If you are wondering there is a typo in the title, read the pre post here.
Three days off the grid. No signal, no notifications, no pretending to be busy. Just rain, forest, and the hum of life in the Western Ghats.
I was part of the aptly named Creepy Trails Expedition near Sringeri, in the Malenadu region, organised by Forested India. My companions? A group of explorers guided by the brilliant naturalists Dhiraj and Harshita, and most importantly, a 14-year-old I’ve known since the day she was born. To watch her step into this wild classroom without her phone, wide-eyed, unfiltered, and curious, felt like witnessing a luxury that we often miss.
The Overload (in the best way)
The forest is not quiet. It’s overflowing with information. You just need the right guides to tune you in. Between parasite plants feeding on coffee bushes, coffee plants improbably sprouting from a jackfruit tree, shape-shifting butterflies, and lizards that change colour like living mood rings – the overload was real and fascinating.
From the giant Bullfrog to the tiny Dancing frog (which actually waves its legs like it’s signalling from the forest floor), each had its own rhythm. The Malabar Gliding Frog stunned us with its colors, while the Blue-eyed Bush Frog looked straight out of Pixar’s studio.
Seeing the Hump-nosed Pit Viper – my first in the wild – was a quiet thrill. Add to that the elegance of sleeping Vine snakes and the camouflaged power of the Malabar Pit Viper, and you start to respect why these forests hum with an ancient balance.
A Tarantula made an appearance, but it was the delicate Two-horned spider, Lichen’s spider and the Karwar burrowing spider that stayed with me. These are creatures that most of us walk past without knowing they exist.
The Western Ghats Flying Lizard actually glided between trees with a grace that looked like a dare. And then there was the unassuming White-bellied rat, reminding us that even the small and ordinary are part of this complex web.
From the firework-like blooms of Mussaenda frondosa to the Psychotria tree (part of the coffee family, but with its own surprises), and the wild jackfruit (Artocarpus hirsutus, or Bili Hebbalsu in Kannada), the flora told as many stories as the animals.
Roux’s forest lizard, Butterflies, Dragonflies, Zombied Cicadas, Scorpions and Earthball mushrooms as snacks under the starry lights were some of the other highlights that completed the 60-hour no-signal weekend.
Life Without Bars (the signal kind)
With no network for three days, the only soundtrack was cicadas, crickets, and birds. Conversations weren’t delayed by typing dots on a screen. Much to the surprise of Gen Zs, they happened face-to-face, with pauses filled not by scrolling but by the forest itself. “Information gathering” wasn’t AI-driven but through touch, smell, and observation. It felt honest.
Why It Mattered
For me, this wasn’t just a trek. It was a reminder of how easily we forget to listen, how quickly we outsource wonder. To do this alongside two teenagers – to see them absorb, question, and marvel – felt like a kind of vicarious time travel. They were living an experience I never had at their age, and it made me realise how much these moments shape a worldview.
Dhiraj and Harshita deserve every bit of credit. Dhiraj, with his deep ecological knowledge (and a well-earned Disney Conservation Hero award), can turn even a casual stream walk into a masterclass in herpetology. Harshita, with her blend of science, art, and sheer curiosity, has a way of making you notice the unnoticed. Together, they don’t just run expeditions – they curate encounters that stay with you long after the mud has dried on your shoes.
So, what’s the “after”?
I came back with leech bites, damp clothes, and a notebook full of frogs, snakes, spiders, and plants. But more than that, I came back with a renewed sense of how important it is to keep spaces like this alive – and how much joy there is in leaving the digital world behind to enter the one that has always been here.
If you get the chance, go. Go to places like these. Take your kids. Take your inner kid. The Creepy Trails expedition in particular is more than a trip – it’s a reminder that the best network is the one where everything is connected already.
