My love affair with the Himalayas continued and I kept visiting the
mountains every year—Valley of Flowers, Hemkund, Gangotri, Dodital, Mani
Mahesh, Sangla Valley, Badrinath and Roop Kund. Ashok and I had started
trekking in our late fifties and we soon realised that it is a very tough
activity; year after year I found it more and more difficult with the result
that after every trek I would decide to give it up. But the call of the
Himalayas is so great that I would join the trekking group again next year.
When our group decided to go to Roop Kund I
was sure I wouldn’t be able to complete the trek and so had decided not to go
along. But our group members encouraged me to change my mind. Having decided on
the location we studied the map to fix our route. It was like this: from
Rishikesh we were to proceed to Lohajung, the starting point of our trek. From
there we would cover a distance of 27km one way to Roop Kund via Wan, Bedni and
Baguabasa. The height gained would be 8,500ft. The total distance to and fro
would be covered in six days. As we proceeded on the trek our programme had to
be altered many times because of unforeseen circumstances.
We started our tour as
per schedule. At Mumbai Central we were greeted by a refreshing drizzle which
stayed with us for the next three days. After reaching Delhi we hired two jeeps
for the next lap of our journey that would take us to Rishikesh. On the way we
stopped at Sheetal Grand for lunch. A lot of time had elapsed after the
Rajdhani (train) breakfast of soft croissants but there was still time for our
orders to arrive, so we decided to while away the time by taking some
photographs.
From there we reached
Hardwar where we were reminded of the Ganga Puja that we had attended during
our last trek. I could hear chants of Om jaya Gange mata. We would have
loved
to attend the aarti but it was already dusk
and we had to reach Rishikesh before nightfall, so we skipped it this time. I
felt a little sad about that. At Rishikesh we arrived at the GMVN (Garhwal
Mandal Vikas Nigam) hotel where we were greeted by a beautifully manicured
garden. It immediately refreshed us.
The moment we settled
in, our leader started giving us instructions for the trek. They weren’t
difficult to follow and soon a sporting mood prevailed. It was there that we
found out that our organiser had misunderstood our programme and that, as a
result, we would have to start our trek a day later. By consensus we decided to
use the extra day for river rafting and so turned up at the riverbank the next
day. Everybody was thrilled at the decision but the excitement was edged with a
slight fear. What if the raft overturned? The words of our organiser—”You do
not die quickly if you wear a lifejacket,”—were hardly reassuring. Oh my God!
Did that mean it would be a lingering process? Since it is possible to get
drenched completely when a big wave approaches, we were asked to keep our
cameras and watches in a dry bag. Then how would we take pictures? In the end
we decided we would only take photos before and after the rafting. Once in the
raft we passed Ram Jhula and Laxman Jhula, dashed through the rapids, floated
over the big waves and enjoyed the whole experience thoroughly. All along we
were moving the oars forward and backward as per the instructions of the guide
(and as if to the tune of Row, row, row your boat…).
The next day we started
for Lohajung after tea and breakfast. The drizzle that had followed us from
Mumbai was still there but it failed to wash away the enthusiasm of our
members. Ashok fretted over not being able to capture this emotion while
standing in the rain, but I had just the right solution. What was I there for?
So I held an umbrella over him while he shot pictures to capture the real
spirit of our group. On the way to Dev Prayag our vehicle took a halt and we
had snacks at Monal Hotel. Everybody liked the rustic ambience of the hotel on
the banks of the Ganges. The Ganges accompanied us all the way to Dev Prayag.
Here we had a photo session with the Bhagirathi (from this point upwards the
name Ganges changes to Bhagirathi) as we would be going our separate ways from
this point, our new companion being the Alaknanda.
Unstoppable rain, a
drab road…everybody had become a little bored. So the driver decided to make
our journey a little more interesting. He dashed our vehicle against one that
was trying to overtake us which meant that we had to wait at a nearby dhaba
until the drivers arrived at a settlement. This also meant that at Rudra
Prayag, which was to be our regular stop, we had just enough time to take
pictures of the confluence of the Mandakini and Alaknanda.
From Karna Prayag we
had to follow River Pindar up to Lohajung. By now it had started to grow dark.
The road ahead was landslide prone, but with a little daring we decided to
continue our journey. It was difficult to move forward, so we started reciting
Ram Raksha. The driver too had put on an audio cassette of Ganga Avataran. We
somehow reached Dewal, a few kilometres before Lohajung, our scheduled stop. By
now it had become totally dark and there were no lights, making it compulsory
that we halt here. The next day we started after tea. Since some took tea
without sugar, some liked it sweet and others with only a little sugar in
theirs, this morning routine always elicited friendly banter and leg-pulling
throughout our journey. At night there had been a landslide, so a test vehicle was
sent ahead to see whether the road was unblocked. Even though we got the
go-ahead, we still had to face many roadblocks before we reached Lohajung.
Here, we were welcomed by much-needed sunlight. Not only were we happy but even
the flowers and butterflies seemed to sway with joy at the weather.
