As I returned, an image frequently came to my mind, an image similar to that of Klaus Kinski in German classic Wrath of God, an image in which a man overcomes every challenge with authority, climbs hills and crosses streams, and with irritated disdain throws away the arrows that dared to sting his mighty body. He enters deep into woods and then even sails out of it, winning all and defying everything.
But far from the forest, away from all enemies, and out of any danger, he staggers, stumbles and falls flat on his face, dead purple with poison.
**************************************
The Grind (Govindhat to Ghangharia Trek, 14 km): - 14 is a number which doesn’t hold any particular significance for us when denominated in km. But in hills, this distance seems to be a long, long way. No wonder some trekkers have named this trek “The Grind”. However, the so-called grind is grounded by hundreds of men and women everyday, of every age, who in their ordinary slippers walk merrily past the out-of-breath trekkers, all thanks to their religious inspiration.
Though a bit tiring in start, this trek leaves you refreshed by the end. You meet people and talk to them, and then leave them behind; and see them again when you relax at one of these numerous dhabas in the way. Smiles and greetings are exchanged and the caravan moves on. You are neither lonely nor bored, and moreover, you forget every pain in the embrace of beauty. Literally walking through clouds, you slide along the curves of Alaknanda, who gurgles with ecstasy and fills up the whole sky with puffs of steam. I hopped down off the track, lied on a rock and listened to her soothing chatter with eyes closed. Ah what an experience it was!
Now we come to the valley of flowers after 4 km trek from Ghangharia. Without wasting words, let me summarize - the juice is not worth the squeeze, unless you enjoy squeezing as such. I mean that unless you are a random adventurer, or a botanist, Valley of Flowers might disappoint you. At least our experience was quite underwhelming, may be because of our high expectations with the place itself, the place that was the protagonist of our plans.
No doubt, VoF is amazing in many ways and had the weather been better, perhaps we’d have witnessed something else! But I will say only what I have seen, without getting intimidated by its fame. First, we were not able to find those thousand varieties of flowers. Secondly, the season recommended to visit the valley is the season of Monsoon, which meant intermittent drizzling and dampness all around, enough to douse every fire you want to kindle. One of our fellow trekkers, who came there exclusively for the purpose of photography, practically couldn’t take out his camera. I ventured to take out mine, only to shoot monochromatic arrays of rain-beaten flowers with heavy mist in background. When you walk back to your hotel after a 4-5 km trek, you are welcomed by dampness all over – damp bed, damp clothes, and dampened spirit! And the only way out of that damp, stinky, stuffy hell is that 14 Himalayan km long grind. You feel helplessly trapped!
The Trap: - We woke up at 3.30 in the night to catch the first bus from Rishikesh to Joshimath. The idea was to reach Joshimath in afternoon and proceed for Govindghat immediately. We reached Joshimath in afternoon but could not proceed further because the buses for Govindghat plied only in morning, when the gate was opened for vehicles. This is something hardly anyone talked about in his/her travelogue – Gates. These gates are opened for limited duration in a day and if you plan to travel in the hills of Uttaranchal, do plan your itinerary keeping this in mind. More about planning will follow later in this post.
VoF had left us damp and disappointed, so we cancelled our plan for Hemkund (a holy place for Sikhs, 6 km steep trek from Ghangharia, amid ponies and pony-craps) and instead planned to go to visit Golden Temple in Amritsar and Wagah Border. I invoked my gods, wrapped crape bandages around my creaky knees and ran down the grind, and then patted myself for doing that without getting any injury.
*********************************
The sunny weather of Badrinath dried the sticky dampness of Ghangharia off our minds and bags. Despite being a holy spot, Badrinath looked curiously clean and quiet, and breathtakingly beautiful as well! I didn't expect that soothing silence there - echoing from the high walls of snowy hills. Perhaps this was because of the 'off-season'. This is when the gods come back to their lofty abodes, after their devotees go away, having done all their noisy nonsense.
It was something as wonderful as living in "Annie's song", or "Fursat Ke Raat Din". You feel a surreal sort of timelessness there. Sitting on a chair in open sunlight, and surrounded by majestic mountains, you feel as if you have been there since a long long time. The valley enfolds you in her lap, caresses you and makes you oblivious to everything but a pleasant brightness, which is seen even if you close your eyes. Even now, after a fortnight has passed, I can see that brightness when I close my eyes. I can still feel that cold touch on my skin.
Having relaxed a while there, we stretched our limbs, rubbed our drowsy eyes and finally set off to enquire about next bus to Haridwar. But at the bus stop, which seemed to be dozing, and its people playing cards here and there, we heard the breaking news – Roads to Badrinath blocked because of heavy landslides!
I will spare you the details of our anxiety, as Akshaya and I had to catch our train and flight in Delhi. And we could do nothing but wait for the roads to get cleared. There I realized the futility of making smart plans in Uttaranchal, where landslides are as common as sunrise and sunset, and more so during Monsoon. And I couldn't resist a smile at the arrogance with which people make their itinerary, and flaunt on websites without even mentioning that their plan is only tentative, and subject to change as per situation.
Infact, everything, including your life, depends on the mood of the mighty mountains. When roads are blocked, or cracked, you can hardly budge. When they are okay, you never know when one of those millions loose rocks decides to roll down and takes you, with your car, deep in the ditch. We got to see a sample there as well - a Bolero lying in the gorge; I could almost see it go dancing down after beaten by a hard rock.
At that point of time, the only thing in our minds was - to escape from there.
