Insights from trekking the hills of Coorg with GoMowgli

This past Sunday was a "moonday" (in the Ashtanga tradition, we do not practice on either the full or new moon), so everyone who was practicing with Sharath had 2 days off in a row.  So, I decided to venture out for another trip with the folks over at GoMowgli, this time for a 2-day trip to the neighboring district of Coorg.  The main focus of this trip was a trek through the hills to climb up the tallest peak in the district, Tadiandamol, at an elevation of 1,748 meters (about 5,700 feet).  As I've mentioned in previous posts, having access to nature is really important to me and I have been known to spend 5, 6 or 7 hours at a time wandering around in the woods (or desert when I am back in Arizona).  After the last trip when I got my first view of the beautiful Coorg countryside, I was eager to go back and see it some more.  So, when GoMowgli posted that they would be leading a 6 hour trek in Coorg, I was totally game.  Ironically, despite a beautiful start to the trip, this trek actually turned out to not being my favorite trip with the GoMowgli people.

What I loved: winding through the Coorg hills on the bus, still enchanted by the site of the lush forests and fields of coffee plants; sitting in the back of a "no frills" Jeep and getting jostled around as we climbed over narrow, rough and rocky roads, watching the landscape pass by from the open back; walking the couple of kilometers up to the lodge where we were staying the night, all of us completely mesmerized by the wonder and beauty of the rising full moon (we all kept stopping to just stare at the moon, it was so beautiful) and enchanted by the sights and sounds of the forest--have you ever stood in the middle of a circuit of bats jetting back and forth between their nest and a food source?  I have.  And let me tell you, if you are quiet enough, you can hear the subtle flap of their wings, and between that sound and their quick, almost invisible, movement, it was like standing in the middle of swarm of ghosts.  The place we stayed at (Honey Valley Homestay) was far into the hills of Coorg, away from all the sounds and busy-ness of the city,

view from the porch of our rooms

with several friendly dogs that live there but have the freedom to come and go as they please and often accompany people on the hikes into the hills.

This sweet girl ended up being our companion during our hike.  We decided to give her the name of "Short Round," as she is tiny but clever, tough and full of spunk and energy, just like her namesake from "Indian Jones" 

The homestay also had minimal outside lights, a small library, good food and a fantastic view of the moon rising over the hills.  We, again, had a nice small group on this trip and, again, we all ended up feeling like close friends by the time the trip was finished.  So, with all these wonderful things, what happened that made this trip less favorable for me than the others.  Well, honestly, mostly poor planning on my part, as well as me neglecting the reason hiking is so important to me.  The other thing?  It is the beginning of summer over here, and a vast majority of the hike was out in the sun, through what is now, a lot of dry grass and brush.  Also, this hike was very long, it felt like it was probably close to 13 kilometers, though the distance is an approximation because I did not know the trail that we were on.

All of which leads me to my poor preparation.  Normally when I go out hiking in Boston, I bring one, maybe two bottles of water and rarely drink both of them, sometimes not even one, even during the summer time and even during the times that I am out for 5-7 hours at a time.  I also don't usually eat much when I am out hiking, because my body is on the move and eating actually feels more tiring.  I also never wear a hat and often put on very little sunscreen.  Yes, I know--bad lady.  So, I did the same thing here: I only brought along one 8 ounce water bottle for the hike and some dried fruits.  No hat, minimal water and I forgot to even bring my sunscreen--and yes, GoMowgli did tell us to bring a hat, sunscreen and plenty of water and food.  Well, what do you think happened with this recipe?  If you guessed sunburn, you would be correct.  Albeit a very amusing one, as I was wearing capri yoga pants and a short-sleeved shirt--which actually spared the rest of my body from getting fried, that and being able to use someone else's sunscreen.  I was also thoroughly exhausted by the end of the hike.  I drank very little water, even though it was very hot, but thankfully, the guides from GoMowgli brought some oranges, so that gave me both some liquid and energy.  I think it's actually quite amazing that I did not get heat stroke or something, given how little I took care of myself during this hike.  Perhaps my body remembers what it was like to live and run in the desert of Arizona?  (side note: yay Merrel for making awesome barefoot trail shoes.  I did not feel a single sharp edge of a rock and the light-weight shoes are a blessing on hikes, as is being able to be "barefoot" during hot temperatures, not mention being able to be "barefoot" makes balance so much easier).

