May 4, 2022
We prepped for the double root bridges the previous night – preparation for the best journey in over 2 years was underway. Bread bought for the sandwiches, juice packets, fruits (bananas, strawberries and the indescribable sohiong). Not only were we departing for the double decker root bridge, we were also packing for an overnight stay in the infamous wettest regions of the world.
Our bags would remain in the car, and we would travel with our individual backpacks where me being the control freak I am prepared for every eventuality – cold, heat, and rains.
Woke up early morning on Wednesday, May 4, 2022 (well early is relative), considering that in Shillong, the sun streams through the windows at 4.30 a.m., had a quick breakfast (prepped for the previous night), and were ready to leave by 6.30 a.m. Bundling ourselves into the car, we drove towards undulating green hills and crisp morning weather towards Cherrapunjee. After several bends and turns, we crossed passed Cherrapunjee to Tyrna (the village from where the trek to the double decker root bridges begins). By 9.00 a.m. we were at Tyrna village (the base from which one treks to the double decker root bridges).
As we disembarked with our backpacks, a group of locals renting thick bamboo sticks for the arduous climb up and down to the double decker root bridges peppered the area. Other than a couple of stalls selling drinks and snacks, thankfully, there were no signs of commercialisation.
It was 9.15 a.m., and deciding to be safe rather than sorry, I decided to rent a bamboo stick (having heard tales about the climb). We walked down steps through small local houses with signs throughout providing for toilet facilities for the princely sum of Rs.10/- and selling local lemon juice. Once we crossed the village, about 15 minutes in, we descended onto a never ending flight of stairs which took us deeper into the forest. Green canopies of trees surrounding us, birds in the distance, uneven stone steps and the silence of the forest took us further in – very soon, we found we were the only persons on the trail. It was getting more and more humid as we walked and I having come clothed for colder weather, decided to take off one layer of clothing. Breathing more freely, we continued to walk ahead. We encountered sweaty faced travellers making the climb back asking us how long further to the entrance – given that this was a 2 hour walk to nongreat village, we were quite surprised to see them so soon. After walking for about 45 minutes, we came to a sign which pointed right to the single decker root bridge where people were talking water breaks.
Deciding to visit this on our way back, we ventured onward beyond this point past a small confluence of villagers’ houses onward. We walked down a steep flight of stairs to the first of many suspension bridges – there was literally enough space for one person to walk at a time, and hanging by steel rails with steel mesh on the side with crisp clear blue water gurgling under it. Not being a huge fan of heights, I looked straight ahead holding on to the sides for support whilst trying not to cut my fingers on the loose metal at the sides and muttering to myself “don’t look down, don’t look down”.
Heaving a sigh of relief as we crossed the bridge, we encountered another never ending flight of stairs pausing to breathe every 10 minutes – the humidity was getting thicker and you could slice it with a knife. 20 minutes in we were at the next bridge – thankfully a little more stable than the earlier one but which swayed dangerously from side to side as we walked on it. You could see the remains of the earlier bridge below, on the right side, which was identical to the earlier one we had just finished. The scenery below was gorgeous and you could spend hours just standing on the bridge listening to the flow of water below.
Walking again off the bridge, you pass yet again another flight of stairs until you reach a small single root bridge passing over a gurgling stream. Stopping for the obligatory picture and a swig of water, we walked ahead, passed another steep flight of stairs and villager’s houses selling drinks and maggi. Several steps later, we saw a sign for a double root bridge next to a large guest house offering rest close to heaven’s delight. Few minutes past the guest house, there is a small ticket booth for entrance charging you Rs.50/- per person, and then you can see the magnificent double decker root bridges.
Roots of the ficus elasta tree have been skilfully manoeuvred to create the bridge, and the roots have grown over time and taken root – nature’s creation with human intervention have left a sight which no other place in the world can boast of. The double root bridges run over each other and bamboo has been placed on the roots (I guess for stable footing considering the number of people crossing over). Beneath the double root bridges two separate pools of water converge separated by stones and created by the waterfall flowing from the top. After the obligatory pictures and having walked over the bridge twice and yelping in delight, it was time to dip our feet in the icy cold water and marvel at this natural wonder. Munching our sandwiches with our feet immersed in the cold water hoping for a fish pedicure from the fish feeding in the pools, we took it all in – the forest in the background, the gurgling waterfall, the people in the water, the way the roots fell into the ground and held up the sturdy bridge.
