Semliguda town and the landscape around pressed into action their force of beckoning and there was no escaping. We stopped every now and then to click. We stopped and we clicked, we clicked and we stopped. Our ride was along a major district road. The country around was mostly undulating. Hills, as far as the vision went. Most of the low hills on the plateau are devoid of forest. Cultivation of niger seed(Guizotia abyssinica), Finger Millet(raagi)(Eleusine coracana) and Maize is taken up very industriously by the people on these hill slopes. Apart from these crops Cashew nut and agave are planted on many hill slopes. Cashew nut and agave have important role in the economy of the district. Cashew nuts and the fibre from agave are two important agricultural harvests from this region of the district. Apart from the harvest they aid the soil conservation on the hill slopes. Niger seed is also a major produce from this region of the state. The highlands are suitable for cultivation of this exotic plant. The niger flower blooms with the onset of winter and we were travelling right around that time. The hill slope blanketed with niger flower is a sight for sore eyes and offer irresistible frames for a shutter bug. The landscape to our right was bathing in the morning sunlight and looked incredible and to our left the hills had a trace of haze on them but looked equally amazing against the light. For me, the road had many memories attached to it. This is the same road that leads to Padua where we lived for six years between 1990 and 1996. Memories, irrepressible as they are, came floating. When we had to come to Jeypore from Padua we used to catch the bus at 7 o'clock at Padua. Irrespective of the season Maa would wrap us(me and my younger brother Sidharth) in warm clothes, because mornings used to be chilly in Padua, even in the summer back then. My favourite place in the bus would be the window seat or the one nearer to the driver as they offered the best view of the surroundings. I would be staring at the landscape passing by the window in great amusement. Typical Nadeem-Shravan or Anand-Milind songs of the 90's would be blaring from the cassette player in the bus. I was not grown up enough to appreciate the beauty around then. During the early nineties there was only a fair weather bridge across the river at Pitaguda. The bridge would submerge for six months of the year when the back waters of Kolab river swelled and two humongous boats ferried people across the river during this period. The boats were large enough to ferry a Tata 407 along with a horde of other loads. Crossing the river by that ferry was an adventure sort of for Sidhu and me. 

                                                            Agave flower buddings

Coming back to the trip, we reached Balda at about 10.30 am. Balda is a small village at the foot of the hill on which the Nageshwari caves are situated. It is nearly 35 kilometres from Semliguda. We found our way through the village to the caves. Here let me give you a rough idea of the hill we were ascending. It is a table top hill. The flat top is nearly 4 square kilometres in extent and stands at 1260 mtrs above sea level i.e more than 4100 feet. The Nageshwari cave is located on the south-eastern corner of this flat topped hill. The slopes are covered with dense moist deciduous vegetation. The road to the top of the hill winds through the forest on these slopes. When we were planning for a visit to these caves I took the help of Google earth to trace the road and found that there was a decent looking road leading up to the caves from Balda village. However the real picture was something far from what it looked like in Google imagery. The road we were riding on was no road at all. It looked like a well used boulder-strewn mountain path. The lone testimony to it being a road were the bushes which were cleared off by the people using it and gave it the look of a road. The first challenge the trip threw on us. I was leading the way. The first quarter of mile was not a big deal for me or the Classic. The torque that RE had packed into the engine was showing its apparent advantage. I was loving every bit of it. My hands gripping the handle bars firmly, my gaze fixed on the road and an in-suppressible smile on my face. I reached at the top of the first gradient and stopped to look back how Udayan and his TBTS were faring and found them not trailing far behind. A turn and there was the second gradient and the roads worsened. 

                                                There was a "Road" that was not There

                                                     Udayan and his Thunderbird fight the hill

                                          Terrain we rode on.

