Bird Watching

It starts with the initial human enthrallment for the winged creature. The winged creature’s ability to soar up in the sky on it’s own seems magical to the child who is unable to achieve it even after reaching adult age. While advancement in science and mechanics has allowed homo sapiens to overcome the impossibility of flying, this is also thanks to the availability of material resource from Mother Nature. Thus the small innocent child looks in wonder as the winged creature flutters around him escaping his vain and puny attempts to grasp it.

The budding relation of humans and their fascination for birds, when nurtured; slowly grows into a passion for all natural resource and reverence the rich abundance that mother nature lavishes on it’s dependents. For the slow learner like me, whose curiosity and fascination for birds was ignored till adulthood, it is sudden dawning to be inducted into a magical realm that was lost in the rat race.

The simple hobby of bird watching is not simple, as it seems. While binoculars are a handy tool, it takes internal resource like patience, perseverance, stillness, stealth-ness, keen eyesight and focus to be able to follow the movement of a bird and be able to identify it correctly. Again, bird-watching can involve staying away for days from civilization & modern luxuries sometimes in open plains, sometimes in tents and caves. One has to trek and discard all amenities for a keener outlook into the world of birds. With doggedness of pursuit, the budding ornithologist is incited to the vast arena that surrounds the habitat and movement of birds.

To his satisfaction, the Indian enthusiast can take pride in the statistics that determine 13% of world’s birds to be present in Indian subcontinent. Owing to it’s wide altitudinal range extending from sea level up to summit of Himalayas, as well as the region’s highly varied climate and diversity of vegetation, the Indian subcontinent is very rich in bird species.

Delving deeper into this riveting study, the hobbyist soon confronts the threat that affects his hobby. He comprehends that habitat loss and deterioration are detrimental to the threat and even extinction of birds. Contributing factors to exploitation of habitat and natural resource include poverty, over-population, government, national debts, international policies and a high demand from first world countries for forest resource of third world. The increasing hydroelectric development alters dynamics of the entire river eco-system of the region while drainage, siltation of wetland, sewage and industrial effluent add to the misery. Use of pesticide in agriculture has proved to be particularly poisonous to the birds. Pesticide getting trickled from land to the river soon contaminates the river thereby affecting fish and fish eating birds. While hunting of birds for food is not a major threat everywhere, illegal bird trading within the continent and for exports can traumatize the avid ornithologist.

For the passive onlooker who is not inducted into the fascinating world of bird watching and who is trapped in the rat race the entire threat is dismissed as hogwash. Indeed, I have myself dismissed stories of environmental threats on the assumption that it does not concern me now as an individual. Yet, as my relations with birds improve, looking at each bird, I’m subtly reminded of the role that I play in denying myself of paradise. After all the paradise notion that was cultivated in every mortal brain was always depicted as a land of abundant trees and birds!!

Innocent as it may seem, there is certainly more to the seemingly insignificant act of bird-watching than the eye can behold (literally also).

You would like a holiday,

You do not have to go far away.

Watch the birds chirp and fly;

Watch your spirits soar high.

You would like to be in paradise

“Preserve Forest”, heed the bird’s cries.

Let the forest grow and expand

Behold paradise in this land.

