Roopkund


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. 1Puncture No. 2Puncture 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 PindharUnsuspecting LizardSuspecting 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 dhaarUmedh-daThe 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 BugyaalOur poorly pitched tentSome 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 BugyaalMountainAnd 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.

Umedh-da was a blessing. Cajoling me each step of the way, I trudged upwards on the never-ending road. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the climb over the past few days, or the thinning air - either way, every step felt like twenty! My mind had decided that this was all I could take of the skeleton lake. I begged Umedh-da that I was fast nearing my breaking point and I could take no more. And yet, Umedh-da (who had transformed into a petulant child) insisted I do not give up. As I trudged upwards, I cursed myself for not working out those few more minutes prior to the trek. Umedh-da kept offering me chocolate and water, pumping me with carbohydrates and warding off any dehydration. And finally - just when all seemed lost (and three false summits had been crossed) - it appeared! Roopkund, at last!

The lake at lastThe skeletons skeleton that was kept on showMe, too exhausted to tuck in my startlingly white nada that was keeping my pants up..




My memories of the descent fail me - completely lost in the awesomeness of Roopkund. The eerie lake, the feeling of being alone amidst the massive mountains, the exhaustion soaked in the sense of achievement and the pride of having completed a trek I never thought I would ever do.

We walked down the mountain at a brisk pace. The descent being significantly easier than the ascent, we thought it would be better to trudge all the way to Bedni Bugyaal. I walked down - with my held high high and chest puffed out. Umedh-da walked a little ahead - it was just another day at work for him.

The two pillars - Umedh and Kalyan!A quick prayer on the way downAwesomeness!







Day 6 (19th June):

I woke up on the final day of the trek to a heated discussion outside the tent. Another group, still on their ascent, were negotiating with their porter regarding the cost of using his mule. The owner of the mule, clearly irascible by the terms stated by the trekkers, was threatening to leave the group to fend for themselves. Umedh-da tried his best to calm everyone down, but his efforts were in vain - and not finding any success, rejoined Kalyan-da and I as we packed up our tent.

As we set out towards the village below (a jeep/bus was to take us thereon), we bumped into the irate mule-owner. Muttering to himself, he trudged with the animal a little ahead of us. Seeing us approach, he broke into a smile and remarked how well Umedh-da, Kalyan-da and I seemed to get along (I firmly believe that small groups allow one to include the guide/porter as part of the team). He insisted that we do not carry our own bags, and, instead, use the mule that was walking beside us.

I was quite loath to the idea. Being miserly was an integral part of my traveling (I have changed since then!) - and the thought of paying someone to carry bags that I could very well carry myself was blasphemy! The mule-owner sensing our hesitation immediately confirmed that this was an offer in good faith - he will not charge us anything for this.




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Antaragange..

I'm going to Antaragange tomorrow.. The usual detailed write-up tomorrow (with photos!)

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My Trek to Rudranath

The Religious Aspect

In this trek, we learnt that we had covered two temples amongst the famous Panch Kedar pilgrimage. The Panch Kedar pilgrimage route comprises five Kedar temples – Kalpeshwar, Rudranath, Tungnath, Madhyamaheshwar, and Kedarnath.

After the Mahabharatha and all the gory war and bloodshed, the Pandavas suffered from kushta rog (leprosy). In search of salvation, they climbed up the Himalayas to seek the blessings from Lord Shiva. But, Shiva got enraged by the Pandavas who had come to him, and refused to bless them. Instead, he plunged underground.

When Shiva went underground, he parts of his body appeared on five different mountains. Thus
(a) at Kalpeshwar, his hair is worshipped.
(b) at Rudranath, his face is worshipped
(c) at Tungnath, his arms are worshipped
(d) at Madhyamaheshwar, his navel is worshipped
(e) at Kedarnath, his behind is worshipped

Our trek included Tungnath and Rudranath.



The Trek


Day 1 :

The first day was dedicated to traveling. The trek started in a small mountain town called Ukhimath, around two hundred kilometers from Dehradun. Being mountainous, all roads wind up steep cliffs, and most buses travel at no more than a snail’s pace. The journey was expected to take the whole day and we were to catch the bus that left at 7am.