From Lohajung, Wan is at a distance of
13km and practically reachable by jeep. But since no one had done practice
treks this year, we decided to walk it up. This would also help acclimatise us
with the surrounding area and climate. Along the way we saw many young ladies
carrying haystacks and herding cattle up the hill. They walked long distances
comfortably and easily combated climbs that we found difficult. The hill
children looked innocent and wore smart clothes to go to school. They welcomed
us with a namaste and thanked us for the chocolates they got in return.
There were many streams
along the way, some swollen because of the constant rain of two consecutive
days. In some places they gushed down big boulders with incredible force. Ashok
was constantly taking pictures of these streams and it was but natural that we
would soak up some of their vigour. It would have been impossible to cross them
if the wooden bridges (if you can call them that) had not been there. Also
accompanying us were deodars, chirs, horse chestnuts laden with fruits and, of
course, my favourite, rhododendrons. At Wan, to get acclimatised with the
surroundings, we went to the nearby hill in the evening where, hidden among the
deodars, oaks and birches, was a temple of Latoo Devi.
The next day having said goodbye to Wan,
we proceeded to Bedni Bugyal, 12km away. Bugyal is Garhwali for
meadow.
The road,
though not very easy, was not tiring either because of the picturesque views it
had to offer. It was our plan to start the trek at seven in the morning and
reach our designated lunch point at around ten, but the faster ones among us
reached that point quite early and so, instead of stopping there, they proceeded
ahead. At this point the tree line ended and we entered the colourful world of
flowers. Our organiser Nautiyal had planned to break for lunch at lunch point
and then reach Bedni by 2-2.30pm. In the Himalayas it is necessary to complete
your trek by 2.30pm after which the climate changes dramatically and it starts
snowing. But our trekkers, including some ladies, proved him wrong, reaching
Bedni well before the scheduled time. There our leader engaged us in erecting
tents and before we knew it, beautiful tents stood proudly on the meadow. From
Bedni we could see Nanda Ghunti, Trishul and Badrinath peaks.
The grass was soft and pleasing to the
eyes and walking barefoot on it was a rare pleasure. In the evening we decided
to explore the surrounding areas in the fast-fading light and got lost in the
play of light and shade over the mountain ranges. There is a neat little temple
nearby, nothing fancy, just one stone on top of another. Though we did not get
the name of the deity we did come across a Bengali group worshipping it. The
sound of the bell added to the pious environment of the temple. Nearby there
was a pond called Bedni Kund. There we sat, for a long time, appreciating the
reflection of the clouds as they descended down the mountains as if to see
themselves in the mirror of the lake. Soon it was sunset time and the sun cast
orange hues on the mountains, as if setting them on fire. This fire did not
last long. Soon the embers became cooler and then chillingly cold. To beat the
cold we hit upon a novel idea of playing inter-tent antakshari.
Bedni lake
The second day at Bedni
was reserved to enable us to get acquainted with the climate. Our plan was to
go to Ali Bugyal situated close to Bedni. The trek required only half a day, so
we got up late and enjoyed morning tea in beautiful sunlight. The next lap
after Bedni was quite difficult and required practice, so we thought of having
a good warm-up session. Then we proceeded towards Ali Bugyal. As always I was
the last one to reach. Trekking in the Himalayas is a group activity. The team
has to work together and in coordination with each other. After reaching our
destination we saw innumerable sheep grazing in the area. Their numbers are
growing, dangerously so, and we found evidence of that practically everywhere
in the Himalayas. We also encountered some Garhwali women and it was a wonder
to see the ladies in our group mingling with them. On our way back we met a
young Garhwali couple and their newborn, a lamb, a bundle of soft cotton that
immediately melted everybody’s heart.
We hit the road to
Baguabasa up and early the next day. This stretch was 9km long and difficult
but with some eye-catching views. At this point the mountains are all covered
with golden grass, the kind New Zealanders call Barbie doll hair. The road was
serpentine and with many ascents and descents, the kind that lifts or droops
your spirits. The road, though, passed through a colourful array of flowers,
almost as if somebody had played Holi there. Big, red leaves especially caught our
attention. They find their way from underneath rocks and sway with the wind and
are used by the locals to make chutney. It is indeed a pleasure to see such a
beautifully painted canvass, its colour scheme of the kind that only the
almighty can visualise. After climbing to a considerable height we arrived at a
plateau. Like in Bedni, here too there was a temple of piled up stones. I bowed
my head in front of this Kelva Ganesh and prayed for help in the face of
difficulties that I may have to face while experiencing the magic of the
Himalayas. A
slight drizzle started, mist began spreading its cover and in a minute the view
became invisible. It was difficult to gauge if we were going in the right
direction. Soon it cleared a little (and so did our doubts) and we lay our eyes
on a cluster of tents hidden behind some stones. As we walked towards them, a
faint sweet fragrance assailed us and as we wondered where it was coming from,
we saw the kamals. Fenkamal is like a swab of cotton, neelkamal
is blue, himakamal is like snowflakes and brahmakamal is green
and resembles a cauliflower. The evening at Baguabasa was mostly engulfed in
mist. Here we had to share a single tent amongst four people, which may be why we spent most
of the time outdoors. Dr Rajput and some others were busy collecting waghnakhi,
an Ayurvedic herbal medicine. But by late evening, it had grown colder and
though we were provided with feather coats, we were forced to get into our
tents early. Hot dal chawal topped with a hot cup of Milo sent us to
sleep.
