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Chapter 1
Welcome to a world where boys and girls do not know of each other.
They are separated by a gate, put under law not to go near.
One fateful day, a boy and a girl meet at the Gate.
Secrets are revealed.
A love blossoms.
A girl is torn between fear and justice.
A boy is torn between life and death.
"The Gate keeps them apart."
Faye Caldwell was falling.
The wind whipped her hair around her face, devouring her, as she continued her treacherous decent toward the ground. She searched frantically for something to hold on to, to halt the fall. But there was nothing. Nothing to protect her from the harsh blows from the wind, nothing to protect her from the pain as her hair bit her skin, nothing to protect her from her imminent death below.
Faye opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her voice was lost in the wind, the sky, the atmosphere. She herself was lost. She could feel herself losing hope, the will to survive. The only thing that kept her going was fear. The fear of her body colliding with the ground. The fear of closing her eyes and never waking up. The fear of everything ending.
Faye searched fervently for the source of the voice. She could feel panicked tears drip from her eyes, flying upwards on her face due to her position. The tears flicked her forehead painfully. She wanted to call out the person yelling to her, but she couldn't. Her voice was gone.
"Faye!" the voice shrieked.
It was then that Faye realized who the voice belonged to: her sister, her best friend that was related to her. Terra Caldwell.
"Faye, please!" Terra cried.
And then, like emerging from out of water, Terra appeared, her expression the definition of worry. Faye reached out, scrambling to catch her sister's hand as she tumbled through the air. Dread pierced her as she fell away from Terra, away from any hope of making it out alive.
Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed through the darkened clouds. Freezing rain poured, soaking her entire body. Her clothes stuck to her like glue, only adding to her discomfort. But Faye didn't care. All she cared about was finding her sister, finding the only hope she had left.
"Faye, look out!"
Faye barely had time to take in the sudden horror of the ground before the impact came. She braced herself, ready to feel fire course through her veins and pain filled her entire being. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come.
But that's not what happened.
Faye opened her eyes. She was standing, her legs full of strength despite the long fall she'd just endured. She shivered. How had she survived such a horrendous fall? Why hadn't her spine broken? Why hadn't she snapped like a twig off a tree branch? Faye sighed shakily, turning her gaze to the rocky terrain below her.
And screamed.
Faye's wails become utterly audible as she stared down at Terra. Her body was twisted, deformed beyond repair. Her neck was broken, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Her palms lay outstretched before her as though she were praying. The sight was gut-wrenching. Faye fell forward, collapsing on all fours before hurling onto the gravel.
But even with her eyes scrunched closed she couldn't escape the image of her sister, lying dead, on the ground.
Faye opened her eyes, staring at Terra despite her yearn to turn away. Something about the disgusting sight consumed her. All she could see was the deformed body of the one she loved. All she could see was Terra.
Suddenly Terra blinked. Faye shrieked, falling back on her butt and scrambling back quickly. She breathed deeply, her eyes never leaving her sister's body. Terra's head turned, twisting around on her neck. Faye stared in a shocked, terrified silence as Terra began to scream.
"You're next! You're next!"
Faye screeched, bolting up in her bed. Cool sweat dripped down her face, getting into her eyes. Faye swatted it away with her hand, giving a deep sigh. Again with the dream. The dream of her sister's death. Terra Caldwell had fallen to her death after throwing herself off a cliff. No one could ever figure out why Terra had done what she did. This is what haunted Faye despite that Terra killed herself seven years ago. Faye was supposed to be the one that Terra trusted with everything. Faye was supposed to be the one that Terra turned to when she needed help.
But Terra didn't turn to her that time.
Plucking the remote from the bedside table, Faye clicked on the television set that sat, kitty-cornered, at the far end of her room. She leaned back into her pillows, taking deep breaths in order to slow her breathing. Despite the amount of times she'd dreamed the recurring dream many times before, the result was always the same: she woke up screaming and sweating, alone in her despair.
"It has been reported that Prita Bancs was spotted trespassing into the Gate's territory this evening."
Her dream forgotten, Faye's attention snapped to the television. The news reporter of channel six, Diana Han, stood in front of Central Park, looking out of place while mothers played with their children in the grass. She did this for effect of course. Just behind Central Park was the forest. And within the forest was where the Gate resided, cutting everyone off from the rest of the world.
"Now, Miss Bancs will be receiving a life sentence in the Government's prison wards," Diana continued, gripping her microphone, trying her best to look professional and informative.
Faye's eyes widened at the news. A life sentence? How close had the woman gotten?
"She will have an hour or so to say goodbye to her closest family members. Nothing else is said on this latest case, but I'm sure it will turn out just like all the rest. Kate?"
Faye glanced out her bedroom window as Kate Ide appeared on the screen, reporting on a fire that consumed a two-floored home an hour or so away from where Faye lived. According to the police it was arson, and people were to inform them if they had any information what-so-ever. With a roll of the eyes, Faye shut off her television set and settled back into her blankets.
Her mind immediately drifted off to the latest rebellious case. The Government never let an arrest go untelevised. It was their way of saying that no matter how many times people attempted to cross into the Gate's territory, they were never going to get over to the other side. The Government would catch you, and they would convict you. It was as simple as that.
No one knew what was beyond the Gate's borders. When Faye was a young girl she always feared that a beast would jump over the Gate and turn on the cities and the women who resided there. Faye used to have nightmares, waking up in tears. Her mother or Terra would comfort her, saying that it was only a nightmare and that everyone was safe. The Government had seen to that. Nothing was going to harm them.
After Terra died the nightmares of the Gate's monsters disappeared, transformed into equally—if not worse—terrifying dreams. Every time it was the same: Faye would fall, her sister would appear, and then she would hit the ground only to find that it was her sister that was dead, not her. Faye wished the dreams would stop, but they wouldn't. They haunted her like a poltergeist. They wouldn't leave her alone.
A loud, high-pitched beeping noise screeched through the night. Faye shrieked, jumping in her bed. After recovering from the shock of the beep, her eyes turned to the television. The screen turned white, enveloping Faye's room in shadows. But, despite Faye's fear for the shadows, her eyes remained trained on the screen.
Her bedroom door opened and her younger sister, Kat Caldwell, appeared. Her dirty-blond hair pulled back into a messy bun. Faye could just imagine Kat tumbling out of bed, awakened by the noise. She'd probably hurried to make her hair presentable before running into Faye's room, not wanting her bed-hair to show. Kat's baby blue eyes were wide as she bounded into the room, hopping onto Faye's bed. Faye scooted over to make more room.
It wasn't long before their mother appeared. Her brunette hair was everywhere. Evidently Mary Caldwell didn't care about what she looked like at five-thirty in the morning like her child did. Faye smiled slightly, gesturing for Kat to make room as their mother stepped forward, entering the threshold.
They sat there, waiting.
A moment later the screen turned static, blacks and white colliding into one. And then the head official of the Government appeared. Courtnie Featherstrom smiled, her magnificently white teeth flashing. She was suit, her hair cascading down over her shoulders. She managed to look laid back yet professional at the same time. "Hello, my wonderful people of Cesve," she began, her voice seeming to boom through the television set. "For generations we have lived at peace, the Government and its people. The people followed the laws given out, and the Government saw that the people were happy. Though, now, that doesn't seem to be the case."
Courtnie's eyes grew dark. "My lovely people of Cesve, the people that I care the most about in the world, are disobeying the simple rule of staying away from the Gate's borders. To keep the rebels at bay, the punishments have grown harsher. Anyone within a one mile radius of the Gate's borders will be convicted and put into prison. We cannot have anyone near the Gate's borders.
"Please understand that the Government is only trying to protect you from what is on the other side. It is all for the greater good."
The screen went black.
Faye glanced at her family members. The weight of Courtnie's words hung through the air. Despite the fact that this new Law didn't really affect their lives at all, it seemed like everything had changed for the worse. Faye couldn't understand why. Maybe it was because it made the issue with the rebels seem so much more real. Maybe it was because it seemed like the Government was simply oppressing them even more. Maybe it was both.
"I'm going back to bed," Kat grumbled finally, standing up and dragging herself out of the room, looking like the walking dead.
Faye turned to her mother who was staring out the window absently. Mary turned after a moment, her eyes meeting Faye's. Mary smiled slightly before letting her mouth fall. "Is everything going to be all right with the Campout?" she murmured.
Faye nodded, dismissing Mary's question with the wave of her hand. "Errika will figure something out."
Mary nodded before standing up and sauntering toward the doorway. She turned, flashing her daughter a smile. "You might just want to stay up and get ready for school," she said softly. "You'll be awfully tired if you go back to sleep now."
Faye nodded. She knew her mother was right. She felt awake now, anyhow. How could she feel tired after her nightmare and then the sudden announcement from the Government? "All right."
