The mystique of Aneimudi, the Everest of the South

Aneimudi, the highest peak south of the Himalayas, offers breathtaking views and a challenging climb through mist-shrouded wilderness, writes George Netto

George Netto

Few visitors to Munnar fail to notice the towering, mist-capped mountain that looms like a colossus behind the hill resort. However, not all are aware that this is Aneimudi, an 8,841-foot giant regarded as the highest peak in South India, south of the Himalayas — a distinction that has been officially and unquestionably established for many years. Known as “the Everest of the South,” Aneimudi’s close contender is the Dodabetta Peak in Ootacamund.

The name “Aneimudi” is derived from the Tamil words for “elephant’s brow,” which aptly describes the shape of its summit. The peak is often shrouded in mist — a feature that enhances its mystique, sparking imaginations about the secrets it may be hiding.

In earlier centuries, before modern navigational aids were available, Aneimudi was used as a reliable landmark for ships approaching the Kochi port. On clear, sunny days, the Arabian Sea can be seen shimmering in the distance, some 80 kilometres away as the crow flies.

Aneimudi has long had historical ties with Munnar’s flourishing tea plantations. In the shadow of the peak, tea estates have thrived for over 148 years, ever since British pioneer A Y Sharpe planted the first tea saplings in Munnar in 1876.

In 1978, Tata Finlay Limited, then a leading tea producer, celebrated the centenary of their tea estates by sending a group of young tea planters to ascend Aneimudi. To mark the occasion, they lit a massive bonfire atop the peak, visible for miles across the tea districts. This flaming beacon would surely have warmed the hearts of Munnar’s pioneering tea planters.

Interestingly, in the 1940s, two British mountaineers, renowned for their Everest expeditions, climbed Aneimudi while visiting Munnar. For seasoned climbers like them, the ascent would have been a walk in the park. However, for novices, the climb can be gruelling. In the mid-1980s, the Idukki District Mountaineering Association, headquartered in Munnar, brought a Sherpa from Darjeeling’s Himalayan Mountaineering Institute to train aspiring climbers on the lower slopes of Aneimudi. The climb from the base to the summit takes at least three hours. The initial ascent is gradual, winding through expansive grasslands. As you near the peak, however, the incline becomes nearly vertical, and climbers must crawl up on all fours, gripping the grass for dear life, praying it won’t give way and send them tumbling hundreds of feet. Reaching the top, surrounded by dense fog that reduces visibility to near zero, is an eerie experience. It’s easy to imagine walking off the edge if you’re not careful, as we learned in 1978.

Our ascent was interrupted by a frightening moment when someone in our group cried, “Karadi! Karadi!” (meaning bear). One of us had spotted what appeared to be a bear climbing ahead of us in the thick fog. Panic gripped us, but moments later, the mist cleared to reveal our guide — a robust figure, scrambling up the slope like a bear himself! Climbers often encounter wildlife on their journey, as Aneimudi lies within the sprawling 97 square-kilometre Eravikulam National Park. This park shelters endangered species, such as elephants, Nilgiri tahr, tigers, leopards, sloth bears, gaur, sambars, and barking deer. As such, climbing Aneimudi requires clearance from the Kerala Forest Department.

Back in 1978, during our climb, we flashed mirrors from the summit to signal our success to friends below in Munnar, who acknowledged with signals of their own. As if in reward for our perseverance, the fog lifted briefly, unveiling a breathtaking 360-degree view.

The vista from the peak was nothing short of stupendous. Towering mountain ranges surrounded us, and far below, we saw the Munnar-Coimbatore road, with tiny vehicles crawling along it. Munnar town shimmered in the distance, and we could see the plains of Tamil Nadu, the Anamallai hills, tea factories, Thekaddy and Peermade, and even the plains of Coimbatore. Aneimudi truly lives up to its name, never failing to reward those who venture to climb it.

In April 1997, I flew over Aneimudi in a helicopter during a reconnaissance trip for Ratan Tata’s aerial survey of his company’s tea plantations in Munnar. The view from the chopper was awe-inspiring. I could even spot landmarks from my earlier laborious climb to the summit. It’s also on record that on March 11, 1972, a group of adventurers from Munnar became the first to camp overnight on Aneimudi’s summit, braving icy winds and wildlife threats. They returned safely the next day, their tales as grand as the peak itself.