Caving In North East India

I can still remember the most exciting, the most awkward and the most unforgettable moment of my life when Gregory a experienced cave explorer looked at a river vanishing into the mountain and said to me this is the entrance to Krem Chympe!
It was my holiday time which is usually between christmas and new year, typically spent shopping during the day and partying or working at nightclubs filled with smoke, wild drunk girls and wanna-be-gangsta boys kicking off with someone. But not this year, this year I knew I would be spending my holiday ‘differently’. I wanted to explore a new world, experience a new adventure, be lost in the wilderness and do all that stuff that a lonely planet guide book would ‘recommend’.
I did not go too far looking for options as alI I had to do was call Jayesh from Odati Adventures and surrender myself to his expert advice and recommendation, believe me thats all it takes to get a great holiday… and of course some cash to cover your food and accommodation which is basic… well I assume if you wanted plush accommodation you would probably stay at Hyatt wont you?
Would you like to go Speilunking asked Jayesh and to that question I had another question… WHAT IS THAT? He said its caving, we can go explore some large cave network in hills of north east India and not many people have done that yet. I knew nothing about caves (Not that i know a lot about them now, except that they can be intimidating and beautiful at the same time). The only vision of caves I had was from a hollywood movie The Cave and the trailer flashed in front of my eyes. I immediately logged on to my bank account, transferred the money and got myself a place on this not so common holiday trip. Soon I was on that flight to North East of India (Note- for people not familiar with India, I must tell you India is a big country almost size of entire Europe… hence the flight!).
I reached Guwhati airport from where I was supposed to meet the rest of the troop and head to Shillong the capital of Meghalaya. I must mention Piran Elavia a co-organiser of this trip who is a specialist of North East region, another vagabond who loves nature and knows a lot about butterflies. I am sure I must have impressed him with my knowledge on butterflies, its just that I cannot remember the correct names in correct sequence for the correct species but I do share the same enthusiasm.
This is where I start my story – Caving the good, the bad and the ugly.
Caving story – The Good:
let me start from the last day of my caving trip because that was the most overwhelming and unforgettable experience for me, we set out early morning to kreme chympe kreme meaning cave in khasi and chympe is the local name to this magnificent natural cave. We were guided by Greggory a experienced caver who told us we have to hike over hills and forest for atleast 3hours to reach the cave entrance but the excitement of getting there got us to the entrance in some 1hr 15mins but that doesnt even catch my notice because what I was looking at in front of me made me question or reconfirm my capabilities to even be here.
Gregory pointed at a large depression on a hill covered with thick forest and a river disappearing into it and said this is the entrance to kreme chimpe. And we have to swim for about 15 meters from the entrance to get into the cave. I had wet suit, cave suit and a life jackets on for safety but Iam not sure if it was safety concern or anxiety to swim across to enter a different world that got my heart beating louder than a bloody harley davidson engine.

Piran took the lead and swam across followed by Jayesh and then it was me. It must have been only fifteen meter of water filled entrance but it was almost like a doorway to world of Narnia. I love swimming but this was something else, so surreal and out of the world experience which unfortunately cannot be worded.
We reached a dry platform where we could have a good look at where we were or atleast attempt to look at, as our lights could not reach either the ceiling or the next passage the sheer size of this cave cavity brought back images of all the sci-fi stories and games I had played. So in less than 5 minutes I was Agent 47 of Hitman then Master Chief of Halo3 and Kratos from God of War.
I was about to get my camera out when Gregory told me we have to continue swimming for another 150 meters in patches… It couldn’t get better than this…I said to myself and took to the water immediately. As we moved along the waterway our cave guide was describing features of the caves which was very interesting then he said there are a lot of cave fish here so keep looking you may see some. Since I was swimming in the middle of the waterway which was supposed to be deep, I cast my light below to see If I could see any cave fish but there was nothing visible except deep dark gorge. Suddenly I imagined a creature from the underworld coming out of the gorge at a lightning speed and taking us all down under! Silly me I told myself and started noticing the beautiful formation around me instead, It must have millions of years for these caves to form and the glittering mineral deposits that make the cave look like a treasure chest have taken their time to form. Its all work of patience.

After reaching a solid platform we started to hike up to see more of stalactites and stalagmites. Yes it is a bit funny when you say you have to hike up inside a cave but that is exactly what we did, we hiked and climbed across many boulders and sharp rocks making sure we don’t destroy any of the cave corals, cave curtains, stalactites or stalagmites. It was almost like climbing a small hill so that should give you an idea of how big that cave is. I took my camera out and started to click some pictures but it proved to be difficult task as the high levels of moisture fogged up my lens every two minutes and the vast vacuum of the cave made it impossible to focus on anything. Soon I realised something was not right… I looked around  Jayesh, Piran and Gregory were not insight they vanished into the darkness, I quickly packed my camera back in the waterproof container and followed faint sound coming from a steep ventilation shaft. I bet the guys found something very interesting there so I speedily follow what looked like a trail and enter the shaft that led to another big chamber which was filled with countless limestone candles – formation of Stalagmite Column which looks like a melting candle and not to mention certain patches of cave floor were filled with whats called cave pearls shining bright like stars on our milky way. It was impossible to believe that this was a natural creation in fact it looked like a movie set of some mythical story. I wanted to be there a bit longer to get some decent pictures of this chamber but Gregory had to usher us out as we were racing against time, it would get dark soon and we had a long walk to transport and a short drive to came after.