All set to leave WII

But, it was not to be a very auspicious beginning! We woke up late, and by the time our morning ablutions finished, it was 6:45am. Still, we set out, hoping that some miracle would get us to the bus stand on time. If only wishes were horses…

As expected, we were late and had missed our bus. So, we decided on taking the next best route, catching a bus to Srinagar (a town that’s half-way to Ukhimath) and take it from there.

Buses to Srinagar being more frequent meant that it was not a long wait till we were on a bus, trudging through the mountains that we had come seeking for. The ride was not as spectacular as we would have wished, the summer having stolen much o f the greenery off the mountains. But, the bare, tall Shivaliks had a beauty of its own, and as the bus rattled over the gracious blend of mountains and peaks, we reached Srinagar two hours past noon.

Missed the bus, waiting at the bus stand

However, the weather had turned fairly damp and soon the clouds burst open and showers welcomed the four adventurers. Being from the Eastern part of the country, all our calculations had sunset at 6pm. Fearing dusk, we tried to start the remainder of the journey to Ukhimath. And we got first hand experience of being fleeced!

Rainy day at Srinagar

Before I continue telling you about this trip, I should tell you about the pricing in Uttarakhand. Uttarakhand is a hotbed of tourists for six months every year, and remains forgotten for the remaining six months. Being a hilly region, tourism is the only real source of income. And, with most tourists being pilgrims, who are willing to spend, the locals literally “make hay when the sun shines”. And, with the sun shining for only six months, all prices are doubled and every naïve tourist is fleeced at the smallest opportunity.
The four first-timers were like lambs being sent to the slaughter. Seeing us in a desperate state to get to our destination, every jeep drivers flatly refused to take us to our destination. We heard all kinds of stories, ranging from the dangerous roads to Ukhimath to the fear of heavy rains. Finally, one driver agreed, and charged us a whopping twelve hundred rupees.

The drive was scenic, and we got our first glimpse of what the scenery would be like for the next few days. The hills were lush with vegetation, and the rain had cleaned the air. The horizon was filled with hills and mountains, that struggled to rise above each other. The pregnant clouds kissed the mountains, threatening to burst into heavy showers at the smallest provocation. The road ran alongside the Alaknanda, and finally, the Himalayas were within touching distance!

The Alaknanda, en route to Ukhimath

We finally reached Ukhimath around six. The skies were still bright, and we met our guide for the week, Mr. Umit Singh. After a quick cup of the local chai and a hastened ablution, we got on to another jeep that drove us to the sleepy town called Sari.

Negi Tourist Guest House - The Lodge!

We found ourselves a room at a lodge, a little uphill. This lodge comprised rooms and a restaurant. It wasn’t a very fancy set-up, but we were out to rough it out, and we gladly took it. As dinner was prepared, we went for a small walk around the village, to stretch our legs after the whole days’ journey.

Bus journeys are strangely exhausting! You feel restless and irritable, till you hit the bed where you just sleep like you’ve been walking all day! And thus, we soon hit the sack, and were fast asleep, snoring away..

Harsha, me, Umit Singh and Sandeep


Day 2 :

We were woken up at 5am by Umit Singh. The plan for today, a we were told by Umitda was an early morning trek up to a high altitude lake – Devriya Tal. This would be followed by a bus ride to another small nearby town called Choptha, from where we would climb the Tungnath mountain, and stay near the Tungnath temple. We would also be meeting Sabuj, a researcher at WII, who had helped us a lot with the initial planning of the trek. It was also Sabuj who got us in Umitda as a guide.

Stop for an early morning cup of tea

Our destination was just over the hill

We set out for Devriya Tal in the highest of spirits. It was our first trek, we were getting off the mark! With great gusto, we began our climb uphill. And we were in for a terrible shock. Within fifteen minutes, we were panting for breath.

Ghana takes a breather

One terribly deceiving characteristic of all mountain climbs is that the summit appears deceivingly close by! Every time we looked up, the summit seemed just a little away, but try as we might, that distance never seemed to reduce. Thankfully, Umitda showed us the way it’s done! He insisted we walk slowly, and as we trudged along, before we knew it, we were half way up the hill.

We all walked up silently, absorbing the sounds, breathing in the fresh mountain air, and hearing a buffet of bird cries. The sky was clear, and the sun slowly gathered momentum as it started its journey to the zenith. We trudged along, happy that the trek was finally here!

