scending Alagalla

On the adventure trail with Udena Attygalle and friends Shamindrini Sivanandan,Jayanthi Kuru- Utumpala and Nalin Balasuriya

A smashed-up torch, a cigarette lighter dead with the cold and a packet of biscuits was all that was left of our supplies. The idea of spending the night in this leech-infested jungle was rapidly turning into a possibility as the darkness quickly set in.The time read 7.30 p.m. And for the first time we were ready to admit out loud the obvious - we were lost, dead lost on the unforgiving jungle inclines of the Alagalla mountain.

6.00 a.m: Saturday morning at the Fort railway station and Jayanthi, Shamindrini and I were all set to hop on the Badulla train on our way to Alagalla. Nalin would join us at Polgahawela. Shafraz, one of our team missed that train by five minutes, five minutes that would rid him of a life time experience.

The plan was to get down at Kadugannawa and catch a bus to Poththapitiya. The time read 9.00 a.m. when we stepped down onto the Kadugannawa station. But luck would have it that the bus was not working that day. While waiting we were the only people to give a few coins to a beggar woman. The woman in no mean words cursed the rest and promised that no harm would ever come to us. This memory would ring in our ears almost 11 hours later.

On the suggestion of the villagers we were to go to Pilimatalawa and then board a bus to Poththapitiya. From Poththapitiya we could see Alagalla, the 1,143 metre tall mountain. An imposing sight.

A two-kilometre trek toward the foot of the mountain and we decided to cut across a small hill and make it towards the mountain, ignoring the usual path up against the advice of the locals- mistake number 1.

Cutting across grasslands we were eager to enter the jungle, not knowing that hundreds of bloodsucking leeches were waiting impatiently for us to come their way. But we were prepared or so we thought. The sun was up and so were our spirits as we headed up the mountain. Through thick jungle and even steep rocks we climbed. "Towards heaven man" one would say, "one fall and we are in hell," another would reply.

Climbing the rocks first and testing them out was assigned to me. It was a guinea-pig job but it's always fun to be the first to get to the top. One rock was at almost a 90 degree angle and about 100 feet steep. It was decided that it wasn't worth circumnavigating the rock. It was huge and we could see no easier way. So I climbed first. Over a very tricky spot where there was just one crevice to hold onto and I was through.Said Jayanthi "I crawled up the rock and I am glad I didn't look down." " I wouldn't have done it any other time!" Nalin put it.

Another time Nalin suddenly spotted a coiled-up serpent. We were just climbing over a rock and there was no other way except over the serpent. So Nalin watched it as we stepped past.

By now we had climbed for almost three hours and the rains set in and with it the mist.

Oddly enough we found ourselves a cave like structure and avoided the heaviest part of the rain. A break and we were off again.

The mountain seemed to play with us. Each time we thought that we had reached the top another peak would suddenly become visible. After a whole four hours of jungle terrain we had suddenly climbed onto a plain covered in tall grass. A rock was looming in the distance. The peak, the peak, we thought!

Yet Nalin who was in front pronounced, "Guys this isn't the peak but I can see the real peak from here."

Steps quickened and we were soon at the last obstacle on our way to the craggy rock at the top. Climbing it in wet, windy and misty conditions seemed unreal. And gloom set in with the possibility of having to go back down without reaching the peak looming large. But Jayanthi wasn't ready to go back without stepping onto the peak and spurred us on to climb through what is known as the "Singhakata" to the top at 4.28 p.m. Up on the top all huddled together, our spirits soaring, we would shout out loud "Today, we are kings" and like kings we felt.

So cold was it that I was "shaking like a leaf". We could hardly see 10 feet in front of us.

Jayanthi meanwhile lay on her back on the rock. "I looked straight up and all I saw was just pure whiteness," she said. I meanwhile hugged a rock on the side away from the chilly wind and tried to get as warm as I could. Nalin described the final climb as " scary" . And scary it was. On one side was a fall of around 1000 feet and we couldn't even see 10 feet of it.

Maybe it was the cold or maybe the ecstasy of having reached the top or the possibility of getting lost in the mist that we did not explore the top of the mountain: even though we knew there was a easier way down somewhere - mistake number 2 we found out later.

Part 2 next week







Lost
In the second part of his adventure on the Alagalla mountain, Udena R. Attygalle relates the hazardous journey down

After climbing off the craggy cliff, I looked up and said to myself 'never again' though I knew deep down, I didn't mean it. From the top, the mighty Bible Rock and Uthuwankande seemed tiny. Even Hantane far away seemed dwarfed.

On the ground we started thinking again. What route were we going to take down? We had to decide fast. Time was running out.

Somehow, we found ourselves heading down on a different and easier route, to the path we had taken up the mountain, or so we thought. We had to avoid the steep rocks for there was no way that we could actually make it down them, now that it was wet and slippery.

One hour down the mountain and we knew we had drifted far from our original course. In fact we were on another face of the mountain. Keep moving down- that seemed to be the wisest thing to do.