A day before krem chympe. We were exploring a beautiful but not as massive cave as chympe but The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus comes alive in here. I can only make a attempt to describe the beauty of this cave, It was like being in chamber filled with gold dust with tall stalactites and stalagmites standing there as silent guardians of this treasure. Hours passed by as minutes and were told to head back as we had to reach the camp before night fall… This is where I begin my Caving story – The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

Check out My Caving photos on FB 

Caving story – The Bad.

As I say goodbye to the silent guardians of the cave and head out from the narrow passage leading out in the open, I saw some people with power drills and some heavy machine tools out side the cave. Everyone’s heart sank as this needed no explanation, the men with the machines were out here to begin mining for coal and the power drills were to set dynamites so they could blast this site to bits. I never had such a high and a low feeling in one day and knowing we couldn’t do anything to stop those men made us feel more helpless and frustrated.
We spent the rest of the evening and following morning talkng about the mining and deforestation problem but could not figure out anyway around it, this region was blessed with natural beauty and then cursed by human greed and now its all about waiting till the time human greed consumes it all.
But who do we blame? The miners? The miners say we are only supplying to the demand. And the demand is from you, me and our lifestyle. Our lifestyle is mainly dictated by our needs and convenience and we can go to any extent to make ourselves believe that without these conveniences we wont be able to survive.
Talk about plastic bags for example, most city dwellers act as if its impossible to have a life without plastic bag whereas plastic bags have been invented only 50 years back and have been in wide use since only 30 years but we act as if we it is impossible to have a normal life without them and not using them is compromising on comfort. What about electricity? It is the main cause why mining is carried out. Can we not save electricity or use it sensibly? I have known many friends who do not turn off their TV or PC ever because it is a “bit of a pain” to switch it on every time you want to use it. Many of us keep our mobile phones on charge the whole night when actually you only need couple of hours of charging.

Caving story – The Ugly

Mining is a big problem around the world and for a place like Meghalaya its highly uncontrolled and growing at a very fast pace. The only thing that this region has is its natural resource and beauty which once finished plundering will be nothing less than a barren land. The mining lobby treats the land like a prostitute and exploits all that it has and would leave when there is nothing more to exploit and locals who call this land home will be left like the orphans of the prostitute nowhere to go. Without a doubt the government will be blamed for not taking care of them and there will be more political unrest and more funds will be sanctioned to ‘help’ the region not to mention the money leaking out into pockets of corrupt officials.
Gregory told me that they had filed petition to high court to curb mining in the region but the court dismissed the petition saying its for local people’s development. But I didnot see any locals working at the mines, there were workers from Nepal and Bangladesh who work there. I am going to stop writing about this here because I dont even want to think of the ‘The Ugly’ side of this story, hopefully some of us can do something about it or at least support someone who is doing something about it.
Tourism can change things around in this region, when the locals benefit more from planting trees than cutting them down and miners earn more money working as a cave guide rather than in mines. One person worth a mention here is the owner of Cherrapunji Resorts… Cherrapunji  was our next destination after caving in Jaintia hills, I would recommend this place to anyone who fancies visiting Cherrapunji, a word of caution! Its not a very fancy resort nor is it very exotic and traditional in fact when you walk in, the place looks like any other functional guest house sort. The reason I give it a special mention is because the man who runs this place. He has put several years to make local community realise that their land is beautiful and if they keep it beautiful, people form around the world will come and visit them. He has been laughed at and ridiculed but now he is probably the most respected man in whole of Cherrapunji. The resort has a large dinning area which looks like a very basic lodge diner but when you start paying attention on the information bits thats put up on the wall you may loose track of time. From folklore to facts, from flora fauna to local traditions, the wall has everything to catch your fancy.
You can also request for books on birds and insect If you fancy looking up something that you came across on one of your treks around the resort. You will find some scribbled notes in his diary that mentions names of species with the year and time when it was spotted around by him or his visitors. Clouded leopard one of the rarest creatures to be found made it to his diary, unfortunately he did not see it himself but some locals reported having seen one in the vicinity. Pope’s Pit Viper a very uncommon snake was mentioned too. If animals and birds dont interest you then there are a lot of day activities that you can challenge yourself to depending on your interest and fitness level but I would definitely  recommend a trek to see Double Deccker Root bridge. The one of a kind clever example of Bio-engineering, technique used for many years by locals to cross rivers in monsoon that become very dangerous because of fast moving turbulent water.

