03 August - Navidhang

We woke up early feeling completely refreshed. In our exhaustion last evening, we had barely registered that the Om parbat for which we had trekked all this way, was completely obscured by clouds. This morning we were hoping that the weather would clear up enough for us to see the Om. This is indeed one of nature's miracles. The mountain top is usually covered completely with snow. During this time of the year, the snow melts sufficiently to reveal an Om shape in snow. The photo here is one I got on the net (courtesy: www.meriyatrra.com).

We waited for a pretty long time. We chanted Om with all our hearts. Finally the clouds parted to partially reveal the mountain top in the distance. But alas, a lot of the snow had melted and what we saw was a somewhat broken form of the Om. Courtesy: Global Warming. Another one of nature's beautiful and miraculous creations has fallen a victim to it. We all felt saddened and grew a little quiet. Still, we were glad to have made the effort and at least caught a glimpse of the Om. God knows if in future people will even be able to see as much. Perhaps future trekkers may completely bypass this part of the trek. That would be really sad. Anyway, this is what we saw.

After breakfast everybody went exploring. There was a beautiful little Shiva temple near the camp. Another point of interest was the wreck of a helicopter that's been lying around for a long, long time. This morning we lazed about till lunch. The weather was pleasant, no rain and we were only supposed to climb down to Kalapani and camp there.

Sachin had gotten better through the night but Pallavi was feeling ill. The altitude had given her a headache and she was also feeling nauseous. So Aditya and Pallavi left early, after breakfast. The rest of us had a nice lunch and left at around 12:30. Today, wonder of wonders, I reached camp first and in under 2 hours. There was not a spot of rain and the road was all downhill. After everybody reached the camp, I suffered through a round of highly exaggerated pats on the back.

By then Pallavi had revived completely and now Aditya was sleeping like a log. We ribbed her that perhaps he had had to carry her down the mountain. With the horse.

That day at camp, we had steaming cups of soup and sang endless rounds of songs. Around 6:30 pm, we went to the temple to join in the aarti. We sang bhajans and recited prayers and ate the bhog brought by the jawans. It was a beautiful experience. The whole atmosphere was spiritually charged and we returned to our fibre huts feeling rejuvenated. We went to sleep with the happy thought that tomorrow also was a light day, just the 9 km to Gunji.

02 August – Gunji-Navidhang Track – Part 3

After crossing the bridge, we stopped to catch our breath. Now I let go of Atul so he could get on at his own pace. Sushrut and I paired up for the rest of the way. We started crossing the yatris of Mount Kailash who were descending. Theirs was a big group of more than 50 and they had lots of mules and horses. The road had mucked up a lot under their feet and we were slipping in the mud all the time. They were exhilarated at having successfully returned from Mt Kailash.

After the whole group had descended, we again had the track to ourselves. The landscape became increasingly arid as we climbed higher. The track was wide and the slope was not so steep. Just as I settled into a steady pace, it started raining in earnest. At first I was glad not to be climbing in the hot sun. But then the rain began lashing at my face and arms and legs. Even though I was wearing a full raincoat, I could feel ice cold water seeping onto my neck and shoulders. A group of ITBP jawans passed by and one of them stopped to point at Sushrut's poncho. "Sir, you should know better than to wear such flimsy rain gear. Yahaan pe iska kya faayda? You need full coverage from the rain up here. "

I noticed Sachin making good progress inspite of being ill. Slowly the gap between us and the rest of the group kept widening. This part of the trek is somewhat hazy in my mind as I was growing increasingly numb. It's actually only about 9 kms, uphill of course but not all that bad. However, the torrential ice cold rain beat us up thoroughly. We couldn't see much around us through the rain. I was only looking a few feet in front of me and kept my head down to avoid the pin pricks of the rain on my face. Somewhere on the way I saw pretty blue flowers of Belladona peeping up at us from the side of the track. But I couldn't imagine getting out my camera in the downpour to click a photo. In fact between the eleven of us we don't have a single photo of this part of the trek.