                                                         View from Nageshwari Hill

Rain water had washed away the soil from the surface, leaving behind a litter of boulders and deep furrows. I made it to the top of the second gradient with much difficulty. But Udayan struggled a lot with his bike. At one point his engine stopped and he started skidding downhill but somehow managed to find a foothold. I went back to help him with the kick start. Because he could not have started the bike himself. I held his bike from behind while he kick started it. The Thunderbird was a little low on power compared to the Classic as it had a slightly lighter crank than the Classic. On the way we saw a group of wood cutters and asked them whether the bikes can go to the top on this road. They said yes but not with much conviction. We decided to proceed, taking it as a challenge. But the hill made it more difficult. I somehow managed to proceed a little further. Udayan stopped at a place and said his bikes clutch wire felt loose and he said it may snap any-time.Shit, I thought. We had another one kilometre to the cave and had no idea what was the condition of the road ahead. Then it dawned upon me what a situation we had run into. If Udayan's bike's clutch wire snapped it could possibly take the whole day to take the bike back to civilization and which meant we will have to postpone the Deomali visit to the next day which we obviously did not want to. We parked our bikes and sat beneath the shade of a mango tree. The sun was shining brightly and we started to feel the heat.Relieving myself from the jacket and camera I started pondering over the situation. Then we agreed mutually that proceeding further will be too risky given the state of road. Trekking to the top was neither a practicable proposition as we would be late for the Deomali drive. So discretion proved to be the better part of valour and we retraced from there after fifteen minutes.

                                                                 The Point of Return

The view from the place, where we were sitting, was serene. The sun midway on the sky felt a little hot for comfort. The back-waters of Jalaput reservoir gleamed in the distance. The vista helped a lot to bring the adrenalin levels down and meanwhile the bike engines also cooled off. The bikes had to be turned around the 50 degree slope very carefully and one at a time. I held for support while Udayan turned his bike and he supported me while I turned mine. I decided to descend first. I descended the slope with my engine running and put the Classic in first gear. I pushed the bike forward inches at a time and Udayan did the same with his engine off. Though climbing down was not very easy, our bikes were saved of the torture this time. But we had to perform a pretty good balancing act on the boulder-strewn mountain path. A stream on the way was good place to quench our thirst. With a promise to return once again and scale to its top we bade good by to the Nageshwari hills and proceeded to Padua.

                                                     The view that soothed our Senses

Roads or No Roads, My Bull took me there, where other mortal bikes fear to Tread

Padua is quaint little village in the remote part of Koraput with immensely beautiful landscape around and a climate that is exceptional. It came into little prominence during the Dandakaranya project. Homeless Bengali refugees were given transient accommodation here before being resettled in other parts of the district. I had not visited the place even for once after we left that place in 1996. This is the place where the first threads of attachment between me and nature were tied. The place had a few government establishment such as a dispensary, a veterinary centre, two schools, branch of a rural bank(of which my father was the manager), a police station and a handful other such offices, most of which ran in the dilapidated Dandakaranya project houses. A small railway station on the base of a hill gave the place a British era charm. Life at Padua was always easy going. Mornings use to be chilly. My school was at a stone throw distance from our house. I used to roam about a lot in the village after school and I remember good thrashings from my father for my overtime wanderings, though I was not mischievous at all. Most of the people liked me a lot in the village and I had free access to every household as a cute child. Thursday used to be the weekly market. I loved accompanying Baba to the haat. Most of our evenings would be spent near the reservoir back waters with Baba. Padua being a remote village suffered from frequent power outages. But we enjoyed the power outage period very much because it disrupted study time and Sidhu and me would coax Baba to tell us jungle tales. 

First we went to the inspection bungalow situated on the top of a knoll over looking the reservoir and the surrounding plateau. This is one of the many British time bungalows that are still there in undivided Koraput district. The location and architecture of the the bungalow fascinated me a lot and I dreamt of constructing my own bungalow in the same fashion as this one when I was a school boy. The bungalow compound and its adjoining scrub forest used to be a favourite haunt of ours. My father used to bring us here for a evenings birding and we would sit on the verandah of the house to see the sun set below the reservoir and hills. The rear portion of the bungalow had been damaged. Buildings such as this one should be preserved for their antique as well as aesthetic values. I always hold the British in awe for the reason that they always choose the best of places to construct their house and bungalows. 

