What do you do? If you are a certain Shivaji, contemplating building a nice little capital from where you can thumb your nose at those insufferable Moguls, you go ahead and build another fort and name it Rajgad – the king of forts.
Cunningly disguised atop the Sahyadri ranges Rajgad is every trekker's dream come true. Well almost. Dream come true is not exactly how my legs would describe what I put them through this long weekend.
But let's begin at the beginning. Take two officers from the Indian Army, a scuba diving instructor, an artist who has climbed the Everest in rubber chappals, a guy who does adventure sports for a living and one 'out of shape never moved his arse from his chair' copy writer. Throw them inside a Toyota Qualis and you'll get the motley crew that decided to trek to Rajgad this weekend.
But let's begin at the beginning. Take two officers from the Indian Army, a scuba diving instructor, an artist who has climbed the Everest in rubber chappals, a guy who does adventure sports for a living and one 'out of shape never moved his arse from his chair' copy writer. Throw them inside a Toyota Qualis and you'll get the motley crew that decided to trek to Rajgad this weekend.The journey itself was incredible. An early morning drive through what must surely be the best maintained expressway in India ( Mumbai- Pune expressway). Lush green hills on either side. Warm sunlight filtering through the trees. The hypnotic hymn of the tires on the road. Nature sure looks enchanting when you are ensconced in 4X4.We reached the base village Pali, with its token library, three buffaloes, two and a half hand pumps and one ancient chacha, about four hours later. Who, by the way doubles up as the gatekeeper, watchman, parking attendant and caterer. Although the last mentioned service of his is strictly for those with an iron stomach, judging by the way he was fondling certain parts of his anatomy. We hefted our rugsacs, which included clothes, sleeping bags, kerosene stoves, potatoes and yes. I bet Prateek (the guy who arranged the trip. more about him later) had a kitchen sink stuffed down there somewhere.
I would love to describe the 3 hour trek up hill in intricate detail. Fill page after page with picturesque details of hills covered with green grass, punctuated with wild violet flowers. The almost burning sensation of breathing in pure fresh air.But to be very honest all that was lost upon me. From about ten minutes after I started the trek till I reached base camp about three hours later all that mattered to me was reaching there in one piece and if possible donate both my legs to some stray dog on the way.I reached base camp held together, I am sure, by the clothes I was wearing. But once there it was heaven. The army officers (show offs) had already reached, cooked dal chaval and sabji by the time I had dumped my rugsac.
That was the most satisfying meal of my short life. Having a good hot meal perched on top of an ancient cannon with three fourths of Maharashtra spread out in front of you. Meal over, tents pitched, we went for a more leisurely stroll exploring the fort.Unlike most forts the ones in Maharashtra are not cut from the mountain. They make the bricks out of the mountain and then fashion the fort out of them. Making it almost invisible to the naked eye from the plains. Quiet handy if you half the Mogul army on your tail.
Padmavati Machi, one of the main attractions of the fort also houses the temple where trekkers can stay overnight for a small sum. You also have a couple of enterprising villagers who are willing to serve you everything from overpriced buttermilk to fosters beer. All for a price of course. By about six in the evening we settled down to cook dinner and spent the night under a canopy of stars drinking hot cups of tea and listening to adventure stories, of which my fellow trekkers had an innumerable stock.We woke up in the morning to a drizzle and thick blanket of fog that prevented us from seeing more than a few feet in front of us. But today was the day we were supposed to climb up to the Bale killa and we could not let a few dollops of fog stop us. Forget the fact that you are climbing up a sheer rock face with nothing but a rusty metal pipe to guide you. Forget the fact that one tiny slip and you will be admiring the sahyadri rock face in more detail than you'd like to. But climb we did and it was worth every single bit of trouble we took. There were moments when I was so covered with fog that it seemed like I was the only person alive in the universe. Surrounded by mist, a stiff breeze working its way through my clothes I felt at peace and far far away from all the madness that we surround ourselves with in life.
But like all good things my little sojourn with nature came to an end sooner than I wanted to. We were rolling up tents, trekking back down and resting our aching legs inside the Qualis before you could say Shivaji Maharaj Ki Jai. Maybe next time I will stay longer and trek through the ridges to Torna. Maybe next time
-Written by Vinod Sudheer
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