I had no idea how long we had been walking. I had no idea when we were going to reach and I couldn't even open my mouth to ask. Sahji was waiting for us around the next bend. When we reached him, we could see a camp in the distance. I perked up a bit and deflated again when Sahji said, "That is not the camp. It's an ITBP post but the camp is another km or so ahead of it. Do you want me to stay with you?" Sushrut replied that he'd get us to camp, Sahji could go ahead to see to things. By now he was almost pushing me along. My toes were numb, my fingers were numb, my face was numb. The rain was whipping us on all sides. The wind roared through the valleys. Over all that noise I could hear Sushrut asking me if I was alright, and saying that it was just a matter of metres now, but I was completely out of it. I couldn't summon up the energy to reply. I trudged along putting one foot in front of another. At that point I don't think I even cared about getting anywhere. I was just walking. Later Sushrut confessed that he was quite alarmed by my behaviour.

Then out of the rain, we saw silhouettes of the camp ahead of us. Somehow I had managed to make it there on my own two feet. It was almost 5:30 pm. As we reached camp, my uncle came running out into the rain. He hugged me hard and said, "Ali ga majhi babdi (My little girl is here)". He had been tremendously worried because of the terrible conditions and later on he said he could hear his sister i.e. my mother's voice in his ear lambasting him for putting her daughter up to such a risky venture.

A jawan came and quickly herded us into a small shack. Inside, it was blazing hot thanks to a huge kerosene stove called bukhari. I was pushed as close to the bukhari as possible. Someone turned me around a few times like a kabab being nicely barbecued. As I warmed up, I found my voice. "I can't feel my fingers," I said. Someone peeled off my gloves, and my right thumb had turned blue. "Will it have to be amputated?" I wailed at Sushrut. "Oh come on, don't be so melodramatic. It'll come back to normal. Give it some time." I was told. Slowly, I thawed out and feeling returned to my toes, fingers, face with an attack of tiny pin pricks all over. The thumb took more than 3-4 hours. To this day, everybody ribs me about my thumb amputation. I maintain that my brain was frozen at the time and so I'm not responsible for anything said and done at the time.

Along one wall barely 2 feet from the bukhari was a bench. We sat there and drank a few cups of piping hot tea and warmed from the inside out. I really wonder all the time at the hospitality of the ITBP people. They not only do their duty but take care of all the yatris too as if they were precious family members. God bless them.

After we had substantially warmed up, we reluctantly left the heat of the bukhari and went to our tent. The rest of the gang was there. They had changed and almost all had fallen into an exhausted sleep. We too got out of our soaked clothes and went to sleep. All of us woke up only when we were called out for dinner.