Her mother disappeared behind Faye's closing bedroom door and Faye stood up. She made her way to the far end of the room, bracing herself as she flipped on her bedroom light. The light burned her eyes for a moment, but as Faye blinked fiercely, her room became visible.
Faye flopped onto her bed, staring at herself in the body mirror leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Her hair was like fire with its reds, oranges, and yellows all collaged into one single colored. Girls around Eve High had asked if she dyed it numerous times, but she hadn't. Her hair was natural, as we her vibrant green eyes. She smiled slightly at her reflection in the mirror before standing up and trotting over to her bureau.
She paused before opening one of the drawers, picking the picture of Terra up from the wooden surface. Her sister looked exactly how Faye had always wanted to look: beautifully tan with dark locks of curly hair and big, wide brown eyes. While Faye was short, Terra was tall. While Terra was stunning, Faye blended in with the crowd. Faye couldn't remember one moment where she hadn't wished she was like Terra. That was, until, Terra ended her life. Now all Faye saw when she looked at the photograph of her sister smiling brightly while she held her soccer ball within her hands was a mangled body.
Faye sighed shakily, dropping the photograph onto the bureau. She shook her head. She couldn't be getting herself upset right before school started. Errika would have none of that. After a moment of collecting her thoughts, Faye knelt down, pulling a drawer out to choose her outfit for the day.
The | Gate
"A mile, really?"
Errika flicked her wrist defiantly, removing some stray strands of hair from her face. Faye couldn't help but smile at her friend's irritation. Errika was never one to enjoy change, and the fact that it was a last minute change must have overwhelmed her. "It's not that bad," Faye reasoned, fixing her backpack's strap on her shoulder. "We'll just have to stay a mile away."
Errika huffed. "I'd already marked a tree so that we wouldn't go further than we were supposed to," she complained, scowling. "Great, that's one more thing that I have to do. Sign-ups are still going, and nobody's told me what they're bringing." She sighed in irritation. "Sometimes I really hate doing this, you know?"
Faye nodded understandingly. Year after year she watched her friend stress out, feeling guilty that there was no way to help her. When she had attempted to aid her friend, Errika had assured her that she could do it by herself. Though, by the looks of it, she really couldn't. "You sure you don't want any help?" Faye asked slowly, knowing the answer even before Errika spoke.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Errika flashed her a grateful smile. "Everything will turn out fine. I'll just go out tomorrow and mark off the tree so that we don't go too far, and I'll e-mail everyone tonight demanding to know what they're bringing. If they don't reply I'm taking them off the list and opening up a spot." Errika nodded to herself. "Yes, that's exactly what I'll do."
Faye glanced around at the people around her. They'd just arrived onto Eve High's grounds, twenty minutes before they had to get to class. Errika liked to be early so that she could stash away unneeded things into her locker. Faye never put anything in her locker out of fear that a girl would steal something.
They were about to enter the school building when a short, blond, freckle-faced girl flounced in front of them. "Hey, Errika," she breathed. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Errika eyed the girl up and down a moment before nodding. "You have two minutes."
Faye's lips pricked up into a smile. Of the two girls, Errika was the one who had the backbone, the one who wouldn't accept anything before it went her way. Faye may have been brave when it came to dealing with her sister, but when it came to anyone else her mouth was clamped shut. If it weren't for Errika, Faye would have lost so many battles in her lifetime.
"You still have openings for the Campout, right?" the girl squeaked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
Errika nodded. "Yes."
"Is it possible for me to join?"
"That depends," Errika drawled dramatically, eyeing her fingernails. "You thirteen or older?"
"You gonna bring something from the Items Needed list?"
The girl nodded vigorously. "Of course!"
Errika looked the girl over once more before sighing. She glanced at Faye and winked before turning her attention back to the girl. "All right," she said slowly. "Give me your name, e-mail, and phone number on a piece of paper. You have thirty seconds."
Faye shook her head in amusement as the girl rushed to scrounge up a scrap piece of paper and a pen from her backpack. Of course Errika wouldn't really revoke the privilege of going to the Campout just for being slow when giving contact information, but anyone other than Faye wouldn't know that. Errika was known for being tough around the school. No one dared to mess with her.
"Thank you," Errika chirped as she took the paper with the girl's information on it. "Be prepared to get an e-mail tonight. If you don't respond, your spot will be revoked and handed to someone else."
The girl nodded before rushing away, running straight to her small group of friends at the opposite end of the school yard. They talked animatedly, their arms flying around as they spoke. Faye tilted her head to the side. She couldn't fathom why everyone got so worked up over going to the Campout. Though, she reasoned, that might have been because she had the privilege of going every year.
Being best friends with the host really did have its perks.
"Faye, stop staring at people," Errika muttered, grabbing Faye's arm and tugging her toward the school's front door. "It's rude."
Faye rolled her eyes, knocking her friend's shoulder playfully. "Oh, please. It's not like you don't have the habit of staring at people."
Errika responded by staring at her. Faye struggled to contain her laughter as they headed up a stairwell. Errika kept eye contact with her the whole way, her big blue eyes never blinking. Errika's eyes went well with her hair, Faye couldn't help but notice. Dark brown, so dark that it could almost be considered black. Faye had always been jealous of her friend's hair; it was so long and thick, and while Errika always managed to keep her hair looking like a super model's, Faye had to use assorted hair products to keep the frizz at bay.
"Okay, quit it," Faye said, exasperatedly pushing Errika's face away. "You're going to trip, fall, and then die."
Errika wriggled her eyebrows. "And what would you do if that did happen?"
"Stare, laugh, and then maybe loot your pockets for loose change."
Errika stared at Faye for a long time before bursting into fits of giggles. She clutched the railing for support, pointing at Faye as she laughed. "That was good," she complimented once her laughter receded. "That was very good."
Faye laughed along with her friend for a moment before sighing. "I had the dream again."
Errika eyed her sympathetically. "Again?" She brought her arm around Faye's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, babes."
Faye nodded slightly. "I just . . . I keep waiting for the dreams to stop, but they don't. I don't know what to do."
Errika sighed. "Have you talked to your mom about this?"
"No." Faye shook her head. "I don't want to bring the memory of Terra to her when she seems to finally be pulling herself together."
Mary was a sweet woman, and Faye couldn't bear to see her in pain. It hurt to watch such a kind, loving woman sink into a deep depression after her daughter took her own life. For a long while Faye had been angry at Terra, wondering why she would do such a thing to her family. They hadn't done anything to deserve it. Terra had been everything to her mother and Faye.
"True." Errika nodded. "And you don't need Kat getting all upset because Terra dying was the reason why she could be delivered to the house."
The limit of children in Cesve was two per household. Once a child reached the age of eighteen or, like in Terra's case, died another child was able to be delivered to the house. Once a month Government officials came around, delivering ordered children. Though, there were some cases where no one chose to take some of the children available and they were sent to an orphanage near the outskirts of town. It was there that Faye's mother had received Kat.
"Definitely," Faye agreed, nodding. "That was horrible the last time. It was like she'd lost Terra herself even though she's never met the girl before."
Errika sighed, turning and blocking Faye's way from the rest of the stairwell. Faye tried to dodge her, but Errika simply shifted so that the path was blocked again. "Let's not talk about death and depression today, shall we?" Errika said, her tone final. "I don't want you going through that again, all right?"
Faye nodded, biting her lip. "All right."
"Now!" Errika said, her voice becoming animated once again. "What are you going to bring to the Campout? Let me assure you, just because you're my best friend does not mean that I won't revoke your invite."
Faye smiled. Let the day begin.


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Alpha Stars Ur
Written by
Illustrated by
Part of the Alpha Stars Series
Lovereading4kids Price £12.96
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Alpha Stars Ur byThese colourful books teach the basic letters and sounds of the alphabet. There are 49 books in total. The first 26 books cover the each of the letters of the alphabet, an additional 23 books cover additional common letters and sounds met in the phonics programme Letters and Sounds. The books use real life photographs and attractive images to help children learn; letter sounds, upper and lower case letters, consonant digraphs, more complex graphemes, alternative pronunciations and alternative spellings, word and picture association, sound association, practising writing lower case letters.
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Book Info
12 pages
Ransom Publishing
Publication date
5th August 2015
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The Asesino
Silvernist poked her head out of the carriage as they entered a large village full of people. She gazed at the ocean that was sparkling in the sunlight and the waters stretched out from the eye could see. They were all so glad they arrived in Zelda from a three day journey.
As Silvernist was staring out the window she felt her self jerk backward for Ariana pulled her back and now took her place.
"Let me see." Silvernist scowled.
"Oh, but our kingdoms prettier..." She heard Ariana imply. Arake was watching and rolled his eyes. With Ariana coming along how would they survive?
