Nestled in the Western Ghats, the Kavaledurga fort

The road winds through patches of forest as we leave the quaint town of Thirthahalli, nestled amidst the Western Ghats.

It is early monsoon and the forest air carries the scent of the wet trees while the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds. 

Driving from Thirthahalli, we go past lakes carpeted with blooming lotuses and green fields to land at the base of a foothill, to view the once formidable fort of Kavaledurga. 

Built in the 9th century, this fort was the stronghold of the Keladi kings, including Venkatappa Nayaka. The Keladi Nayakas ruled from Karwar to present-day Kerala along the West coast and Chikkanayakanahalli in the east.

The way to the top of the hill was slippery but held promises of sights and sounds of yore. The fort walls peeped through undulating hills but were hidden from land contours. The hill would have been a vantage point that many rulers used to their advantage.

Five gateways

As the path rises, one could find the first of the five gateways that have two round bastions as guards and huge walls of enormous stone blocks. The path leads to a second gate that has a few carved structures and crumbling quarters that appear to have housed guards.

As one climbs higher, a water tank, called the Nagi Kund, is visible. At the fourth gate, there was Kashi Vishwanath Temple and the ruins of a palace. Here, foundations of rooms, ante-rooms, courtyards, and a vast central hall hint at the grandeur of a once-bustling royal dwelling. 

On careful observation, we could visualise the palace kitchen, which still has a few remains of the stones used to crush and grind, and a stove. 

A couple of lofty pillars stare at the excavated region that has brought plinths and columns and broken artefacts out into the open. The temple displays carvings of the sun, moon, armed warriors and elephants, even the three-headed birds as seen in several structures of Keladi architecture. 

Temple perched on rock

As we leave the palace and move on through the thick jungle, the Lakshminarayana temple emerges perched on a massive rock and stepped wells. 

Heavy overgrowth covers much of the ruins and as one passes beyond the palace area, the path narrows further, leading to the summit. This path seems to have lost to the travails of time and the ever-thickening vegetation. It seems just like a picture out of an adventure movie with overgrown creepers, moss-dangling ancient walls, gates and bastions. 

At the summit awaited a breathtaking, almost unreal view. As we reached the top with the sun settling down in the west, nature played the role of the painter and spilled colours of mauve, pink and crimson in varying shades set to glimmering waters of the Varahi Dam. On the opposite side to the east was a trail of hills till the eye could see.

Climbing Kavaledurga was more than a trek; it was a walk through power, faith and forgotten grandeur.

Entwined with vines and kissed by the clouds, this fort stands as a living reminder of history’s dialogue with time; one that beckons you to return again and again.

A gateway to Kavaledurga fort.