Many moons ago a little lad looked across the wide expanse of Kodai lake - and along the road that snaked around it - and said "Daddy, I am tired. Do we have to walk so far?"
We were on our annual holiday trip down to Kodaikanal - it was the late 1970s - and instead of just hanging around on the lake, and eating picnic lunches in punts - my parents insisted that we go on hikes.
Each day the hikes became a bit longer. The end of Kodai lake. Cokers walk. Leving stream. Then some of the Sholas (narrow rainforests found in the valleys of the Palani hills). Then overnight hikes to the trout streams and camping at Berijam lake. My parents love for the outdoors was translated into amazing experiences for us as a family.
The memories still stand out sharply in my mind. The coolness of the cheese factory. The large tree outside the Swedish school. The ornithology section of the natural history museum at a Catholic Seminary. The sound of a 'whistling schoolboy' warbling in a shola forest. Getting drenched and making tea in a small cave. Hopping from rock to rock along a river bed. Many picnics. The greeness of the Palani grasslands. The wetness of fern-like heathers. Bedding down in tents and eating hot-foil-covered-coal-baked-potatoes.
Looking back on the miniature version of me - way back there in the 1970s I do remember grumbled about the walking - especially during the actual hikes. But am I ever grateful to our parents for giving us such a precious legacy of memories.
So no surprise that one of the biggest kicks that we get is to be able to replicate the hiking bug in a small way with our next gen Eichers. And the icing on the cake is that we are able to do this while still being with the originals - now called Oma and Opa!
CS Lewis wrote that:
A pleasure is only full grown when it is remembered (Out of the Silent Planet). Here is a fully-grown pleasure - an amazing day that we spent during our holiday with Mum and Dad in Mussoorie in May this year.
Every journey starts with a single step. Our hike to the 'Pepper Pot Cave' began with us setting off early in the morning. Here Opa takes Enoch and Joanna (their cousin) up the hill past Jabbarkhet. I remember running this monster of a hill during school days cross country runs - it was so much more pleasant to walk up it with our kids!
The advantage of not going too far off the beaten track is that chai is always close at hand.
The Eichers are suckers for chai - while the younger lot enjoy wildly-synthetic tasting 'snacks' found in puffed up shiny packets (the change in altitude makes them like little pillows). I always wondered where all the styrofoam in the world goes. Now we know.
The view from the chai dukhan is not only natural beauty. We also have views of the most amazing fellow humans. I could have spent a good half-day just watching these two mountain men taking in the morning sun.
But further ranges called. So out of the chai dukhan (2nd JB of course) and off onto the Tehri Road again. We were treated with a sheer drop down the side and the marvellous views of forest and village. Only in the 'foothills' of the Himalaya...
A big draw for the younger Eichers was the view of something much closer to the view that stunning Himalayan pastoral landscapes - as we walked along we saw that the yellow raspberries were ripe. Yours truly was called upon to clamber up the side of the hill and extract these beauties from their prickly prisons.
But that joy of the slim pickings that I was able to glean was overshadowed by something even better.
Blackberries. No we are not talking about mobile communication devices. Real honest-to-goodness black raspberries. Usually perilously high up the hill side. But Daddy's climbing skills were again called upon by the hungry hordes. And the evidence was clearly seen on the tongues of our delighted berry eaters!
I don't remember these berries in my day - but their black sweetness was a real treat to young and old.
Speaking of young and old - here are yours trully ahead of the pack with Enoch and the girls holding Oma and Opa's hands. The joy of walking is heightend by the talking. There really is hardly anything better than to walk under the cobalt blue sky with people you love...
The perfect day? Throw in a small climb up the ridge from the road. With the requesit stops along the way to rest and see the view. More water and arti-snacks consumed of course. Binoculars out to look at birds and hazy attempts made to lock in on what species the beauties may be.