Either way, this hike also did something else, other than just leaving me feeling quite exhausted and weary of the sun--it revealed exactly how much the Ashtanga practice is doing for my body.  Any time I start lamenting about how much I miss really using my legs, and worry about them losing strength, remind me of this time, when, after a month and a half of only doing the Ashtanga practice (and not even my full Intermediate practice, which has a lot of leg-strengthening postures), and much less walking around and climbing up and down all the stairs that I used to encounter every day just from living in Boston, my legs carried me over around 13 kilometers of hilly and rocky terrain in what was probably around 90 degree heat--with the crux of the hike (the tallest peak) being at the very end of the hike.  Remind me also of how my feet carried me over these hills, after the practice helped to heal and strengthen them after years of stress from running.  My breathing was also strong and steady and my body automatically kept an even and steady pace--there really was not much thinking on my part, my brain was too tired from the heat for that, lol (although, to be fair, some of that also comes from my background in distance running).  My Sanskrit language teacher, Laksmish, likes to tell us about an analogy regarding the keys on a harmonium.  He refers to the black keys as being the unpleasant, painful or "bad" times and the white keys as being the pleasant, joyful or "good" times, and he notes that, while playing the harmonium, you cannot have a melody, or song, using only the black keys or only the white keys, you have to use both.  The analogy, thus, being that in life you cannot have only pleasant times, as we all say that we wish we could, because it would not be a complete experience, or song, you have to have unpleasant experiences as well.

So, even though this was not my favorite trip with GoMowgli and I finished that day feeling weary and hot and mildly annoyed with the experience, the days since have given me more time to see how the seemingly "unpleasant" experiences in this trip really only added knowledge to the experience from a different angle, highlighting all of the things that serve me so well in my life right and has given me a more clear of exactly how they support me.  The Ashtanga practice is my base, giving my body and mind so much strength, focus and balance.  It also shed some clarity on exactly what it is about India that draws me to this country.  Yes, of course, the landscape here is beautiful and unique, but, for me, it is nature within the context of this culture that really distinguishes it from other natural places.  Usually, after my last two trips with GoMowgli, I return to the Gokulam neighborhood (where I am staying) feeling even more connected to this country and its people.  This time, I did not.  And that has nothing to do with how this trip was run, it simply has to do with what connects me to this place, as I think all of us that travel here have our own things that draw us to this country.  For me, it is the culture, the people, the history and religion and spirituality, and those things in combination with the natural surroundings that pull me here.  This trip has shown me that, because there was much less interaction with the people and exploration of culture, simply because that was not the focus of this trip, the hike itself was the primary focus.

As for how hiking fits into my life--the hiking is best as a solo experience for me.  Yes, I know--everyone says, "don't go hiking by yourself."  But the hiking is like my "outdoor yoga"--it is not just a physical exercise, it is something that I do to disconnect from the outside, social world for a while and reconnect with the peace, beauty and simplicity that is so easily accessible out in nature.  As Sharath noted during one of the conferences here, there is a reason that all of the ancient yogis went to the Himalayas and the forests--going deep into nature and away from humans, meditation comes naturally, so half of the work of their meditation was already done for them ;-)  And for me, it is very hard for me to find that when I am hiking with people.  I usually walk much slower during my solo hikes, just naturally moving much slower and taking time to stop and soak in the experience.  But during this last hike, I found myself moving faster than I would on my own just to try and get further away from the group, away from people.  It had nothing to do with the specific people that I was with, they were all kind and friendly people, but what I was really craving was to be out in nature by myself.  After I have been able to spend several hours out in nature, by myself, I find it easier and less draining to be around people.  Ironically, hiking does not usually make my Ashtanga practice feel worse by giving me tight muscles, if anything it actually makes it feel stronger and more stable, especially with regards to my back bending practice.  I know I said that the Ashtanga practice does keep my legs strong, even though it is sometimes hard to tell, but there is something about hiking out in nature and getting to scramble and climb over the rocks of a terrain that connects me to my legs in a way that just going for long walks in the city or walking up and down stairs cannot even come close to achieving.  Every time I come back to my practice the day after a hike, my legs feel more awake and it feels like I can really feel and access them when I am standing up from and dropping down into my back bends.  And, because I can really feel the strength and stability coming from my legs, the back bending is easier because it feels like I can more easily relax the upper body because it feels like I have more support coming from my legs.  So in the days following a hike, my back bends feel easier and deeper than they do when I have gone for a long time without going out for a hike.

