khanabadosh

Tyger Tyger burning bright, 

In the forests of the night: 

What immortal hand or eye, 

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

(William Blake, The Tyger, 21-24) 

They are subjects of legends and fables. They inspire awe and reverence, and represent immense power and towering prestige. They are romanticized for their iconic form, stunning beauty, poetic movements, and of course, those famed searing eyes. This is a post about these two majestic beasts . . .

The Choice

I am a fan of engines, especially those on two wheels. It has been my dream for years to experience the sheer torque and delicate movements that these machines have, and ride on the endless roads on these beauties. I have owned and ridden several kinds of motorcycles, but the most powerful among them had been the RE Bullet 500  and the KTM Duke 200. The elite ones so far, had remained elusive.

Now finally being in a position to buy one of the high-end motorcycles, comes the question of choosing which one, and this speculation also has been in the pipes for years. Triumph is definitely going to be my first brand. I have been a fan boy of theirs ever since I saw Steve McQueen hustling a TR6R in the Great Escape.

Now Triumph makes bikes for all moods; from classic-retros to super-sports, from cruisers to roadsters, and all the models are highly respected and coveted. So, which type and model to pick from this spectacular catalog.

For the longest time I have wanted the Triumph Bonneville for obvious reasons. It's a retro-style street-bike with an enormous legacy and reputation, and absolutely gorgeous looks. But, having ridden a Bullet, which is probably just a scaled down version of the Bonnville, for the past five years I wanted something different. Cruisers are cumbersome and out of the question while sports-bikes in my opinion are meant for the track. The bike I relate to would have be for the open roads and long rides, for gliding the mountainous curves and grinding rock and dirt. The Tiger, their adventure-tourer, seemed the obvious choice.

The Plan

Courtship is necessary before any serious commitment, even if it's love at first sight. I wanted to experience the Tiger in its element for a sufficient enough duration before tying the knot. Luckily, Wicked Rides in Bangalore give them out for rent. So, we decided to make make a trip out of the test ride.

My friend Robo also had been looking to buy a new motorcycle. He chose the Kawasaki Versys as his muse for this trip to rent out. Reba, another friend, and a highly ambitious/adventurous motorcycle novice also signed on. She would be riding the KTM Duke 200, the best "budget" bike in the market then. She was still a motorcycle-trip virgin as a rider, having only recently learnt operating her Duke, and so this trip was going to be a coming off age event her, having to ride a powerful geared-bike out in the country for hundreds of kilometers solo for the first time. However, Robo and I would be with pillions, Kanika (Robo's wife) and Lee (my girlfriend) respectively.

I have had a love-hate relationship with National Park safaris. Like gambling, there is always an anticipation of seeing nature in its full glory. But all of my five previous excursions have been disappointments. In my safaris so far, I have probably seen all the deers in India, with some jackals and wild boars to spare. By far, the most atypical thing I have seen was two cobras mating in the monsoons, which I still have mixed feelings about. Of course, the sight that everyone wishes to witness is that of the King of the Jungle in his element, and given my abysmal track record, I was highly pessimistic about the seeing anything remotely as interesting in Mudumalai. However, I was still looking forward to it with great anticipation.

There was this time before the age of Wikipedia where I did some extensive research on Tigers of Asia for a school summer project and learnt any and everything about them in the process. We had to hand write our findings and my report was the biggest in the class. Back then I wondered about a career in wildlife conservation and a part of me still does.

Given this background, I have always looked forward to visiting National Parks in spite of the abysmal results. Seeing the phantom predator in the jungle's shadows, even for once, would be an event of a life time for me.

The Initiation

We picked the bikes from Wicked Rides the night before the trip. I approached the machine with caution, she looked formidable. With height and wheelbase of 1.5 meters and a 19 liter fuel tank she was a leviathan. Additionally, the unseen numbers were making me dizzy. With an engine firing up 94 bhp and 79 Nm tourque, this would be the the biggest, most powerful bike I would have ever revved, let alone ride. 

