Biking to Kewkradong
January 3 We got out of the tent a bit late in the morning. We prepared oatmeal and poached eggs for breakfast. Few minutes later, we were on our way to Derjilingpara. We had to cross three streams by forming a line and passing the bicycles from one to another. We climbed up a slope and almost immediately had to go down. We reached Derjilingpara when the sun was exactly above us. We ended our day at Karbari's place. By the time we finished repairing our battered bikes, the sun was descending on the horizon.
We wanted to reach the top of Kewkradong that very night. So after a quick dinner we hit the trail again. It was pretty cold outside. The silent moon shone on the peak from a distance. And after 35 minutes of light trekking and biking we were just a few meters away from the final destination. It was bone-chilling over there. We were all exhausted when we finally reached there. The breeze was so unbearably cold that we pitched our tents and went to sleep with a heart full of joy.
January 4
It was a gorgeous morning on the Kewkradongpeak. We crawled out of the tents and started packing. We had a bus to catch from Bandarbans the next day. We waved goodbye to Kewkradong and rode down to Derjilingpara
It was a gorgeous morning on the Kewkradongpeak. We crawled out of the tents and started packing. We had a bus to catch from Bandarbans the next day. We waved goodbye to Kewkradong and rode down to Derjilingpara
Photo & Story: Saad Bin Hossain
© thedailystar.net
I
This was the best part of our entire trip. All the elements necessary for mountain biking were there. We had to ride south-east, through the lush green riverbank. The terrain was really rough. We had to drag our bicycles at times. Ridding the narrow riverbank was hazardous: if you loose control slightly you will end up 10-12 feet down on the rock beds. At one part, the ridge ended without giving us a clue. So we had to grab our cycles, put them on our shoulders and cross the strong water stream. It was a good 60 meters of crossing. But the ridge ended shortly on this side also. This time the water was too deep for us to cross with the cycles. So we boarded an uncomfortably long boat. Holding the cycles tightly, we steadied ourselves with difficulty as the boat rolled violently to our slightest of movements. We had to stand almost like statues for almost an hour. After the excruciating boat trip, we had to ride through the ups and downs of the riverbank. We made the most out of this short run and gained confidence. We reached Ruma bazar shortly after the backup team. We were soon to become the objects of curiosity of the locals. They thought we are some crazy souls trying to do even crazier things with bikes. Disregarding them, we had lunch in the bazaar and prepared ourselves for the next part -- destination Boga Lake.
The usual trekking route to Boga Lake wasn't a good choice for us to ride. So we took the other way there. It was late afternoon and we were on our way to Boga Lake. Both teams started simultaneously, the cycling team a little ahead of the supply team. As time went by, the slopes became steeper. The uneven surface provided no grip. Several times we stopped and took dry food mostly dried dates. We took plenty of water. The day faded away. The moon kept smiling over us providing sufficient light to keep us going. The slopes were now almost 200-220 meters. The deadly downfalls gave us so little chance to control speed. We were simply fighting our way up.
Nine bicycles were stacked close to that boy. David came up with an idea to help out that kid, who is just the same age as his own kid Sheshthoo. This veteran super commercial photographer could sense it before us as he is a father of two kids. He requested us not to capture the child's face, the light and the scene! You might get an award out of your click, but does it really make sense to that pure soul?
Next morning we were riding towards Juri, a new upazila of this territory, as a resting point. The roads were nice. We had to encounter very few vehicles on our way. Drivers waved and provide space for our safety. This is a beauty, beauty of nature as well as the people and certainly it is a bit unorthodox in a city like our beloved Dhaka!
P
After breakfast we started our ride at 9am. It was still foggy. We followed the metal road to Chhagolnaiya, mostly calm as it is not a national highway. The start was a bit difficult as a lady rider, Salma, and Francois, an expatriate working with the International School Dhaka, drew a huge curious crowd. But after some time we managed to peddle our way through. We had planned to halt at Ramgor for the first night but unfortunately Salma's bike developed problems and our 'experts' Sagor and Tonmoy failed to fix it. Finding no other alternative we just hooked up the bike to our support car and Salma had to sacrifice her joyful ride.
T
He handed us the scuba suits and made us carry the equipment to the beach. Atiq gave us a short lesson in scuba diving -- how to avoid formation of the deadly bubble in your blood by climbing too fast; how to use the in inflatable vest with buoyancy compensator to achieve that weightless state under water; how to breathe through masks; how to use the emergency tools. Then he showed us the signs -- you cannot talk under water and so have to learn the signs to talk to your buddy. Then he told us what to do in case of an emergency. We tried to learn as much as possible and were quite satisfied with our half an hour's lesson.
I put the mask on and then took a dip. I could not have been there for more than three seconds by which time I must not have breathed in more than twice. And then an unknown panic gripped me. It seemed that instead of oxygen from the tank, water would gush into my mouth. It was unreal to be breathing underwater. I can't do it, I thought wildly and popped out of water. I was panting with the effort of being underwater for three seconds!
Atiq signalled to crawl along the seabed. I slowly stretched myself and inflated the vest. I was now floating just a feet above the ground. I remembered the James Bond movie Thunderball where Sean Connery did his outstanding underwater feat. I paddled my flippers and amazingly I was effortlessly moving forward. I looked forward and saw an amazing world unfolding before me. Amid the dead shells was lying an anchor. The chain had run straight up and then vanished as visibility came down to zero.
I could now feel a sharp pain in my ears and signalled Atiq about my discomfort. He held his nose to indicate that I should close my nose and blow in. It worked like magic. I was now growing bit bolder and felt a strange kind of exhilaration. I inflated my best a bit more and wanted do a little bit of climbing. I slowly flipped and kept the air bubble coming out of my mouth just above my head. I had to be very careful now, otherwise I could die from nitrogen bubble developing in bloodstream. I was overcome by this wonderful feeling of weightlessness, as if I was floating in the air. I looked down and saw Atiq coming after me. He looked like a huge shark slowing flapping towards me. I shivered thinking of a shark attack. But then Atiq was no shark.
W
A little later the sea started changing colour and St Martin's came into view. The water was now turquoise green. And we could spot the red tiles of the environment department bungalows where we would stay. The coastguard building looked the tallest structure.
Away in the sea floats a huge navy ship, its gun turrets looking like some matchsticks against the blue sky. There were some huge iron poles lying mangled on the resort premise. Later, we came to know that these were windmills that broke down during the Sidr.
W
But the beach was not our main target here. We waited until the sun was a bit mild and then headed in the opposite direction, passing the Rohingya camp on the way. About an hour later, there was this signboard -- Damdamia Forest. Our good friend at the forest department had talked about this place many a time before and insisted that we visited it and trekked.
The trail started right after the information centre. It wound around the lush green hills, gradually gaining height. We were suddenly lost in a world of tall trees. We were in bright sunlight a little while ago, but now a strange kind of muffled light engulfed us. The ground was still soggy from last night's dew and the blades of the wild grasses felt wet. But strangely, this forest did not sound of crickets. Only the occasional buzz of the carpenter bees. We crossed a half-broken wooden bridge and climbed higher. As we looked down, it was a strangely beautiful world down below peeking through leaves and branches.