And soon enough, we had reached our destination. We reached the top of the ridge, and climbed down a little to the lake. It was a pristine lake in a small clearing, surrounded by dense forest. But, the icing on the cake was the brilliant snow-capped mountains in the background. This is how everyone’s reaction went – “Wow… The lake is beautWOW! Look at the mountains!”, as they first saw the lake and then were stumped by the mountains! It was stunning. I struggle to find words and photographs to explain the kind of emotions that I experienced, but that moment was bliss!

Devriya Tal


The stunning snow-capped peaks – Chaukhamba

Sandeep and I took a dip in the lake. The water was ice cold and the water was clear. You could see tadpoles darting around, trying to avoid my feet in the water. Except for the ripples caused by our entry into the water, all else was calm. At the other end of the pool, a group of monkeys sipped water. There was something sacred about the place!

We didn’t want to leave the lake. It was calm, beautiful, and perfect. Everything was right about Devriya Tal. But, we had to move on! And, we started our journey back to Sari. The walk downhill was much faster and much easier. We ran down the slopes with ease, and before we knew it, we were at Sari. Next stop was Choptha, so we packed our bags and began our wait for some form of public transport to take us to our next destination.

Umitda said he would find us a vehicle, and set out scouting to find some jeep going in that direction. We waited, and before we knew it, fell asleep! Our sound sleep was rudely awakened by Umitda, who told us, all attempts to find a vehicle had been unsuccessful, and we would have to start walking towards a junction, to increase the chances of getting a vehicle. And much to Murphy’s pleasure, the skies chose this very moment to become overcast and start raining. But, we had no choice, and we had to trudge along. Before we knew it,we were enveloped by mist. We were walking in the clouds! But, with bags on our backs, we walked on.

Walking in the clouds, as we set off for Choptha

At the junction, we did find a jeep, and the looting of the tourists continued. Citing the government’s diesel price hike as the chief cause for the exorbitant rates, the jeep driver took us to Choptha for five hundred rupees. This journey, in the non-tourist season, will cost not more than forty per person. But, alas! We were in a fix, and after using the best bargaining skills (learnt from haggling with Chennai auto drivers) we had to succumb to his ridiculously high demands.
By the time the car reached Choptha, the rain had stopped. We alighted and pampered ourselves with some steaming hot tea and pakodas. The pakodas were delicious, and our bodies welcomed the hot tea. Feeling refreshed, we set out on the four kilometer climb up to Tungnath.

The climb to Tungnath was like doing Devriya Tal again, but a little longer! It was almost twice as long. But, the views were spectacular. The climb started in a region dense with trees. There was a proper path (made for the mules who carry people uphill) and we walked up. We spotted the pyka, a small mammal of the rabbit family (it looks more like a rat, though).

Pyka

Soon, we had crossed the tree line. The air was becoming a thinner, and the stops for “catching breath” increased in frequency. But, the sights were breathtaking. The alpine meadows are grassy regions, that occur above the tree line. The tree line is the highest altitude up to which trees grow. The slopes become more gentle and the whole place appears like a collage of green grass and various coloured flowers!

The tree line, the alpine meadows and the heavens opening up


The beautiful hills - approaching dusk

Catching breath at one of the many pit-stops along the way

Miles to go before I sleep...

We reached Tungnath at dusk. The sun was bidding its daily farewell, and the skies lit up in a dazzling expression of colours. We stayed in a small hut – the equivalent of a five start hotel in the city (it came with one bathroom per two rooms, a luxury!). We also met a very interesting Englishman – Mr. William. William is a drummer, who plays at the pub – The Ministry of Sound. He works for half the year and spends the remaining half traveling around the world. He was spending two months in the Himalayas when we met him. All he carries is his backpack and some money and wanders around the mountain with no particular destination in mind.

We spent the night at this hotel. Plan for tomorrow, catch the sunrise from the peak!

Sunset

WIlliam and the others at the ‘hotel’


Day 3 :

We were up by a quarter past four. We didn’t want to miss the sunrise. The sunrise would surely not wait for us, and this was the only opportunity we would be getting to see the sunrise from a peak. Sandeep, Ghana and I were up in a jiffy, all set to climb up to Chandrasheela. Harsha preferred to sleep the sunrise off, as he wasn’t feeling up to the early morning adventure.