Of course, I don't know the terrain here, so the only way I can really go out hiking here is to go with a group.  All of that being said, the terrain in the hills of Coorg is breath-taking, even in the dry summertime (I can only imagine how beautiful it must look at the end of the rainy season, with the hills much more green and all of the streams and waterfalls flowing with water).  And, as always, the GoMowgli guides not only knew the area, but they also truly cared for it, picking up trash along the way and eventually carrying out 3 full bags of other people's trash

one of our guides (a native of the Coorg area) picking up trash at one of the streams that we stopped at

So, many thanks, again, to the people at GoMowgli for organizing trips like this for us and for sharing your country and culture with us :-)

And, without further ado, pictures :-)

some of the landscape at the beginning of the hike

one of our guides leading the way and searching out his landmarks

You see that dark grey and white patch in the middle of the picture, just above the trees?  During the rainy season, I am told that it is actually a beautiful waterfall

That peak is Tadiandamol--still a long ways off at this point, I'd say that we were maybe about halfway

"Kaa" (his GoMowgli nickname) perfectly at home in his home region

finally starting on the path to ascend the peak

view of the hills that we trekked over to get to the peak

going through a little walk in the jungle--with "natural stair cases"

Finally, at the top of Tadiandamol

I have no idea what was so funny--possibly thinking about how crazy my hair must look at this point ;-)

Short Round (aka "Shortie") joining me for a photo op

Heading back down the mountain--where I finally got some alone exploring time, since I knew the path this time

And, one last shot of our faithful doggy side-kick, because she really made this hike special--waiting for the people in the back of our group to catch up, sometimes scouting ahead, being adorable with her need to be up on the highest surface whenever we stopped and for just being a great companion during a long and strenuous hike--did I mention that she also ran after the Jeep when we got to the end?  We tried to get her to go in the Jeep, but she would not, so she followed after us all the way to the point where the road split back to the lodge.  Thank you for coming and staying with us Shortie ;-)

Returning to India

Well, after months of planning, waiting and preparing, I am finally here--Mysore, India.  My brain doesn't even really seem to comprehend it yet, possibly due to sleep deprivation (so please excuse any mis-spellings or grammatical errors, lol).  I kind of feel like a zombie right now.  Is anyone curious to see what Tara looks like after 30+ hours of travel on about 7 hours of interrupted sleep?  Yes?  I thought you might, let me show you ;-)

Zombie Tara

I snapped this lovely self-portrait shortly after I arrived at the place where I am temporarily staying until I can move into my own place on February 6.  After so many hours of travel, I felt so far beyond the point of exhaustion that I wanted a picture of what that looked like.  Air travel does such weird things to the body--my digestion feels wimpy and my eyes and my face tend to feel puffy.  And my mind cannot really seem to focus on anything.  I brought books thinking I would read during all those hours on the planes, but I never did, my eyes felt too tired and the brain sluggish or panicky, so I watched movies instead and occasionally got a couple of hours of sleep here and there.  It's interesting, the flight from the United States to my connection in Europe (Frankfurt) was much harder to sit with than the flight from Europe to India, even though it was longer.  I noticed the same thing during my first trip to India in 2012: my legs muscles feel achy and restless and the mind tends to flutter in and out of tiny states of panic over being in an seated and closed in space for so many hours.  But the other flight?  I am much more relaxed and the long hours pass by easier.  I think it might be because during that first half the mind and body are still in their normal time zone--but by the time I get off the plane in Europe, my mind and body are so confused with the difference in time that I really feel like I lose a sense of where I'm at, so it's a little easier for everything to relax.  But, for some reason, sleep still does not happen for too long, and sleep deprivation kicks in and I end up looking like that picture above, lol.

At some point though, during that second flight, I remember looking at the flight map and saw our little digital airplane halfway across the Arabian Sea (the sea on the west side of India) and the reality of what I am doing started to sink in--I was actually doing this: I left my job (a good job, where I was treated well, valued and good at what I did), packed away all the belongings in my room for a sublettor to come in and was going to be living in India for 2 months, without any plans (or even a hint of one) of what I would be doing afterwards.  The only thing I knew, and was focused on, was: go to Mysore to study with Sharath Jois for 2 months, but more on that later ;-)  Anyways, reality started setting in and I could feel myself starting to really get nervous, scared even, about whether or not I could actually live in another country for 2 months, even though I had already been to the country barely more than a year before.  But as soon as I got off the plane and walked into the airport, I was greeted by that wonderfully familiar smell of Indian spices in the heaviness of the damp India air and fear started to melt away.  It brought back all those wonderful memories of my first trip and reminded me of everything that I love about this country, and I knew I would be ok.  