                                                       The British Time Bungalow at Padua

                                                              View from the Bungalow

                                                                      British Charm

Just when we were about to leave the bungalow I spotted a flock of birds which flew from one tree to another as I watched them. I identified them as babblers. Of course they were babblers but babblers that whistled as they flew. Yes, there they were, a flock of Yellow-billed babblers. Yellow-billed babblers are a species of babblers(known as Kundakhia pakhi or Sat Bhai in Odisha). They were the birds I was looking for since a few months. The northern most range of this bird according to the field guides is up to the northern parts of Andhra Pradesh. These birds had never been reported from Odisha. Few months ago I had come across a babbler near Jeypore which looked like a yellow billed babbler. I had not got the confirmation as I had not heard the bird call. But this time I saw them in broad day light and also heard them whistle. The common and jungle babblers make raucous chatter or a metallic '"Ttich" '"Ttich" sound but yellow billed babblers have a sweet whistle like vocalization. We took a few photographs of these birds as a record so that Koraput can be included in their range of distribution later. Then we rode about in the village to see the place where we lived and the school where I started my formal education. The house where we lived was in a very dilapidated condition but the school where I studied had expanded and was in good state. The scenery around looked as beautiful as it used to 16 years ago. Nostalgia. That is what I had come here for. I showed Udayan the above places and told him in brief how my childhood days had passed in this beautiful place. I recognized a few familiar faces in the village but they could not recognize me for obvious reasons. I had left the place when I was a boy of 10 and now there I was as a man of 26 sporting a French beard and riding a Royal Enfield. I preferred not to startle them by divulging my identity and left Padua. 

We returned to Semliguda by 2 o'clock. A hasty bath and a quick lunch followed. I had asked a few of my friends from Jeypore and Sidhu(my younger brother) to accompany us to the top of Deomali. However others failed to turn up and Sidhu delayed his start from Jeypore. It was getting too late. I called him up and told him not to come and we started from Semliguda to Deomali at 3.15 in the afternoon. The plateau looked resplendent in the afternoon light of the sun, the right setting for photography. We took a left turn from the Kundli haat. This haat is famous through out the district for vegetables. The Mali tribe who inhabit the valleys near Deomali are very laborious people and they grow the best vegetables of the region using the traditional organic practices. Kundli haat is where all the vegetables are traded and then make their way to different parts of Odisha and Andhra Pradesh. The arch at Kundli haat welcomes all the visitors to Deomali peak. From Kundli onwards the road passes through a scenic valley with high and bare hills on two sides and cultivation and crystal clear streams in the middle. Anybody passing through this valley with a camera in hand cannot help but stop many times on this road to click pictures. So did we. The afternoon golden light had made the valley even more alluring. Though we were getting late we could not resist the temptation to take pictures. 

                     Deomali Peak, 1672 Mtrs from mean sea level as seen from the road leading to it

                                                      Deomali peak as seen from the valley below.

                                                                       Deomali Here I come

We reach Thuria, the village at the base of Deomali. The road from Thuria to Deomali is a riders delight. The zig-zagging mountain road felt awesome to ride on. As we rode up hill I felt the temperature dipping and the light fading. We reached at the shoulder of Deomali which offers a panoramic view of most of the hills and valleys around it. There is a 3 km stretch of road that runs on the shoulder of the hill and is the most scenic part of the road. The road ends at a place from where the peak is 2 kms away. We could see the sun fast disappearing behind the distant hills. We had to make it to the top of Deomali before darkness. But that seemed an impossible feat now. It was nearing five o'clock and the sun almost ready to go for the night. We were almost two hundred meters below the summit. A family was out there picnicking when we reached. Apart from them there was old cow-herder, smoking a rolled tobacco leaf. He asked for alms with a wide grin to which I could not say no. We decided to trek as far up as possible towards the peak before darkness. The picnicking family left the place as we started our trek, so did the cow-herder along with his custody. 

