Continued from Part-1.
The 21st of May — The first trail on legs — Dhak Village to Gulling Point campsite — A sumptuous dinner and sore legs for the night.
With twisted questions, I asked, directly and indirectly, the experienced in our batch if I can trek this and summit. With this being our first trek in the Himalayas, I wanted some assurance that this was well within my abilities. The medical kit served as additional hope.
After a short ride to the tip of the Dhak village, we got down with our rucksacks. The porters loaded our luggage onto the mules, and we began our hike up a dusty road. The road leads to a hillock, and gradually our trek had begun. The path went through villages and cultivated farms. As we gained altitude, we could spot several mountain peaks surrounding us. Within a couple of hours, the civilization was far behind as we entered a thick forest of tall trees. We crossed over few small streams bridged by fallen tree trunks. While we were halfway through the trek, a girl was carried down the hill in a makeshift stretcher by four porters; the altitude must have played its game. We crossed our fingers and prayed to the skies. I was huffing and puffing after the last steep climb to the Gulling Point, our campsite for the night.
The trek leader and his companions allotted us our tents which overlooked far mountains and valleys down below. The trek guide briefed us about our next day’s hike in the mess tent. We retired to our allocated tents after a filling dinner. The temperature dipped quickly, and soon, darkness enveloped the campsite. We wished each other a good night, and I silently snuggled into the sleeping bag wishing that a little more cardio would have been a great help during our trek.
The 22nd of May — Gulling Point to Khullara — A picturesque campsite.
The morning golden light pierced through the tent to wake us up. We stretched our legs, freshened up, and sipped a hot cup of tea in the comfort of our tents. After a quick breakfast, we started on the trail to Khullara, which would be our campsite for the next two days.
The vegetation and trees became sparse, opening to the blue skies throughout. The last stretch was a narrow path between small boulders and the rocky trail leading to a flat ground where various teams had pitched tents. The campsite offered a pleasant 360 deg view of the mountains all around. A small stream ran cutting between the camp, dotted with tiny white and yellow flowers on either side of the bank. At the far end of the campsite, shepherds, nomads along with their herd of sheep, and goats camped on the yellowish-green meadows. A small pack of husky look-alike sheepdogs stood guard at their camps.
Khullara is a place where one wishes to build a small cabin, live far away from the city life and watch the dawn and dusk, day in and day out. We spent the rest of the afternoon hopping from one viewpoint to another. It drizzled in the evening, and the temperature plummeted.
At the mess tent, the trek leader instructed about tomorrow’s trek. The plan was to start at 4 am on the following morning. With the summit in mind and not enough warmth inside the tent, we had trouble sleeping through the night.
The 23rd of May — The summit day — The elusive summit — The coldest night — The dream as a kid to witness the milky way came true.
We assembled at the mess tent after the morning chores. The menu for breakfast was short; noodles, tea, and corn flakes. We packed fruits, some snacks, and candies in a day pack and lined up outside the tent to begin our trek. Other teams were already on the trail. The headlamps of the trekkers lit the path up the mountains in the dark.
The trek began with a steep ascent for an hour and later leveling and curving around a hill. The sun slowly slides above the tall mountain brightening the entire scape. While we trekked up the mountains, we witnessed the color change from gold to yellow to white. We hiked up and down numerous times, glancing peaks and valleys. Only wild grass, shrubs, and tiny flowers grew along the path.
At the end of the ridge overlooking Kuari pass, Manasa and I decided to turn around to the base camp after about 4 hours into the trek, foreseeing that the descend would be difficult. We started retracing our route back to the campsite. The rest of the team had progressed well towards the peak. During our descent, we experienced a mild hailstorm. We took several photographs and leisurely walked down to the campsite. The summit remained elusive.
Nanda and five others from our group touched the summit when high winds and snow dust had caught up, bringing down the visibility.
At the campsite, we waited for the rest of the group to return while we treated ourselves to a hot bowl of noodles. We consoled ourselves by the stories of the ones who touched the summit. Summiting has its weightage; one should probably experience it to say anything more. Everyone’s unique experience during the trek pervaded the mess tent during the dinner.
I woke up to the buzzing alarm a couple of hours after midnight. I had planned and marked spots to gaze at stars and the milky way. I had never witnessed those many stars ever before; it was a starry sky. I could also spot a satellite and a shooting star drawing a tangent in the sky.
The 24th of May — A long trek from Khullara to Dhak Village — Bruised and limping legs — Laid like a dead log at the Joshimath lodge.