The carriage moved on until they came to a ship dock. Ships floated in a line next to eachother in the water with sailors aboard them. The carriage stopped and Ariana was the first to get out following Silvernist, Arake, Davey, the king and Sir Lorando. All around them were ships with their tall masts seeming to reach the sky.
"Wait till you see the ship I asighed for us," Timothy spoke and led them past the ships. They walked on until Timothy stopped and they found themselves staring at a great ship.
"This is the Asesino," Timothy said.


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Modern photos for awesome families!
Beauty in the ordinary because ordinary is extraordinary… this is what documentary style newborn photography isView full post »
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These 3 month old baby photos are exactly what I envisioned when I went to visit gorgeous baby Vinnie and his family. View full post »
A gorgeous in-home family and baby lifestyle session. No-fuss, just you and your family feeling right at home becauseView full post »
I have had a huge year and worked with some really awesome families! I have loved every minute of it and trulyView full post »
Check out this awesome family who had their portraits at Old Petrie Town. It started to rain right at the beginning ofView full post »
Meet gorgeous little Caleb – 6 weeks old. Sneak peak for the Parsons family.View full post »
You might remember little Ella from her 9 month old baby photos. Here she is now at 16 months old having a morningView full post »
For this 4 month old baby photography session we wanted to focus on the closeness between mum and bub. These imagesView full post »
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|Message view
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|Eli Collins <...@cloudera.com>
|Re: [DISCUSSION]: Future of Hadoop system testing
|Mon, 11 Oct 2010 00:16:44 GMT
Hey Cos, I can't comment on the relative amounts of effort between the options here, but it seems like having a single system testing framework is preferable, in which case it makes sense to extend Herriot to work w/o build instrumentation. This new "standard" mode even seems to be a reasonable default, ie make it easy to add simple black box system tests and only pay the cost/learning curve for FI/instrumentation when needed. Thanks, Eli On Fri, Oct 8, 2010 at 2:06 PM, Konstantin Boudnik <firstname.lastname@example.com> wrote: > All, > > I want to start a discussion about future approaches to perform Hadoop > system (and potentially other types of) testing in 0.22 and later. > > As many of you know recent development effort from a number of Hadoop > developers brought to the existence new system test framework codename Herriot. > If you never hear about it please check HADOOP-6332 and > http://wiki.apache.org/hadoop/HowToUseSystemTestFramework > > Now, Herriot is a great tool which allows for much wider and powerful > inspection and interventions of/into remote Hadoop's daemons (aka > observability andjcontrollability). There's a catch, however, for such powers > come at the costs of a build instrumentation. > > On the other hand, there's a fairly large number of cases where no > introspection into daemons' internals is required. These can be carried by > a simple communication via Hadoop CLI. To name a few: testing ACL refreshes, > basic file ops, etc. > > However, there's a lack of any common understanding yet agreement on how this > might be performed. I'd like to start the conversation which will, hopefully, > let's us work out some tactics. > > I can see three possible approaches (might be more and I just don't see > them?): > 1) adding special mode to Herriot to work with non-instrumented clusters. In > such a mode (let's call it 'standard' for now) the framework will have only > reduced functionality such as: > - start/stop a remote daemon > - change/push a daemon configuration > - simple(-ier) interfaces to HDFS via DFSClient > - simple(-ier) interface to work with MR > - (the list might be extended apparently) > > 2) Groovy (or even bash) front-end for system tests. The latter is pretty > poor, in my opinion, because unlike Groovy Unix shell won't provide > abilities to work with public Hadoop (Java) APIs directly. Groovy, on the > other hand, is much more expressive than Java; it's highly dynamic, and > provides MOP among other things. (Please, let's not start a discussion about > Groovy vs. Scala here!) > > 3) Creating custom SSH-based command executors on top of CLITestHelper and > then reusing the rest of that infrastructure to create tests similar to > TestCLI. > > My ultimate goals is to, essentially, has a single uniformed test > driver/framework (such as JUnit) to control all/most types of tests execution > starting at the TUT (true unit tests end) up to the system and, potentially, > load tests. > > One of the benefits such approach will provide is to facilitate integration of > other types of testing into CI infrastructure (read Hudson) and will provide > well-supported and familiar for many test development environment, lowering the > learning curve for potential contributors who might want to join Hadoop > community and helps us to make Hadoop even better product. > > -- > With best regards, > Konstantin Boudnik (aka Cos) > > A212 4206 7EC6 F8BF 20E6 7C37 32A5 E27E 4C03 A1A1 > Attention! Streams of consciousness are disallowed > > Cos' pubkey: http://people.apache.org/~cos/cos.asc >
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11 mean machines, 11 bad boys, 11 fearless gals, 3 sweepers, 500km of ghat roads, countless mind-blowing valley views, endless tea gardens, lush green jungles, vast lakes & huge dams were the ingredients of a 3-day road trip through the Western Ghats on May 22-24. Here is a recount !!!
Bike Trip through the Western Ghats, May 22nd-24th - Akshaya.T.J
If I said the three day bike trip had been a wonderfully exciting adventure, it'd be an understatement. It was a blessing to get to travel through the Western Ghats taking in all the exotic rendering of nature that we are bestowed with. Every single day was so different from each other each one that can be drafted into a short story full of adventure and fun.
I have tried to summarize the 3 day Bike trip through the Western Ghats through Madurai >Theni >Idukki >Munnar > Valparai > Coimbatore below with almost every memorable detail.
The night before
"The bus to Madurai is in 15 mins but I am still at home!!!" I was almost screaming into the phone to Amal on 21st night (whom I was yet to meet in person). While Amal replied in typical CTC style "that's ok,you take your time" and I really thought "Is this guy crazy, how can the bus possibly wait for us??" and of course the bus did wait, when 90% of the bus had CTCians traveling how can the bus possibly not wait?
Out of the 25 member contingent Selva, Bala traveling by car to Madurai, Arun, Ramya and senthil were traveling from Bangalore to Madurai, The rest of us cruised our way to Madurai in this sleeper bus of KPN .While a significant part of the journey we spent playing UNO and card games; the rest of the journey while we were awake was spent each one of them advising me, pitying me on the choice of my biker, Amal. During the entire journey while one person asked for my insurance details, the other person took a photo which could be my last photograph and Lastly, Peter spun the zinger of them all: to take Amal's safety jacket while am on the bike. So finally when we all called it day it goes without saying that I was filled with nothing but trepidation and it was quite a sleepless night!
Day 1
In spite of the traumatic (jus kidding!) episode the previous night, I was filled with a surge of excitement when we reached Madurai on 22nd morning around 6 am. While the bikers set out to pick up their Machines from the parcel service the rest of us hogged on delicious south Indian breakfast. By the time the bikes arrived we were all starting to feel the adrenaline rush with the atmosphere so charged and so positive. The upbeat spirit took a slight set back for a few minutes when we realized that Peter's bike keys had been left behind In Chennai. The damp moments lasted hardly a few seconds immediately after which guru and the others set out to find a lock smith. While the Sun was slowly rising and scorching down mercilessly, we were all waiting for the lock smith to work his magic:" The art of Lock picking". Well, the Lock picking procedure consisting of taking in the shape of the lock and filing the grooves accordingly on to a dummy key. So after 20 minutes of maneuvering, burning and filing, Voila! Peter had keys for his Bike! Yippee!
As we were approaching midday we were having the final preparations to hit the road. While all our big backpacks were being dumped on to Selva's Car, The essentials needed on the road were transferred to saddle bags and petrol tank bags. The bikes got their fuel tanks filled, minor adjustments in the bikes were being taken care of. .Finally, a slather of sunscreen, donning our Scarves, Jackets, Sunglasses and Helmets (Phew!) we were good to go. So there we set out on 22nd may …to conquer the Western Ghats...making history.
The CTC battalion…11 biker dudes (err!!)…10 daring gals and Balaji as pillions on 11 Mean Machines and Selva, Bala and Senthil on their Verna. The itinerary for the day was to reach thekkady via Theni and Idukki. With the sun scorching down we weaved our way out of the erratic Madurai city traffic and hit the highway. While the other bikers cruised along side throwing a knowing smile at me and Amal; I was overcoming my initial trepidation and was getting acquainted with my biker .After an hour of riding with Amal not only was I confident that I would survive the ride, but having a laugh riot especially when he abuses the bus and lorry drivers using English expletives. J.
Even as were approaching Theni, we were able to view the Western Ghats in its full glory; so overwhelming and scenic with the clouds grazing beautifully on the Mountain tops. It was one of those moments that you are thankful for being able to witness such unadulterated beauty and can't get enough of it. So jus before we started to climb the ghats we had stopped to take pictures, we were approached by a local tabloid and were interviewed and photographed. We were stars already!
