Chembra

As kids, my little brother and I would look forward to bed-time stories that dad would tell us every night. One of my favorites is that of how the Mount Everest was humbled by Tensing and Hillary. I would get so carried away that every other day I would force dad to repeat the "tension" story. My persistence may have rubbed off on my brother too because he would chorus in my whines.

Recently, my friends and I scaled Chembra, the tallest peak in Wayanad (Kerala). We had three obstacles to trail before we got started - the fickle weather; warnings about rough terrain made worse by incessant rains; and our own "it's-overwhelming" demon (on second thoughts, there were four, not three hurdles, if I must add blood-starved leeches; oh! Anand, how can I forget the blood shed and bitterness.) It was as though four of us had four different views about the trek. If at all we agreed on one thing, it was photography. Gods Own Country has plenty on offer and Chembra was no exception. But before we could smell the aroma of lush tea plantations en route to the hills, we had to kill the devils within.

We set ourselves milestones - three in all. First, reach the watch tower at the foothill and seek a guide; second, reach the first camp site - a trek of nearly 45 minutes to reach a heart-shaped lake; third, proceed to the peak if the weather is clear.

We were at the foothill of Chembra watching the awesome peak, when Mother Nature sent down a gentle shower to bless our trek. The weather was bountiful and pleasant, but we had read into the warning sooner than later, that heavens may pour their fury on us anytime. We were in a spot - should we go or should we abort. Of what worth is a visit to Chembra if we don’t visit the heart-shaped lake in the lap of nature! Our aunts would tease us to wits end for our cowardly behavior. Filled with surreal enthusiasm, we set out for the watch tower in search of a guide. We agreed to hire a guide even though Shashank is no stranger to Chembra. A seasoned climber aware of the local terrain would be what the doctor prescribed; he will be our best bet in times of danger, be it from snakes, leeches, or forces of nature. Our joy didn't last long because the officers and the only guide among them bluntly refused to join us in the trek. They only raised their eyebrows to check that we were not carrying beverages. Regurgitating the care-for-nature rules, they sternly warned us against using mobile phones when (and if) we reach the peak. Despite our requests (rather groans), they unmindfully continued playing cards.