It was an unbearable chilling night which forced me into my tent after shooting few frames. My fingers had started to swell due to the cold. After hours and close to the dawn, realizing that I would not get this opportunity again, I stepped out of the tent with my rigged camera. I enjoyed the scene of the rising sun from different viewpoints. The shepherds invited me to join for the tea when I was shooting their herd. I guess it was the respect for my camera. The fire helped heal my numb fingers while the salt tea waked me up to full-eyed.
The porters and trek helpers started pulling the pegs and folding the nylon tents. We lent a helping hand in whatever we could. All of us were stuffing our things into our rucksacks to prepare for the descent. We retraced our route to the Dhak village, where a four-wheeled vehicle was waiting to drop us at the lodge in Joshimath. The long hike down the mountains resulted in bruised toes and had cramps in the night.
I went to bed regretting my low fitness levels. A little more workout would have helped in a comfortable trek and could have easily summited the peak.
The 25th of May — Joshimath to Haridwar — Riding rapids in Rishikesh.
The ride from Joshimath back to Haridwar now seemed mundane until someone in the group suggested river rafting in Rishikesh. For the rest of the ride, we called potential vendors to schedule our rafting.
We reached the vendor’s office, signed on the declaration form, paid the fees, and deposited our rucksacks. We then rode to the banks of the river Ganga, where rafts were stacked. The raft’s captain instructed us how to row and helped us suit up with the life jacket and helmet. After a short rehearsal and photo session, we were on the raft floating on the river. Manasa, holding the rope, occupied the front of the raft, reasoning that she need not row. She soon regretted her decision at the first rapid when the water splashed her hard. The captain sat at the rare end, signaling us when to paddle and when to stop.
As soon as we started, two rafts carrying about 20 people toppled, dumping everyone into the water. We were frightened of seeing them. But the thrill of floating and paddling, the dip and raise in the rapids kept us engaged and screaming. Summit deprived, I was high on the raft that something is pumping my adrenaline. We also jumped into the river, where the water was calm. We parked the raft along the riverside and took a break, and the captain walked us to a 25–30 feet cliff. I was pushed down the cliff when I had no courage to jump at my given chances. The buoyant life jacket pulled me out of the water in seconds after the plunge. My stomach was crushed due to the force of the water when I jumped, but I soon caught my breath and swam to the river bank.
We paddled down a little longer where our session would come to an end. We changed into dry clothes- and looked around for a bus to Haridwar. As we drove towards Haridwar, we could spot Ganga Aarti along the riverbanks.
Aarabhi and Aahiri, who had experienced the rafting before, skipped it this time and went ahead to Haridwar. They rested in a community lodge until we reached in the evening. We had dinner and booked a bus to Delhi. I swallowed a painkiller, slid into a deep slumber in the AC bus to Delhi.
The 26th of May — Reunion with Delhi — Street hopping and shopping.
A moderate fog had engulfed the Delhi streets, and silhouettes of street vendors were selling steaming chai. We hired a rickshaw to reach YHAI that took us through some cleanest and solitary roads of Delhi. On reaching YHAI, we took a nap and rested for a while in the dormitory.
We opted for HO-HO Delhi, a shuttle service to wander around the city. We visited the Nehru Planetarium, The National Museum, and the rest of the day we spent in Sarojini Nagar Market. We tried some street food then the girls hopped from shop to shop. We headed back to YHAI before it got dark. After dark, we strolled around the India Gate. We celebrated Aarabhi’s birthday in advance with a cake.
The 27th-28th of May — Experience of the Indian Railways.
Nanda took a flight to Bangalore while four of us had booked the train to cut down on the expense. We had a scheduled train for early in the morning, 6.30 am. We checkout out from YHAI and reached Hazrat Nizamuddin.
We wanted to experience long-distance Indian Railways. We ditched the AC compartment assuming that it would get suffocated over the long journey. We had booked the sleeper to experience the rawness of a long-distance train journey. We traveled not more than an hour when the train halted amidst barren land, which looked like a desert. With the passing of every minute, we were getting toasted inside the compartment. We prayed for the train to move when the wisp of air from the fan didn’t comfort us. Forced and threatened by the co-passengers, they demanded to share the reserved seats. As platforms approached, I rushed down to get our water bottles filled for the onward journey. The compartments were swept and cleaned twice a day but, the passengers didn’t allow it to be tidy for long. In addition to the untidy surroundings, our seats were just in front of the lavatory; the stinky surroundings and the untidy compartment didn’t allow us to have our food comfortably. One night and two days journey seemed an everlasting affair, and now, I don’t accept that it was merely two days on the train. One train journey gave us enough experience until our next one. By the time we reached Bangalore, my shirt had turned crispy due to the sweat and dirt during the travel. Unwilling to board any bus in our dirty attire, we took the last bus of the day to Mangalore.