My mind started flashing all my previous crashes, screw-ups and accidents, and it was with that  anxious frame of mind that I now mounted the tiger started her engine and revved. The sound of the inline-triple engine was like alien spaceship. I launched the bike onto the road and it felt stunningly nimble and even with it's massive power and pickup the transmission and control was like butter. I had finally broken into the world of super bikes and it felt amazing.

Bangalore to Masinagudi

Lee and I packed up the bike rack with some luggage using bungee cables, in effect making the back seat into a couch, and started off early in the morning. We met up with the others nearby and headed South-West towards Mysore.

Even at 7 am in the morning there was a decent amount of traffic in spite of it being a Sunday. However I found the bike pretty comfortable to maneuver, although I was eagerly waiting for the wide-open roads to experience the bike's real potential.

About half an hour into the drive, while still in heavy traffic, I saw the bikes thermometer shoot up to critical. I tried to correct my driving style, use lower RPM, speeding a bit etc. to get the temperature down but nothing worked. We decided to stop at a fuel-station to sort out this issue. We called up Wicked-Rides but they did not pickup, which was expected this early on a Sunday. We checked the oil and it was fine. Then we figured how to read the coolant level and found out to our dismay that it was empty! We bought some coolant and distilled water at the station, made a concoction and filled in the tank and hoped that would fix the problem. In the mean time I got myself a Red Bull and made a mental note to give the rental guys a mouthful about this episode. 

Bangalore-Mysore highway, or NH 275, is always an extremely busy road. There are strings of towns and villages connecting the two cities, and there is no open stretch any where till the Mysore bypass. It was at this bypass where we finally got out of the cluster fuck and finally experienced space. A long, wide and empty stretch of road. I gave the tiger just a bit of race, and she picked up like a ballerina on boosters. Glancing down at  the speedometer showed that I was already touching 140 kph! It was unreal. I was very tempted to unleash the beast, let her roar at full volume and sear through that road, but due to the rental policies I had to be careful not to go beyond 120 too much, sigh.

The road from Mysore till Bandipur (NH 766) was also pretty empty, but it was a narrow dusty two-lane highway. At one point two other tigers passed by and the riders gave us a thumbs-up which gave me a sense of belonging in the cult.

It was the month of April and this whole route was mostly dry, sandy and hot, my feet were getting baked from the heat from the tarmac.

You are always given an advisory about elephant herds when crossing nature reserves here. They are extremely territorial and they will give you hell if they are startled. There are several news stories and videos and first hand accounts of elephant aggression in this area, many of them resulting in casualties. Luckily, we did not encounter any at this time.

Around three o'clock, soon after we pass the National Parks we reached our stay in Masinagudi, the forest resort Wild Haven.

Wild Haven

We cut from the main road and drove down a long track to reach the resort deep inside the forest.

We got acquainted with Roshan and his friend and partner Neel. After freshening up we had a good lunch and sat down to have a long chat with the owners and staff while the afternoon turned into a golden evening. 

Wild Haven has a large compound surrounded by wilderness. There are fences and wires and the dogs to keep animals out, but there herds of cheetal deer grazing right in front of us.

Roshan also told us that ever so often they get more formidable visitors like boars, wild elephants and leopards. Even tigers show up sometimes to have a drink from a small lake in the compound. So it was advisable to not go for nature walks at night.

We were escorted to out cottages where we unwinded for a while. They looked like vintage constructions, and were pretty spacious and comfortable.

After dark we headed to the bon-fire that the staff sets up every evening.

On the menu were potatoes baked in the fire's embers and a very interesting beer called British Empire. As the liquor scene in Tamil Nadu is weird, I was not complaining. In fact, it tasted fresher than Kingfisher and after a day of riding it was as good as any drink.

Some of Roshan's friends too had dropped in that evening and we all gathered around the fire and got to know each other. We had many conversations and shared a few stories. The evening had some some songs too and at one point Reba and I broke into Indian Ocean's Kandisa.

Another highlight of the evening was this pyromaniac kid who was interested in finding out how fire reacted with anything he could get his hands on.