After appeasing our hunger at Theni all of us except for Peter and Madhu whose bike needed to be fixed started from theni planning to go ahead and wait somewhere along the highway. We found this perfect spot, a small clearing with a well by the cornfields. As usual Guru dove into the well, followed by Amal and Nisha. The rest of us rested on the grass and some of them feasted on the corn cobs. After regrouping with peter we set out again. We progressed further down for an hour and ahead of us guru pulls over to the curb but this time we are looking at this lovely vineyard! Like it has been copied and pasted from some exotic foreign land. We got to feast on some heavenly and a little sour black grapes directly from the creepers. Though we got screamed at by the watchman later it was so worth it.
The day was turning to night; we progressed steadily on the ghat roads towards Idukki, visited a tree top view point and got a breath taking view of the valley below. Slowly as the twilight disappeared and darkness began to engulf us the roads began to get difficult ride. The rugged roads combined with the rain and mist weaving in and out got the best of us.Paari and Balaji miraculously escaped with minor injuries from a fall due to the rugged terrain.
As we progressed further the mist surrounded us completely offering zero visibility forcing us to move really slowly with caution. Our only bacon of hope was the tail lamp of the bike going before us and the thought of reaching this resort where were to have our dinner. Post dinner we set out to search to for a camping site to halt for the night. After rejecting the idea of sleeping at a bus stop and a graveyard we finally got allowed to stay at the front yard of a church in Idukki. So with the rain lashing away and a gazillion frogs croaking we all fell into a blissful sleep for the night
Day 2
It was somewhere around 6'oclock in the morning when a bell started ringing. It was almost romantic, waking up in a church on top of the hills, to a beautiful cold morning. But the romance of the morning stopped there. What with the Pastor ringing this huge bell signaling us to wake up and leave. So 15 minutes later after scrambling to freshen up and pack up we were heading out to Munnar; but not before a quick photo session and swapping the bikers and pillions for the next day.
After a pseudo breakfast of Chai and biscuits we were proceeding towards Munnar with full josh. We rode through the exhilarating landscape savoring in each inch of gorgeous tea estates, exotic flora, the mist that grazes along every few minutes, the distant valleys, the serene mist covered lake. All that one could do was to be thankful for being alive and with the fresh air filling our lungs and cleansing out the entire carbon monoxide one feels alive. In the mesmerized state we had somehow reached a point above the club mahindra resort near Munnar when Peter announced a surprise trek!
Well, the trek was to a 400M peak on top of the club mahindra resort; was a relatively easy trek. The rise was gradual, the terrain was also favorable. The only villain was the altitude which caused breathing difficulties for some people, especially me panting my way to the top. We reached the top in ah hour's time. The view down the valley from the peak was simply breathtaking. The nearby peaks, the far off picture perfect houses, the winding roads, the tea plantations, the roofs of the resort were a visual treat from that altitude. It was a true gala time up the peak with Peter's stunts at the edge of the cliff, all of us forming a human chain, arun lifting three people.
During the descent some of us got bitten by leeches. Before leaving we went to this placid lake with freezing water at the base of the peak onto which most of them dived and refreshed while the rest of the non swimmers sat and watched. After a small run-in with the club Mahindra guys on trespassing we were on the move again. By afternoon we had reached the town of Munnar for lunch and after the meal there was a small discussion as to where we were heading next as we were behind our schedule. So finally we settled upon going Valparai via Udulamalaipet and Aanamalai.
After a quick lunch at the outskirts of Udumalaipet, we proceeded towards Aanamalai in search of a camping for the night.We proceeded down this dark not so wide road looking for a place to stay. After being denied to stay in a couple of buildings, rejecting a saw mill; we grudgingly approached a Lodge at the foothills of Aanamalai.The lodge was a small neon orange building which was apparently full. We got a shed for the girls to stay. While the Men crashed on the parking space of the lodge.
Day 3
Most of us woke up early the next day at the prospect of having a bath. Most of us queued up for our turn. Some went to the stream nearby and bathed with cattle alongside. After a quick chai and gathering our things, we proceeded towards Valpaarai. The ghats road to Valpaarai consisted of 40 hair pin bends; through the wildlife reserve of Aanamalai; the natural habitat of endangered species of lion tailed macaque. Right after the 9th hairpin bend we stopped at Loams View point; at the huge Aliyar dam water reserve below. With the wind rippling and sun rays reflecting of the surface; we were all mesmerized and lost in thought for a few minutes. After a group photo session and cruising through the tea estates we reached Valpaarai for breakfast.
After breakfast; the plan was to head out to the sholayar dam which was 28 kms from Valpaarai. One group headed by Peter set out to the dam. The other group consisting of 5 bikers, we somehow lost sight of the first group. As none of us were really sure as to where to the first group was headed we took the road out of pure intuition. We headed out of Valpaarai and tried asking people on the way. We got mixed responses from the locals about spotting group of bikers. So after a good one hour of adventurous riding and checking with the locals it became evident that we have indeed come the wrong way. So we headed back to Valpaarai
This time we took the other way from the city and thankfully the locals clearly told us they had seen the other group an hour back. After 15 mins of riding on the right track with the rain lashing down upon us, we spotted the other group returning from the Sholayar dam. Apparently, there was not much water and hence we did not miss much. It was absolutely hilarious when we proceeded back in the same direction where the 2nd group had proceeded earlier. So thus we began our descent down the ghats to reach Coimbatore via Pollachi.
During the descent we had a very memorable time with peter riding with 3 people first: Sheetal, Balaji and Nisha and then with four people Sheetal and Ramya on the petrol tank, followed by Peter, me and then Nisha suspended at the back. After swapping back to our bikes we stopped at the Aliyar dam for a dip. At the sight of water all the pro swimmers plunged into the water. While the rest of us watched. Hardly after few minutes Peter came and dragged me and Madhu in to the water.
I was being floated into the water to a shallow point, followed by Madhu, Sheetal and Ramya. While we yet to comprehend how far into the water we had come, Peter already had other plans. He wanted the girls to be lifted on their shoulders by the guys! Yeah, next thing we were all lifted walked a few feet forward, photographed and promptly dropped back in to the water. On our way back to our bikes from the water we had a small tiff with the locals who were tying to bully us for money. Balaji told them where to go and we stormed out of the place leaving behind only smoke and dust for them to devour on.
Well, with leaving the Aliyar we had left the ghats L and heading to Coimbatore via pollachi. We were back to the plains with all the heat and humidity. We reached Coimbatore with just enough time to load the bikes at the transporter and scramble our way to the bus stop to go back to our respective destinations. The three days were so refreshing; being away from the concrete jungle; nestled on nature's lap. In a way the experience was holistic and almost spiritual. The days had no Outlook Express or Pizza Delivery or Air-conditioning but we felt completely relaxed, rejunivated and completely ALIVE!
Anna Campbell
Transport the toys of eleven boys to a land where misty, meandering mountains roll out of ride roaring roads; throw in ten perfectly poised pillions (and one Balaji); bask in the luck of last weekend of calm before the south-west monsoon strikes - don't forget the usual spoonful of CTC adventure and Indian randomness before leaving for three days to explore. Makes for a memorable weekend.
I'll not give a blow by blow account – just offer three of my favourite moments for use as enticement to potential future riders and pillions. It's worth mentioning that I know very little about bikes; to me Enfield is a dodgy, dirty place in the suburbs of London. I certainly never expected to find myself closely acquainted with three of them in one weekend as we pillions made a daily rotation; each bringing far more positive connotations to the word and transporting me through the Kerala countryside in stylish safety.
After arriving in Madurai on the first day we made a long, eventful drive into the Ghats. The threat of rain was apparent from our first, distanced sighting of the mountains – clouds rolling over their peaks, shielding their valleys from view and creating a perfect picture (not that CTC photographers need that much of an excuse). As the gradient of the road increased it became obvious that, 'il pleuvra' and soon the fat drops fell from the sky. As sensation-filled as this watery drive was, it was but an appetizer to the post-dinner digestif; mist.
Mist is something I am familiar with as it envelops London in an atmospheric blur for months on end – I've always avoided driving in it, in fact it makes you want to huddle as close to an open fire as possible, preferably with some kind of toddy. This was a similar consistency of mist (note stereotypical British weather obsession), equally treacherous but at a far friendlier temperature. It made what had been a roller-coaster ride through pot-holed ground on the way to the restaurant more of a ghost-train – the ominous music provided by a chorus of frightening (or frightened?) frogs. I can imagine it took all of the fatigued rider's attention to negotiate the road – indeed, as a pillion I concentrated hard knowing that four eyes are better than two, even if two only have the power to passively yelp rather than instinctively act. Shoulders relaxed as the mist lifted and the road smoothed out and we continued on our quest for accommodation. Possibly this is an odd incident to describe but with hindsight the tension made it an enjoyable one and it represents just one of the exhilarations enjoyed on the trip.
