The parking space at the edge of the village looked empty. A quiet little village of Harshewadi is situated at the base of the hill atop which a fort is still holding its ground. A broken tarmac road passes through the village, with a mere 7-10 houses on either side. A small check dam is built to see the village through the scorching heat of the Indian summer until the monsoon brings water in abundance.
The whole trail to the fort was clearly visible and chances of getting lost seemed slim. At 3 pm, and we started our ascend carrying the rucksacks and tents. It was steep climb at the beginning itself and I had expected (hoped) for it to be gradual climb for the initial part. The last time I climbed the hills was last August, and then on it had been nothing but laziness. With every step forward, my heart was thumping fast. It felt like a heavy boulder was crushing my lungs. The pain rhythmically increased, I found myself sitting on a rock, slouching, but balanced by the weight of rucksack, and I dozed off. I don’t remember how much time had passed but I came to senses by shouting of my friend calling my name. I felt much better afterwards. The power nap was much required but right in the middle of a trek it was unexpected. We took a few more rests before we saw the steep climb end and a more gradual slope started.
Afterwards it felt more like a normal walk since fortunately, it was not the kind of hot that depletes the energy instantly. The trail was canopied by the trees. The sun was not visible, only the slanting rays gleaming down through the branches and leaves. There was palpable coolness in the atmosphere which was a positive sign for the journey ahead.
We continued on the dusty trail until it converged with another trail from Nirgudpada village. Nirgudpada is preferable base village for the trek for the folks coming from Mumbai. There were few shops which seemed good rest poinst because then onward the journey was more like rock climbing. We took enough rest and got prepared mentally for the task ahead.
After a small zigzag ascend, we found ourselves at the base of the famous Harihar fort’s 70° rock cut steps. A family was ascending so we decided to wait until it was clear for us. We marveled at the steps ahead. For a while I felt apprenhensive about venturing on these steps, what with all the luggage that we were carrying! . However seeing those ladies in saree and two little champs effortlessly making their way up, we were revived with fresh hope and vigor. A step at a time, neither looking down nor sideways, concentrating only on the next step ahead, and firmly holding the handholds that were cut on either side, we finally reached the gate.
In front of us was another marvel. The path ahead was literally carved out of stone. The one side was wall of stone, the other nothing. We cautiously moved ahead and came across another flight of steps which would finally led us on the top of the fort. I found these steps to be steeper, but since they were flanked by the rock walls on every side, nothing else except black walls could be seen. It was cumbersome to pass through these steps with the tent that I was carrying. The patch was quickly over and we had finally made to the top. Unlike other forts, there wasn’t much of the “ruins of glorious past”. The highest point at the top was a small hill atop which the saffron flag was fluttering. There were 3 tanks filled with blackish green water along with a small pond which was completely dried. Luckily for us, there were no other trekkers going to camp that night. We didn’t have to explore more to find suitable place to pitch our tents. We set up our tent, roam around for a while, and ate some packed food by the time everyone other than us had returned.
I sat along an edge of the cliff. Thousands feet above the ground, under clear blue sky that had just started to turn into orange and reddish hues, I could see the Vaitarna dam down below. The birds chirping had dwindled but the nocturnal creatures had started waking up. The sun had finally set behind the Bhaskaragadh, and I was already missing my winter jacket. I was weary from the day’s journey. It was still not dark, but I found myself wrapped inside the cozy sleeping bag.
I woke up at midnight to the realization of some other creature’s company inside my tent. My first thought was of a frog, but when the mobile torch shone upon its eyes, I saw a curious face of a mouse starring at me. I jumped and came outside my tent, shouting to wake up my friend in another tent who would have to fight this creature for me. I stayed on higher ground until my friend battled with the mouse. After no trace of the mouse could be found inside tent, I hesitantly stepped inside. I had faint idea that I had left the tent net opened, but was worried thinking if it had put a hole inside tent. I closed the door properly this time and left the torch on for a while. But sleep was not going to come easily now. It was only 10:30 pm but I felt like I had already slept whole night. Outside the sky was clear with twinkling stars. I had thought of taking some night photos but it I chose sleep over it. It took a while to get assured that there was no hole in the tent and I was secure from further intrusion. I switched off the torch and sleep took over the restlessness.
I finally woke to my friend’s yelling. I realized it’s morning and time to relish the sunrise, but again I chose sleep over it. When I finally came out, everything around was still silent. I was expecting quite a few trekkers before the sun rises, but there were none. Though I could hear faint slogans from down below.
We packed our rucksack and tent, and started for the return. Everyone was dreading the downward journey. A step at a time, facing towards the steps, holding the handholds firmly, we started our descent. With no other group visible, we had ample time to get down. While ascend was cumbersome with the tent, the descent felt even more so. It was a great relief when we were finally down the steps.
When we were on the top, we saw an ancient stepwell down below, and few villagers could be seen doing pooja. So we thought of visiting it on our return journey. It was only few meters away from the main trail. When we reached there, the stepwell was being cleaned by few village girls, I guess voluntarily. The stepwell was showing its age. The steps led to a temple of Lord Hanuman. May be because of Mahashivratri, the lively celebration in the air could be felt. Nothing much was to be seen and we resumed our return journey. As we ran down the dusty trail, I observed that the surrounding is largely dominated by a lemon tree like trees, with their inch long thorns quite apparent. I wondered if they were planted intentionally during the times of old. We had taken a different trail from the stepwell, and did not encounter any other trekkers till we reached the starting point.
"Wherever you go, go with all your heart. " - Confucius 