diffuser911

14th August: I open my eyes on the train and get mesmerized by a beautiful sight. The green hills of Ghatshila were fleeting past the train’s window and captured my fascination. Staying all those years in Jamshedpur and not noticing the beauty seemed like a grave sin now. I remembered hunting information about the town earlier, but had dropped it off. It was time to put it to an end.


Ghatshila hills from the train

Completing the logs soon and uploading the pics now...

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My '08 Suzuki GSX650F
Escapade to the Eastern Ghats
Orissa 1302
My BlackBull - Bullet Electra 5S

Aryan

Topic Approved.

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...in search of that perfect world - My Travel Blog :)

ken cool

I like the title. Yes, it has been a very long time since I have traversed these parts... Ghatshila, such a familiar bell it rings... Kalaikunda, Saranda, Simlipal...

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Xbhp's Indo-French Kashmir-Ladakh Tour

chicane1879

Bring it on.I hope you have captured some shots of those elephants and even some Maoists too!!

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Praful

Good going and now stop teasing us and post the rest...

When this thread first appeared on the tracker I thought this was your thread.....How long are you going to sit on 'that' ride

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diffuser911

I dared not!! I did get a pic of some elephant dump though. Too gross to post.

On it right away sir!

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My '08 Suzuki GSX650F
Escapade to the Eastern Ghats
Orissa 1302
My BlackBull - Bullet Electra 5S

bibekjyoti.de

bring it on.. really interested to know about the maosists ..actually I have some plan to ride through this place ...so a little bit scared about them

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chicane1879

Man, i still have to post the other ride which i did 8 months back!!

You will be infracted if you do so!!

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diffuser911

15th August: Mom woke me up early like I asked her to. My alibi was that I was going to roam in the city with a friend all morning. I had asked my cousin the evening before to accompany me, but he was not too sure about his plans. I warned him to keep his mouth shut or get his ass kicked, and sincerely hoped he followed my instructions. I hit the road a little after six and got to the NH-33 in no time. Once I crossed the potholed and truck stoppage section of the NH near the city, I made a discovery: my dad’s rattling Victor could touch the eighties. All bikes do, but this one took its own sweet time, being more of a bullock cart with luggage box and the wares. I occasionally craned my neck to the left for too long, enjoying the view. I hit a pothole or two in the act, but the poor bike took the damage. I had jotted down the places worth visiting, plus the turns I need to take off the NH.


A city waking up


Fantastic early morning view


Cloud-capped hills on my left


Paddy fields along the NH


The good road

Once in Ghatshila, I asked around for the village Burudih. The diversion off the NH took me through roads with stones jutting out. Soon enough, I was devoid of human habitat and riding into the deserted roads filled with mud, sand and running among trees and farms. An occasional villager passed by at times, giving me you-are-crazy looks. After some struggle with sandy roads, I hit muddy ones and then, watery ones. Fighting my way and following the roads taken by local cycle champs, I made it to the village. One good thing about traveling in your state is that you can get the directions without any ambiguity, and just by affixing a chacha or bhaiya, form an unsaid bond. The Burudih dam’s wall came into view after dipping my feet in quite a few muddy puddles. I never would have guessed it: there was a cafeteria with a small park for children on this side. Wonder how many people come to this place in a year! I ascended the road to the top of the dam and got my first view of the artificial lake. The scenery was postcard-picture perfect. The only people around were villagers taking gondolas on cycles and fishermen in the lake below. I whipped out the cell and started clicking away. I stomached cool water from a hand-pump, then rode to the other end of the dam and climbed upon the wall. Pacing up and down the high edge, I thought what the observers, if any, might have been worrying about my mental fitness. I got back on my Victor and parked it carefully, then went down a stair leading to the water. I didn’t want to attract much attention, so took a few snaps at the bottom and left. The road that had turned towards the dam carried on straight ahead, although I didn’t know where it leads to. Guess who’s up for an adventure??


Going off road


The greens on way


First view of the dam


The road leading there


The captivating first look


Surrounded by hills


Submerged stumps


From the dam's wall


Strange rock formation in the dry area


The mirror


Green all around


Going to the water


My favorite pic

The first sign of presence of wild animals was a huge dump made by a huger animal that lay on the middle of the road. And it didn’t need a scientific observation to tell which one. From that point on, I became careful with my eyes glued to the road sides, as the area is known for wild elephants going on a rampage. Other frequents were tigers, barking dears and foxes. The road had a fair share of bumps and cuts. It twisted and turned before it started moving up a gentle ascent alongside a hill. I came upon a nalla and got down to take a picture, but went back on the road ASAP. I came upon some village folk riding on cycles and heaved a sigh of relief. After some riding, I reached a village covered in green of the farms around. It was fascinating to see the jugads (indigenous methods) applied by the folks for diverting water into and out of the fields. I took some pics, and then propelled my ride towards the village interior. I was surprised to see four army men sitting on a khaat (cot). They stopped me and asked where I came from and what I was doing here. Using the extremely useful ploy that I was a student, I asked them the way to Dhaaragiri, my next stop. Being told to follow the road ahead, I rode slowly through the village, sensing the uncomfortable stares from people around me. After a right at a fork, I and my machine were pitted against a merciless and stony track, hardly four feet wide. I found it hard to steep on the slippery stones and cut down my pace to a mere crawl. The section got over soon and I was in a clearing, which again went into a narrow path. I could see the hill clearly which was pointed out the army jawans as the backdrop of the falls. The road ahead was getting difficult, plus there were occasional water crossings formed by the channels of the waterfall. All of a sudden, I came upon a flimsy bridge made of thin tree stems across a stream that had branched off from the falls. I got of the bike and analyzed the area beyond and followed a trail that seemed to be an alternate way to avoid the bridge. I reached a dead-end when the trail ended into a field. I could see workers sweating it off on a far off rice field. Heading back to by bike, I pulled it back from the makeshift bridge and locked it in a small clearing along the track. Now its time to take a hike!