For the next exhilaration, I move to day two where the reputed Kerala beauty really revealed itself as wild flowers mingled with dense undergrowth to create a mêlée that would please the most fastidious of English gardeners (my parents spent years training creepers that here run spectacularly wild!). Here too the olfactory tour began, sinuses cleared from Chennai smog I could smell fresh… and after Chennai smog, fresh smells good; it makes breathing a joy rather than simply a necessity and allows the spectacular scents that flowers exude to be truly appreciated.
The drive through undulating scenery – vibrant jungle complementing ornamental jigsaw puzzled tea plantations - was truly breathtaking, as the photographs testify, and it made me think that nature really does know what she is doing with regards design and perhaps we should leave her to her work more often than we currently do. The bike, of man-made design of course, enjoyed this journey immensely and actually, in my opinion, is the best mode of transport for appreciation of this countryside; allowing for 360 degree panoramas of the intriguing landscape. Too many times I saw pillions opening their arms to feel the freedom of traveling at speed through such a backdrop. It was during this part of the trip that I decided that retirement to Kerala would be the optimal way to spend one's dotage – waking each morning to feel the life of the hills breathing around you.
The final anecdote takes place in exactly the opposite location to the previous one – perhaps to illustrate diversity, or perhaps because no tour of India is complete without the experience of a Metro and its associated stresses and chaos. The journey back into Coimbatore had me perform my only significant pillion duty (apart from posing for photos that is). When Amal's bike had drunk its last gulp of petrol and stopped exactly in the middle of a level crossing, at the precise moment that the lights changed I could not help but laugh at fate's joke. Any other moment would have been fine – this was probably the worst possible. However, using initiative and strength I didn't know I had I leapt off my aching bottom and shoved the bestial bike, guided by Amal, out of the way of the honking, impatient sea of vehicles. A small act of thanks (and self-preservation) for all his hard work driving us through the various conditions the day had thrown up. It also set the tone for the predictable difficulties associated with guiding eleven bikes through the Sunday night rush hour to the bus loading location.
Even the disappointment of having reached the end of the trip and beginning the journey back, combined with the tiredness of three nights with minimal sleep could not dampen the spirits of the participants of the first CTC biking trek. The positive and energized attitude the weekend fostered took a battering by the loss of the bikes in another of fate's jokes (the lorry accident) but it remained admirably intact and I doubt it would stop anyone repeating the adventure on another occasion. Thanks to all the organizers and participants for making this weekend AWESOME (an over-used but appropriate word in this context) – I couldn't recommend such a trek highly enough to others and would only provide one piece of advice; pillions: take a cushion!
Hari Balasundaram
Day 1: May 22nd: Madurai to Nedumkandam: Apprx 180 kms
Day 2: May 23rd: Nedumkandam to Munnar to Aazhiyar Dam: Apprx 220 kms
Day 3: May 24th: Aazhiyar Dam to Vaalparai to Coimbatore: Apprx 200 kms
Terrain – Plains and City traffic to start with - Hills and Ghats Section for most of the 2nd & 3rd day and close the formalities with city traffic at Coimbatore
The Road runs on and on
From thy doorsteps – begins its journey
To pursue it – be our destiny
The Road runs on and on
Only to meet a larger one
Where another thousand roads meet
This in summation – was how our bike trip across the Western Ghats began in earnest; the goal being not just in mere pursuit of a reaching a destination in time nor taking known roads to ease our way through the Ghats but by breaking this single minded vision into a kaleidoscope of little simple breaks ala be it stopping for a cuppa chai or for a walk through the tea estates – Every step into the wild and the greenery was taken at a sedentary but childlike fashion that simply bought nothing but sheer joy in the minds of the lucky few who chose to tread into this taming of the machine trip – that believe me – on a paradoxical note bought nothing but sheer peace and tranquillity into our otherwise cranked-up confused minds.
The journey although chosen to look like a walk-through a maze in an uncomplicated fashion was indeed planned in detail from the start to finish – the 'ifs and the buts' villains showing their nasty ways of what could go wrong and the team ever so clinically addressing the issues in clock work like fashion helped us ease through the last stages of the trip with little or no difficulty at all.
Elsewhere in Kerala – Monsoon Magic had begun already and while we were counting in hours to the D-day – News had already begun 'pouring' in from Kerala of an impending burst of showers across the Ghats – And would you ever lose heart being a CTCian – what better way to romance the monsoons than be there when it arrives on the shores of God's Own Country – Kerala. Such was the mood and the mindset that nothing could have ever stopped us from breaking into the wild with our beasts of a machine and a beauty to tame him on the tail when needed!!!
We had packed our bikes off to Madurai in advance to avoid last minute blunders. Our problems of carrying excess baggage on a bike trip was finally addressed by a brute of a machine – the Verna - driven by equally 'mad-max like' brothers – Selva n Bala who drove all the way from Chennai to Madurai to Coimbatore – quite a ride ey !!! Monsoon Magic worked in my favour with my clients delaying payments – we chose to stop work at the site and Voila – three days of no work meant – no phone calls and superfluous masti on the road trip and with nothing to stop me now – I was on cloud nine waiting to see the heavens meet earth in the beautiful western Ghats and watch life begin all over again.
The sleeper coach bus from Chennai to Madurai helped revive ourselves for a gruelling start in the Sun; Madurai finally was in our sights at 8 in the morning – Periyar Bus Stand on a Friday morning looked deserted – strange in' it !!!
Our bikes were safely ensconced at National Travels – a healthy breakfast and filling our beasts to the brim with fuel – We were ready to take off but for the fact that our machine of a man – peter had to attend to his beamer with a minor glitch. Arun, Ramya & Senthil joined us at Madurai from Bangalore - We finally hit the roads at around 11 not wanting to look back at the civilisation for anything at all. Our sights were now set for the theni – kumuli highway – via counties and beautiful sun kissed fields of paddy, corn and bananas – the journey was very comforting indeed – given that my machine would not do more than 60 an hour – I was more than happy to listen to him rather than push him to the limits and was fully rewarded the next two days with one hell of a ride with no complaints whatsoever..
My Canon kept egging me on to stop wherever possible and being the last of the herd – I did not want further delays therefore kept my canon in the sacks until we reached theni for lunch. A sumptuous lunch that sure would have put us all to sleep if not for the drive ahead – we strode off in a typical Harley Davidson fashion 'vroom - vrooming' all other vehicles out of the way until we hit the highways yet again.
Peter's monster hit yet another snag and we were given a well deserved break off the highways and some of us chose to hit the sack for whatever possible time we got – whilst Guru n Nisha chose to jump into the well with aplomb n ease. Amal in his very own 'characteristic' apparel chose to dive in the well too and they all clambered upto safety. Peter's two wheel wonder was finally ready to take the roads and we were all back to where we belong finally...
A break at the vineyard, a pit stop, and a heart-craving stop for mangoes later – we had reached kumuli – Our journey into the Western Ghats had truly begun.
Kumuli – the sleepy little town plays host to thekkady - a beautiful little nature reserve that forms part of the Mullaperiyar dam and also plays host to the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary. We were to take a right to our gateway to the Western Ghats and our road to Munnar.
Our first break in the Ghats thankfully bore fruit as we chose to trace the tracks for our first rendezvous in the night. Cutting chaaiya, vada and sweet bun on the menu added to the fan fair.
Now Began our journey into the unknown – a road that led to a sedate soothing outgrowth soon gave way to a watch tower; a glimpse of the little town below that could have been theni for all we know and we were back to the roads treading our way back to Munnar and may be – on the way – hit the sacks before another exciting day out.
We soon hit upon a resort where we hogged as much as we could on a buffet menu replete with keralite and south Indian specialties and toasted the dinner with a special kheer and chocolate pudding dessert.
And all the while – the Rain gods chose to stay put in their alcoves drizzling a bit here n there but no significant monsoon shower had come upon us to scare the living daylights outta us.
Just when you thought that the day had been successful in terms of zero incidents; Paari and Balaji misread the median of a newly laid road completely and skidded down to a halt. Preliminary scrutiny revealed nothing serious had occurred and we were off in a flash to find a spot soon.
The event of the day however - irrefutably belonged to the mist that covered us pan 360 degrees whilst our ride down to Nedumkandam – near-zero visibility and no fog lights to help show the way further - Peter simply led the way as if he could see through almost anything in thin air.. Me right behind could make out nothing and the only thing left for me and Petra was to bang our heads with our head gear and laugh all our way out of the mist amidst eerie silence from the rest of the team.. Diwakar suddenly strode across in non chalant fashion reminding me of the importance of tailing Peter and he chose to lead the rest from Peter's tail – A red light can be seen even in zero visibility and Diwa's tail lamp was the shining armour at that moment.. I needed no further excuse but to follow RED ... we cleared the fog in minutes; me n Petra banged our head gears yet again to announce the successful arrival outta the mist.
