Day 1 (14th June) :

As soon as I woke up, I knew I had missed the bus! I was to reach Karanprayag as soon as possible, and seeing the clock say 6:30am meant I had missed more than just the first bus for my destination. I hurriedly stuffed my bags with all my belongings, hastily leaving behind my monkey cap, jacket and sleeping mat, mistakes I'd repent later. I just about made it in time for the bus leaving for Rudraprayag at 7:30am.

For some reason quite unknown to me, buses in India are just not designed for people above 5'6"! As the bus rattled its way past Byasi, Teendhara, Devprayag, and Srinagar, the journey began appearing more and more arduos, the end never appearing to be anywhere near. After doing the customary switch of bus at Rudraprayag, the bus finally rolled into Karanprayag at a half past four.

A very impatient Umedh Singh and Kalyan Singh stood waiting for me at the bus stand. The last bus for Wan had left just twenty minutes ago, and there was no bus till the morning on the following day. We decided to go as far as we can in the general direction of Wan

The furthest we could get that day was a small town called Tharali. Like a lot of young towns in this region, Tharali has grown around a bustling road that passed through the town. The evening was spent walking around, washing up in the river Pindhar (see pic), going provision shopping, finding the cheapest hotel to spend the night, and eating dinner cooked by an extremely drunk hotel-owner.


Day 2 (15th June):

The deceptively bright morning sunlight woke me up. I peered through my sleepy eyes at the windows, like a dam, bursting at its seams as it held back nature's most effective wake up call. My guides were pretty oblivious to this, and were fast asleep in their sleeping bags. I groped around my pillow, searching for my phone that had made a habit of hiding itself. A half past six it said, hardly making an effort to be visible through the scratched glass. Too early, I told myself, and went back to sleep, pulling the sleeping bag over my head.

When I woke up next, I saw an energetic Umedh-da proudly looking around at all the bags that he had packed. What was a bunch of bags strewn all across the room had fit into less than half a haversack! All that was left was my sleeping bag. "Saab, 7:30 ho gaya, chaai peeyo" he told me, gesturing to a cup of tea, that was well past its steamy prime!

Umedh-da refuses to travel anything but the cheapest means of transport. His mind is always performing various calculations, performing least-cost approximations with parameters such as food costs at different towns, cost of transport, distance from Wan, and cost of accomodation! We decided to make it to Wan, four hours away, and start walking today itself, pushing ourselves as far into the mountains as possible. And after the customary haggling with the jeep drivers, we arrived at Devaal, in a little over an hour. The jeeps for the next leg of the journey were waiting, like vultures, eyeing us, and before we knew what was happening, an over enthusaistic driver had our luggage loaded onto his jeep, and we set out to Lohajang, in a jeep full of people of all kinds! I could smell the trek, the scent umistakable, and finally, the trek I was awaiting for the last twelve months was finally going to begin!

Or so I thought, but fate had other plans! Less than a couple of kilometers into the journey, the tyre under me gave out a little grunt. As the jeep veered to a halt on the side of the road, all of us realized we had a flat! The driver didn't appear the least bothered, making a quick switch of tyres, and before we knew it, we were back on the road again. The weather was cooling down, and although my guide had warned me the peril the rain carried, I was secretly hoping the rain would cool the hills. Well, rain or no rain, the trek I was awaiting for the last twelve months was finally going to begin!

Or so I thought! A little further, and the wheel gave out the feared grunt. This time, the driver's steps lacked the same confidence, the flat stepney still fresh in all our minds. The tyre, ravaged by the uncouth gravel on the roads, lay collapsed on the road, its present form barely resembling the tyre that had given us so much hope a kilometer ago. We peered in the direction the road disappeared behind the hills, hoping for a car to save us. And, the hills did not let us down. In less than thirty minutes, a puff of dust in the distance was greeted by great enthusiasm by the stranded passengers. Soon enough, the jeep rolled to a stop, and two minutes of rapid Garwali later, we were off again! No puncture is going to hold us back, I thought to myself, knowing that the trek I was awaiting for the last twelve months was finally going to begin!

Or so I thought! Another two kilometers later, the tyre gave its familiar grunt, and all of us, trained by the two experiences, got off the jeep, that rolled to a stop. The ravaged form of the tyre was familiar, giving us the most unpleasant sense of deja vu! After everyone gave their theories as to why we had three punctures in quick succession, all eyes fell back onto the road that would around the hills, awaiting a stepney-wielding saviour, who'd set us back on track to our destination. Unfortunately, this time, there was none to save us.

Puncture No. 1	Puncture No. 2	Puncture No. 3

As the minutes rolled into hours, and various conspiracy theories cropping up about why no one was coming to help us, I chose to photograph what I saw around. A particular lizard caught my attention, and I set about giving it the attention that even a model would crave. By the time our messiah did come, it had been five hours wasted, sitting by the road, looking earnestly at the horizon. It was not like the road had not been traveled at all over the last five hours, but this was the first jeep (whose tyre was of the same size) that had come our way. As the jeep slowed down, all of us began eyeing its tyres, like a pack of hyenas awaiting their scavenged meal. After the burst of Garwali, that I was getting used to not understanding, the stepney quickly changed hands, and finally, we were off again!

