The Gates of Heaven - Part-III

‘The Gates of Heaven’ & My Close Encounters with Peter

(These chronicles are dated May 2011)

Peter constantly radiates humanity in all his actions. He may be foreigner, but the way he is at home with all his members and with the under privileged is a feast to the eyes. In this vicious world divided wide by colour, religion, region, caste, creed etc., Peter blends with anyone and everyone around him as his own family. He rushes to the locations of natural disaster along with his Members with required basic needs for the destitute people, re-erecting their thatched homes, and even tries to revive their farms with plantations etc. I was fortunate to be in the company of the great person for two days.

THE GORGE

After lunch we continued our journey revitalised, crossing the streams repeatedly locating the clearing on either side of the stream until we reached the famous gorge within half hour. This was an adventure unforgettable. I was gaping at the walls on the either side with admiration and awe which was nothing less than the Grand Canyon captured by excellent cinematographers in their wide lenses. I pulled out my camera and found that it was blinking red now and I could dare only one or two snaps further. But all my enjoyment at the location came to a sudden stand-still when Naveen announced that we are climbing the hill to cross the gorge. I cautiously enquired the stretch of the climb for which he answered, “It’s not much, having come this far it’s a simple feat for you”. For a second I did not trust him. I knew he was trying not to terrify me with the truth. I had no choice and started to climb early so that even if I lagged behind I would not trouble the volunteers much. I didn’t want anyone to realise that it is my inability to climb and the club should have not enlisted my category of members. I already have been extended the privilege of not carrying my backpack and now I did not want anyone to be deputed for any further assistance. I would not be able to come out of such guilt. I cannot afford it. As I climbed to around 150 ft, Brijesh was already at lead standing at the cliff with my backpack on him. He instructed us to stop where we were and climbed a little further to identify a safe passage for the rest of the group. In the meanwhile we stood on the small protruding platform at the cliff for photographs. I pulled out my Olympus and asked the person following behind me to click a few. These were the last two and then the red indication was final on the screen. I had to compromise for it was my mistake for not having charged the battery. The view of the gorge from the cliff was breathtaking. Naveen advised me not venture further far a deeper view. I quietly retreated.

Brijesh came back calling us to proceed in his direction and we started to climb the rocky edges slowly. The path was not much than four inches to six inches on the edge of the rock but one slip could make you fall right down to fifteen feet initially and then if you still cannot take control, the fall could continue further down the gorge. It was the most difficult episode in the entire trek. Moving my feet carefully I started to crawl firmly placing my fingers into the gaps above inside the layered rock and nothing else to depend on. Step after step I cautiously moved ahead with the encouragement of Brijesh at the other end encouraging, “you can do it, don’t look down” and finally at the last stretch of about ten feet he stretched his hand “come on! You have done it!” At first I thought I could slip away then I surrendered to him clasping his stretching hand with faith. I landed safely.

Now the path leads down the hill with loose soil and shaky boulders the size of a football. Naveen advanced forward and instructed us to climb down one by one. If any person accidentally falls, he may land on the person before him and a collective fall is imminent. Hence moving in close quarters was avoided. I grabbed the small green plants along the path using them for a firm grip and avoiding any fall. A minor slip was unavoidable but holding the plants avoided helped to control my feet and balance the body and I slowly moved forward. One should avoid the dry branches for they inevitably crack on pressure. It is the green plants with starch in their branches and roots holding firmly deep inside the ground that support you. As I swiftly ran to the edge of the landing due to the downward momentum, I heard a huge sound behind that of a falling boulder. “Move!”“Move!” everyone cried and I just ducked behind a large tree at the end and looked back. It was a slip by the person following behind and I was sure he would not have clutched the green plants as the rest have done. The boulder rolled until down but in a direction that no one could be hurt. Learning a lesson, everyone followed the instructions and from then on they came down without any danger. The most adventurous part of the trek ended successfully.

And then again another pool! What a relief! Very few opted a dip, others instead refreshed and stretched to relax. Brijesh stretched on a poly mat and decided to take a nap with the white cloth over him. Naveen and the other guys caught the small fish with their palms and carefully placed them in a pet bottle. The fish were caressing our bodies in a group and the feeling was ticklish and enjoyable and it was so easy to catch them, but they were released into the pool later. Naveen was saying that a comparatively less effective ‘fish therapy’ offered at Chennai would cost in thousands of bucks but we have it here for free. I agreed with him totally enjoying the minor stint. I dipped along others without changing feeling that it was an unnecessary ritual and opted to carry on with my swimming shorts since the Dead End Pool onwards. The floor of the pool was so slippery that I should have fallen down a dozen times, and at every fall my co-trekkers were calling ‘careful! Careful!” Initially it was alarming but slowly I learnt the safe way to land in a fall. The balanced fall came naturally and every time I fell down I enjoyed the gush of cool water over my body.

Reenergised we continued at the call of Naveen. I asked Naveen the length of the balance trek and at what time we would reach the night camp. He looked at me and replied, “Please do not try to make an assessment. The faster you walk the sooner you would reach.” I now understood his intent. He was not giving any room for anyone to fix a time or length of the destination which may later prove disappointing. The mission is to reach the goal before sunset. “A new lesson”, I laughed within me. I was enjoying.