As a CTCian, the rule of thumb when hitting the sack is to find a place in the open and be one with nature – in 'it ... Our problem here was not that we could not find a place but to be invisible in the ambience that surrounded us, which you would have guessed by now, was near impossible with 11 bikes and a Verna to park their boot on. A school, a residence with a big front yard and church that offered to show the door to 25 mavericks – we finally hit the jack pot at yet another beautiful church with a big enough front porch – but the catch was that we leave the church premises at 6:45 as mass would start moments later and so it was that we slept early that nite and who would ever complain after such an eventful day.
I would – with Rumble in the Bronx competitor – Paari to my left and add a voice-over to the proceedings – Arun Gowda had taken his place in history – the man with the gift of gab would not even shut shop while sleeping and such was his panache that I had to wake up to see if he indeed was on the phone explaining how the trek went – "The trek was amazing – ahem ahem ... yeah yeah ... you should have been here" – at 2:30 in the morning – would you ever find such beautiful company in an otherwise peaceful and silent as a dead leaf wilderness – I forced myself to sleep and thankfully though – Paari this time roared back in delight at Arun's comments – the music and the mayhem was too much to bear for me – and when the clock stuck 5:45, the tinker bell had raised its alarm in the jungle. The insect world came alive yet again and my sleep went off in a flash – I had to sit up and listen to the roars of Paari and the incongruent yet clear blabbers of Arun went unchecked by everyone else but me lying next to him.
So much so for a good night's rest – not a trifle of a recollection from either of them only made me go mad on a beautiful misty morning. My canon chose to help me this time and I was only happy to get the group together and click a moment or two outta them.
A new day and a new partner – Nisha joined me for what I chose to be a great day for my Canon –Fight unto death option!!! And so it was – the tea estates and the lilting landscapes adjoining the forest reserves to choose from – devikulam was at our sights early morning and we chose tea over breakfast – an hours' drive separated us from Munnar and we jauntily drove out to meet her highness in the hills of Munnar. Meanwhile a king fisher and a cormorant toasted our presence in a small jeel for company – we had reached the outskirts of Munnar when Peter chose to trek one of the hills adjoining Mahindra Resorts.
The trek bought bloom n sparkle into our tired legs – it was "breath – taking" indeed in every literal sense of the word – the climb steep enough to accentuate the proceedings – was worth every penny not spent on a puttu and aapam curry - How else would you dictate the terms of endearment when a couple of chai and biscuits would drive u up the hill – Peter delightfully called it the test of mental strength – and indeed it was – fun on the run as I call it – my canon for company delivered some of the best pics here – Arun as 'kaaka kaaka' – the police man – would sure agree with me.
The return was as eventful; with the local guide announcing the presence of a lake nearby and no water goes untouched by CTC – jumping jacks and hobbits took to the wild side of things and our sound was too much to keep the officials away. It was later known that the lake we jumped in was private property and it was a drinking supplement for the tourists visiting the resort.
Our return back to the machines was uneventful to say the least and soon we rode out yet again – this time with only one thing in mind – FOOD.. Munnar finally came to the rescue. A sumptuous lunch yet again with no limits of time this instant – we were full and ready to take on the Ghats yet again.
Our destination – Chalakudy – was misread and misdirected and we ended up touching the outskirts of Marayoor instead – a tranquil county that housed the forest reserves of chinnar and also home to the thoovanam water falls; which we could see from the point where we chose to decide on where we were to head next.
Although wanting to stay back in the Ghats section but without an iota of information on Marayoor and its rich environment – Nothing could have been done anyways and with the forest guard ruling out any chance of trekking to the thoovanam waterfalls alone by us – there was little chance of doing it without any consequences so to speak. After deliberations within the group, a decision was made to head to the Aazhiyar Dam – stay put for the night and head to Vaalparai early morning. We drove out into the night – half expectedly to catch a glimpse of any wild life but none really came to our aid.
A final stop for dinner about 45 kms from Aazhiyar; with our fill for the night complete – we rode into darkness of the night looking for a place to crash and rise early to begin the ascent to Vaalparai. As luck would have it and it's a known pact anyways with the local community around udumalpet, hell bent on keeping strangers away to the maximum in the nights i.e. – there was little chance of us finding a safe shelter in the open.
The Balaji lodge – the only one in the Aazhiyar County opened its doors with whatever space was left and we chose to hit the sack on the parking space for a cost whilst the ladies were given safe cover to rest within a room.
All our thoughts about meeting the Sun rise at the heights of Vaalparai were now nonexistent considering the time at which we crash landed in Vaalparai. My sleepless nights continued with me waking up to charge my camera batteries and for drinking water. I woke up yet again at 5:45 to welcome the insect world for yet another beautiful day and with the local chai wala up early helped every bit. A cuppa chai helped ease myself a bit and I soon was ready for the next day clean and comfy.
With plenty of time on our hands, some of us chose to ride down to the river to take a bath. Fresh water, curious locals and a pink fly made it a memorable outing and I was further enthused when a scarlet minivet / black bird which I still know not chose to pose for the camera for a very long time - a rewarding experience in the end.
The team finally ready for the ascent rode into the valley of now barren Monkey falls & attakatti waterfalls. Professor Ramya chose to ride with me and we were soon chatting away about our last trek experiences and life otherwise.
My last visit to Vaalparai was in 99-00 with my schoolmates whilst we also drove up n down the hill in a Yamaha RX 100 & all I could remember was the drive around the numerous hair pin bends and the Balaji temple. The roads were fresh and well laid and inviting nonetheless to put our machines to the test.
If you aint doing it – you aint riding it – and with no requiem to drive slow around the hills – I cautiously chose to drive the hills with a very little freedom that you seldom get from a pillion who would otherwise taunt you to choose a safe path rather than be sorry about it later. Ramya had no qualms about the drive otherwise and thankfully – I had found a great pillion for the day – no disrespect to any of the other members – mind you!!
But then – she gave me enough rope to play around – just enough to a point sometimes that I was actually having fun with my bike – a nonexistent synergy suddenly opened up in the vestibules of the numerous hair pin bends – Me and my little Honda Shine were now one soul in two different revved up modes – the zone , the moment , Nirvana – that very altar that very few seek it and so less achieve it was finally there for me to feel and live within – my bike was driving me into soulful bliss and here I was with one heck of a pillion having it all without remorse or guilt and yet whenever I chose to ask her how she felt – Am perfectly fine - came the answer.
Breakfast at Vaalparai was pretty much a local affair – dosas and chicken for some while the rest chose to happily gobble chutneys and sambar instead. At around 11 – we still had time to go around Vaalparai. Sholayar dam was the chosen destination – Some of our bikers lost track of the lead team and woefully fell back - Being the last of the group and having known the destination – it was decided that we join the team at any cost and not make our own way instead. The confusion did cost us time nonetheless – the group managed to stitch together and a tea break ensured we all had our minds set for the return to the native.
Peter thought differently and he chose to drive down the Ghats with 3 and then 4 pillions. It was a pretty sight alright with only the primates and I waiting for them to cross my Canon – and Ramya with her camera readied up for the challenge and we did end up winners in the end.
After a nice drive down the Ghats – would it be aright if you aint swim and chill in the Aazhiyar waters – we rode into the residence of a local and the dam waters was soon in sight. A quick dip and a cross over to a mound across the waters – we were all ready for a group click.
It was the return from the rock that taught me yet another lesson in swimming – No matter how half baked you could be as a swimmer – you are no better than a non swimmer when it comes to panic attacks and the moment when you think you are gonna drown; No amount of reading or practice of floating in the safe waters can help you when your brains decide to switch off everything else but the panic mode. I had fallen into the deep yet again without proper practice and this time there was no respite atleast for a few seconds when I could have drowned both Nisha and Maelle – two brave souls who chose to escort me safely back to the shores. The sleeping mat in my hands from Bastien laid my brains to rest and I could finally feel air filling my lungs yet again.
A moment of panic so uncalled for, which could have been duly avoided if I had chosen to put my brains to use rather than test its strength with impudence and ignorance in the deep waters - although happened in a spur of the moment – remains etched in my head for another day to erase it completely – the day when I shall swim across free as a fish would in any waters – and this to me – is the ultimate task at hand right now – Go Kill yourself swimming – but no more excuses about drowning another brave soul trying to save yours.
A few moments of rest to breathe easy and we were finally off to the target point – Coimbatore where we would board our bikes and bus back to Chennai.
