Woods, Rain and Elephant: Overnight Weekend Motorcycle Trip to Mananthavady and Back

The 640 kilometre weekend ride was one of my best motorcycle trips and certainly the most fulfilling. Jose and I saw a record seven elephants on five different occasions on this trip, apart from several herds of deer, a couple of peacocks one of which scampered across Jose’s path in Bandipur, and two large sambar standing right next to the road. With Jose, I’ve covered Bandipur and Masinagudi, the forest stretches of the Nilgiris region, various forest sections of Wayanad, the forest of Madikeri and Coorg further north, Agumbe, the BR hills and the Cauvery sections, and Sathyamangalam. This ride also marked probably my last motorcycle trip in the southern forests. 

Day One Saturday, July 15: A Late Start

We set off later than usual after breakfast at Gottigere at 9:30 am. For the most part, the skies were cloudy throughout, there were occasional showers, and a fine nip in the air throughout the two days. I was a little apprehensive about my motorcycle’s condition. Haven’t serviced it in ages. Besides, I find the Kanakpura stretch quite daunting. The single-lane road, though in good condition, has a lot of villages en route and, as a result, many crazies weaving in and out, flitting across without a care, and even calling for a race! Thankfully, nobody challenges me to a race. That honour is usually bestowed on Jose whose fine Duke 390 with its custom racing stickers evinces a lot of awe and envy. Almost always, he leads and has to wait for me at intersections for a good five minutes.

“Keep flying,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up.”

The RS 200 is capable of sharp cornering but this rider isn't. Whether it is the age or just the style of riding and riding preferences, I don’t know. I’m just a laid back tourer instead of an amateur Moto GP or rally rider. Jose usually reaches a pitstop and finishes his tea and only then do I catch up.

Kanakpura and Malavalli

There’s a little restaurant in Kanakpura – I forget the name – where all bikers like us stop for breakfast and coffee. From there, we ride through the madness to Malavalli and stop at the corner shop before deciding which road to take to our destination. This time, a potbellied, moustachioed gentleman rode to the tea stall on a Honda Activa and stood admiring Jose’s KTM and its custom stickers. He struck up a conversation with Jose, asked him about the cost of the stickers and the top speed that the Duke can touch and all.

The bikes resting at Malavalli tea stall

“I have a Kawasaki 650,” he boasted. “But it’s at home. For regular rounds I only take the Activa. My Kawasaki easily touches 100 kmph.”

“Oh, the Kawasaki 650 is can touch 180 with ease,” Jose said, adding that he has locked 

his Duke’s rev range at 7000 rpm so he cannot exceed 120 kmph, which suits a touring ride. The man went on to ask him about his origins. Where he is from? Bangalore, where you stay? Originally from where? Bangalore, only? No meaning your native place? Kerala? You still know Kannada? If I go to Kerala, do the people there know to speak in English or Hindi?

“Malayalis also know Valerian and Dothraki and the coarse tongue of those living beyond the wall, like you wildlings,” I wanted to add. There is only so much that you can do to or tell a frog in the well. The nincompoop doesn’t deserve a 650, if at all he really has one.

Off the Beaten Track

Off we road via the scenic village roads to T. Narasipura. Spotted a Common Indian Roller on a TV cable wire next to a pretty reservoir which was swollen with rainwater. All along the way, villagers had laid out their harvested crops of some sort on the road. We negotiated around them, sometimes riding over the carpet of crops, and reached T. Narasipura, from where we connected to Nanjangud.

The Foolishly Fast and the Furious

Jose writing notes in his logbook

The ride to Gundlupet is a bit unnerving on this stretch. We’ve ridden down this road before and even then I’d told Jose that the driving on this stretch is wild and dangerous. You’ve got to have sharp senses and keenly watch traffic on the road, anticipate which donkey is going to err and drive or ride into you, or scamper across the road like an idiot. Besides, it also rained in spurts while we gunned down this stretch. The problem with intermittent rain is that the roads get mucky and slippery. The ABS is of great help in such circumstances, yet you’ve got to be extra careful here with the crazies zipping around you.