The climb was routine. It was a short walk, that could not have been more than half a kilometer. The gradient was steady and fairly steep at times, but the fear of missing the sun rise egged us on.

And when we did get to the peak, the sights were spectacular! The sunrise was perfectly awesome. The English language (or any language for that matter) lacks the words to describe the sights that unfurled. The cold air, the warm sunlight struggling to find its way out of the clouds, the silence of the mountains, disturbed only by the chirping of the bird.

Here comes the sun...

But, try as we might, however good the camera is, capturing the moment never happens. The smells, the sound, the climb up the mountain, all made the sunrise just that much more special.

Watching the sunrise

Sandeep and Ghana discuss as they await the sun

After seeing the sunrise, we climbed down to Tungnath. On the way down, we stopped and prayed at the Tungnath temple. Unlike Kedarnath, Tungnath is less crowded. When we went to the temple, there was noone else there.

The temple is very simple. It is the highest amongst the Panch Kedar peaks, and not as famous as Kedarnath. It was simple, yet beautiful. We spent some time at the temple, just enjoying the peace and quiet.

Praying at Tungnath

We got back and immediately packed our bags to leave for our destination, Mandal. The plan of action was to climb down the mountain as fast as possible and catch the one bus that plies between Choptha and Mandal. We did make it in good time, but unfortunately, the bus didn’t. Even after an hour’s wait, there was no sign of the bus.

Sandeep and me were getting a little impatient. We wanted to walk more. Now, during a conversation with Pankaj (Sabuj’s assistant), it came to light that there existed a trail through the forest to Mandal. The road to Mandal is over twenty six kilometers, but the jungle trail is less than half that much. So, after much persuasion, we convinced Ghana and Harsha to carry our bags to Mandal by bus and Sandeep, Umitda and I set off to Mandal on foot.

The walk was nothing like anything we had expected. Thirteen kilometers can be unimaginably long! And also, walking downhill is no as easy as it sounds! Constantly checking one’s speed, being careful of slippery rocks, and so on and so forth, this journey was turning out to be quite a tough nut to crack! But, we walked on, one step at a time. The greatest positive that came out of this walk was that we got to know our guide much better. He told us many a story about his experiences over the last fifteen years as a guide. He told us of the different students he has come across, he showed us a variety of flora and fauna. The walk was very informative.

We got to Mandal a little after one in the afternoon. We had made good time, and we were quite proud of ourselves. Ignoring our aching legs, we basked in the glory of having walked so much (little did we know that we’d walk much more during the next three days!)

Mandal was the base camp for the Rudranath trek. The rest of the day was given for rest. Umitda made us some delicious chicken for dinner. We pampered ourselves that day, with Sabuj allowing us to use his internet connection. We packed, then unpacked and repacked all our belongings, taking only the absolute essentials. While climbing, very gram is important. We shed every gram of unnecessary items, and after a wonderful dinner, slept a little early night. Sandeep and I needing that little extra bit of rest after the walk from Choptha.


Day 4:

The day started a little late. We had expected to start walking uphill at the crack of dawn, but a sudden reconsideration of the plan allowed us to catch an extra hour of sleep. We woke up at around six and took a jeep to a village called Sagar, a little away from Mandali. This is where our trek began!

The view when we just started trekking

The first day had a grueling ten kilometer uphill climb. Just the sound of it sounded scary, but we just had to keep walking. Umitda and I shared most of the weight between ourselves, as we carried sleeping bags, clothes and some food for the journey.

The initial part of the walk was not really tiring. We were excited and the adrenaline was doing most of the walking. The scenic hills on one side and the scenic valley on the other kept us from focusing our attention on our fatigue.

We stopped at a little opening for breakfast. We thanked Sumithra for giving us tomato sauce and jam, as we gobbled away sandwiches. One great thing about trekking is that absolutely any food tastes delicious. We greedily ate every crumb of bread from the packet of stale bread we had bought at Mandal.

But, as the climb went on and on, legs began to ache. The fatigue was finally catching up. Carrying the bag was much tougher than what I had expected. The trail had absolutely no respite from the steep ascent. The weather was very peculiar – when walking, it appeared to be unbearably hot. My clothes were drenched in perspiration. But the moment one stopped walking, the sweat would start drying and it would become uncomfortably cold.

