The Accidental Hiker

This post is dedicated to the memory of Dr.S.R.Srinivasan (27 April 1926 - 16 Oct 2012) (Fondly known as Appa by all those who knew him and benefited from his cheerful optimism and indefatigable spirit. And who admired him for his awesome artistic talents.) The village of Chinchavali woke up to a swirl of dust as Kamal's Mitsubishi Lancer ground to a halt. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the plume and created a radial pattern in the air as we got down from the car. Tanaji and Tukaram were soon summoned and Shridhar set off with Tanaji up the normal route whilst I detoured to the left with Tukaram. Shridhar was carrying a portable battery operated megaphone like the ones that policemen use for crowd control and he hoped that shouting through this device would be a more effective way of reaching Franklyn and Appa (as the senior Srinivasan, Shridhar's father, had always been referred to by his loving family). I headed for the place where the gul

The sweat cooled off my shirt as we descended the gully between Chanderi and Mhasmal. I was glad for the respite from the heat of that November day in 2003. It was the first day of the month, but it had felt like a humid and sticky summer day all afternoon. The sun was now well hidden from us as we came down on the east side of the Chanderi hill and the light was quickly fading. Behind me I could hear Shreyas and Shruti and Shyama and Shridhar negotiating the trail : the sound of shoes slithering on the scree, the crack of twigs as they snapped beneath someone's weight, the rustle of dry leaves as tired shoulders brushed past, the occasional "ouch!" as one of them stubbed a toe. Shreyas Map by the late Arun Samant for Harish Kapadia's "Trek the Sahyadris" (5th Edition) The village of Chinchavli is spelt Chinchli on the map. I reached the point where the trail crosses a dry gully to the other side. It was almost dark and very quiet. I could b

This time it wasn't me who fell. You might be forgiven for assuming that I, like Julius Caesar, "hath the falling sickness" if you have been following my other blogs The Accidental Climber ( http://taccidental.blogspot.com/2012/06/mayhem-at-mumbra.html ) and The Accidental Trekker ( http://accidentaltrekker.blogspot.com/2012/08/life-begins-at-10000-feet.html ) Franklyn Silveira, my hiking friend over many decades, was the Fall Guy this time! Worse, he had slipped on a patch of wet rock while carrying tiny little Shruti piggyback on his shoulders. Miraculously, Shruti was intact but Franklyn's psyche was not. Shruti's mother Shyama was even more perturbed and relieved Franklyn of his babysitting duties immediately! It was June 1995 and this was my first taste of Basgadh. Over the next ten years, Basgadh steadily graduated to become one of my all time favourite destinations in the Sahyadri. Why am I so besotted with Basgadh? When you consider tha