The Café Coffee Day at Gundlupet is another favourite halt. Jose made a few notes in his log book as we wolfed down chicken burgers with veggies and Café Americanos. The forest stretch was coming.

Elephants One and Two

We entered the Bandipur National Park on the Bandipur-Mudhumalai stretch. The weather was beautiful, there were a few drizzles, but nothing hazardous along the way. We came across a large herd of deer on our side, then on the other, and later a pair of large sambar does appeared right beside the road. Cars had stopped to take pictures and the swamp deer didn’t seem to mind. We continued and Jose was greeted by a peacock that ran across the road and perched up a tree. Just before we reached the Bandipur camp, a scrawny female elephant appeared beside the road. I’d never seen an undernourished elephant in my life. It looked like a large cow. Cheeks had sunk into the bone and even the ribs of the cow elephant jutted out. The elephant wasn’t planning to cross the road, but we still asked the chaps who had stopped their car right in front of it to allow it space to pass. They took pictures and drove away but the elephant continued to stand there beside the road.

Deer close to the road

The first elephant

We saw the next elephant on the other side of the river near Masinagudi. At first, I thought it was a tamed elephant of the forest officials, because a tusker of the forest guys was being bathed in the river. We stopped again but a forest guard in the guard house urged us to keep moving, so we rode on, happy to have seen two elephants at least in Bandipur for the first time! We saw several more deer in the Mudhumalai section, and signboards saying “Crucial elephant crossing path. Go slow.”

All smiles after the first sighting

Elephant two

“I hope we get to see a tiger,” Jose said as he slowed down for me to sidle up. “Or a sloth bear!”

We were asking for too much.

Tea Gardens and Forests and Rain

Bikes at a pitstop near Gudalur

Tea gardens en route to Sultan Bathery

More tea gardens

At Gudalur, we missed the little eatery we had stopped at last year where we had delicious, spicy beef curry and Malabar porotta. The place we stopped at this time didn’t serve beef. So we settled for porottas and egg curry and tea, and rode on. The Gudalur-Sultan Bathery stretch, I’m scared of. It rains, there are several twisties through the lovely tea garden and hill forest stretches, the roads are caked with mud thus making it slippery, the winds are strong and chilly, all potential hazards. I slow down to 35-40 kmph on these hairpin bends, not having enough courage to bend and twist as Jose does.

Elephant Three

By the time we left Sultan Bathery and took the Pulpally section, where in September last year, we’d spotted a tusker, it was 5 PM. A fantastic St. Thomas Cathedral appeared and I wanted to take pictures but Jose had gone way ahead and it was beginning to turn dark. We had some more forest to cover, and didn’t want to run into a tusker in the dark, so I kept riding. Midway through the section, at a curve in the forest, we saw an SUV halt. Definitely, an animal had been spotted. Far off from the road in the thick foliage, we saw the head and fanning ears and the massive back of a tusker. It was no use trying to take pictures using the mobile phone. The elephant was far off from the road and with the growing darkness and the cover of trees, I would’ve got nothing. The chaps in the SUV had a DSLR with telephoto lens and all. They stayed and took pictures, while we rode on.

Dusk and rain en route to Mananthavady

Uncle’s Place at Mananthavady

Jose suggested a quick diversion to Kuruva Island, which stands in the middle of the Kabini river amid thick woods where also there was the prospect of running into an elephant. The guards posted at the river said the island is off limits during the monsoon season, so we had to contend with viewing the wilderness from the river bank. I heard jackals howling, which I first thought was kids in a nearby village fooling around. As we returned to the main road to Mananthavady, dusk had set in. It rained off and on, and the road and the forest around it turned pitch dark. Yet, not dark enough for Jose to miss the signboard that read: Toddy.

We had 2 glasses each, but the palm toddy was nowhere as good as the fresh brew that we had had last weekend near Shivana Samudra falls. That was, however, the last stop we made. Fifteen minutes later, we reached Jose’s uncle’s house.