Around nine o'clock, we were invited to the mess hall and were served some a very satisfying dinner especially cooked for us. After this we called it a night and tucked in to the sounds of the jungle.

Nilgiris, Ooty and Coonoor

Lee and I got up extra early next morning due to issues with my medication. I woke up breathless before dawn and was afraid to go back to sleep. We wanted to go out for some air and water and to get my heart pumping, but the stories tigers prowling kept us inside the room. After waiting around seemingly forever, with the first light of dawn, we summoned enough courage to take a fast stroll to the kitchen and found the three dogs there to welcome us.

We spent the morning with the boxers, taking in the misty ambiance with some local coffee that the staff brewed for us, which was a pretty god way to start your day in the end I guess.

We got all ready by ten for the treat of the trip, the curves of the road up the blue mountains, i.e. the Nilgiris. Neel also accompanied us for the ride on his Duke 390. The climb started soon after we left Masinagudi with the steepest and sharpest 'S' curve I have ever taken. These were the first of the thirty-six hairpins that were to follow.

The tiger took them in a stride, with a feather like pickup and perfect balance. The road was good with not a lot of traffic. This ride was going to be amazing.

The climb up also was steep, and pretty soon were deep inside the blue haze of the mountains. The vegetation changed from scrub-land to alpine and the temperatures dropped and the view of the hills was breathtaking.

As we approached Ooty the the surroundings became more urban and the roads became congested. At one point we got stuck in a traffic jam which took us half-an-hour to get out of. I was worried that my bike will start heating up again but the alpine temperatures prevented that from happening. Neel however had to bailed out at this point because his Duke started boiling. Ooty was way too crowded and congested for our liking. People, vehicles and garbage had taken over all the space and there were big buildings everywhere. It did not seem that have the charm it once had when I visited the place as a kid. Lee too concurred.

After crossing Ooty everything was peaceful. The stretch of road going to Coonoor was a boulevard. It was a virtually empty stretch with tall trees and tea plantations and was relatively straight and even.

We planned to make a stop in an army cantonment area called Wellington as both Lee and Robo had spent a part of their childhood there. Chief on their agenda there, apart from reminiscing, was getting some coffee and cookies at <> bakery. We also paid a visit to Lee's aunt and uncle who have been living in Wellington for years.

Soon after leaving the cantonment we reached Coonoor and the town won me over in no time. It seemed to be a place comfortably settled in the colonial times. There were charming cottages and vintage mansions and retro streets. The town had a serene flow and tranquil clime.

The town is actually know for its Anglo-Indian schools. There clientele includes India's elites, NRIs and even Europeans. Lee also happened to attend one of these school and was excited to see the campus again.

We stopped for lunch at La Belle Vie, colonial villa recast as a cosy hill resort.

The building maintains its vintage feel and classic interiors.

. . . and some of the decorations belong to a different age.

They have a big courtyard with a delightful garden . . .

. . . and it has a great view of Coonoor and the surrounding areas.

Lee mentioned that this place was an abandoned lot when she used to live here and acted like a playground for her and her school-mates.

After a very classy and luxurious lunch, we headed for a visit to Lee's sister, who lives in a small village close to Coonoor. We climbed a bit to reach there, riding through narrow rustic roads, refreshing vistas and even more tea plantations. Their house was literally perched on a hilltop and had spectacular view of pristine nature all around. We spoke for sometime and had some tea brewed from the local plantations, after which we started our journey back to Masinagudi.

We had had a splendid day so far, wandering around aimlessly in the hills, breathing in the pure mountain air and soaking in the bluish-greenery at our leisure, and now, we were running late. Having already experienced the torturous turns while climbing up this morning, we wanted to avoid going down-hill on that route in the dark. Going down is tricky, in any context. What delayed us further was Modi's demonetization drive. We had made a fuel stop at this gas station in Ooty, and we were out of cash and they neither accepted our cards nor Paytm etc. Reba and Lee went out to search for cash in all the nearby ATMs, which were dried out of any cash and they returned after half-an-hour from a desperate and futile search. During this time the station owner and his employees had started acting like jerks <what reason>. Finally we made the via a direct bank transfer in the midst of abysmal network coverage.