True to form, Enoch relishes being 'in front.' It brought back one of my first memories of a hike with Mum and Dad - going up 'Duke's Nose' in Khandala - at which time a stray dog adopted us and joined us for the hike - with us giving him the name 'Leader' because he loves running ahead of us.
We had left the Tehri road at 'Seven Sisters' (of the 7 original trees only 3 small scraggly apologies of trees remain) and gone up the ridge. In earlier days we would have walked the entire way along the ridge - but a large tract of the land is now fenced-off as private property - with very unwelcoming signs calling anyone who hikes there as tresspassers. So it was along the public road we walked until we could go up on public land. Jai Hind!
The small climb to the ridge took us into a delightful tract of deodar trees. And then, sooner than we knew it, we had reached our destination! There is a small cave at the gap in the ridge where a path goes down to the villages below. We call it 'Pepper Pot Cave" because you can see the hill beautifully from there - and almost reach out and touch it - it seems that close.
The deodar woods up on the ridge are ideal for families. Elders can lie down for a nap. Little ones can play 'house, house.' The in-betweens can build a fire and heat up the chappatis and alu bhaji! Nothing like eating in the open air with hot chappus and alus and cucumbers!
Then it is time for chai of course! Flavoured with the smoke of deodar wood! Exquisite.
The book was brought out - what else could we be reading but
The Hobbit and all settled down to listen (and snooze).
Post lying down there was time to climb a tree (yours trully again) while others dispersed across the landscape.
And what a view there was. The place was so quiet - other than the occasional wandering cow who quietly announced is present by its bell - we did not meet another soul.
The beauty of the blue sky was bisected by a Lammergeyer. The breadth of that wingspan was awe-inspiring. Our bird-book said it could be up to 9 feet. You can believe it when you see these magnificent creatures swoop by.
For us city-folks - with our constant whirr and buzz and rumble that is the back-drop of our lives, to be in place of such quiet and stillness is an out-of-this-world experience. Up there on that mountain we had the wind to charm us and the sun to kiss us. It was a mercifully non-hailing day (we had a number of those during our Mussoorie sojourn). Instead, all we had was the spectacular vistas opening up below us.
Dad had not been feeling well for a good portion of our time in Musoorie - but on this perfect day he was with us in force. My mind's eye goes back to the many times he carried our little protesting bodies when we felt that we had walked far enough. The reservoir of patience that he had....
Our twosome (made a happy threesome by the addition of their cousin Joanna) provided us with little challenge by way of complaining. Asha and Enoch were such a joy to walk with - and the long walk back - which had to start far too early of course - was just as fun as the walk out.
On the way up the hill to Landour I was asked to tell Enoch every kind of dog that I knew. Cocker Spaniel, German Shepherd, Pekinese, Boxer... the names came till they dried up - and the footsteps took us closer to home at Shanti Kunj.
One of the most touching things I saw was the sight of Mum and Dad walking ahead of us at one point on the way back.
The picture captures to me there long and good walk together as a couple. As parents they have been such an amazing example to us. Their generosity of spirit, their courageous living out of their faith, their deep love for each other - and their willingness to forgive and esteem each other before us have imprinted a deep pattern of desire to be like them in our own family relationships.
Mum and Dad have walked their years on this earth hand in hand. We hope to live out this legacy for our own kids too.
Each journey does have an end.
Our perfect day did come to an end.
After a wonderful day of walking - what better place to come to than Shanti Kunj!
And so to end with our dear friend Tolkein. We have not cracked "The Lord of the Rings" as a family yet. That will have its time (and I think it will be sooner rather than later), but for this perfect day, here is his little gem of a poem:
"The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say" —
J.R.R. Tolkien (
The Fellowship of the Ring)
Protests in Mumbai regarding the above image, led to the Times of India apology which appeared in today's front page, saying - 
self-portrait that the German painter Albrecht Durer made of himself in 1500 when he was 28 years old.
Getting back to Jesus (what a relief) - if we do want to draw an image of him - how about something more along these lines.