Uncle Savio, or Uncle Sabu as he is fondly called, is a college principal and Aunty Shanthi is a teacher at the same college. Both bespectacled, warm and friendly, they both look the part of academicians, although I would also mistake Uncle Sabu for a priest. Thin, peppery beard and moustache, and bald headed, I would probably end up looking like him when I get to his age.

We’ve a lot to thank Uncle Sabu for accommodating us for a second time. Like Irish beggars, we always reach their place after dark, have the scrumptious dinner Aunty so lovingly prepares, retire to bed, wake up – and wake them up too – the next morning, a Sunday, and rush out after breakfast. Shameless fellows that we are! It’s always when we reach Bandipur that I remember that I haven’t picked up anything for them. Even a good bottle of wine would do, but where can one find good wine in the forest?

Like last time, Jose engaged Uncle Sabu in some spirited discussion about his newfound atheism and his plans of moving to Canada by early 2018. Yes, he’s going. And I hope to be gone from Bangalore too by then. I’m on the verge of finally getting a transfer to the Mumbai office. Once again, after 2015, I’ll be packing up and leaving Bangalore. Sachin, the third Malayali musketeer, will also be busy this year once his second baby is born. There is nothing left for me in Bangalore. I also want to migrate to Canada like Jose and have to begin working towards that goal. If that doesn’t work out, at least I want to stay in my hometown from now on.

Day Two: Elephants Encore in Bavali?

Bavalli forests 

Bavali forests. Precious corridor between Nagarahole and Bandipur Mudhumalai.

Jose was up for most of the night he said. I’d woken up at 3:15 AM, as usual, but I could go back to sleep fortunately. It was raining and quite pleasantly cold, and I snuggled off to sleep, but could feel a faint sway within, as though I were still riding furiously through twists and bends on some hill stretches. Later, over fresh appams and tea, Jose told me that he heard some superbikes screech and speed down the road past midnight. He also enquired about the possibility of seeing elephants on the Bavali stretch. The road crosses the buffer zone of Nagarahole and Wayanad sanctuaries and is also acts as a forest corridor for animals between these two parks and the Bandipur-Mudhumalai forests. Thiruneli temple is close to this stretch, where I’ll have to go with my folks in September to complete some rites for my grandmother who passed away in September. Jose suggested riding to the place because it seems there’s a place where they make fantastic unni appams. Eventually, we continued to Bavali.

The forest cover here is splendid. The woods are thick and the jungle is perfect tiger and elephant country. After the buffer zone stretches where there are several tribal villages, the jungle closed in on us and we slowed down, not because we were frightened but because we were awestruck and wanted to soak in the beauty and majesty of the forest. A WagonR slowed in front of us. To the right, we saw three elephant cows not far from the road. Three elephants at once! What a beautiful start to the morning ride! A little later, we halted again as we were presented with the best sighting ever of an elephant. A full-grown tusker, with tusks that almost scraped the ground, stood right next to the road, paying no heed to us or the vehicles slowing down, foraging in the bushes and feeding on the fresh, juicy grass.  Jose raced ahead and stopped far off, but I couldn’t move, so awestruck I was by the sight of the pachyderm! I switched off the engine and watched the elephant for a good five minutes, before riding away halfheartedly. It was a stupid thing to do. If the elephant turned and charged, I would’ve been finished. But I didn’t get off the motorcycle and somehow, I had the feeling that the tusker was used to an audience, because it wasn’t even fanning its ears or swishing its tail, which is what agitated elephants usually do.

One of the 3 female elephants that we saw this morning

The final and best sighting: A tusker right next to the forest road

We rode out, wove through some village roads where I could not read the signboards, until we finally reached the ring road outside Mysore. From there, it was the usual traffic and the usual madcap blasting through to Bangalore at a minimum of 95-100 kmph. At NICE road, we finally said goodbyes, and that we would probably meet on the 29^th next, in Bangalore airport. Another trip, this time not on motorcycles. And to a place neither of us have been to before. Watch this space.

After reaching the ring road near Mysore