Kerala Day 9: Exploring Chinnar's Wild Nature and Life; Our Excursion into India's Pre-History?

We knew one thing about Chinnar Wildlife Refuge: it would be a sharp environmental contrast from Munnar, being located in the rain shadow of the Western Ghats. Unfortunately, our epic pre-vacation planning sessions had not turned up too much more information which, for the pathological scripters that we are, left us in the uncharacteristic situation of making things up as we went along.

The first shocker was getting to the Alampetty checkpost on schedule at 8am only to find it deserted. Milk bottles delivered and standing outside the shut office indicated that someone was expected there at some time, but we were out of luck. So a further 10km onto the main Chinnar Centre. We did spot a wild peacock trotting nonchalantly across the road replete with a rich blue flock of feathers. A promising start to our quest for wildlife, we thought!

As we approached the Chinnar Checkpost, we were greeted by a gaggle of Bonnet Macaque monkeys, one of which leapt agilely onto the hood of our car. In the nick of time we slammed our doors shut before they ventured inside and carefully disembarked from the other side. Fortunately, the office here was open and the tribal guides ready to leave on treks. We could immediately sense the drier and warmer air that marks out Chinnar from its surrounding lands.

In all honesty, approaching 9am, we were already rather late for wildlife viewing but undeterred, we made the bold decision to try the 10km "Vasyappara hike" with a tribal guide. In retrospect it was exceedingly gutsy, given that we were starting into the warmth of the mid-morning, and would be walking uphill through parched land.

The Vasyappara hut is a camp site about 5 kms from the base, up high on a ridge that overlooks one of the few water sources in Chinnar. In early morning and late evening it is often a guaranteed theatre seat to spy on the marauding wildlife in the plain below. As it turned out (and contrary to the advice we had got from the Warden's office when calling from Connecticut), we could have booked a tree-top machan to spend the night near the Refuge, or even a night at the Vasayappara Hut itself. This latter option would have been a quite an experience as the environment is extremely wild with no water supply, and 4 guides are needed to help campers manage through a night stay. Ah well, there is always next time ...

The hike was as much an endurance test for Chitra and the kids as it was a beautiful trek. She's still glad she did it, and holds that it was probably good training for our inevitable trekking someday in the African scrub! Our journey was also enlivened by Sivakumar, a local Tamil-speaking tribal guide who matched Thattekad's Sudheesh for enthusiasm and knowledge of the domain.

The start of our trek (yes, it truly deserved this label!) took us through a base village. Akin to our Kochi Backwaters sojourn into the villages, we noticed a nearly pristine condition in which villagers maintained their homes and surroundings, and the odours were accordingly unspoilt. With our trusty camcorder, we can capture many moments that previously would have been left to the mercy of our memories. But that still leaves the smells of our travels which are much harder to depict. The first time this really occurred to us was at Yellowstone Park a couple of years back where the odour of the simmering calder was almost half the experience. India is similar in that sense. It is really only in urban parts that the unpleasant food and garbage smells arise. Our past four days had been all nature and the little villages were distinctly absent of garbage. So instead, the scents were a mix of flowers, warmth, water growths and dung (both cow dung that is used to face the walls and floors of homes, water and bison/elephant dung that dries in the sun). Being herbivores, this does not stink - we felt it was really just the smell of rural life. Indeed, it seemed clear to us that the rural villagers are more respectful of our landscape than the average urban/suburban middle-classer. However, it was amusing to note that even the humblest home was adorned with a satellite dish, creating an interesting blend of the Tulsi plant and Dish TV! Only in India ...!

As expected, citing wildlife in the rising hot sun, was somewhat challenging, but we saw a variety of birds including the Japanese Bush Warbler (White crested bird), a Black Hooded Oriole almost up close and personal, and a Red-Whiskered Bulbul flying overhead, while several Sunbirds bounced around the upper branches of trees. Shobhita also spotted small brown-tailed Lizard scurrying into the cactus plants. Mid-way through our walk, we began to swing upwards along the ridge of some mounds, steadily walking around imposing hills to the camp site. Wild cherry trees dotted the slope, and Sivakumar pointed out the footprints of running deer.

We emerged from the lower woodlands to a rocky outcropping with a fabulous view of the surrounding plains. How different it all looked to the lush tea plantations and thundering waterfalls a mere 25 kms away! We could smell Bison who must have passed by early that morning. Vijay found a Hoopoe bird (Kupu in Tamil), the Malkoha with blue face, back and wings, and a tiny Tailor bird with its sharp, needle-like beak with which it stitches large leaves into a snuggly nest with spider web thread!

We heard a variety of animal and bird calls during our walk, including the repeated wails of the peacock but no wildlife of size. Around 11.20 am we arrived at Vyasapara Camp, a pair of stone huts with an overhanging thatched roof propped up with log columns. The hut is faced with dried dung and mud, and kept spotless. Inside the hut was pretty rustic but with bedding and chairs. We think the overnight camp through the tribal office is well worth doing.