02 August – Gunji-Navidhang Track – Part 2 – Rockslide at Kalapani

We were happy to have made good speed to Kalapani. The location also was beautiful. The river Kali originates here. There is a fairly big temple built over the spot where the river actually flows out of the earth. You can go inside and see where the water originates from. Additionally there are shrines to Shivji and Kali Maa. The temple is spotlessly clean and well kept. In the evenings the jawans gather in the temple to sing bhajans. Whenever there is a group of trekkers, they are supposed to join in the singing and praying.
Outside the temple, there are low stone walls built around the small pond formed by the river in front of the temple. The whole courtyard and the approach road are decorated with brightly coloured flags and trishuls. We sat there soaking the sun for quite some time. Again the jawans fed us fat potato chips and hot tea. I stuffed myself. No other chips have ever tasted so good to me.
A little later we made our way to camp. We sat in the dining room and rested. There was another group scheduled to reach the camp a few hours later. They were returning from Kailas Manasarovar.
Sachin was looking a little down. He had severe stomach ache and was running a slight fever. By the time lunch was served he had become even more lethargic and ate very little. Sahji tried to arrange for a doctor but the one in this camp had gone to Gunji. After he returned, he gave him some medicines and asked him to rest a little.
As we came out to wash our hands, it suddenly struck us that the sunlight had disappeared. It was 1 o’clock in the afternoon but it was quite dark outside. There were ominous dark clouds overhead, shards of lightning leapt across the sky and soon enough cold droplets of rain came pouring down. Sahji and Sudhir Uncle were trying to arrange an extra horse for Sachin, but there was little chance of it because there are hardly 4-5 huts in the village of Kalapani besides the ITBP camp. We were hoping to sit out the really bad patch of rain and start walking again after the rain eased off a little.
Instead of lessening the rain seemed to intensify and all of a sudden, there was a deafening crack followed by rumbling. “Come out, Come out”, we were instructed. We ran out to see a large portion of the mountain top right ahead of camp had broken off and rocks and mud were sliding down onto the road. A dog yelped loudly as a few stones hit him, but he got away to safety. We were surrounded by mountains everywhere. This didn’t look like a good sign. And why come out? Wouldn’t it be safer inside? No, I was told. You stay out and watch carefully so if a rock slide hits camp you can know which way to run. That was reassuring!
The jawans told us - Move. This is going to get worse. It is better if you hit the road. The next 2 kilometers or so are risky. Once you leave camp, run all the way to the bridge ahead. Once you cross the bridge, you should be safe. But till you reach there, don’t slack off and keep watching the mountains.We quickly put on raincoats and came out of the camp. Atul grabbed my hand and said,” Didi, you are the slowest one. Just keep with me. I won’t leave your hand but you have to run like hell. You are not allowed to be tired. We stop when I stay we stop.” I nodded, saving my breath for the run. Believe me, I ran like the hounds of hell were after me. The road was wide enough and firm, so I didn’t worry about slipping and falling. But over the sound of my own labored breathing, I strained to catch a cracking or rumbling that would signify a rock slide but I could hear nothing. Finally, the bridge appeared ahead of us and we slowed down.

02 August – Gunji-Navidhang Track – Part 1 – Gunji to Kalapani

The next morning I woke up and Sushrut was not to be seen. I pulled on my shoes and walked outside. There he was, outside the barrack, chatting to Sudhir uncle and munching away on biscuits. I raised my eyebrows and asked him, “I thought you weren’t coming with us today.” “Ha!” He said. “Why wouldn’t I?” I was overjoyed to see him up and about with no sign of the headache.
Around 7:15 am, we gulped hot glasses of bourn vita and left the gates of the Gunji camp. Turning right we walked a sharp incline and came to a kind of a plain where again there was an ITBP check post and a head count was done. The sky was a deep blue with puffs of clouds everywhere and everything was bathed in a pale watery light. The air was crisp and clean with a faint piney smell. The walk was pleasant and invigorating. The path was wide and stone strewn and it seemed like we were out on a simple nature trail with no sign of the previous hardships.
The Kali seemed like a sweet gurgling brook. I found it hard to believe that this was the same river. Sometimes we were high above the river and sometimes we were walking alongside it. We could see cliffs of sandstone on the opposite side and mountains of a yellowish ochre stone on our side and smooth pebbles and rocks along the river. There were moss and lichen covered trees and unusually shaped dried trunks all around. I was lulled into a feeling of tranquility and mostly walked in silence.
A small battalion of ITBP soldiers raced by us at one point. They were probably out on their exercise routine. A little before Kalapani we saw structures like closed rooms down below the path a little off the river bed. When we asked Sahji, he said those were actually bathrooms. Somewhere below were hot springs and the bathrooms were built for pilgrims to bathe in them. A hot bath sounded heavenly though sadly we were in no position to take advantage of it. We had a lot of ground to cover yet with no time for luxuries.The trek was completely uneventful and almost soothing and we covered the 9 kms to Kalapani by 11:15 am. I should have wondered then at such an out of sync calm but I was too busy enjoying myself to look a gift horse in the mouth.