The roads on Deomali

Right there where it was Made to be

                                                              Eastern side of Deomali

                                                          The magical sunset at Deomali

                                                                 While trekking up Deomali

The only time the tripod was of used

There we were on the mountain, just two of us. With the light fading away rapidly we trekked at a brisk pace. The anabatic mountain breeze was sweeping across the hill side. We reached an observation tower(view point). By now we were a little out of breath. It was almost dark now. To reach the peak was our target, but given the terrain we were walking on it would have been very difficult to come back from the summit unhurt in the dark. The mountain side was full of loose boulders and scrub. There were also many sloth bears on the other face of the hills which we might unknowingly stumble upon inadvertently. I always carry a small Maglite torch with me but that would not have been of much use while trekking up or down. We stop at the watch tower to enjoy the vista for a while before going downhill again. We sat on the tower enjoying the serenity and tranquillity of Deomali. We decided to keep mum for sometime. I inhaled and filled my lungs with the clean and cold mountain air and it had its own magical effect on the body. Every muscle and nerve felt extremely relaxed. A few insects chirped under some boulder or in some bush, a red-wattle lapwing gave its did-you-do-it , did-you-do-it call at some distance, a few birds sang their evening songs to bid adieu to the departing day. To the west, behind the hill, the sun had already sank into a slumber. Only the golden glow of its fading rays lit up the western sky like a golden canvas. To the east I could see the full moon(it was a full moon day) lazily rising above the rim of distant hills. Down below in the valleys to my right and left a thick mist was descending on the villages. We sat there for quite a while. The tower was half broken, some of the steel rods used in its construction had been stolen, the place was littered with polythene wrappers, cigarette packs etc. The tower's walls and pillars served as the "wall of fame" or I must say "wall of name" for many lovers of the district. This has to stop somehow. 

The Vista from the top most watch tower of Deomali

Deomali Landscape 

I was not at all feeling like leaving that place. The only thought that bothered me while sitting there was in case one of our bikes broke down on the way or got a flat tyre we could be in real trouble. I kept that thought to myself and prayed for a safe ride back up to Semliguda. We started our walk back to the place where our REs were parked below. We collected dry brushwood along the way and made a small bonfire on the road for ourselves. The bonfire was a token celebration for having made it to Deomali at last. It was an end to years of waiting, years of yearning and here I was at the Deomali, the highest hill in the whole of Eastern Ghat mountain range. Lighting the fire was not easy though on the windy mountain top. Lighting up the fire we sat there for a while, posed for a few photographs near it. The road on which we were sitting had Maoist slogans and messages written all over it. We call it a day. As the fire died down we started on our way back. The full moon in its full glory lit up the bare mountain side in a ghostly shade. On the way back we saw Barn Owls sitting on the ground, probably the red wattle lapwing which was calling did-you-do-it a few minutes ago and a fox. On one of the U-turns on the way down a few men suddenly appeared with long staves in their hand and gave quite a shock to both of us. Udayan was leading this time. One of the man raised his arm to ask for lift but we did not stop for obvious reasons. I sighed in relief when we reached Thuria village. From then on we drove faster. On the way between Thuria and Kundli Udayan told me there was four-wheeler which was trying to catch up with us. I told him to accelerate and in two minutes we were to far ahead to be caught up with. 

The Bonfire

We reached Semliguda at about 8 o'clock. After having a little snack break there we checked out of the hotel and proceeded on our way to Jeypore, my home town. The journey to Jeypore was uneventful. We reached Jeypore around 9.30pm. That was the end to Day-3. The off road biking earlier in the day gave us the high we were looking for. Deomali without a doubt was the literal high point of our trip. These two beautiful places along with many other in Koraput hold a lot of potential to be promoted as tourist destination. But sometimes it amazes me that many people of Odisha don't have the slightest idea that places like Deomali exist in their own state. Vigorous promotion and good tourist facilities at the right places by the tourism department can definitely help to increase visitors foot fall. Deomali as I noticed has scope for adventure sports such as trekking and para-gliding. My word for any one reading this : Deomali is definitely a place you must see in Odisha. 

Hope you enjoyed the travelogue as much as I loved the travel.

Day-4: To Continue, Trek to the base of 160 mtr high Duduma water fall in the next post. Till then these photographs will keep you company.

For more of my pictures visit my Flickr photo stream at http://www.flickr.com/photos/75813070@N08/
or My Picasa web album at  https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/108824607231013281975/albums