 

 After we trekked to our heart’s content we all head back to Guwahati airport to get on the flight back to Mumbai and as we reached Guwahati, I had a different plan … TBC

Kirti Chavan

Of Mountains and Folklore

I believe that urban ‘superstitions’ had some logical basis once upon a time….its just that those logics don’t apply to the current situation anymore. And hence you tend to ignore them. But when you travel closer to nature, deep in its interiors and you hear certain folklores……somehow you don’t want to tamper with them. Many people listen to them as that only i.e. folk tales and forget about them. But I find them fascinating and mysterious. And I believe always, always told in order to respect and protect nature.

The first interesting one that I heard was on the trek to Dzongri in Sikkim. We had reached the base of the Dzongri peak and were getting excited about going up to the peak in the wee hours to see the sunrise. The sunrise there is said to be spectacular and pinkish in colour. In the night the guide told us quietly….that if a person is a sinner, he or she won’t be able to see the sunrise on Kanchendzonga. We saw a muted sunrise as the clouds floated in and out. On our way back, the same guide pointed to a group of foreign trekkers of a particular country and said that they are not good people and they will never be able to see the sunrise. Lo and behold, a storm engulfed us the very same night.

A very fascinating folklore exists in GHNP. The final destination of our trek was to the origin of the river Tirthan in Bhuindari. On our second day just before our climb started, there was a tree filled with stuff made of iron. The guides refused to go ahead without lighting incense there. For our safe return, they informed us. Anyway….this is not the fascinating folklore I was talking about. There are two glacial lakes in Bhuindari from which the Tirthan originates. Women are not allowed to go near them or see them. Men can go to only one lake….the other remains untouched by human hands…in its very pure form. It’s the only other place in India where Brahma, the Creator is worshipped and rightly so. We womenfolk stayed away.

Monal, the state bird of HP is brilliant and elusive. The locals say that when God created the Monal, all the birds of the world presented it with one of their feathers. That’s why you can see every possible colour in that bird.

My favourite folklore however is about a place where I have not been yet – the Valley of Flowers. This valley was hidden from humans for a long time. It was only in the 1930s that a British mountaineer stumbled upon it. The locals however knew about this valley but refused to go there ever believing it to be visited by fairies. They say that if you enter their dwelling place, the fairies will carry you away. Some believe that that’s how the female botanist from England also died there. Even now the locals refuse to go into the interiors of the park which remains off bound to humans. And yes….I do believe in fairies!

In the grueling trek to Tso-Moriri in Ladakh, bad weather followed us constantly making us change our plans everyday. Out of pure frustration, B a fellow trekker started abusing the mountains. J and I jumped on him and immediately told him to stop. It’s a cardinal sin to curse nature especially when you are out there in nature…for nature. Why do we forget that we don’t and can’t ever control nature? It is nature that always controls us.
And then there are the prayer flags…it’s not a folklore but I simply love the concept. The prayers written on the flags flutter in the wind and gets carried up to heaven. Up there standing on top of the world, with nature in its purest form……it’s simple to believe that the prayers will always reach the right ears.

Odati Oddities

Trips with Odati are rarely short on entertainment, something or someone (with initials J M ?) attracts eccentrics of every kind.

Kooky K : K is the absent-minded forgetful kind, the type that puts his mobile phone into the washing machine by mistake and then switches it on – the machine, that is, not the phone.

K is also the obstinate type. He once wore really – short – almost – absent – shorts while trekking in a mosquito infested area and refused to use Odomos in spite of Jayesh’ repeated admonishments. K’s stated reason - “Odomos is only for women” ! I suppose he also believed ‘mard ko dard nahin hota’, a principle that was quickly disproved after he got bitten to bits. Rather unreasonably, he failed to understand why none of the women expressed any sympathy for him.

[Rule 1 of trekking with Odati : Those who disobey Jayesh do so at their own peril.]

‘Ncouraging N : Then there’s N, one of the group leaders on a monsoon trek to Prabalgad on a day it poured torrentially. By evening, all of us were soaked, bone-tired and running low on energy. We cheered up as we finished our descent and realized that we had just one tiny stream and a 20 minute walk between us and the vehicle which would bear us speedily towards hot tea and steaming pakodas. Our slow plodding steps had just regained some of their bounce and vigour when we rounded a curve in the path and gasped in horror – the babbling brook that we remembered had morphed into a frothing rage of water that would reach higher than our waists as we crossed.