01 August – Budhi-Gunji Track – Part 4 – At the Gunji Camp

We were all ravenous by the time we stripped off socks and shoes and plonked on the bed. Most of us had eaten very little at lunch. I think the altitude gain and exertion had temporarily depressed our hunger pangs and now we were famished. We opened our sacks and gave a pretty good imitation of the seven wild brothers in Satte Pe Satta (Remember the Amitabh Bachchan movie?). For a while, all you could hear was the rustling of bags and crunching and munching and “Gimme”. I guess that’s the advantage of trekking with guys you’ve grown up with. We were totally at ease with each other. Everyone ate but for Sushrut. His headache had worsened and he was resting in the hut next door. He was quite tired but couldn’t sleep.

By dinner time, he was still tossing and turning. Sudhir Uncle asked him to at least eat a little rice, since he had not eaten the whole day. We went into the dinner hut. There was papad, soya chunk gravy (we had it almost every day, actually) and some wonderful kheer. After dinner, Sahji took Sushrut to the camp doctor. Gunji is the camp where people going to Manasarovar have their final medical checkup. So they have one in-house doctor and a decent supply of meds.

The doctor checked Sushrut and found that his BP had shot up to an alarming 180/100! Diagnosis - Acute Mountain Sickness. It was because of the altitude, especially the sudden gain at Chhialekh. The doctor gave him 2 tablets and predicted that he’d be fine the next morning coz by then he’d get acclimatized. We were worried and skeptical about that and wondered if he’d have to stay behind when we went to Kalapani the next day. I then remembered that Sushrut had had the same terrible headaches at Leh too, only in that case they wrongly got blamed on a migraine attack.

As we went to sleep, I prayed that Sushrut would get better by morning because I didn’t want to leave him behind. I didn’t want him to miss out on the excitement. And it just wouldn’t be as enjoyable for me without him.

01 August – Budhi-Gunji Track – Part 3 – Garbyang to Gunji

This part of the trek was lengthy but nothing to give you butterflies in the stomach. Just keep on walking steadily in a rhythm. We reached Seti by 1:30, had some lunch and pushed off. I did not much feel like eating. Sushrut had a terrible headache. He is prone to migraines and often feels nauseous during a bout. So he had a nap instead of lunch and I woke him up when it was time to move on. He drank a small bottle of Glucon-D and began walking after splashing some water on his face.

The route was scenic and the trees gave off a pleasant piney aroma. The sand by the river looked bone dry and white. We were walking almost in 2s or 3s and Sushrut and I were pretty much alone. But there was nothing scary about it. Imagine the thrill – to be able to look up at the vast open sky, the tall green mountains, hear a few birds twittering, the river gushing close by, feel the crunch of dry twigs and gravel underfoot, and not have a single soul around! As if all of nature’s splendour were on a display just for your pleasure! It was one of the best parts of the trek for me.

By 3:30 pm, we were just about 4-5 kms away from Gunji camp. At one point, the Kali turns right and Kuti begins to keep you company. Gunji is situated on the confluence of the two rivers. In the distance, I could see the camp at Gunji. It’s across the river. But there’s only one bridge to reach it. So you keep walking and leave the camp behind on the other side, make a U-turn, cross the bridge and then cover the same distance on the other side and walk down to the camp. It seems like such a waste of time, perhaps because you keep seeing the camp but reach it after almost 1 and 1/2 hrs.

To enter Gunji, you climb a steep slope. There’s no grip to the soil and the road tilts at an angle outside as if it’s trying to make you fall into the river. In the middle of it, stood two ITBP jawans with a canteen of warm water and a flask of tea and those crunchy fat potato chips. We were eager to reach the camp but had some of everything out of respect for their kindness. They are so helpful and go out of their way to make you feel welcome that you cannot help but reciprocate. Almost all of us had now converged upon the route and made our way into camp together. Fat droplets of rain began to pitter-patter on our heads giving us added incentive to race the last few meters down. It was 5 pm on the dot when we entered the camp.

