"... if a leech latches on, just squeeze the juice from these leaves on to it."
The Farmer squeezed the juice and applied on his legs well in advance.
The climb down was more straining on the legs, but it was quicker. We met other trekking groups on their way up and by the time we reached square one, we were completely dehydrated.
To add to the dehydration, our good old friends were waiting for us, next to the car which had bled its battery and was in a state of coma. ....not responding to the remote unlocking signal. You can only guess what Mr Bolt must be thinking.
Once inside the manually unlocked car, the headlamps were turned OFF and we waited for the battery to recover. It needed just enough power to run the fuel pump. That way we could push start the car. As a brand new car it had a brand new battery.... lucky for us. About ten minutes later, our first attempt to push start the car worked, without breaking the teeth of the guys who were pushing it. With a deep sigh of relief, we moved and unwound the cars on the beautiful roads back towards the home stay.
After paying a few extra bucks to the guide for the wonderful trek, we abandoned him at the junction of two roads and headed towards the nearest bar in a small town called Hirebyle.
The victory over Ballalarayana Durga was celebrated in the car with cold beer. We reached the home stay in less than 20 minutes. All the adrenaline that was in the blood was now replaced with chilled beer.
Another Sumptuous lunch, quick bath and were were in deep slumber till late evening.
By 6PM, all of us walked down to the stream and hung around there with refreshed youthful exuberance, eager for the night party to kick off. ....And, what a party it was on the second night.
History repeated itself with a great dinner followed by deep slumber, ..............
and a deeply upset Mr. Farmer at 6.30 AM next day.
" Yen Guru, you snore like that... I had called Bolt and was about to move into their room to sleep... I, in fact got so frustrated, that whatever was reachable i picked and threw it at you,.... but no difference at all man..".
We all had a good laugh and began lazily packing up, to start our journey back to Namma Bengaluru.
After a slow and heavy breakfast, we moved out of the home stay by 10.00 AM. The drive started slow, but gained momentum as Mr. P Peddler started racing his car, pushing it to the limits in an attempt to overtake the VW which i was driving. The sturdy VW clung to the winding and banking roads like a spider. The beauty of nature around and the smoothness of the car made me enjoy the glide and was very happy to let Mr. P Peddler take the lead.
We stopped for a coffee break and change of drivers. The Farmer and Mr. Bolt purchased and sucked on to some sour tamarind peppermints to retain their breakfast in their bowels... thanks to some supreme driving by Mr. P Peddler.
As we left, the VW raced ahead.
Just before Hassan City, someone on the road side signaled using his hands at us, depicting probably a book and a pen. A signal that there are cops ahead with LASER baits to fish speeding vehicles...
"Something new that these cops have started.... elbowing themselves into the path of unsuspecting innocent trail blazers...;-) "
Mr. Saint drastically slowed the VW down. We were safe and passed the cops when Speed Demon gave a brilliant idea to call the tailing Honda (about a KM behind)
".. inform them to drive at full speed and catch up with us as the roads are too good to go flat out.."
We all chuckled and after a couple of minutes i called them ...
"Where are you guys?"
"Paying Fine... " said The Farmer ...followed by some brilliantly composed expletives in Kannada for Mr. P Peddler's driving thrills...
"I told this *@&#*# to slow down... but he didnt... driving like a &#*K this fellow....... @#$%$@$!#%c ...
The cop stopped our car and invited us to the shoulder as if he was inviting us for a wedding buffet .....*&@&$ ..
and now we are paying the fine"..
By the time we had completely heard what he had to say, we were in splits.
The journey continued till we reached Hassan city, where i got my car back and all the three cars headed for their respective home towns, after a good lunch at Fishland Dhaba, just outside Hassan.
The failed Bike Ride plan ended up becoming a fantastic Drive through the Western Ghats which will stay as a cherished memory for ever.
But before the journey really ended... : -).....
After reaching home, we continued to chat or our whatsapp group, when Mr. Farmer revealed a deeply hidden secret to us,... especially me
"What i threw at you in the night was a steel tumbler... sorry boss"...
For which i cursed him a friendly curse with a smiley...
another message cracked on my screen .....
Mr. Speed Demon says " You Drunk P&@#Y... that thing hit me ...".