Lohagad

Listen to the wind first. Up here, it comes across the ridge in long, steady pushes. It carries the smell of wet grass in the rainy months and warm dust in the dry ones. Under your feet, the old stone steps are worn smooth and slightly uneven. Each one was cut by hand and polished by centuries of passing feet. Around you, the hills of the Sahyadri range fall away in green and brown folds. Welcome to Lohagad.

The name means "iron fort." Once you climb it, the name makes sense. This is a hill fort built on a block of dark volcanic rock in the Western Ghats. The Western Ghats are the long mountain chain that runs down the western edge of India. The fort sits well over a thousand metres above sea level. From its walls, the people who held it could watch the routes between the Deccan plateau and the coast.

That view was the whole point. For centuries, traders, armies and pilgrims moved through these hills, between the inland plateau and the ports on the Arabian Sea. Whoever controlled the high ground could see them coming. Many powers held this rock in turn. The list usually includes old regional dynasties, then the Deccan sultanates, then the Mughals and the Marathas. The walls you see today mostly date from the later centuries of that long story.

The chapter most visitors know best belongs to Shivaji. He founded the Maratha kingdom in the seventeenth century. His forces took Lohagad in the 1640s. Then, in 1665, he signed the Treaty of Purandar with the Mughal Empire. Under that agreement, he handed over a number of his forts, and Lohagad was one of them. A few years later, the Marathas took it back. Forts in this region changed hands like this again and again.

There is a popular story that you will hear from guides and trekkers. It says that Shivaji stored treasure here after his famous raid on the port of Surat. It is a good tale, and it fits the fort's reputation as a safe stronghold. But treat it as tradition rather than proven fact. What is certain is simpler. A fort this hard to reach made a strong place to keep valuables, prisoners and supplies.

Now, look at the gates as you climb. Lohagad has a series of them, one after another, along a winding path. They are traditionally named for Ganesh, Narayan and Hanuman, and the last is the Great Gate. The route turns sharply between them. That was deliberate. An attacking force could not charge straight up. Soldiers had to bunch together on narrow steps, under the eyes of defenders on the walls above.

Notice how the gateways fit into the rock itself. In places, the builders cut directly into the cliff. In others, they stacked fitted blocks of basalt, the dark volcanic stone of these hills. The walls follow the natural edge of the plateau. In this way, the mountain becomes part of the fortification. From a distance, it can be hard to tell where nature ends and masonry begins.

In the eighteenth century, the fort entered a quieter phase of its life. Nana Phadnavis was a powerful minister of the Maratha state, and he is closely linked with Lohagad. He is said to have stayed here for a time. Building work from this period is usually connected with him, including water structures on the summit. Water decided whether a hill fort could survive a siege, so this was not a small detail.

On the summit plateau, look for the tanks and cisterns cut into the rock. One large stepped tank is a highlight for many visitors. Rainwater collected in these basins during the monsoon and lasted through the dry months. Without them, no garrison could hold out for long. Here is something many people miss. The quarrying for these tanks often supplied the stone for the walls. One job served two purposes.

Now, walk toward the western end of the fort. Here, a long, thin spur of rock runs out from the main plateau. It is called Vinchu Kata, which means "scorpion's tail." From above, it does look like the curled tail of a scorpion. The spur gave defenders a lookout over the valley below. Today, it gives walkers one of the widest views on the whole hill. Please keep well back from the edges, especially when the rock is wet.

Look across to the neighbouring hill. That is Visapur, Lohagad's larger twin fort. The two are often described as a pair, guarding the same stretch of hills. On a clear day, you can trace its walls along the ridge. On a monsoon day, it may vanish completely behind a curtain of cloud, and then appear again a minute later. Watching the weather move between the two forts is part of the experience here.

The monsoon changes everything on this hill. From roughly June to September, heavy rain turns the slopes a deep, bright green. Small waterfalls appear on the cliffs, and fog fills the gateways. Crowds of trekkers come from Pune and Mumbai at weekends. The steps become slippery, and the wind can be strong. In the cooler months after the rains, the paths are drier and the air is often clearer for long views.

One more surprise lies close by. Not far from the base of the fort are the Bhaja Caves, and the Bedse Caves lie a little farther away. Both are groups of Buddhist monuments cut into the rock. They are far older than the fort walls, and they date back more than two thousand years. Monks and travellers used these same hill routes long before any Maratha soldier stood guard. Lohagad is only one layer in a very old landscape.

Before you leave, stand still for a moment. Feel the stone under your hand, warm or cold, rough or wet. Listen to the wind, the voices of other walkers, and perhaps a bird calling from the slope below. People have stood on this rock for centuries, watching the same valleys. As you go back down through the gates, count the turns. Each one was built to slow an enemy. Today, they simply invite you to slow down too.