An hour in we decided to go onwards to the much talked about “Rainbow Falls”, which is supposed to be 1 hour away. Pulling ourselves away from the natural wonder we waited for years to see, we walked past a now empty path onwards. Figuring that the path would lead us there, we walked past dense vegetation and past rocks (making you think you are Indiana Jones) onwards towards another suspension bridge. It felt like my husband and I were the only person on this trail and for a minute, us being urban dwellers, we wondered if we were lost. Hearing noise in the trees and expecting an animal, we chanced upon a villager and asked him if we were on the correct route. Feeling safer now, we crossed the suspension bridge to lead us to a single root bridge which seemed to lead into nowhere – this literally had no bamboos at the base but pure roots which we needed to balance on to reach to the other side. A little worried we were off course, we decided to wait to see if anyone else showed up – 15 minutes later there were footsteps, a boy, his father and a guide – we were overjoyed (we could now go ahead), and if any of us fell/ got injured, we would have help. The root bridge did in fact lead somewhere – we crawled on our fours to reach the end and were greeted by a cold water gurgling stream coming from an unseen waterfall.
From here onward the path took on a lift of its own and it was an upward climb. Boulders strewn on top of each other hazhardly coupled with the occasional carved out steps we delved into the heart of the forest – the climb was arduous and the humidity was increasing by the minute. We thought we would exhaust our water supplies by the time we reached the elusive “Rainbow falls”. Except for 5 of us, well 4 of us (the guide would disappear ahead and not be seen for ages at a time), as we trundled our way upwards, the path was bereft of people. In the distance, you could hear a waterfall, and with the sound of leaves underfoot, our heavy breathing, and the sounds of nature, we made our way onward with occasional rest breaks for water – 2 years of being locked at home during a pandemic will do that to you.
Just when I thought I couldn’t go anymore, the guide would say just 15 minutes ahead – streams dotted the landscape, and making our way across slippery rocks, I prayed that my weak ankle would not give way. The view and the trek was positively gorgeous – though arduous I must admit, given my lack of exercise the 2 years before, and given the 3000 steps we had already climbed to reach the double decker root bridges. After a near slip, and 1.45 minutes later, we arrived at a steep flight of steps to climb down to the elusive “Rainbow Falls”, where (blame commercialisation), there was a hut selling refreshments and maggi, and about 8 people sitting and catching their breath.
The entrance to the falls had been barricaded off given that some unfortunate incident had occurred a month back, but the view was lovely. We hoped for a rainbow (which gives the falls their name), but it seemed unlikely. Hot maggi and several bottles of water and ORSL packets later, we were ready to make the journey back. It was now around 2 p.m. and we needed to make sure we were back at tyrna village by 5 p.m. or before it started raining, whichever happened earlier.
Stopping for numerous rest breaks along the way, we made our way back to the double root bridges. Socks and shoes off, with the double root bridges completely empty, most people having made their way back to Tyrna village after the bridges, we enjoyed the peace and solitude, and our tired feet loved the refreshing ice water massage.
20 minutes later, worrying about the impending rain and climbing the 3000 stairs in darkness, we set back up. This time it was more upward climbing than downward climbing. Exhausted from the trek to rainbow falls, each step felt like we were climbing mount Everest and it took all our effort and constant reminders that we would be stuck in the darkness to push ourself forward. Even the suspension bridges did not evoke as much fear as being left to finish this in the dark with no light around and the sounds of the forest slowly settling down for the evening egged me on (remember, this is north east, so the sun starts to set around 5-5.30 ish). As we moved ahead, we noticed people walking two steps and panting for breath, people asking guides how much, and the guides walking around and chewing tobacco like this was a leisurely walk in the park. Stopping for a toilet break along the way, we reached the last 1500 steps to climb upwards, and midway through the climb, my husband’s hamstrings started cramping and I was too tired to move an inch. With innumerable rest stops along the way and stretching our tired limbs, we finally made it to the top.
Crazy enough to try and do rainbow falls with double decker bridges, the crazy set of people we were, I still vowed to do this again and this time, possibly stay overnight in the village. After the nerve wracking, anxiety filled 2 years I had, I am exuberantly happy and overjoyed that I did this, and it was honestly one of the best experiences of my life.
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Chronicles of an overthinker 