By the time we got back to the plains, it was in fact quite dark. But the ride was reasonably smooth and the twilight and the nightlights actually made for an enchanting ride.

We reached Wild Haven with another bon-fire waiting for us. After chilling of a bit we had a quick dinner and called it a day.

Next morning we decided to do another ride up Ooty to relive the experience, it being the last day of our trip. Also on the agenda was buying chocolates to carry back home and scoring some good liquor for our final night in the wilderness. Lee had decided to stay back and chill at the lodge with a book, some coffee and with the dogs of course. In stead, Reba was to be my pillion this time and she was excited to be on a "super bike" for the first time.

The ride up as sweet as it was the previous day, and also much faster as we were used to roads and our machines. 

For chocolates we stopped at this famous outlet and bakery called Cocopods. They had a gazillion variety of chocolates, with all the shapes and shades. Their preparations are probably the best home made chocolates I have had and would highly recommend them. Their coffee and desserts are not too bad either.

In Tamil Nadu, good alcohol is notoriously hard to get by. We had to looked up a TASMAC shop and found it somewhere near Ooty town-center on the first floor of an obscure and a very shady looking building. But, when we entered it was like hitting the jackpot. The shop had a bedazzling selection of premium liquor, and that too at a discounted price. We came back with a bottle Taliskar and some local wine.

We came back down to Wild Haven at around two in the after noon. The last item in our list was the tiger safari scheduled for that evening. We headed for Mudumalai.

A Grim History

When Rudyard Kipling wrote his famous book at the end of the nineteenth century, there were between fifty  to hundred thousand tigers in the forests of India. Even back then people from all around the world used to come here in droves for tiger safaris, with intention of taking home big game trophies however. 

Hunting down tigers was considered a favorite hobby of the rich and the elite. The kings and the local authorities used to organize massive "shikars" for their guests. 

Tiger trophies were sought with such fervor that more than eighty thousand of them were brought down between 1875-1925. After 1947, the trophy hunting trend reached maniacal levels, where anyone with a gun set to the jungles out to bring back an easy premiere reward.

By 1950's tiger skin products were a big rave in the Western markets, and the killing continued, until hunting tigers was banned, finally, in 1971. By then only 1800 tigers were left in the wild in India. It was in this grim scenario that Indira Gandhi took the reins on the country and the wildlife conservation effort. In the words of some environmentalists she became "India's Greatest Wildlife Savior".

Project Tiger was launched in 1973 by Indira Gandhi, which still stands out one of the most successful models for wildlife conservation, and was a spectacular success in the 1970s. In ten years tiger population increased to around 4000.

During the late 80's however the tiger population started dropping. The poaching for traditional Chinese medicine trade had hit the Indian Subcontinent, sparking the "second tiger crisis". 

Meanwhile, Project Tiger fell into a disarray, riddled with corruption and neglect. Their funds were embezzled by local politicians, guard posts were not refilled for years, and whatever guards did remain carried sticks to fight off poachers carrying AK47s.

All this while, the authorities stayed in denial about free falling tiger populations. That was until 2006. The nation was galvanized when it confirmed that not a single tiger had survived in the Sariska Tiger Reserve. The second, even bigger shock came soon after in 2008, a tiger census with a new, more accurate method, showed that only 1400 tigers were left. A $400 million investment and 34 years of Project Tiger was all undone.

However, these grim revelations brought about some massive changes and amendments in the wildlife conservation effort. The National Tiger Conservation Authority, established in 2005, was hugely empowered with a bigger budget and purview. New stricter law were established and diligently enforced. Conservation methods were made more advanced and more involved. Special Tiger Proctection Force was setup in several states which were most heavily affected by poaching.

