Conquering the Mighty Monolith: My Savandurga Trek Adventure

It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings when your heart wants to break free from the concrete jungle and just breathe. While sipping my coffee and scrolling aimlessly through my phone, a friend called and asked, “Up for a trek?” Without giving it a second thought, I said yes. That’s how our spontaneous plan to trek Savandurga was born. Located about 60 kilometers from Bangalore, Savandurga is known as one of the largest monolith hills in Asia. I had heard tales about its steep slopes and panoramic views, but experiencing it first-hand? That was going to be something else.

We packed some water bottles, energy bars, and of course, our sense of adventure. The ride from Bangalore was breezy and scenic, passing through small towns, fields, and stretches of open sky. The excitement built with every passing mile as the monolithic rock started appearing in the distance—majestic, wild, and slightly intimidating.

First Glimpse of the Giant: The Trek Begins

The moment we reached the base of Savandurga, I was awestruck. The hill stood like a silent sentinel, its smooth granite surface catching the morning light. With two main trails—Karigudda (the black hill) and Biligudda (the white hill)—most trekkers choose Biligudda because it's safer and better marked. Naturally, we followed that path.

The first few meters felt like a breeze. The path was wide and well-trodden. But the hill wasted no time in reminding us of its difficulty. The slope got steeper, and at times, I felt like I was climbing a wall rather than walking a trail. My shoes gripped tightly to the rock surface, and every step had to be taken with caution. There were no ropes or railings—just us and the rock, which made the experience feel raw and primal.

The sun began to climb as we did, and sweat soon drenched our backs. We paused often—not just to catch our breath but to turn around and marvel at the growing view. From up there, the world below started shrinking. Farmlands, roads, and even distant villages looked like dots on a canvas. The wind was cooler, and despite the challenge, my heart felt light.

Encounters with Nature and Moments of Stillness

What I didn’t expect was how deeply connected to nature I’d feel on this trek. There wasn’t much shade, but the few trees and shrubs that grew out of cracks in the rock were incredibly resilient. We even spotted a few birds circling above, possibly looking for their own adventures.

Somewhere mid-way, we stopped at a relatively flat spot. There was silence—not the awkward, forced kind, but the peaceful, meditative kind that only nature can offer. We sat there, sipping water, munching on peanuts, and soaking in the sounds of chirping, rustling leaves, and the occasional gust of wind. In that moment, everything—every worry, every deadline—melted away.

The Final Stretch: Testing My Grit

They say the last mile is always the hardest. For Savandurga, this couldn’t be more accurate. The final stretch to the summit was intense. The incline was so steep that I had to use both my hands and feet to keep moving. There were patches where I had to pause and strategize before attempting the next few steps.

But the view kept calling me forward.

When we finally reached the top, it felt surreal. At the summit stood a small Nandi idol, silently watching over the valley. We stood there, catching our breath, laughing, and letting the wind dry our sweat. The view was unbelievable—rolling hills, thick forests, lakes shimmering in the distance. The vastness made me feel small in the best way possible.

We lay down on the warm rock, arms spread wide, eyes to the sky. There’s a kind of joy that only reaching the top can bring—the kind born from effort, challenge, and that sweet taste of accomplishment.

The Descent and a Quiet Goodbye

Coming down was tricky in its own right. We had to be careful with every step, leaning backward slightly to maintain balance. A few slips here and there added to the thrill, but nothing serious. It was like the hill was gently reminding us not to take her for granted.

As we neared the base again, I felt a quiet sadness. Something about reaching the end of a good trek always leaves me nostalgic. The trees seemed to wave us off, and the rocks we had once scrambled over looked different—almost like old friends we were leaving behind.

We drove back in a comfortable silence, tired but glowing. The city felt louder, faster, and strangely distant after the tranquility of Savandurga.

A Memory Etched in Stone

Looking back, the Savandurga trek was more than just a physical adventure—it was a soul cleanser. It reminded me that sometimes, all you need is a hill, some good friends, and a few hours away from your phone to feel alive again. Every scratch, every sore muscle the next day felt like a badge of honor.

If you're in Bangalore or anywhere nearby, don’t overthink it. Just go. Let Savandurga challenge you, inspire you, and maybe even change you a little. Because some treks stay with you long after the climb is over—and this one, for me, definitely will.