Up to the Hills Again…

Come weekend and its time to unwind old maps, polish my trekking boots, brush through the pages of history; I’m amongst the wilderness. The recent trek to Torna (aka prachandgadh) on August 15th is one of the most memorable of journeys I survived till date. Set in a perfect picturesque ensemble of velvet greenery, smoky mountains, passing clouds and a hill-top fort that inaccessible. Destination set to ‘Tower above the hills again!)

Infamous for its huge built, stretchable green plateau, and dodgy steps glinted with running falls filled with acid soil. A surreal emptiness capture as you moves higher to conquer 4200ft high hilltop, a signature that established Marathadom to the Indian history. Nestled in the rugged Sahaydri ranges with galloping waterfalls, acres of soft-green paddy fields the brown soil wriggles up. Ah! The fort…the fort veiled in thick passing clouds unlocked herself to pump the adrenaline rush…determination solidified. The trail wriggles and gets narrower as the composition changed from rich red granule to oily rock substances. You trek.

Importance of the fort, apart of its rugged cliff head, is to its historic importance as the tribal king from the Sahaydri ‘Shivaji’ having captured it at an young age of 16; thus establishing the Maratha power in Mughal India. Significance of the fort also added with Aurangzeb—the then Mughal Emperor having battled with Maratha ‘lion’ to gain his share of consolidation. Historical events mesmerizes not only in its eventual percept but when a loose trekker scaled the way after 400-odd years wondering ‘how did they manage’.

Defeating random drizzle and losing foothold after it skunk deep-down the heart of red soil; we crawled, gripped, lift, push, slipped yet march through the wild ravines full of thorny bushes, pile of squib, giant cascading ferns and twisted vines. Went up the hill…you look back to appreciate the beauty unscathed and lying prostrated. Sky changing the hues that airbrushes to the picture galore as we march, till we realize we’re lost.

Did I say lost? Oh…yea! Aren’t ‘he’—Shivaji—an expert to guerilla warfare. Torna is the perfect example to prove so. Well, many a thing happen unreasonable that add experience, add pizzazz… (gawd!) I am lost in wilderness yet undefeatable from the goal to ‘Tower the hill again and today’). In fact, to make simple things go difficult you need to be Godson to the Angels of Providence. Stranded at the end of valley and no way to move ahead but to be home like a ‘loser’; inspiration drawn from Shivaji and not to shake hand but defend Destiny. Time to invent and make own route…we head-on.

I really wonder what crept onto us but the desire to find a shortcut by climbing the mountain upright was not a sign of sanity. Desire and determination transformed us to powerful spirited calibers that deign to dig a hole in the heart of the rock to make a ways. Roughening the rough terrain, we took the stream lane with marks of landslide as we glide, hold, stretch, pull, push, slip, and meet the deadlock that inclined horizontally kissing the Earth. Huge surface of glistening rock stand before us with no crevices. At an approximate height of 3500ft, we’re stranded and lost.

Nature is merciless but has its own rules to follow so step on the soft patches, hold the branches, foot angled at 45 degree we finally decided to scale down the way and trace another. Many a times, it was either ‘us’ or the ‘death’ but the battle continued as we make through the hill, down only to be bewildered that a new set of experiences awaiting us soon. I blame inadequate information feed to the Internet by earlier trekkers that conveys no update on the rock patches at the last foothold of the fort before entering bini dwaar—the stone walled arched gate to Qila.

The fort is finally overpowered. I’m at the top of the world yet have no power. After a hectic scale, lost-n-found myself in the wilderness, dodging the deadly crevices, and being under the constant rain for more than 3-hours I was shivering like the leaf by O’ Henry on a wintry spell. But, crawling down was the toughest of journey. We crossed rocks, turned around them, crawled, sat on the rocks, jumped; affection for life was so strong that feet managed to find route and rocks didn’t slipped away.

Torna is a mesmerizing rugged hilltop in a landlocked to other fortresses, a great venue for trekkers unless you’re a lily-livered chicken.