Mimure and on to Lakegala: the climb was too much for us

by Dishana Uragoda

(Continued from last week)

The drive to Mimure was going to be very slow due to the poor road conditions, which we had already experienced whilst coming into Kumbukgolla. The distance was six km between the two villages and we anticipated to travel at a slow speed, giving us approximately 30 minutes to get to our destination and start setting up camp. We reminded ourselves to collect the repaired tyre from the police station in Mimure. Azard, Udara and Charaka got out of the vehicle and gave an advance escort removing large rocks on the way. Chandi was driving, and I was feeling very tired to help out the three boys outside. Nish and I were making plans to either camp out or move into a school or temple. On some earlier occasions, Nish had been with me on camping trips to Yala with my family, and hence knew the art better than the others.

After about 30 minutes of driving, we managed to get to the police station. The road conditions from then onwards were much better. The policemen were relaxing in the calm and cool evening. As soon as the officer in charge saw us, he beckoned to a constable to go down to the vehicle with the repaired wheel, which made us liven up. The repair of the tyre was done free of charge. We thanked him for his help, and inquired as to the location of the campsite. We were given directions to proceed further on until we came to a bridge. By the side of the bridge was a clear area where we could set up camp. It was close to 6 pm and we had to set up the tents before it became dark.

We reached the bridge, and located on a side was a really nice unpopulated area. The Heen Ganga was calm at the time, but the length of the bridge gave an indication of the force of the water during heavy rains. The surface area in proximity to the bridge was all rock, making the river below look more like a pond with flowing water. I went to the edge of the river and selected a location which would function as a toilet. This was a good camping site for us.

The evening was getting darker and cooler, with a chilly blowing coming along the river valley. We had to settle down fast while daylight was still on. We were quick to the task of unloading and setting up the tents. Villagers had now gathered to inquire about us. They were very friendly and we informed them that we were staying the night there and we wished to climb the mountain Lakegala the following day. There was some degree of privacy for us, as the only houses to be seen were across the bridge. The road in front, the river on one side and a hillock behind surrounded our campsite.

Nish and I set about erecting the tents as we had dealt with this work on our previous trips. Each tent could accommodate three. Nish and I had decided in advance that we were going to sleep in the American-made tent, whilst whoever wanted to sleep in the cotton tent was most welcome to do so. Tharaka immediately volunteered as the third member for our tent, for he may have sensed that the two of us knew more about tents than the others. There was good reason behind selecting the American-made tent, as the thick material was waterproof, whereas the other was of thin cotton fit for camping in hot weather. For obvious reasons, this knowledge was selfishly kept to ourselves.

Whilst some of us were making the final sleeping arrangements within the tents, others had started preparing the dinner. Azard, Udara and Chandi lighted the lamps and set about getting the kerosene cooker running in order to have noodles for the night. Whilst they were busy with that, Tharaka, Nish and myself went for a river bath. By this time, the full moon was up, and the time was past 7.15 pm. It was a beautifully lit night with clear skies. After the long day we had gone through, jumping into the rather cold water for a bath made us feel refreshed.

Since we had previous experience of the capacity of our cooker, Azard and Udara too joined us in the knowledge that nothing would get overcooked. After the bath, Azard went back to the cooker and made sure that the noodles would come out edible. And we did have our dinner that night. After dinner we went to the river below and washed the cooking utensils, plates, and so on. By now half of us were feeling rather sleepy.

It was around 9 pm and silence reigned in the village. It was a good time to use the night cover to go to the toilet. I had arranged my “bed” in advance by laying sheets on it. A makeshift pillow was prepared by stuffing a case with clothes. It was time to go to bed. I realized it would not be a peaceful and quiet night. By now, the wind blowing down the ravine had increased in velocity and the playing wind made a constant fluttering sound on the tent walls. With Nish in the tent, I was confident that there was no way that the tent would fly away. With my mind at peace, I turned off for the night. I awakened once or twice in the night due to falling temperatures and the strong blowing, but in general I did manage to have a rather good night’s sleep.