The number of Tiger reserves too were increased from the original nine to more than fifty. Mudumalai was one of the parks which was reinstated as a Tiger Reserve and brought under the authority of NTCA and Project Tiger in 2007.

Company of Giants

We took an open air jeep to Mudumalai Park Office provided by the lodge. While heading there we so several herds of deer grazing in the thorn bushes. 

We could feel the predicament of the the animals as it was hot and dry and the landscape was looked tired from the long hard summer. We also saw a family of wild elephants obscured in the vegetation. This reminded us of the stories about rampaging elephants and so we followed the necessary etiquettes by shutting up.

On reaching the ticket counter in the park office, we found that our ride was going to start two hours later, it would start around four and end at dusk, which would be perfect. That's when all the animals come out from their siestas and the golden-hour light would great for shooting too. However, now we had a lot of time to kill.

Next to the office there is was an information center/museum about the park, which we surveyed for a bit. Then we roamed around the office compound were we saw a bunch of frenzied monkeys and tranquil deer flocks, the usual wildlife.

All of a sudden we heard trumpeting in close proximity. We turned around to see an elephant and her very young calf right across the road. 

The sight was a both beautiful and scary. We were thoroughly aware how dangerous wild elephants are, but that's nothing compared to when they feel the need to protect their young. So naturally, we moved closer to take a better look.

Something seemed off however on a closer observation. There were chains tied around the mother's legs. These couldn't have been wild elephants. Where were they from? Where are the care takers? We moved in even closer.

And there was the answer. 

We walked in to an entire stable of domesticated elephants and the care takers were right there affectionately feeding and washing the herd. 

We gazed at the magnificent sight for a while, until the care takers beckoned to us and invited us to actually visit the stables, which turned into a most memorable, heart-warming experience.

I had never been so close to the graceful giants and this encounter was breath-taking. We got to feed them, feel their muscular and surprisingly dexterous trunks, and gaze into their eyes, which were as deep as the ocean. 

I was highly aware of their sheer size and the power they radiated. 

When a big bull elephant walk towards the shed, I instinctively took a few steps back, even though a thick wall separated us.

But the star of this encounter by far was the very young calf. Only a few months old, it was no bigger than a mastiff, and was as playful as a pup. All he wanted to do was say hello to everyone and it wrap it's tiny trunk around our arms and legs. 

And yeah, he loved watermelon. 

There was a huge scar on his hind legs and was limping. The care-taker told us that he had been attacked by a leopard when he was younger and was badly mutilated, but the feisty fellow had made significant recovery and would be alright eventually.

We spent some more time there in the company of giants, and returned to the park office in time for our safari.

There were a number of groups getting ready for the last excursion of the day. One group in particular was getting a lot of attention there. It was a bunch of photographers (probably) doing a kind of a ritualistic display and photo-session of their cameras and lenses. Their camera models were at the time the holy trinity of Nikon: D500, D750 and D810. They were attached to humongous telephoto lenses which I could not really place. Obviously, I was very intrigued by their premium gear and approached them to inquire about it. But I got a pretty cold and snobbish response from them, so I left the scene. I would be seeing them again soon, and on that occasion I would be the smug one.

Soon after we boarded the open air safari truck and it finally begun.

The Safari

We drove the forest trails for quite a while before we saw anything other than deer, rabbits and monkeys. 

The vegetation was very dry and the air was hot and the ground was radiating heat after a long searing day, the forest seemed very parched and thirsty. And it was as if in response to these thoughts that nature gave us a sign in the form of dancing peacocks. 

The legend of the peacock rain dance is an old belief that right before sudden showers peacocks put on a flamboyant dance, profesizing relief in a way. The fact however is that the dance is for the purpose of attracting females and getting laid, and any correlation between the dance and the rains is vague and coincidental at best and superstitious at worst. But in that moment, I really wanted to believe in the prophesy. 

After driving ahead for a some more time, we stopped next to some shaking foliage. There were a couple of elephants hiding there. After waiting for a while one of them came out in the open. 