01 August – Budhi-Gunji Track – Part 2 – Chhialekh to Garbyang

There is a canteen run by KMVN at the top of Chhialekh. My aunt Lata and Pallavi had reached ahead of us coz of the horses. They were already ensconced in the tiny kitchen frying puris. They said they preferred the toasty warm room to the cold outside. I was happy to help – by eating. Hot puris, potato subzi, pickle, steaming mugs of tea. Heaven! Especially since it was pretty cold up here. There was a strong breeze.

Like a fool, I had not thought to carry a windcheater. The guy who ran the canteen had a few woolen caps for sale. I bought one and pulled it low over my ears. I wore the raincoat in place of a windcheater and we moved on towards the meadow.
There was an ITBP check post as usual. They thoroughly examined all our documents and waved us on. The next few kms to Garbyang were a walk in the clouds. I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven.

Low clouds, lush green meadows, occasional patches of snow visible in the distance, cows mooing softly, dry firm path and millions of wild flowers. Sahji had said earlier that we would walk in a valley of flowers. But this? This was paradise. I think it would be more appropriate to say I floated down towards Garbyang. There were a few tricky patches, but they did not register much in our euphoric state.

The path goes downwards pretty quickly. Milind pointed out that we’d find it difficult on our way back. But we were not interested in thinking that far. As we neared Garbyang, the path underfoot became slippery, made of white sand and mud. Like chikni mitti.

Garbyang is an ancient picturesque village on the old Indo-Tibet trade route. All the houses have beautifully carved wooden doors and windows. It’s more popular as the ‘sinking village’. Scientific reason for this is the location of the village over glacial lake sediments. The sinking is unique because it is continuous and records show up to 20m of sinking in a span of ten years. There are houses which were originally on the same level and are now on three different levels! We passed another checkpoint ahead of Garbyang and continued towards Seti.

01 August – Budhi-Gunji Track – Part 1 – Budhi to Chhialekh

The next morning dawned cool and fresh. As we looked out from the camp, we saw blue skies sprinkled with gray clouds, and lush green mountains dotted with icy patches of frozen streams. Feeling invigorated, we left camp at sharp 6:45 am after downing glasses of hot bournvita and glucose biscuits.
Today, I decided to get rid of the backpack. I only carried a waist pouch filled with candied sweets, nuts and chunks of crystal sugar. The pockets of my cargo pants bulged with bottles of water and Glucon-D. My raincoat was tied around my waist. But I found it easier to walk this way.

As Sahji had promised, the climb was steep. I could feel the blood pounding at my temples and my breathing grow laboured. There was no let up in the gradient. I paused from time to time, but just for a few moments. I never made the mistake of sitting down; even at the little tea stop midway thru’ the climb. I wasn’t sure that my legs would support me again once I sat down.

On the way we saw colorfully decorated mules, bells jingling around their necks, making their way down the slope.

Pallavi finally asked for the remaining third horse. I believe that riding the horse must be worse punishment on the back and tush. In a way, walking is actually kinder to your body. And I guess I have trouble giving up control of myself and being at the mercy of the horse and groom. So I walked every single km of the trek, never riding the horse once.

As we neared the end of the climb, Sahji caught up with us. He said, “Just a little bit more. Then you will see a meadow full of the most beautiful flowers. Yakeen maniye, saare dukh dard bhool jaaoge”. As we turned the final corner, there was a sign painted in Hindi which said something like – The flower filled valley of Chhialekh awaits you after your strenuous climb. Finally after almost 3 hours of laborious climbing, we reached the Chhialekh meadow at about 9:30 am.

31 July – Part 6 – Preparations for the Next Day

That night we hung up all our jackets and socks and shoes to dry. Our sacks had arrived by mule. We unpacked, pulled out dry clothes to wear. As we packed our bags and prepared for the next day, almost all of us had the same thought, “Will tomorrow be as bad as today?”