Lakegala

Lakegala is the tallest and the most imposing mountain in the Knuckles range. When viewed from one angle, it has a needle-like spire, while from another side it has a broad top like an ordinary mountain. The people of the area believe that out of the three visits paid by Lord Buddha to Sri Lanka, one was to Lakegala and not to Adam’s Peak.

The following morning we were up in our tent by around 6.30 am. The three occupants of the other tent had a very poor night’s rest. The cotton had given them no protection from the wind, and the strong blowing had just swept through the tent, freezing the three poor occupants. Many a time they had thought the tent would get swept away by the wind, so that Azard and Udara, who had slept in two of its comers, had to hold on to the tent by anchoring their hands into two internal pockets of the tent. It sounded so funny to the three of us who slept in the other tent, but we knew this was no joke. They had no proper sleep, but kept up in good spirit.

Soon we were all out of the tents and decided to go for a wash to the river, which was within a 50-metre walk. The sound and sight of the cool flowing water was exhilarating. It was enjoyable to have a wash in such a gush of clear water, a far cry from the stream we had in the previous village. The riverbed was a large reddish-yellow rock that extended from bank to bank. It created a waterfall almost under the bridge and then gradually sloped down to form a pool of flowing water.

After the morning wash we prepared our breakfast, which had to be rather quick and easily prepared, as we had to climb Lakegala in the morning before the sun could come out and heat the rocky surface. It was rationed to three slices of bread with butter and jam. I thought it was an ideal breakfast which did not involve cooking. It obviously did not go well with the others, who requested a biscuit packet or two to be opened as well.

Just as we were finishing breakfast, we had visitors, who were an elderly Buddhist monk, accompanied by a 10-year old monk and a bunch of little village boys. We were rather surprised, yet welcomed the monks. We were not quite certain of the proper etiquette in entertaining the monks and were also concerned about the impact of this visit on our plans to climb Lakegala. We offered the monks breakfast, although there was little left. The elderly monk very kindly turned the offer down, and inquired after our plans for the day. Quite proudly, we informed the venerable monk that we intended climbing Lakegala.

Then calmly he inquired if we would comply with his request, which was to take the little monk with us to Lakegala. We were dumb struck, for it eroded into our plans. To put it mildly, I informed the venerable monk that it would be hazardous and could not take responsibility for the small priest. We also pointed out that the monk was in slippers which were unfit for mountain climbing, unlike our branded shoes. By then the venerable monk had obviously decided for us and asked us not to bother any more, but take the priest with us, while two guides would also be provided.

We next prepared ourselves for the climb. We dismantled the two tents and quickly packed them into the van. Now, along with the monk, there were seven passengers. Due to constraints in space, the elderly monk did not come with us. We first crossed the bridge and went to the heart of Mimure where the temple was situated, a distance of two km from the campsite. Soon we were driving through the village on a gravel road, which was quite populated on either side. The young monk looked far from peaceful, for he was bossy and haughty.

Soon afterwards, we happened to meet a well-grown man in his mid-thirties, when the monk ordered Chandi to stop the van. He put his head out and ordered the man to come with another to the temple, where we were supposed to leave the vehicle. Our respect towards the little priest had grown by now, and we had a chat with him in order to figure out where all the respect he elicited came from. He said he was a nephew of the elderly monk who was the chief priest in one of the temples in the village.

We reached Mimure temple and waited for a good 15 minutes until the two guides joined us. We left the van in the temple precincts, and began our trek around 10.15 am. The haversack containing food and water was conveniently handed over to one of the guides. Approach to the mountain was through a series of beautiful tiered paddy fields. The monk was leading along with one of the guides and Azard. The rest of us followed with the second guide. Soon after the stretch of paddy was over, we reached thick vegetation with huge trees.

The path had a loose gravel surface on which we had to step carefully. After about an hour of climbing, we were out of the woods and into the steep stretch of mountain. The terrain had changed dramatically to a seemingly smooth surface with long, golden grass. In reality the grass was covering an uneven rocky soil. At this point we regrouped ourselves and walked vigilantly as we heard that the first group had avoided a cobra at that point.