We had to climb again a little on the right side of the stream to avoid water fall which we could not have any view of it from the bank because of the gigantic rocks in the centre of the stream. A few experienced swimmers dared against the advice of Naveen and returned with splendid experience. We climbed down after the short climb and proceeded on the path available on either side of the stream but venturing over the boulders was shorter, saving time. The boulders at this point were larger than what we had crossed earlier in the path. I had purchased the Quechua brand trekking shoes at the recommended shop at Adayar and they were just great holding the grip at the top of the boulders. While passing a stream between long gaps of the boulders at one point, I slipped again and fell in the steam with a loud thug. Brijesh who was a few yards away asked, “Are you Ok?” I affirmed with a shy smile on my face. “Take the second step only after you are sure your first step is firm”, “One step at a time” he guided me for the hundredth time. He continued, “Don’t be hasty for the second step”. “Sure!” I gestured in agreement.

THE BALLET ON BOULDERS

As we travelled further for about half hour, we heard voices behind us and Naveen said, “It is Peter with the 1st batch”. Soon the two young foreigners came along, whose names I came to know as Eric Courage and Friedhelm. They swiftly crossed us like some kung-fu characters in a Chinese film in a jiffy. One of them was on a sprint in barefoot, shoes in his hand. They disappeared out of the vicinity in seconds. We all stood still watching them in awe wondering if they had any magic feet.

Then came Peter along catching up with us. “How was your Level-2 hike” I asked. ‘Great” he said. He asked me how I was doing and I replied “thoroughly enjoying and no issues” I continued “Brijesh and Naveen made sure I travelled light and organised everything in a fantastic way”. He smiled and we carried along for a few minutes and then I slipped into the stream for the hundredth time again! Peter stopped in his tracks and looked at me concerned. “May be I will slow down a bit and catch up with you later” I pleaded and started to stand upright and fell down again. It was then Peter came forward and offered his hand and holding it I stood up. After I settled and held my ground, he clasped my hand more firm and instructed me “just follow me”. There was hardly any time for preparation from my side, before which I was just pulled and forced to jump over the boulders. We bounced in the air, swaying from boulder to boulder as if tied with ropes like the stunt movies, a ballet I can never forget, like a child remembering my agile and spirited younger days. I just followed the path, step by step without any assessment, passing swiftly past a few youngsters who were in the lead, everything happening in fraction of seconds, without any choice to think, finally reaching a clear and boulder-less pathway. It was like a flawless ballet with impeccable movements and a performance I can never forget. I looked back to estimate the length, not able to, then I was sure I could have saved at least fifteen minutes of my journey time within a few minutes, apart from avoiding further falls in the slippery stream while crossing. Peter released his hold once we reached the clearing. There was no short of breath, neither any sweat, and it was no strain. I beamed with satisfaction and a minute pride. To an extent I could prove fit to Peter, considering my age.

THE FINAL LAP

After the wonderful experience we came to a place where there was another pool and a further path up the hill on the right side. “Are we not there yet?” I asked Naveen. “We are here” he confirmed “you now have to make this final climb” he pointed his finger to the top. I resigned and sat down. “No problem. Take some rest and then continue” he suggested. “Yeah, sure, I have no choice” I said pathetically. In the meanwhile the rest of the group were pouring in and straight away started to climb the hill without even stopping at the pool.

“Where is Peter?” Sinu the girl who travelled along with Peter enquired. “His bag is here, but he is not here” Naveen said, and before he finished Peter emerged swimming from the far end of the pool. The other end was not visible to estimate the extent of the boundary. He walked towards the bank and then looked at me with concern. I was just sitting on a small rock looking at Naveen with some bitterness assured that even the statement of ‘another fifteen minutes until camp’ should be deceptive. “Well” I said to myself and started to take cue from others. It was then Peter signalled me, “No! Prem you come along with me”. He immediately pulled a thermo bedroll from one of the hiker’s backpack and asked me follow him into the stream. He called Sinu and asked her to secure my cap, watch, and the sunglasses in his backpack. I immediately handed over the items and dipped into the pool with Peter clinging to the thermo bedroll to my chest. As I pedalled, Peter pulled me slowly along with him with only one hand stroking in the water and the other pulling my thermo.

After about twenty to thirty meters travel in the water the sight of the camp slowly came to view. It was the rocks and a small curve that hid the vision of the camp from the clearing at the pool behind, and it was the reason we could not see. The members who already made it to the camp were relaxing at the site and Peter just pushed me with a thrust towards the bank, and I glided to the destination. Peter then swam back to repeat the same exercise with Sinu. I carefully stepped on the bank of rocks and stood up. It was an excellent place to camp, unbelievable that such a sight exists at a near proximity to Chennai. It looked like the mini-Kurtalam falls as some call it. Peter christened it as ‘The Picnic Pool’

This locale I confirmed to myself as ‘The Gates of Heaven’ which Peter opened to all those who followed him.