Although – an indifferent end to the proceedings marked the last part to an otherwise brilliant biking trip – I soon had to shrug it off to ensure that we reached Coimbatore safe and sound on time. A group click on the way bought me back completely to the group's content and we drove off comfortably to Coimbatore touching base just in time to load our bikes and board the bus to Chennai.
Looking back – there has never been a dull moment – Be it the pre – prep mode when emails were shot at almost every minute – to the first day drive across the valley – sleeping amongst T-rexed nosed snoring competitors and a somniloquist who blew my brains apart at 2:30 in the morning – to the sun kissed tea estates and the little birdies and homies who posed every bit for my canon – From a moment where I was in Elysium riding my new Honda Shine and to one where panic and blood gushed into my veins and arteries of almost every blood vessel in my head – the effect was pretty much similar – the only difference was that – whilst one moment - was calling for action to help save myself, whilst the other - was driving me nuts and I loved every moment of it.
There was nothing amiss from the whole trek and I can't help but think – And with the Monsoons playing perfect hosts this time choosing not to wish us good bye in their alluring fashion - If, How would it be – If we had lost way yet again in the night on our way to Aazhiyar?
Until our next biking trip when we chase the Athirampalli waterfalls – Dream on folks and think of the various adventures we could have really had by taking the road not taken!!! Only to meet another large one and who knows where we would have gone from there on!!!
Written by: Akshaya T.J, Anna Campbell , Hari Balasundaram
Organized by: Peter
Participants: Peter,Julien, Bastien, Diwakar, Vikram, Vetri, Paari, Amal, Arun, Guru, Hari, Selva, Bala, Senthil, balaji, Anna, maelle, petra, rosaline, nisha, ramya, sheetal, madhu, akshaya, divya
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A relaxed and somewhat chatty Tiger Woods wrapped up his 2013 season with media after the Tour Championship on Sunday, when he made mention of a streak he had in 2007 where he "made everything" and won a lot. He said the same was true with Luke Donald on his ascent to No. 1, that he made putts and couldn't hit a bad shot; and same with Rory McIlroy, too, when he soared to No. 1.
(Remember him? Rory? Curly haired kid? Irish accent?)
So I guess that Tiger Theory is as good a way as any to explain the Henrik Stenson Phenomenon that seems to have visited golf from an alternate galaxy.
The 37-year-old Swede is the latest to have the golf gods pull him aside, give him a wink and say: "This, kid. This is your time. Enjoy it, because we won't be saying this to you for the rest of your life. This is what we do. We come, we reward those who find something in their swing and in their brain, we let you roll, we get you paid, and then eventually we'll come pull the rug out from under you. Just ask your pal Rors."
Presto! Henrik Stenson, the guy who endured two career slumps so mighty you thought he'd fallen off the face of the Earth; the guy who famously played a golf shot in his boxer briefs; the guy who has a simmering temper below his stoic Scandinavian mug is, after a Tour Championship and FedExCup playoff triumph, all of a sudden King of the Golf World.
[Related: Henrik Stenson wins Tour Championship, FedEx Cup with steady hand]
Want to hit a green in regulation? Stenson's your man, leading all players at East Lake, just as he did in two of the other three FedExCup events. Want to rank first on the PGA Tour in ball striking? Stenson's your man. Want to go wire-to-wire at the Tour Championship, with the pressure of a $10 million prize and a side bonus of $1.4 million for winning the event? Stenson's your – very wealthy – man.
All this from a player who had two PGA Tour wins in his career, and no majors. Yeah, it happens this way sometimes. As the ad guy once said: These Guys Are Good, and in any given hot stretch, One Guy Can Be Really Good.
Still, it's been a two-month blitzkrieg nobody saw coming. Stenson identified his swing clicking at the Scottish Open, where he finished tie-3rd behind winner Phil Mickelson. Since then, his tournament finishes:
• British Open: 2nd.
• WGC-Bridgestone: Tie-2nd.
• PGA Championship: 3rd.
• FedExCup Barclays: tie-43rd.
• FedExCup Deutsche Bank: 1st.
• FedExCup BMW: tie-33rd.
• FedExCup Tour Championship: 1st.
Any questions?
And as we learned more about Stenson, we understood his expectations for himself ran pretty high, despite his placid exterior. When he struggled to that tie-33rd at Conway Farms, he snapped the head off a driver in anger. Then, we found out from Golf.com that he also trashed a locker in the clubhouse, too.
Henrik Stenson: golf rock star. His motto might as well be: "Either I play well, or I'm going Keith Moon up in this piece, destroying property."
So if you were the guy who said in January, at your Fantasy Golf draft, while the trade winds of Kapalua buffeted the young lovers Dustin Johnson and Paulina Gretzky (remember that start-of-year gallery buzz? Now our paramours are engaged!), that Stenson was your pick to win the FedExCup then just stop right now. Because nobody said that. Not even Stenson.
Something clicked in the summer of 2013, and it was fairways and greens, ahoy. He called it "an incredible run ... I'm speechless." He also reflected on his two career dips, falling to 230th in the world at one point, and said: "One should never give up. Always keep on trying harder. I managed to come out of some big slumps. Hang in there. Try your best, good things will come your way."
You going to doubt Dr. Feelgood? He's got $11.4 million reasons for you not to.
73-71-69-67 – Even par 280, Tiger Woods, tie-22nd, FedExCup Tour Championship, East Lake Golf Course, Atlanta, Ga.
Like a football player streaking for the end zone only to be caught from behind and tackled at the 1-yard line, Tiger Woods' season-long destiny to win the FedExCup, seemingly inevitable when he logged five wins by early August, ended with the world's No. 1-ranked player as the FedExCup's No. 2-ranked player.
For the master of holding the 54-hole lead, golf's ultimate closer, it's more than a little surprising to see Tiger Woods not bring enough to the East Lake table to lock down the season-long points title. But as we often do here at Lateral Hazard, we return to our theme in life, enunciated in the society-changing film, "Top Secret": "Things change … people change … hairstyles change … interest rates fluctuate … "
And speaking of change, how about Tiger firing an opening-round 73, 29th out of 30 players, to effectively eliminate himself right out of the gate? Very un-Tiger like. Then, on Friday, Tiger admitted fatigue has affected his game. Very un-Tiger like. Then again, enduring a five-plus year span without a major win is very un-Tiger like, too. Back to our theme about hairstyles and interest rates.
Plus, after Sunday's round, when Tiger spoke, he said having his two children greet him after the round reminded him that "there's more to life than putting a little white ball into a gopher hole." Great sentiment, but who kidnapped Tiger Woods?
When Tiger tees it up at Augusta in 2014, he will be 38 years old, a little balder and still the player Jack Nicklaus this past weekend tabbed to top his major championship total record of 18. Either Jack is being magnanimous, or he understands that Tiger has ten more years of great golf, and 40 chances to get five majors. Who's to say Daddy-first, FedExCup-second Tiger isn't that player?
Look at that 20-year-old whiz kid, Jordan Spieth, of Dallas, Texas. Or, as he should be known shortly: "Jordan Sunday". Or, "The Final Round Kid." Or, something that you can think of that is surely better to describe Spieth's fourth-round prowess.
At East Lake, Spieth charged hard with a Sunday 64 to finish tie-2nd, three shots back of Stenson. This, from the same youngster who fired a Sunday 62 at Deutsche Bank for a tie-4th; a Sunday 65 at Greensboro to get into a playoff; and a Sunday 65 at the John Deere to get into a playoff, which he won. Throw in a Sunday 68 at the BMW last week and we have a player not able to legally consume alcohol, but able to legally take on and destroy any and all President's Cup foes at Muirfield next week.
Seriously. If the 2013 golf season is to be remembered, it's to be remembered for: 1) Phil Mickelson's final round at Muirfield; 2) Adam Scott's playoff win at the Masters over a game Angel Cabrera; 3) Jason Dufner's rump slap of his lovely bride after the PGA win; 4) Justin Rose's 4-iron at Merion's 72nd hole; and 5) Jordan Spieth's arrival as the next great American hope, with nine top-10s and top-20 finishes at all four FedExCup playoff events.
Spieth started the year with no status on Tour. Now his status is Big Man on Campus.
When Spieth was making his big move on Stenson and briefly got within one shot, he came to the 17th hole and made bogey. Oh! Heartbreak. The culprit was his second shot, 162 from the fairway that he left in a front bunker, plugged. He couldn't get a good out, and two putted for bogey. End of a dream.
So let's go back out to the 17th fairway, remind Spieth of his amazing 2013 season, remind him of all the fans he's winning over, remind him that hitting a green from 162 ain't no thing to a kid from Texas with all the game in the world, remind him that if he stayed within one of Stenson any kind of drama could break out and … give that kid a mulligan!