It was around this time that Shami had her first fall. "I was going down on my back because it was the most comfortable position to slide down difficult spots. But this time I slipped and crashed several feet," she recalled later. Jayanthi, above her was mummified. Shami had hurt her right knee. Yet in her own words "I got my act together and started out again."

The first thoughts of disaster dawned on us about this time. Yet nobody voiced their fears. Instead we hurried on through thorns that ripped our denims and slid, rolled, scrambled, anyway we could, down even the steep rocks that we had thought of avoiding at first.

I was the guinea pig again, virtually jumping off the rocks in an attempt to increase the pace, well aware that darkness was moving in fast. By now Shami had a shoe with no sole. "I could feel the twigs through my socks and knew the leeches couldn't be far away," she says.

The leeches were at this time, getting unbearable and blood was everywhere. Stopping to get rid of them, only gave the opportunity for a hundred other small devils to hop on.

7.30 in the night and we were still getting nowhere. "Getting lost on a mountain was exciting at first but then the darkness and the reality of having to spend the night in a leech infested jungle was scary," Jayanthi said later.

At last in desperation we decided to shout for help. The first time there was no response. Our hearts sank a mile. There was nothing to do but to keep on going. Then suddenly out of the blue or black as it was now, I suddenly spotted something shiny........... the leaves of a banana tree. Then there was a sudden noise behind me and I saw Shami down on all fours. She had slipped and was groaning. Checking on her we found out that she was limping badly. We shouted again and this time torchlight and a shout of "who's there?" echoed through the night. Saved! "Those words were the best in a long time," said a joyous Shami .

Nalin, who by now was a few paces ahead on a scout mission waved madly at the man who was approaching with the torch. J.L.A Seneviratne or Bandaiyya of upper Alagalla, Hatharaliyadde was our rescuer and soon safely ensconsced in his small hut we set down to the business of removing leeches, whole colonies of them. Even with two small children he insisted we remove the leeches at his place, and provided us with special soap and water.

The cup of tea that his wife made for us, Shami described as 'the best I have ever had in my whole life' echoing the thoughts of all of us. "It is with God's blessings that you made it out of the jungle, there are trapguns all over the place," Bandaiyya exclaimed.

And so with an oil lamp to show us the way we set out again with the directions Bandaiyya gave firmly etched in our minds. Bandaiyya couldn't come with us leaving his family all alone. Like a group of lost soldiers making their way back to camp,we trudged on- Nalin in front with the lamp, Shami and myself helping her next and Jayanthi at the rear.

Almost an hour later, the road was slowly been taken over by the jungle. This was not how it was supposed to be.

It became painfully obvious that we were lost; again. And then Jayanthi suddenly dashed towards the front, towards the light. Says she, "I kept looking back and seeing huge dark objects. It was like something was going to come and grab my neck!"

We had three options. Keep on going, try and head back to Bandaiyya's place or climb down a path we had passed. It was decided that we would go a little way on the path down and then head back to Bandaiyya's place. Nobody really believed that the path was going to take us anywhere.

But miracles do happen and suddenly I spotted something shiny again. The roof of a shed I was sure. "Civilization," I shouted. And then we heard dogs barking. A TV blaring. We were saved; again. The time read 10.30 p.m..

We had reached some estate line-rooms. Ever helpful, the inhabitants helped us get rid of the leeches. A cup of plain tea was greedily gulped up. Saththivale Krishan of the Alagalla Estate walked with us towards Poththapitiya. A call home and my parents would come and pick us up.

And so there we were having dinner at 2.30 a.m. on January 16, 2000. We had set out at 6.00 a.m. on the 15th. We were to later find out that many at the Wijeya Newspapers office had been woken up late at night and the police too informed about our disappearance.

Most of our clothes were soaked in blood and went into the dustbin.

My parents had been shocked but the lectures would come later. Right then all we could think of was sleep, blissful sleep.

Traditionally it is on the 4th of February each year that a few people make their way up Alagalla. This time is usually the dry season and a path is usually cut for the trekkers. Shamindrini Sivananthan (Shami) is a history teacher at the Asian International School. Although admitting she was on the verge of crying, she never did. Limping and badly bitten by leeches she was the bravest of our group. Her students have advised their teacher to watch the "Blair Witch Project!" Jayanthi Kuru-Utumpala is an adventure-loving journalist at the "Midweek Mirror". She admitted that she would have broken down if Shami had. Yet it was her untiring enthusiasm that kept us going. A friend recalled her describing Alagalla as a "small hill" somewhere off Kandy; that was before the hike! Nalin Balasuriya is the computer graphics artist at the "Midweek Mirror". Never once did he lose his calm during the whole expedition. His confidence was very reassuring. His friends have advised him to take a few old tapes the next time round and use them as a guide rope! As for yours truly, I know where I'll be heading the next time I need some adventure. The beach. Nice and sunny with lots of people around and NO leeches. That is, at least for a while!