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Kothagiri
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Sad to Leave, Grateful to Have Been—The Final Turn Begins
Tracing back our route to Munnar, we took a different road from the town towards Marayoor, famous for its jaggery. This stretch is interspersed with tea plantations and waterfalls. The monsoon brought many interim falls, flowing through the estates and rocks of the mountains on the roadside. The heavily guarded sandalwood forests of Marayoor are well-known, though not something to see or smell. Ten kilometres past Marayoor lies the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary, home to the Thoovanam waterfalls. I caught a glimpse of the falls from the road, which we had trekked to during our 2011 trip. Passing the sandalwood forests, we reached the other side: the Anamalai Tiger Reserve in Tamil Nadu. This entire stretch is a rider's delight, with incredible curves on smooth tarmac—gliding through them was pure pleasure.
It drizzled almost the entire way until Marayoor, and no sooner had we reached the plains than our clothes dried, thanks to the heat. After crossing the Tiger Reserve, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant serving typical Tamil vegetarian meals. A hot cup of filter coffee later, we covered the long, monotonous kilometres across the plains as quickly as possible. Crossing Udumalpet and cutting across NH544 past Avinashi, we rode towards Annur and reached Mettupalayam. The ascent to Ooty, Coonoor, and Kothagiri begins from here.
Thoovanam Waterfalls; Picture from 2011 trip
The road to Kothagiri from Mettupalayam is fantastic, just a few hairpins, but mostly winding curves. Riding through them in light traffic was a delight. The cool mountain air welcomed us after the hot, humid plains. We arrived at our stay, located just two kilometres from Catherine Falls. It was a peaceful location, far from the hubbub of Kothagiri town. The genial caretaker couple took excellent care of us. We had the whole house to ourselves and settled in for the night.
A short walk to stretch our legs after a long day's ride turned unexpectedly adventurous when a local man informed us that black panthers roam the area after dark. With that knowledge, the uphill walk felt less daunting. We put our cardio to the test. Over dinner, prepared lovingly by the caretaker couple, we let the memories of the ride unfold between bites and laughter. It was hard to believe the ten-day journey was nearing its end.
We hit the road early, rode through Bannari, climbed the 27 hairpins of Dimbam, crossed the forest stretch and reached Chamarajanagar before noon. There, I split from the group and headed home towards Mysore, while the others continued on towards Kollegala and Bangalore.
I rode into the mountains with a couple of strangers, engines humming in unison, hearts still finding rhythm. The winding roads carved stories into our souls: of mist-laced mornings, shared laughter over roadside chai. Somewhere between the hairpin bends and high-altitude halts, camaraderie bloomed. The ride gave us more than views and thrills; it gave us stories, inside jokes, and memories we’ll carry long after the engines cooled. By journey’s end, we weren’t just a group, we were a mosaic of memories, bound by the road and the roar.
Writing this travelogue gave me the chance to revisit all those cherished moments. It felt like doing the trip all over again. The ride ends, but the story lingers, humming softly in the heart like a well-loved tune.