While us city-bred folk fretted about losing our lives, N had his own worries that we selfishly ignored. Not for long though. Being a true-blue Bawa, N could not but speak his mind. While J fussed about helping everyone link hands and then cross, N loudly voiced his concern that one of us (paying customers, mind you) would pee out of fear while we were crossing the stream and he would end up standing in soiled water ! Now that’s perspective - Where you see a scary death by drowning, another sees only the dinginess of ….ugh…. soiling !

[Rule 2 of trekking with Odati :A reality check is never far away.]

Resplendent R : And how could I forgot R ? For his first high altitude trek, he chose to turn up with two hold-alls, one of which had a zip that could not be closed ! Apparently he had spoken to people who trekked regularly and none of them had classified a backpack as a necessity. On the other hand, good ol’ R’s friends and well-wishers had focused on the necessity of managing without a bath for days on end. As they say, forewarned is forearmed, and R was sufficiently prepared with about 10 pairs of knee-length cotton shorts, each of which had bright candy stripes in pink, orange etc. Even the rhodendrons and the hornbills we saw could not match R’s colourful flamboyant style !

[Rule 3 of trekking with Odati : Positive Attitude and fun are non-negotiable, all else can be managed somehow.]

A pseud person who spoke the Queen’s English with a clipped accent, nevertheless a loyal son of the soil from Bihar, R felt an indefinable bond with every Bihari he met. Somehow he seemed to meet them all - grocers, barbers, waiters, a guy running a lodge etc, and he could never resist a ten minute chat with each of them. R loved discussing intricate details of his newfound friend’s life – his native place, schooling, his children, their education, which bus they caught to go to the school nearest the village etc etc. We shamelessly eavesdropped on these chats, it was almost a cultural exchange program hearing the two accents collide and communicate – one rough and colloquial, the other refined and speaking in shuddhh textbook Hindi.

Single S : S was single and eligible and the group decided that one of the objectives of a two week high-altitude ‘mission’ in the Himalayas was to find him a pretty bride. J in particular favoured someone whose parents owned an STD booth in a small town. Not only would S be able to live in such a beautiful place forever as a ghar-jamai, but his friends from Odati would also get free boarding and lodging. In J’s opinion, the deal-clincher was the fact that whenever S felt homesick, he could make FREE STD calls to his Mum !

[Rule 5 : The hearing of PJs will be as frequent as the sighting of greenery or mountains.
Rule 5. addendum 1. He who cracks the worst joke shall be the guy or girl Jayesh likes the most.
Rule 5. addendum 2. Often Jayesh will crack the worst joke (he has a whole repertoire of corny ones). In that case, addendum 1 refers to the worst but one joke]

Movie-star M : You and I would consider M’s looks fairly average, but he thought otherwise and never felt entirely free of the fan following and paparazzi that followed him everywhere, even on a high altitude trek. During one dangerous river crossing, he almost got swept away, but managed to hold tight to a rope with one hand and was pulled to safety by the porters. You or I, average people, would reach shore and our first impulse would be to thank God for sparing us and to hug the porters who pulled us to safety. But M was not made for such mundane reactions. On reaching the shore, the first thing he did was to dig deep into his pockets, unearth a small comb and quickly brush his untidy hair into submission. He then turned and waved nonchalantly for the benefit of his anxious friends on the opposite bank and the assembled (imaginary) paparazzi.

[Rule 4. Be ready to achieve fame of a sort on a trek with Odati – stories deemed worthy are retold to other trekkers for years.]

By,
Zen (Read more by Zen at http://entropymuse.blogspot.com)

In Anticipation

(waiting for the rains)

Monsoon is the best time for trekking in the Sahayadris. Though the rain makes the downhill route slippery and a bit tricky to negotiate, it is more than made up by the rain – drenched hills shrouded in mist, the clouds and the numerous small waterfalls and streams that spring up all over.

I went with Odati on two perfect monsoon treks last year – to Manikgad and Surgad. Both were short hikes and just right for a relaxed Sunday – a 3.5 hr amble uphill at Manikgad and a 2.5 hr walk at Surgad. The only patch of slightly difficult terrain was the the last patch at Surgad which is steep and slippery and requires concentration. While the rain evaded us at Manikgad, in Surgad we got caught in a downpour that was full ‘paisa-vasool’ and thoroughly enjoyed it. Both treks had lush greenery and long wavy grass rippling in the breeze.