This was more significant than anything I had seen in any previous safari, a wild elephant out in the open. Even if I saw nothing more in this outing I would be coming back with some sense of satisfaction. But soon the second came out in the open too and it was of a significantly lighter complexion, it was an albino, also called the white elephant.

White elephants have a very interesting cultural significance in this part of the world. They are rare and considered sacred and precious. In Thailand and Burma, white elephants have been traditionally presented to the king, and the number of such elephants that the king has is the sign of power and prosperity of the kingdom, and benevolence and opulence of the king. Because the animal is sacred, the laws of those lands prohibit it from being put to any work or being given away. Keeping such a big animal incurs big costs without any economic benefits, so ironically, a gift of a white elephant was simultaneously considered a blessing and a curse. In fact, kings used to gift white elephants to their enemies or ill favored nobles in an attempt to bankrupt them. Because of this background the term 'white elephant' has found itself in the english language which means a possession or an endevour which is extremely costly and difficult to maintain, and has no real practical purpose and eventually leads to ruin, like a Harley Davidson. A usage example: The white elephant statues erected all across U.P. by the Maya government, which were built and maintained with thousands of millions of tax payers money, are . . . white elephants.

It is probably worth mentioning that Indira, the Hindu god of rain and thunder, is said to ride a white elephant, the mighty Airavat.

All things considered, the safari was going exceptionally well so far and I also took the white elephant sighting as a good omen for things to come with crossed fingers.

Around this time we came across another tour group, and after a brief discussion between the guides our driver took a huge turn and we bee-lined towards a point where a tiger had been sighted. We sat quietly with anticipation. I was hyper aware of my surroundings and was ready with my camera like a loaded trap. We surveyed the area for several minutes but there was no sign of the big cat. In fact there were flocks of deer roaming the area, which I inferred as absence of any predator nearby.

Moving on with the tour, we came across yet another giant of the forests, the Indian Bison, or more commonly known as Gaur. From a distant it looked like a boulder which rolled across the road. When we came up close it size was almost terrifying. It was like a tonne of pure muscle which could easily topple our truck without even meaning to. Gaurs are the biggest bovine species in the world, and command immense respect for their size, power and speed. After the elephant and the rhino, gaurs are the biggest terrestrial animal in Asia and only a full grown tiger is known occasionally hunt an adult gaur.

What struck me after I got used to the size of the animal were its eyes. They were large and pink with strange alien looking corneas. There was also a divine gentleness to them, which added to the animal's calm demeanor. The bison did not move a muscle, and neither did we, as our truck crossed it.

The coloring on gaurs' legs makes it look like they wear white stockings. That's when I understood why one of the boxer pups back in Wild Haven was named Bison.

We moved around for a some more time, following a few more leads and rumors about tiger spotting but there was nothing significant to see. Now as the twilight set upon us and the day light started to diminish we started our way back to the park office.

Midway back, however, we were provided with one last lead, and our guide decided to pursue it. We came across an elevated curve where another safari truck was parked and everyone inside was dead silent, and gazing intently towards the long grass. We stopped next to them and scanned view in that direction. And there she was, beautifully camouflaged in the dry grass in the golden twilight, an adult tigress.

I had goose bumps. My mind blanked out everything, except for the sight of the tigress though the grass. I fumbled with my camera, adjusting it for low light and shot in her direction on continuously, with my pretty loud D750, getting dirty looks from everyone around.

There was some movement behind the tigress. and suddenly another tiger came into the view. What we were witnessing was a family of adolescent tigers with their mother. 

We had hit a gold mine. The legendary hunter and the continent's top predator presiding on her throne with her heirs around her.

We sat there in her presence for some more time. The tigress sat there majestically in the golden twilight in a perfect frame of grass, staring right into my camera lens as if a queen for posing for a painter.

We started to move after she decided to leave the court. I was starstruck for a long time and my mind was etched with the visuals. Right after we left the location, the group flaunting their camera gear at the park office arrived at the scene. Of course, they were a bit too late and they knew it. Sorry guys, but I got the better pictures that evening.

A Toast