...and then I went outside to find my driver among the dozens of drivers holding signs of the people they were picking up, and guess who's sign was missing.  Yep, mine.  I must have walked up and down the row of drivers for at least 20 minutes before finally accepting that my driver was not there, and that I was in a country where I did not speak the language and I did not have a cell phone, at 2-something in the morning, by myself.  Welcome back, fear.  What was I going to do?  Keep breathing for one, lol, and then nervously ask someone for help.  Fortunately I did remember to write down the number of the man that I booked the taxi through and an airport representative was kind enough to let me use his cell phone.  I reached him and he said that the driver was there and said that he would call the driver and tell him to go closer to the front so I could see him.  Relieved, I went back to the waiting in front of all the drivers.  I waited for what must have been another 20 minutes.  I walked the row again--maybe he was in the back and I could not see him?  Nope, he was not there.  One of the airport security guards approached me and said, "you have been waiting a long time!"  He directed me to a payphone that I could use and I, again called the man I booked the car with, who, again, said that the driver should be there.  After another 20 or so minutes, I called him again from another person's cell phone.  This time, he informed me that it turns out that the driver was indeed not there.  It turns out that he had gotten into a small fender-bender and was still sorting out details with the police, but had not informed anyone about what happened.  So, a new driver was on the way.  He apologized profusely and suggested that I wait by the Subway (yes, there are Subway restaurants in India, lol), get some coffee and "take rest, the driver is coming, everything will be fine."  I did not get coffee, but I felt much better and more relaxed knowing exactly what was happening and that it was being resolved.  It gave me time to sit and just take in my new environment, and smile a bit at all of the advertising and decorations here that make me smile, such as these little gems:

While "America runs on Dunkin," "India runs on Chai!"

Have no fear falling recyclables, your buddies await inside, ready to catch you! 

It also gave me time to look around and remember that I was not actually alone, there were other people there, foreigners and Indians as well--some there laughing and having food and chai with friends, some waiting for their drivers and drivers waiting for their customers, just like any other airport in the world.  It also reminded me of something from one of the movies that I watched on the plane ride over, After Earth.  The acting wasn't overly impressive and the story was predictable at times, but there were many parts that stayed with me, especially the point where Will Smith's character is talking to his son, trying to help him calm his panic and fear.  He had his son "take a knee" (so, stop moving) and ground himself in the present moment through his senses: sight, smells, sounds, touch.  That came to my mind--that once I finally stopped moving around, I was able to connect more with my surroundings and what was actually going on, and disconnect from the thoughts of fear in my head, and realize that I was going to be fine (which, ironically, is also what the yoga practice is attempting to teach you as well).

The new driver, Vinay, arrived shortly after 4:00 in the morning, a full 2 hours after my plane landed.  I was so happy to see him that if it wouldn't have been extremely inappropriate, I would have hugged him, lol.  He was very nice and I immediately felt safe with him.  We started on our drive to Mysore and Vinay weaved in and out of traffic and through narrow city streets with such expertise that it was like watching moving art.  Just like my first visit to India, I couldn't help but stare out the window for at least half of the ride, completely enchanted by the Indian city streets and landscape.  I so wanted to take pictures of everything that I saw, to share it with all of you, but, just like the first time, it felt like there was so much going on that I could not distinguish any one thing or scene to single out for a picture that could fully represent what I was seeing.  Not to mention we were moving far too fast!  The drive from Bangalore to Mysore usually takes about 4 hours--Vinay got me there in about 3.  

To say that I was running on fumes by the time I arrived to my friend's place would be an understatement.  I crashed for about 2 or 3 hours before joining her for breakfast and then getting a tour of some of the area and important local spots--such as where the KPJAYI shala is at, where to change money, where good places to shop and eat are at.  She would show me how to get to a place and then have me direct our way back, to make sure that I remembered it.  It is difficult to say exactly how I felt about my first day here in Mysore, other than general feelings of being off-balance and over-stimulated.  Though I guess it must not have seemed that way to everyone, because when I met with the person who arranged my taxi from the airport, aside from sincerely apologizing again, he thanked me for handling it so calmly!  

It has been an extremely long and interesting re-introduction to India, and I am ready for some real and (hopefully) uninterrupted sleep.  Tomorrow, I will go to the shala to finally meet with Sharath and register for practice.  I will see how my body is feeling as to whether or not I want to do a self-practice when I wake up, but I am definitely eager to get back to my yoga asana practice--it has been the thing that best completely grounds and centers me, so I have really been missing it through all of this travel.  So, until next time, I leave you with a picture of one of the things I was most eager to see upon my return to India :-)

Hello again, sweet cows :-)