Both places we had a local guide in addition to the Odati team; apart from showing us the way, they added to overall entertainment levels with their eccentric personalities. I have a sneaky suspicion, though, that these villagers might have a similar reason for agreeing to guide us – not for the money, but to observe these wimpy weird townfolk and have funny stories to tell their families over dinner.

The Maamaa at Manikgad was strong ‘n silent and quite a disciplinarian. On the way up the final portion, whenever we halted to catch our breath, he would stop ahead of us, look down at us and make clicking noises with his teeth to hurry us up – the kind villagers make to hurry along cattle in the fields ! Like all such maamaa’s I have seen, the fact that we were paying him made no difference to his bindaas attitude and behaviour. As we had oodles of time to enjoy the view from the peak, we intended to snooze for about an hour after eating lunch but he would have none of it. He woke us up in 20-30 minutes and herded us down, saying that he was worried it would soon rain heavily. As he had earlier confidently predicted a dry morning when we thought dark clouds heralded rain, we decided he might be right this time too and clambered down the hill lickety-split.

The Maamaa at Surgad had even more impressive weather prediction skills. A lean, stringy weather-beaten guy over 70 monsoons old, he would predict when it would rain down to the last half hour (maybe the MET office should hire him!) and his reading of the clouds was right more often than not. He was as much of a disciplinarian as the Manikgad Maamaa, but his style was to shame you into hurrying, rather than to herd you. Halfway up the hill, when we stopped for 5-10 minutes at a nice meadow, he proudly told us that he could ascend and descend the hill in less than an hour, which was less than the time it had taken us to reach the halfway point; you can bet we walked faster after that.

All these Monsoon maamaa’s interpret suggestions of alternative routes as mutiny and tend to mulishly insist that you take exactly the path they prefer – maybe it comes from a lifetime of being the undisputed head of the family and getting unquestioning obedience. Our Surgad maamaa had the same attitude towards dissent, except that he was also an expert at psychological warfare. When he didn’t want to climb right to the very peak, rather than argument and obstinacy, he used the tell-tales-of-townsfolk-who-would-not-listen-and-suffered-painful-accidents solution. Quite a storyteller, he relished multiple retellings of the tale of women from Mumbai getting stuck at the peak during a downpour, almost falling all the way down while descending and finally having to be lowered down on ropes. He was quite effective too, we convinced ourselves that the hills, the fort walls and the stone relics scattered around were sufficient adventure and there couldn’t be anything better to see at the peak.

By,
Zenobia

What to do at Tawang

....Apart from the usual visit to the monastery and to the Bum La Pass.

Visit the Ani Gompa (monastery for female monks). Unlike the main Tawang monastery whose presence dominates the town and which has bright yellow roofs that are visible from a distance, the Ani Gompa is tucked away discreetly on a hillside away from the town.

Drive around aimlessly over the hills just outside town. Notice army presence, also old bunkers scattered on the hills, realize how close and fragile the border is over here. Then visit the war memorial in the centre of town – it commemorates the soldiers that died during the 1962 war with China.


















Visit Hotel Maa for a meal or a snack – awesome rasmalai and yummy parathas.

Visit the small music shops and ask for their own selection of English / Hindi music. These guys record eclectic mixtures of songs and music styles that make for great listening while travelling. You never know which song is going to play next, the unexpected melodies match the adventure waiting around the next turn.

Just walk around town. Notice the contrast between the expanse of the blue sky, the towering white mountains in the distance, and bunches of tiny red and orange flowers growing on the balconies of the houses nearby.

One of the photographs at the exhibition at Ravindra Natya Mandir in Mumbai captured exactly this scene and prompted this post. If, like me, you haven’t trekked in a while, an hour spent gazing at the photographs at the exhibition and exchanging memories of treks with friends is well worth it. Of course, it will result in a lot of wasted time the next day while you gaze at snaps on Jayesh’ facebook account and schedule your next trek etc.

By,
Zen
(read more posts by Zen at http://entropymuse.blogspot.com)

Adventure in High Mountains

The trek promised of adventure from the very beginning….only we never read the signs. For me it was an ill-gotten holiday and by the time I was ready to leave for Chandigarh, Jayesh declared that the team of some 10-12 trekkers had now dwindled down to just 5 guys and me.