Polishing off breakfast

Around four kilometers from our destination, it suddenly became very old. The mist was coming in, and along with the mist came rain. The temperature suddenly dropped, and with that, our moods took a downward plunge. Tempers flared, and everyone huddled under their respective ponchos. We simultaneously realized we were out of water. All of a sudden, everything looked bleak.

Enter Umitda! This is just one of the many times he saved us during the trek. As we squabbled and sat grumpily, scared of what the rest of the mountain had in store for us, Umitda disappeared into the forest, and returned carrying four full bottles of water. Like Superman, he broke off some pieces of wood from a dead tree, and started a fire. He poured the water in the cooker, and began boiling the water. And in five minutes, we had piping hot soup ready! The soup was like ambrosia! It lifted up spirits, everyone was smiling again, and the journey ahead didn’t seem even half as scary as it looked a few moments ago.

We continued out walk up, rejuvenated. But, the skies refused to clear, and a continuous light drizzle kept us aware that Mother Nature might drench us in rain at any moment. We reached a little hut along the way, at a spot called Nyuti.

Nyuti, the way it was described, always had us picturing a collection of huts, and more than fifteen or so people, bustling around the place. How wrong we were! Nyuti comprises one hut, in which live a man and his best friend, a dog called Madan. This man runs a little dhaba for the weary trekker. The dhaba also has a room next door, which trekkers can use to stay in.

By the time we reached Nyuti, our exhaustion was back. We were taking ten minute breaks every five minutes, and our trudging along at snail’s pace made out destination appear much further. Umitda suggested we stay at Nyuti that night. There were also rumours that there was a group staying at Pannaar, our destination for the night. Umitda recommended that we stay the night at Nyuti itself, as there was a chance that we might not get a room when we reach our destination. Sleeping the night between sheep was not a very good incentive, and we jumped at the “staying in Nyuti” plan.

As we entered the hut, we noticed a group all set to continue their walk uphill. We learned that they had set off before us, and had just finished a refreshing halt. Amongst the group was one baba. The baba seemed to have found purpose in the hut – lighting a chillam. Harsha and Ghana gave the other group disapproving looks and went into the ‘room’ to tak some rest. Sandeep and I stared in amazement as the baba nonchalantly prepared the hashish for his dose of the intoxicant. Soon, the chillam was lit, and it was being passed on. Not to let go of such an opportunity, Sandeep and me jumped into the circle, and sucked in the smoke from the narrow end of the little mud cone.

One puff was all that was needed. I reckon I made a quick trip to the moon and back with that one puff. Suddenly, all the tiredness disappeared, and Sandeep and me were all set to resume our climb. However, common sense prevailed, and the moment I touched the bed, I was lost in a world of slumber.

Happiness is happening!

Dinner was served at nine. We struggled to wake up, the long walk uphill draining us of most of our energy. The warmth of the blanket and sleeping bag made getting up and walking to the eating area of the hut impossible. But, hunger is known to make people do extraordinary things, and after a heavy dinner of soya, potato, dal, rice and roti, we all called it a day.

A man takes shelter at the hut


Day 5:

The new day arrived. The sun rose, starting its daily journey to the west. We didn’t wake up! And nor did Umitda, the exhaustion clearly getting to him too! A panicky Umit Singh did wake us up at around seven. We were told to hastily be done with our morning ablutions, and within the next forty five minutes, we set off for Pitrodhaar.

The hut at Nyuti

Pitrodhaar is the highest point of the trek. It is a ridge that we have to cross to reach Rudranath. We began climbing, knowing that we have to make up for the two kilometers we did not do yesterday. But, the advantage of climbing in the mornings is that fresh air and fresh legs make climbing much easier. We soon got past the initial two, canceling our arrears, and we set out on the quest to Rudranath.

The next three kilometers started on a good note. The weather was much cooler, making it a lot more pleasant to walk. Since everyone was walking at their own pace, the group soon go divided into five individual trekkers. But, the mist had to play spoilsport, and soon we were enveloped by the clouds. It was beautiful, walking in the clouds, but it made the place a little chilly. The fear of one of us getting left behind cropped in our minds, and we were trying innovative ways to check on the others. We did hit upon a successful method, but not before some interesting unsuccessful attempts.