Sahji answered that question in the nightly meeting. “Tomorrow,” he began,” we will again cover a distance of 18 kms.” A collective groan went up. “Plus, in the first 3 kms itself, there is an altitude gain of more than 650m”. What? “So, do not attempt any heroics. Take it at an even and steady pace. But do not loiter. Today’s performance left a lot to be desired. It was the first hard day, so let's make an exception this time. But reaching camp at 7 pm is not what I want to see again. 5 pm is the latest, get it?”

“Can we take a break tomorrow?” a voice piped. “Since we have anyway planned for an extra day in our itinerary”. Sahji looked aghast. “The extra day is for emergencies. And every single day is planned thoroughly in advance. This is not some picnic that you can reschedule according to your choice. Tomorrow you start at 6:45 am and reach Gunji at 5 pm. Period!” Feeling properly chastened, we made a beeline for bed immediately.

31 July: Gala – Budhi Track – Part 5 – Lamari to Budhi

Puran Singh, the guide, was quite ahead of me when he suddenly halted, turned around and beckoned me forward quickly. “Kya hua?”, I asked as I started running. He put a finger on his lips and asked me to be quiet. When I reached him, he was crouching on the ground. He pointed underneath the bushes on the side of the road. I first saw a flash of yellow. Then I saw a little face topped by 2 tiny ears. What a cute cat! I must’ve said that aloud. Puran Singh was scandalized. “Cat! That’s a leopard cub!” he exclaimed! “Wow!” I was fascinated.

I waved my arms to ask the others to hurry up. As 3-4 of the others caught up with us, the cub defiantly stared back at us. But when Puran Singh lifted a few branches to get a photo the cub disappeared into the bushes. I was suddenly struck by a doubt. “Puran Singh, if this cub’s here, where’s his mom?” “Must be round somewhere”, he replied coolly. “What!” I squawked. “Have you gone nuts? We are standing here admiring the cub while his mom must be licking her chops!” I now remembered Man-eaters of Kumaon and Jim Corbett and realized only then that, hell, we are in Kumaon. Brilliant, Watson!

We saw neither hide nor hair of a leopard again. But that evening, the sight of that cute little cub acted like a shot of adrenaline and I literally flew over the track.

But I was stumped when we reached the rock slide. A furious mountain stream had already changed course and was now directly flowing across our route. It was at least 10 feet wide and so fast that to step into it would’ve been suicide. There were 2-3 big rocks jutting out of the water. Puran Singh pushed another rock into the stream close to the edge and jumped onto it. “Now step on this rock when I go to the next one,” he said. “And hurry; there may be a fresh slide any time.” He gave me a hand as I followed him. Sushrut was right behind me. I was scared. Period. The gradient was so steep it was difficult to stand up straight. I kept expecting a rock to fall on my head anytime. The whole ordeal must’ve taken 2 or 3 minutes, but it felt more like hours.

Once we’d crossed the stream, we could see the original track somewhere ahead but there was no way of reaching it directly. Puran Singh told us to descend along the rock slide and climb up zigzag from the river side. “And be quick. Before this thing moves again. Go in twos, don’t wait for anyone else. Stop only after you reach the track. Go!” Sachin and I raced down and then up and finally halted, clutching our sides and panting. We waited only to see the next 2 or 3 heads appear and started moving immediately. We were still far from the camp.

We trudged along the track as it got darker by the minute. Everyone was nearly exhausted. It was only the 2nd day and we had yet to get acclimatized. The Malpa camp being inoperative, there was no option but to cover the distance in one day. By the time we saw the sign post for Budhi, we were at the end of our tether. Even then the camp was a km away. Finally we touched base at 7 pm. The glasses of orange Rasna seemed like nectar.

But the 2 senior members had yet to come. When they arrived at 7.30 pm we gave them a standing ovation.