Trouble started on our jeep ride from Manali to Kibber. A rocky ride led us to a gateway in the middle of nowhere, welcoming us to Spiti. Nature, as if taking cue from this, also made its presence felt. Just as we crossed the gate, our heads throbbed painfully due to the lack of oxygen in air. And by the time we reached Kibber, the starting point of the 9days trek to Tso Moriri in Ladakh, my condition was so severe that I had made up my mind to abandon the trek.

Acclimatization day: Jayesh puked. I mean Jayesh puked! If that could happen to him, then I didn’t think I had any chance.

Day 1: Bright and fresh with no headaches. Trek begins. Down and up a valley under a hot open sky. It was a long walk to the green Thaltak meadow, our camp. When M didn’t reach even after an hour we panicked. A guide was sent and M came back lips parched, white and dry. He was dehydrated.

Day 2: We took it slow and steady. Just as we neared the base camp of ParangLa Pass at 17500ft, we spied ominous dark clouds on the horizon.

Day 3: The dreaded 1000ft+ climb to cross the Pass. Taking even 10 steps was an effort. Our breathing was labored and headaches returned with a vengeance. Jayesh was struck and had to be carried over by a mule. It took us 4 hours to reach the pass. But when we did, it was to see the most breathtaking sight ever…..a sweeping panorama of snow-covered peaks. We camped at the base of a glacier.


Day 4: We had overslept due to exhaustion. It was 9 in the morning by the time we got ready to cross the stream which was by this time in full flow. M tried to cross but was swept off by the current. The guide grabbed him at the nick of time and hauled him to the other side. This left us with only one option….climbing the slippery glacier and then crossing over to the other side. We held on to a rope, jumped crevasses and gushing rivulets and rappelled down the other side and greeted M like a long lost brother.

Day 5: We got ready at 5 in the morning to cross the river again. The water was bone numbing cold and I lost sensation of legs within minutes. It was then I realized how easily M could have become hypothermic. It was hours of walking and I was on the verge of panic before sensation on my feet returned. The cloud which was hovering in the background caught up with us forcing us to camp in a hurry.

Day 6: We woke up to hysterical laughter from the other tent and peeped outside to see a horrendous sight. What we hadn’t realized was that we had camped in a trough and it had rained the whole night. Now the whole area had become mud slush and our belongings were floating in it. Rain played hide and seek with us as we hurried along the trail fearing mudslides. We went to sleep while a lone wolf howled in the distance.

Day 7: The clouds fleeted in and out. A mare and her filly grazed freely on a grassy knoll. An aggressive looking Changpa shepherd crossed us with his flock of hundreds of sheep carrying rice in pouches on their backs. We camped at Norbu Sumdo, the last site before crossing over to Ruphsu Valley. The wind was howling but it didn’t deter the boys from playing cricket with a rolled up plastic ball. While everybody settled in for the night, I stayed outside gazing up at the trillions of stars and the Milky Way so prominent in the sky. I felt humble and tiny in front of God’s amazing creation.

Day 8: It was a glorious day. The clouds were gone leaving the mountains sprinkled with fresh snow and the sky a deep shade of blue. We had to cross the river one final time before entering the valley. This we did by huddling together to fortify ourselves against the current. A long agonizing walk over a dry, pebbled river bed took us to the exquisite Tso-Moriri…our destination. A herd of kiangs grazed nearby. The Lake mesmerized us as it changed colors along with the sun. From sparkling blue, to sea-green, grey and then back to blue-green again. The water fed by the freshly melting glacier was as clear as glass and the lake appeared divine and mystical.

Day 9: The last day’s walk was a long 24kms along the lake’s shore. Ducks waded in the lake creating the tiniest ripples, clouds gathered and then blew away like a film in fast forward mode creating the most amazing patterns on ground, strong winds pushed us about and yet we walked silently – awe struck by the unimaginable beauty. My left leg was cramped from hip to feet but Korzok, our final destination never seemed nearer. At one point, tired, cramped and dirty I gave in to my feminine urges and cried shamelessly.
We were almost at break point when we reached Korzok in the evening to loud cheers.

Back in Leh, as I scrubbed off 10 days of dirt and grime I was overwhelmed by a desire to go back again. To the barren mountains and snow covered peaks, the beautiful pristine lake, the freedom of the Changpa nomad and the mare grazing on knoll, the cry of a lone wolf and a star studded sky. The hardships and adventure at every turn had enhanced our experience further showing us the reality that is nature….in its full glory.

I had lost a drastic 9 kilos on this trek but in return I gained an experience which can never be repeated anywhere in the world.