"And he's DUFNERING!" – Dan Hicks, NBC, as Keegan Bradley holed out from 170 yards for eagle on Sunday at the Tour Championship, then promptly 'Dufnered' on the fairway.
Ladies and gentlemen, coming to a nightclub near you: Keegan and Duf! Please, tip your servers generously.
Ever since the 2011 PGA Championship at Atlanta Athletic Club, where the rookie Bradley won his first major championship over Dufner in a playoff, the two players have been linked by history. Bradley even turned his car around in Rochester, N.Y. last month to be greenside when Dufner won the 2013 PGA Championship.
They needle each other on Twitter, they hang out, they laugh and they were paired together in the final round at East Lake. So, when Bradley hit a pitch-perfect iron for a '2' on Sunday, his immediate reaction was to sit on the fairway, hands tucked under his thighs, staring straight ahead … Dufnering.
And if you need to know what 'Dufnering' is, you probably haven't read this far in the column.
What a pair: Bradley, the energetic extrovert; Dufner, the laid-back milquetoast. A little yin, a little yang. (No, not Y.E.) Bradley and Dufner had a ball playing together, and have now ended the 2013 season as maybe the Martin/Lewis of the PGA Tour; or the Abbott/Costello of the PGA Tour; or the Smothers Brothers of the PGA Tour. As you can see, most of my comedic duo references are firmly lodged in the 20th century, but that's what you get for reading a 46-year-old suburban Dad for your golf fix.
That's it. The confetti is being swept up, Henrik Stenson is finished destroying lockers and championship fields, Tiger is done missing putts (oh! Cheap shot!) and Rory McIlroy has done the last wasting of his 2013 season (oh! Another cheap shot!).
All that's left is the President's Cup, Oct. 3-6 at Muirfield in Ohio. That'll be our final Lateral Hazard of the year, and please, no emotional outbursts. Otherwise I'll sic Jordan Spieth's golf game on you.


text:
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The Story Teller(1998)
(The fourth book in the Wind River Reservation mystery series)
A novel by Margaret Coel
|"Margaret Coel has done it again! A terrific mystery."
James D Doss
The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act allows Indian tribes to recover sacred artifacts held in museums. Anxious to bring home their treasures, the Arapahos have asked Vicky Holden to handle everything. And to Vicky, it seems to be a routine case. Until the Arapaho storyteller confides that something is missing from the list: a rare and beautiful ledger book, a one-of-a-kind pictorial record and the only eye-witness account of Arapaho history on the plains. The book is worth millions to dealers who razor out pages and sell them one by one. But when the museum says they never even had the book, Vicky suspects foul play. Then she learns that an Arapaho student mysteriously died while researching the ledger. Vicky and Father John must begin a deadly search for the sacred treasure and the killer.
Genre: Mystery
Genre: Mystery
Used availability for Margaret Coel's The Story Teller
See all available used copies of this book at Abebooks UK or Abebooks US
Hardback Editions
April 2005 : USA Hardback
|Title: The Story Teller (Wind River Reservation Mystery)
Author(s): Margaret Coel
ISBN: 1-58547-534-3 / 978-1-58547-534-6 (USA edition)
Publisher: Center Point Large Print
Availability: Amazon Amazon UK Amazon CA
October 1998 : USA Hardback
|Title: The Story Teller (Wind River Reservation Mystery)
Author(s): Margaret Coel
ISBN: 0-425-16538-8 / 978-0-425-16538-6 (USA edition)
Publisher: Berkley Hardcover
Availability: Amazon Amazon UK Amazon CA
Paperback Editions
September 1999 : USA Mass Market Paperback
|Title: The Story Teller (A Wind River Reservation Myste)
Author(s): Margaret Coel
ISBN: 0-425-17025-X / 978-0-425-17025-0 (USA edition)
Publisher: Berkley
Availability: Amazon Amazon UK Amazon CA
Audio Editions
January 2013 : USA Audio CD
|Title: The Story Teller by Margaret Coel (Father O'Malley Mystery Series, Book 4) from Books In Motion.com
Author(s): Margaret Coel
ISBN: 1-59607-185-0 / 978-1-59607-185-8 (USA edition)
Publisher: Books In Motion
Availability: Amazon Amazon CA
April 2008 : USA Audio edition
|Title: The Story Teller: Arapaho Indian Mysteries
Author(s): Margaret Coel
Publisher: Books in Motion
Availability: Amazon
March 1999 : USA Audio Cassette
|Title: The Story Teller
Author(s): Margaret Coel
ISBN: 1-55686-891-X / 978-1-55686-891-7 (USA edition)
Publisher: Books in Motion
Availability: Amazon CA
Kindle Editions
September 1999 : Canada Kindle edition
|Title: The Story Teller (A Wind River Reservation Myste)
Author(s): Margaret Coel
Publisher: Berkley
Availability: Amazon CA
Genre Pages


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text:
Sixteen-year-old Ilina Lebedyeva was last night formally charged with "endangering the life of a foreign dignitary". If found guilty she could spend years in a spartan jail for an incident which lasted seconds.
State security officials in Latvia said she would remain in custody for the next three days - by the end of which the Prince of Wales will have left the country.
A spokesman said: "She has been charged under article 87 of our security act for trying to endanger the health and life of a foreign dignitary. This carries a maximum sentence of up to 15 years in jail."
Ilina launched her protest with a red carnation moments after the Prince had arrived in the Baltic republic. She was bundled away by Latvian security officials. Prince Charles's carried on with his walkabout and his aides dismissed the attack as a "minor incident".
The Prince could intervene and spare her a severe prison sentence. Latvian law allows the "victim" to tell the authorities what they think should happen to their attacker. But today St James's Palace did not say whether he would act.
The teenager from Daugavpils is understood to be a supporter of Latvia's National Bolshevik Party, now popular with many youngsters of Russian descent. The fact that she used a red carnation - a symbol of communism - leads police to suspect she was a stooge.
"We seriously suspect that she was not acting alone and that she was pushed into this for political reasons," said a police source. "We will continue to investigate that.
"There have been a number of cases involving teenagers in Latvia committing acts of hooliganism on behalf of this political group. It is a problem here." Her headmistress, Sylvia Birulina, said: "Ilina comes from a very good family and until recently she was a very modest girl.
"Then something happened to her character and she got misled and mixed up with the Bolsheviks. She has become arrogant and in love with herself."
Today Ilina's father, a respected musician, said he was "deeply shocked". "I did not know where she was. If what they are saying about her is true then it is a shock for me." He has travelled to Riga to see her but would not comment on the possible severity of any sentence against her.
A St James's Palace spokeswoman said: "This is a matter for the Latvian authorities. We would not wish to prejudice any legal proceedings and therefore we are not able to comment at this stage."Reuse content


text:
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Early Bitcoin pioneer Charlie Shrem is pursuing a new venture, a Dash debit card, seeking funding directly from Dash itself.
DigixGlobal and Monolith are set to build a new Visa debit card using Blockchain technology. The card, the first in the world of its type, aims to provide a "comprehensive banking replacement."
Altcoin fans can now use their favorite cryptocurrencies to load a virtual VISA card.
Uber, a US$68 billion transportation network and technology company, launched its signature debit card network in Latin America, in cooperation with fintech bank Bankaool.
Massive security breach puts Indian banking at risk. 3.2 mln debit cards may lose money. It is time to switch to digital currencies.
Prepaid debit cards will be subjected to tightened regulations by October 2017, users can top up their cards using Bitcoin.
Debit card manufacturer Wirex now enables its users to fund their cards with Ethereum, Monero, Litecoin, and 12 more Altcoins.
CoinTelegraph contacted the eight major providers of Bitcoin debit cards with the question: Can Bitcoin debit cards really be private or anonymous?
CoinTelegraph takes a look at six of the market's best Bitcoin debit cards: Bitplastic, Shift, CryptoPay, Wirex, Xapo, and BitPay.
Emercoin partners with Load Debit Card® for mutual benefits and plans many more partnerships for 2016.
Coinbase has launched debit card payments in the US. The debit and credit card payments were already available to Coinbase's European customers.
Wirex Limited announced the release of Wirex. The new app will integrate all the features of E-Coin, the virtual Bitcoin Debit Card, while adding more features.
Bitwala has introduced its new Bitcoin Debit Card in Europe that allows direct payments to be made.
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Could someone explain the details behind the various "network users" that have accessed a particular machine.
I, like another person who posted back in January have questions about the data that is obtained.
Please see attached...
1 Reply
· · ·
Mar 3, 2008 at 5:43 UTC
Hi Dennis,
What is the specific question that you have? I'm not sure I understand what you're asking but I'd like to try and help.