My Cycling Expedition to Karavali. 670km, 3 friends, 5 days! : The Journey away from home!

The Narrator

The desire popped up when I had joined the college for my degree and had met few old friends who were so much into cycling. They were making plans for the vacation and we later decided to go to Hangarkatte village on the Arabian Sea coast. It was 360 km from Mysuru all the way up and down the Western Ghats. As it was monsoon, we couldn’t have made it right then. That’s what others said and we had to with hold the plan for a year and a half.

Soon after the semester exams Enosh and Sudharshan re initiated the same plan and I knew this was my vacation adventure. I still had to wait for was my last external exam. That didn’t stop us from meeting upon a cup of coffee to figure out the distances covered by us each day and where to stop over for the night. With a lot of heated debate the road map was finalized till the last minute. Enosh had a lot of maternal cousins in the coast, fixed up the stay for our nights. The very next day of my exam, even before the strike of the dawn we hit the roads with our bicycles in good condition and with all the necessary gears on backpack. We had already crossed Mysuru even before the sun rose and the unfriendly traffic on the Hunsur road built up.

That day we had to reach Madikeri by night fall covering a distance of 118km,  but unexpectedly had made it by 4 in the evening.  We were astonished by our own timing. Thanks for our early start! Some of the locals said Sullia is just down hill from here and we wanted to cover it rather than spend the evening at Madikeri. As we moved out of Madikeri town we had to face a steep elevation.  For a moment I remembered the faces of the people who made us believe it was coasting down hill all the way, but it was just worse as reaching the hill station of Madikeri. We had to pedal and pedal. And finally the long stretch of depression that the native had mentioned appeared in front of us. It was pleasing for all of us and in a couple of minutes we covered a huge distance effortlessly.  For a minute I could not resist the rush of the poetry by the American poet Henry Charles Beeching called “Going down hill on a bicycle”.

A Boy’s Song

With lifted feet, hands still,

I am poised, and down the hill

Dart, with heedful mind;

The air goes by in a wind.

Swifter and yet more swift,

Till the heart with a mighty lift

Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:—

“O bird, see; see, bird, I fly.

“Is this, is this your joy?

O bird, then I, though a boy,

For a golden moment share

Your feathery life in air!”

Say, heart, is there aught like this

In a world that is full of bliss?

‘Tis more than skating, bound

Steel-shod to the level ground.

Speed slackens now, I float

Awhile in my airy boat;

Till, when the wheels scarce crawl,

My feet to the treadles fall.

Alas, that the longest hill

Must end in a vale; but still,

Who climbs with toil, wheresoe’er,

Shall find wings waiting there.

As we where approaching the coast line, we could sense the change in humidity and hot currents bruised our chin even though the sun had lost its sheen. It was getting dark and we were still peddling. The headlights of the speeding cars started blinding us and making it risky to proceed.

We settled for the day at a local Hotel and we set upon exploring the local delicacies.  Dakshina Kannada is hub of verities of tasty food and locally made sodas; we relished on it until all our dehydration was fulfilled. 

The 2^nd day began from sullia towards hangarkatte for which we had to pass through the crowds of Mangalore and Udupi. On the way we met a cyclist from sullia and he was amazed with our adventure. He spoke to us for a couple of minutes and suggested a mess for our breakfast which we found after descending two hills. As he mentioned it was a small hut in an obscure place called ‘Amchinadka’ on the state highway. . Soon after several rounds of the traditional neeru-dose our journey began. By afternoon we were in Mangalore. I was quite exhausted and craving for a power nap. After lunch we halted in a bus shelter and I slept peacefully for half an hour.

We still had to cover 75 km to reach hangarkatte. We knew our capabilities and there was no reason to hurry. The beautiful sunset on the river beds and on the road was wonderful to watch. The evening sun had set a crimson tint to the air. Being close to the sea level we were used to the hot air brushing past our tanned faces. By eight we were in the destination very much exhausted.

We were half way through our expedition. We came across so many people and some had had come up with various queries regarding our intent. Some interviews began with was this fete a desirous vow you had taken up some god or goddess? Very few where impressed and even inspired; those who had cycled earlier expressed their nostalgia.

Between Puttur and Udupi the road gets narrower at a few places even though it is a national Highway and handles enormous traffic connecting Mumbai. The historic cyclone at Chennai that played havoc among the local residents had actually made our journey less tiring. Every time the cyclone strikes in the coast of Bay of Bengal, the in-land farmers enjoy a cool temperature even though the rains are not too timely. We have seen the farmers of Rayal Seema, one the most arid regions in Southern India enjoying their bounty when ever the epicenter of the cyclone is off the mark of Andrapradesh. In fact we enjoyed and took advantage of the favorable climate. However we felt sad on knowing the severity of the cyclonic floods and the poor way the Govt of Tamil Nadu had handled the situation.

We spent 3 nights on the karavali cost wandering around and gaining weight for the return journey as a migrant winter visitor that comes to our shores from across the Himalayas. We interacted with the fishermen, heard their stories and enriched ourselves. They warned us very sternly not to swim in the delta as the waters were thoroughly unpredictable in this season. We strolled lazily for miles looking for the invertebrates thrown on to the shore by the waves. Crabs, urchins, mollusks and echinoderms of various sorts were strewn across the shore.  

- Sangamesh