The Shoreline'14 April, 2014 | Page 52

BallalaRayana Durga | October 2012 I was a member of the Organizing committee for this trek, and it was special because I experienced my first snake bite. We were trekking along a narrow trail and someone came across a green slender snake, maybe 3 feet long, in the middle of the path. While people crowded around it and some of the first timers let out startled gasps, I put down my bag, and decided to give a small lesson on handling snakes. I carefully drew the snake’s attention to an object in front, and while it was absorbed in studying the movement, I picked its tail up and in a second grabbed its head. Two things I would like to state here. Firstly, PLEASE don’t try this anywhere. It really isn’t as easy as I’ve made it sound. Secondly, the method is different for poisonous snakes. The bunch of wonder struck 11th grade kids stared at me in disbelief, as I explained to them how to deal with snake encounters. Slowly, some of the more adventurous ones touched the reptile. One of the enthusiastic boys pulled the tail, which was in my left hand, and this caused me to lose grip on the snake’s head, which was in my right hand. The snake promptly took this opportunity to turn around, and before I could react, it buried its fangs in my right palm. There was much consternation as people freaked out. Some resorted to shouting, like that would scare a deaf snake away. Some tried pulling it; others started checking my eyes and pulse to see if I was dying. Amidst all the drama, some of the more experienced campaigners held the snake, while I pushed its head forward with my left hand, to release its grasp on my hand. Unlike a conventional snake bite, this one lasted for almost 20 seconds. After I finally managed to pull it out and release it at a safe distance, I immediately ran to a nearby stream and washed the bite. I was sure it was only a mildly poisonous snake, but still sucked out any residual poison from the wound. It didn’t unduly pain, and there was just a slight tingling in the arm for an hour or so. That day taught me a few valuable lessons though, about not letting anyone else touch a snake when I was handling it. Kumaraparvata | March 2013 We were joined by a couple of highly enthusiastic cyclists from college, who had cycled from Mangalore to Kukke. After 7kms of intensive trekking uphill through ravines that radiated heat like a furnace, we reached ‘Bhattara Mane’, a farm nestled in the heart of the forest. We relished the sambar rice served as lunch, for a seemingly exuberant price of Rs. 80. After a presumably sleepless night for the group, we woke up to the pleasant morning only a jungle can offer. We wasted no time in starting the second leg of our journey, and around 3 hours of walking brought us to the top. The panoramic view from the top, although not the best of its kind, served as a worthwhile destination after the arduous climb. What marred the serene landscape though, was the immense amount of garbage that other trekking groups had left behind. Plastic wrappers, paper plates and water bottles were strewn around in copious quantities. Far from being a peaceful and beautiful representation of nature, the place resembled a dump yard in a metro city. Being one of the most frequented trekking spots for groups from college, it is important that we appreciate the beauty of nature, and accord it the respect it deserves. BallalaRayana Durga | October 2013 Sidharth is a final year student of Metallurgy and Materials Engineering. He is an active trekker and adventure sports enthusiast. Ironically, he is also prolific at indoor board games. 50 The Shoreline The bus from Mangalore to Kottigehara, arrived at 8:20 pm, and before we knew it, it was full. There were probably another 100 people waiting to board, and we were at the end of that ignominious queue. Slowly and painfully, we made our way into the bus, with barely any place to stand; and this is how one of the best journeys of my life began. It was hot, and it was sultry, and it was overcrowded, and in no time tempers flared. There were people squabbling all around us, in dialects we failed to understand. There were drunk aunties, who entertained us with their rambles. After much consternation and cursing, we were dropped off at 1:30 am at Kottigehara. At 4:00 am, the bus to the starting point of our trek arrived. Many acknowledged that they had had enough of the adventure already. Much of the morning passed uneventfully, but by early afternoon, we were on our way. The weather was delightful, as clouds descended into the valley, enveloping us in a thick layer of fog. Not long into the trek though, we faced our first hurdle. We found elephant dung, not more than half an hour old. This was a herd with a calf, and running into it would be catastrophic. The mood of the group changed remarkably, and suddenly everyone chose to trek in silence. The only sound was the tireless din of the wood crickets, as they voiced their alarm at our passing. Progress was necessarily slow, and every 400 metres or so, we burst firecrackers which made enough noise to alert any lingering lumbering giant of our presence. Each