We contented ourselves by pulling chairs onto the mud verandah and soaking in the unspoilt world around us. The hut is built into the side of a hill, in a natural cliff in the rocks, thus providing a wonderful view of the gaping plains below. It may not be the Serengeti Plain, but the flat valley surrounded by menacing mountains (bare at the top but dotted with trees towards their base) was ambrosia to the eyes. The valley is replete with assorted dry forest trees that provide enough shade for wild bison, elephants and deer to hide from the heat.

Sarvesh, in contrast to our somnolent state, dug around avidly in the scrub, finally finding a pair of stag antlers which he then used as a spade to dig up ants and other insects! As the clock ticked past noon, the shadows lengthened a bit in the valley below and we woke up from a light nap. The Sundaram family is known for its jam-packed days, so a siesta was somewhat atypical for us! As we looked up, our patience (if we can so label our nap!) was rewarded with a view of a herd of bison clearly visible to the naked eye.

We then set off towards a known water source (around 1pm) in hopes of seeing more. A welcome breeze had begun to blow and magpie robins flitted around us. One could see several dried streams and waterfalls tracks as we walked to the secondary viewing point. Secure with our own water supply, we could still appreciate the stress placed on the wildlife through the long dry season. For instance, the "water source" that we reached was really just a very shallow pool, rapidly depleting, but a critical oasis for the residents of the plain. We were now perched on a broad rock ledge overlooking the puny pool, and this provided us with another serene 20 minutes of enjoying the still air, and the myriad of animal/bird hoots around us. Several Spotted Owls flew from tree-to-tree below. And we waited. Shobhita's theory was the Owl's calls were frightening away the Bison! But wildlife or not, it was a quite memorable scene, atop of the rock precipice with a bird's eye view of the world below, and one we will carry in our minds for years to come. We did eventually get a sighting of several spotted deer grazing in a meadow a fair bit away, complete with a lordly stag. Distances are deceptive from this perspective, and while the animals looked fairly close, it was apparent that it would take them several hours to make their way to the water hole.

We climbed back down from the cliff edge, and started making our way through pure scrub down the sides of the hill. It was truly a scramble as the kids and we slid and scraped our way down the scree slopes behind Sivakumar, who used a wicked looking machete-style knife to cut through various undergrowth and branches that encroached on our self-created path

The way back was as exciting as the way out, highlighted by finding leopard footprints in the mud (thankfully dried, but only from a day or so ago!) and Sivakumar feeding us brilliant red cactus fruit. It tasted like pomeranate, and Chitra's hands stained a macabre crimson when Sivakumar popped the fruit out of their thick skin into the palm of her hand. Bison and Elephant footprints ran riot in the mud, as did screeching Parakeets and Leaf Birds in the trees. Despite these flurries of life, the atmosphere was still primordial and overwhelming. During one section, Sarvesh, who had been reading Ganesha and Kartikeya comics through the vacation, decided to sit in a shady spot and pray to Lord Ganesha for a boon. The surrounding became very quiet and you could imagine how the legends of yore might appear so plausible in the primitively beautiful surroundings of Chinnar. Our over-vivid imaginations half expected to see an Anthill growing around Sarvesh if he kept up his penance, or for a powerful God to appear before a devotee on the parched plain!

As we tracked back through the tribal village and past a raging river (whose banks we would visit the next day), we finally got an upclose view of the Common Giant squirrel hanging from tree, its enormous tail protruding. This is a cousin of the Malabar Giant squirrel, a resident of Munnar that we were not fortunate enough to encounter.

Oddly enough, the trek had whetted our appetite to imbibe more of this amazing landscape. After a welcome tumbler of coffee at the base-camp canteen, we de-camped to the Alampetty Checkpost, which was finally open and running! We then embarked on a 1km walk to some Stone Age Rock Paintings and Muniyara (Dolmens) which are a prized treasure of this vicinity. Akin to the Vasyappara trek, there was not even a suggestion of hiking trail anywhere in sight so we were once again beholden to our trusty Tribal Guides. These folks are justifiably proud of their heritage, respectful of their environment, and kindly of our ignorance and we felt eminently safe in their care. The Dolmens were sombre and prolific, while the rock paintings were awe-inspiring. Few had survived what German archeologists dated to be about 10,000 years of sun-damage, but the colors stood out, the lines were elegants, and the pictures amazingly modern. There was even one of a man with a net either fishing or processing some kind of food/grain/meat! Again, we mused on the remarkable similarity of ancient life across the globe. We could have been at Stonehenge, or the Chauvet and Lascaux caves in Provence (France) and we would be seeing similar art work, similar painting materials and similar burial traditions. The mind boggles.

On our way back to the car, the guide pointed out a cave built high up on a ledge, only accessible to archeologists via a ladder dangling from the top, in which they had found ceiling paintings. Imagine a New Stone Age Michelangelo!