During these experiments, Sandeep and I had a very interesting conversation. I was carrying the bag, huffing and puffing away. I was panting, struggling to breathe at a steady rhythm. With low oxygen levels, breathing can get irritatingly hard. And then, this happened –
S : Hey.. Kedar.. You there?
K : Yes da, tell me..
S : Can you sing a song?
K :%#$% #@$

I was so bugged with Sandeep at that moment, but looking back, it is hilarious! Sandeep denies this conversation at times, and sometimes denies being serious, but trust me, that guy wanted me to sing to him when I could hardly talk. We finally decided to shout “Jai Rudranath”. This did turn out to be fairly successful, and we carried on with these chants for the better half of the trek.

We finally reached Pitrodhaar. The final kilometer or so was a real struggle, but kudos to the group, as everyone put their head down and just walked. The final kilometer refused to finish, and everyone had dipped into their reserve energy during the final uphill lap of the climb. The only thing that was pushing us on was the knowledge that after Pitrodhaar, it was all downhill!

Relief upon reaching Pitrodhaar

At Pitrodhaar, it was time for another decision – where to camp that night. Our options were –
(a)stay at Rudranath, at a Dharamshala
(b)stay 3 km away from Rudranath, where the road to Mandal begins
The way the paths are is that the last three kilometers is the same, whether you start from Sagar or Mandal. We decided to camp at the junction of the two roads. The plan was simple, we first would walk a kilometer downhill to the junction. We would then leave our bags at a little hut at the junction, and then climb three kilometers further downhill to Rudranath. After resting at Rudranath, we would return to the junction, thus completing the next day’s uphill bit today itself.

Since we were well above the tree line, it was only alpine meadows everywhere. The lush green grass and the gentle slopes of the mountains surrounded us. We walked towards Rudranath.

Alpine meadows, before Pitrodhaar

With no bags on our backs, we flew! We covered the distance in no time, and before we knew it, we were at Rudranath. Unfortunately, the priest decided that the deity needed his daily siesta, and we had to spend the next ninety minutes waiting for the doors of the temple to be opened.

Awaiting the doors to be opened

The doors finally did open at three in the afternoon, and after thanking the Lord for the wonderful trip so far, we set out back to the little hut where our bags lay waiting for us.

Praying at the Rudranath temple

We walked back to the little hut. We were excited and satisfied, we had made it to Rudranath! It was only downhill from here.

It had been a tiring day. We had walked over ten kilometers, and the exhaustion got the better of us. And before we knew it, we were fast asleep. Dinner was the usual menu of dal, roti and rice, and our sleeps were briefly interrupted for dinner. But, the most difficult part of the trek was over, and the mood in the camp was happy!


Day 6 :


The last day started off at a half past five. The idea was to complete as much of the return as early as possible, so that we would get to Mandal before dusk. The schedule was a kilometer uphill followed by fifteen downhill. We began walking.

The last uphill climb is done.. It's all downhill from here

The downhill climb was much easier than uphill. The increasing oxygen levels and the general help offered by gravity made it a lot easier to walk down the cliff than up.

The day was a lot clearer than what we had experienced so far. Mandai was visible – a little speck in the valley. We were walking above the clouds. It was an experience that I struggle to describe in words.

Walking above the clouds

The highlight of my day was a leopard pug mark I spotted. I am a very slow walker when it comes to waling downhill. I used this as an opportunity to observe as much around me as possible. Now, I’m not very good at this, but this pug mark sure made me very proud!

Leopard pugmark

Our first destination was a temple called Anusuya Devi. This temple comes four kilometers before Mandal. There is a belief that whatever one wishes at this temple, comes true. I chose to thank god for the perfect trip we had so far!

The moutain in the background is the mountain we had climbed (it's hidden behind clouds)


At Ansuya Devi

We finally got back to Mandal by around three in the afternoon. Sandeep had come down much faster, and by the time I returned (I was the slowest downhill), Sandeep had washed up and was all set for lunch.

I got back and made a dash for the bathroom. It had been three long days since I had a bath, and I had never imagined I’d miss being clean so much. That night, we gormandized on some egg curry and rice. After all those days of potato and rice, anything non-starchy was like a blessing.

I was a little dejected. I didn’t want the trek to end. But, I guess it’s not really a choice. Everything will end sometime or the other, and with this philosophical thought, I crashed that night.

The next morning, we woke up before the sun, and set out back to Dehradun, bidding farewell to the magnificent Himalayas

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