We were passing that stretch of 20-30 metres, when all of a sudden something bit me so very painfully between my buttocks. I was dressed in a pair of denims and the thickness of the trousers prevented me from rubbing the painful site adequately. The pain was unbearable. I then rushed behind a bush and stroked myself vigorously to relieve the pain, and then there was another excruciating bite. The culprits happened to be two jungle ticks that were barely visible to the naked eye.

Once again we started our climb and we found the tall grass very useful, for by holding on to it, we managed to steady ourselves in climbing the steep mountain. The strong sun was beating down on us and there was no shade to take advantage of. We climbed up for another hour or so when Nish said he was going to retire under one of the few solitary trees on the way. Nish was a strong man, but those with heavy appetites and low food intake may be affected more. We spoke to him and he opted to stay there until we came back.

In the meantime, the little monk was running way ahead of us with his guide tagging behind. Such a lead was an insult to us. Thanks to the grass, we managed to crawl our way up. After the three-quarter way mark up the mountain was a 50-metre stretch of bare rock at a steep angle of about 50 to 60 degrees. It was a stretch where climbers had used ropes to cross. Above the rocky stretch was once again the grassy terrain, running to the very top.

With the greatest difficulty, we managed to get to the bare rocky segment, and the time was around 1.30 pm. To prevent further embarrassment to us, we sent instructions to the guide to stay on until we came up, since it would be dangerous for the priest to proceed on his own. We were now on all fours and decided to take a break before we started our final ascent on the bare rock. Udara happened to stop at this point. The priest was a good twenty feet above us and we watched this 10-year old with amazement. He swiftly removed his slippers and gave them to the guide to carry, then twisted the long end tit’ his robe around his neck, and started running up the rock.

It also meant that our resting period was over. So we also began to ascend, but on all fours. After about five metres of climbing, one by one the boys declared their inability to continue. We were losing our balance, our grip oil the grass-covered rock was slipping and we had no energy to continue. The climb was becoming far too risky and there was no way we could have climbed to the top. Less than 10 metres onto the bare rocky segment, we decided to call it off. The priest was rather disappointed with us, and we sent a message from below to say that we were going to descend. We rested for 10 minutes or so and began our trek down. Even on our way down, the little monk took the lead. We concluded that his mountaineering abilities were an inborn trait in the people of the area.

It was well past 5.30 pm when we finally came down to the van. By this time, Azard had negotiated with one of the guides for a large jak fruit. His hunger pangs were too strong to control after having only three slices of bread for breakfast and skipping lunch. Soon afterwards we picked up the jak fruit, tipped the guides and bade them good-bye. We were on our way to set up camp again for the night.

By 6 pm the tents were once again coming up, whilst Azard, assisted by Udara, was preparing the jak fruit for dinner.

The rest of us set up the tents and then went to the river for a bath. The moonlight was fantastic once again, and it was rather interesting to watch, from the river below, a young teenage couple court openly on the bridge. It was not the first time we saw these villagers expressing their emotions quite freely and openly. The water was cold is in the previous night, but we splashed around and played enough to heat ourselves. It was another enjoyable bath, after which we went up to the tents to check on the dinner.

Azard and Udara were still around the cooker waiting for the water to boil. The kind villagers, with whom Azard had negotiated, brought dishes of sambol and coconut scrapings. Finally, dinner was ready about 8.30 pm. There was plenty of jak to consume as it was a large fruit, and the hungry bunch was happy that night as they finally managed to fill themselves up.

The following morning was the time for departure. The occupants of the cotton tent were better prepared for the second night, and had not suffered as much as the previous night. After the morning wash at the river, followed by breakfast, we packed our personal belongings first, and then along with the dismantled tents and other belongings, loaded them into the van. We bade goodbye to the villagers and set off to Colombo. We were back on the 15th evening after a wonderful and memorable trip.

(I would never have written this if not for the encouragement and support of my parents, Chris and Padma Uragoda, and my dear siblings, Neluka, Dianthi and Lalith, to whom I am deeply thankful. I ought to say, this was primarily written for the love of my parents, and this is a dedication to them.)

(Concluded)

(Excerpted from Jungle Journeys in Sri Lanka edited by CG Uragoda)