The river Pindhar	Unsuspecting Lizard	Suspecting Lizard

The slight drizzle of rain had cooled down the place, and this time, I chose not to think of my trek that was about to begin. The trick worked, and the rest of the journey was quite uneventful. The driver, whose mood had suddenly been improved by his jeep being able to move again, decided to force upon us his beloved collection of local songs. Well, although skeptical at first, the songs were quite fun, and the hardships of the morning had broken the ice, and we all reached Lohaganj.

Having reached late in the evening meant all vehicles going to Wan had left. The last vehicle was about to leave, and seeing us desperate to reach Wan, his cunning charged us an extra hundred bucks for the short journey ahead. Quickly calculating the costs, and considering that a room in Lohaganj would cost two hundred more in the long run, Umedh-da decided it was best if we paid the man the extra money, and set off to Wan. There was only one place in the jeep, and me, Umedh-da and Kalyan-da took turns sitting, while the other two hung on for our dear lives. We finally reached Wan around dusk, and made our way to a small dormitory in the center of the village.


Day 3 (16th June) :

My stomach was screaming it was not right. The previous day's heavy potato-laden dinner had left my stomach second best in the battle for gastric supremacy. And, it was not till I had climbed up to Rann ka dhaar that my stomach began accepting that cramp as it might, I was not aborting this trek. The walk to the ridge (dhaar) was through the village. The initial bit always seems the most tiring to me, as one has to shed all the comforts one is used to and get used to pushing yourself up the slope. The calm and cool mountain air was refreshing, although the steep slope had me out of breath before I knew it. Superman Umedh-da seeing my discomfort swooped down and took my bag from me, and ran back up the mountain. The trek had well and truly begun.

The walk upwards started with the village, but the path slowly disappeared into dense forest. Huge trees, more than a hundred feet tall, stood at regular intervals, guarding the forest floor from the soft morning sun. As I climbed onto the ridge, I got my first glimpse of the walk ahead, the mountain standing with its back upright, as if punished by its teacher. The dense forest gave way to the alpine meadow on top, giving us the trip's first glimpse of the stunning bugyaals!

Rann ka dhaar	Umedh-da	The climb ahead

We raced up the mountain, planting one step ahead of the other. We were gaining altitude quite rapidly, against every rule in the book. As I went higher, I could feel the air thinning out - each step becoming heavier and heavier. By the time we reached the Alpine Meadows, I was pooped! Although it was the most beautiful part of the trek, I just about managed to set my tent before collapsing, exhausted. The rest of the day was wasted inside my sleeping bag, as I desperately recovered from my mild bout of mountain sickness that had hit me. It had been at least fourteen kilometers uphill that day, with an altitude increase of well over three thousand feet.


Day 4 (17th June) :

Little had I realized the previous day, but our group was quite an unusual sight - we were the only group where the guides and trekkers were sharing a tent. Somehow, the many other trekkers sharing Bedni that day couldn't quite accept two things -
1) I had come alone with the guides
2) We shared our tent, our food, warm clothes, etc.
It's strange how people don't realize thishad, but the best way to get to know the people is to share with them. It's always nice to treat them as equals and more importantly as friends, as invariably, that's the most fun way of trekking!

Bedni Bugyaal	Our poorly pitched tent	Some other tents in the vicinity

Anyway, the next day was the walk to Baghubasa. Baghubasa, in the local language, means 'the point where even the leopard won't go'. It was an eight kilometer walk uphill, past the lush green alpine meadows, and to the desert, where all the grass is replaced with little pebbles. The walk was along a definite path, which started off as a gentle slope, but after a few kilometers, became a stiff climb up towards Ghada-lathni (I was told horses needed to be beaten to push them ahead of this point). Although the climb was still through the bugyaals, the air had a bite to it, and another round of warm clothes were pulled out of the bag. I chose to wrap myself in a poncho, but it wasn't good enough! The moment we would stop walking, it would become unbearably cold. And if there is one thing you learn to love, it is the sun! When in the sun, it would be so warm, that you could feel your (innermost) t-shirt getting moist with perspiration. But one bend later, on the shadier side of the mountain, it would become like an icebox.

Ali Bugyaal	Mountain	And some more..

Amongst all the groups that had set out that morning, we were the first - only beaten by the mules, who had set out much before us! Kalyan-da and I set about fixing the tent, while Umedh-da made his round of the vicinity, searching for water. And, just about as we finished covering the tent with the wind-resistant layer, hot tea was brought to the tent. It was uncomfortably chilly, as the sun had ducked behind the mountains. From the West, where the mountains sank into the valley, a thick cloud threateningly approached us. Soon enough, the whole place was enveloped inside the cloud, making anything more than ten meters away difficult to see. We attempted a small walk to limber down, but soon called it off, and retreated to the sanctuary of the tent. The tent (thanks to Hem and Kripa) was unbelievable comfortable!

Behind me is a sprawling valley, completely enveloped by clouds

I don't think my eyes stayed open for too long, and soon, I was fast asleep. Outside, the wind made eerie whistling sounds, threatening to whisk our tent off the ground, and throw us into the vast nothingness that loomed beyond the cliff.


Day 5 (18th June) :

I woke up the next morning all ready for the final push. It was just 4km to the promised lake.