Jungle stream


Irrigation water...see the number of stones used


Loved this


The stony path


End of road...for the bike

Once on the trek, I realized that even if there had been a way, it would have taken a motocross bike to carry on the path. Stepping on rocks to avoid the water from seeping in shoes, I came upon a meandering stream and guessed the way I head towards. Just imagine: all you can hear is the noise of water crashing agains the rocks, not one person or animal in vicinity (at least not visible). After crossing the stream, I located a footmark on the wet mud, made from a sports shoe. Hoping to find others near the waterfall, I braved ahead. Strangely, I saw no one who might have worn the shoes, nor any footmarks returning. The wet path through the jungle was scary, to say the least. Fueled by adrenaline, I was almost jogging to get to the waterfall soon. The path ended beside the stream and it was rock-hopping time again. Jumping across due to the lack of a suitable track, I judged that I was nearing the waterfall from the sound of the water hitting the rocks. When I finally got the first view of the Dhaaragiri, it was better than what I had read on the net. The small, but powerful fall was around 15-20 feet in height and white water was gushing down the rocks. Taking a jump to near the base, my casual shoes gave away and I slipped on a rock, breaking the fall using the hand that held the cell. No damage done, but confidence gone for trekking ahead. Knowing that it was deep enough into the jungle, I took a couple of pics with shaky hands and decided not to push my luck too far. The return was speedy and I tread carefully. The shoes came in useless for the trek, since water had seeped in and made my feet soggy.


All shaken up in the jungle


Upstream


Dharagiri falls


Area around the fall


Had to cross this on foot

I rode back towards the army check post, now more confident coming back to population. Once missing a turn and then correcting myself, I neared the check-post, where I was stopped by the army men, again. Surprised when they asked me to get off the bike, I sensed that it was time for questions. This time, they grilled me thoroughly about my hometown and college. After they finished, they said that it was not safe to ride alone into where I had went to. I was utterly respectful and mentioned that I had guessed so when I saw them posted here. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of jawans patrolling the village. They said that the area was heavily infested with Maoists and it would be better if I came with a few other guys the next time. Promising them that I won’t return anytime soon, I wished them a goodbye and sped off down the road, honking the horn to make way among the cattle. Stopping just once near Burudih dam to gulp some water, I was pretty much keeping my butt on the bike. Reason: mom had called regarding when I would be home for breakfast and I had told her that I would be back in a hourJ. Getting back to the NH, I made another startling discovery: my dad’s ‘moped’ could go upto 90 kmph!! With no intention to stop on the way, I crossed a huge gate on the left of the NH saying Swarnrekha barrage and stopped to think. Calculating my chances of being deprived of breakfast as pretty low, I turned around and took the diversion. The road ahead closed as the railway crossing’s gate came down. I asked the crossing attendant which way to the barrage, he pointed straight ahead, plus showed me a shortcut to bypass the gatesJ. A few minutes drive got me the roaring muddy-yellow waters of the Swarnrekha. And that was where there was a dearth of rains in the region! The white capped hills beyond the barrage were too inviting, but that would have to be some other time. Coming back to the rail crossing, I took the shortcut again and reached the NH. Now it was time to fly like a rocket; stopping once to photograph my poor bike, I flew home non-stop.


Riding along the hillside


The road downhill

***CENSORED***
Elephant's dump


The last view of the dam


Back on the scenic highway


The thundering Swarnarekha


White-capped hills beyond


The faithful Victor and the flimsy lid

Half an hour later, I am at home, reading the headlines: Maoists and police engaged in a gun-battle in Patamda, connected to the place where I went.

Two hours later, my dad is riding and I’m pillion. He just says, “You went to Ghatshila na? The odometer shows it, but I won’t tell mom. But do take care when you are on these trips.” Thank God! I just thought: Ghatshila is 90 km round trip, the odo reads 125 km from start; hope he doesn’t know I went rampant into the wilds, 15 km off the road where I wasn’t supposed to be.

__________________
My '08 Suzuki GSX650F
Escapade to the Eastern Ghats
Orissa 1302
My BlackBull - Bullet Electra 5S

diffuser911

All pics up now...Rest on Picasa Web Albums - diff911 - Freedom Ride ...

__________________
My '08 Suzuki GSX650F
Escapade to the Eastern Ghats
Orissa 1302
My BlackBull - Bullet Electra 5S