The Escape (Helang to Gulabkot Trek): - We reached Joshimath by a jeep, and the driver said that we will go ahead, as far as we could. This is how locals live there, in parts. Life is hard there and man is soft to his fellows. We saw how drivers help one another by stopping the passing vehicles and spreading the news of landslides. They know that helping others is the only way to help yourself in crisis. The vehicles go as far as the road is good, and then the people cross the damaged area by foot and sit in the vehicles standing on the other side. We were ready for this idea by then. But the landslide in Helang made the road unpassable and we found ourselves stuck in the way. The only way left to us was to climb a hill to reach where we could get vehicles.
This was the high-point of our challenges. I would need a separate post to describe this journey in detail. This 'trek' was already full of adventure since we didn't know how far and how long we had to walk, and to add more spice in life I lost my way. Way ahead of the caravan and lost in my rhythm, I couldn't notice where a path stole its way down amid dense bushes. I was surprised to find myself alone but I was convinced that I was going in the right direction. But it was going like forever. I had no idea how far my destination was. And it was useless to ask others. After every 2 km I walked, anyone whom I asked would say the same, 'just 2 km more.'
Right then I realized that I would never be able to forget that moment - absolutely alone at that height, and looking at the road below, which looked like a serpent from where I stood. Thankfully wild animals didn't find me interesting enough, because at that place even a monkey was enough to kill you, or imbalance at least, which would have anyways meant the same. And that forest was full of them, and bears, and leopards as well, as they say. Though this trek couldn't tire me, I'd admit that there were moments when it scared me. There were points where I could have fallen thousands feet down, had I slipped or panicked, or even looked down.
In the way I met many gadhwali people, and they left a very good impression on my mind. They are brave, kind and chivalrous. You talk to them for 5 minutes and they invite you at their home for lunch! They save your life and then refuse to take anything in return, as a token of gratitude. They are so unlike us urban people, who have nothing else but smart arguments and phrases to offer to others.
Reaching Gulabkot at 11.50 AM, I waited for my friends till 1.40 PM, by looking at passing vehicles. I wondered how they would cross those two points. My cellphone was lying dead in my pocket. Finally, I decided to catch a bus and meet them in Haridwar, as I was not sure where they were. I waved a passing bus and lo! Akshaya was there inside. I knew that I had lost my way, but nothing else!
See the selected snaps of this trip here.
But far from the forest, away from all enemies, and out of any danger, he staggers, stumbles and falls flat on his face, dead purple with poison.
**************************************
The Grind (Govindhat to Ghangharia Trek, 14 km): - 14 is a number which doesn’t hold any particular significance for us when denominated in km. But in hills, this distance seems to be a long, long way. No wonder some trekkers have named this trek “The Grind”. However, the so-called grind is grounded by hundreds of men and women everyday, of every age, who in their ordinary slippers walk merrily past the out-of-breath trekkers, all thanks to their religious inspiration.
Though a bit tiring in start, this trek leaves you refreshed by the end. You meet people and talk to them, and then leave them behind; and see them again when you relax at one of these numerous dhabas in the way. Smiles and greetings are exchanged and the caravan moves on. You are neither lonely nor bored, and moreover, you forget every pain in the embrace of beauty. Literally walking through clouds, you slide along the curves of Alaknanda, who gurgles with ecstasy and fills up the whole sky with puffs of steam. I hopped down off the track, lied on a rock and listened to her soothing chatter with eyes closed. Ah what an experience it was!
Now we come to the valley of flowers after 4 km trek from Ghangharia. Without wasting words, let me summarize - the juice is not worth the squeeze, unless you enjoy squeezing as such. I mean that unless you are a random adventurer, or a botanist, Valley of Flowers might disappoint you. At least our experience was quite underwhelming, may be because of our high expectations with the place itself, the place that was the protagonist of our plans.
No doubt, VoF is amazing in many ways and had the weather been better, perhaps we’d have witnessed something else! But I will say only what I have seen, without getting intimidated by its fame. First, we were not able to find those thousand varieties of flowers. Secondly, the season recommended to visit the valley is the season of Monsoon, which meant intermittent drizzling and dampness all around, enough to douse every fire you want to kindle. One of our fellow trekkers, who came there exclusively for the purpose of photography, practically couldn’t take out his camera. I ventured to take out mine, only to shoot monochromatic arrays of rain-beaten flowers with heavy mist in background. When you walk back to your hotel after a 4-5 km trek, you are welcomed by dampness all over – damp bed, damp clothes, and dampened spirit! And the only way out of that damp, stinky, stuffy hell is that 14 Himalayan km long grind. You feel helplessly trapped!
The Trap: - We woke up at 3.30 in the night to catch the first bus from Rishikesh to Joshimath. The idea was to reach Joshimath in afternoon and proceed for Govindghat immediately. We reached Joshimath in afternoon but could not proceed further because the buses for Govindghat plied only in morning, when the gate was opened for vehicles. This is something hardly anyone talked about in his/her travelogue – Gates. These gates are opened for limited duration in a day and if you plan to travel in the hills of Uttaranchal, do plan your itinerary keeping this in mind. More about planning will follow later in this post.
VoF had left us damp and disappointed, so we cancelled our plan for Hemkund (a holy place for Sikhs, 6 km steep trek from Ghangharia, amid ponies and pony-craps) and instead planned to go to visit Golden Temple in Amritsar and Wagah Border. I invoked my gods, wrapped crape bandages around my creaky knees and ran down the grind, and then patted myself for doing that without getting any injury.
*********************************
The sunny weather of Badrinath dried the sticky dampness of Ghangharia off our minds and bags. Despite being a holy spot, Badrinath looked curiously clean and quiet, and breathtakingly beautiful as well! I didn't expect that soothing silence there - echoing from the high walls of snowy hills. Perhaps this was because of the 'off-season'. This is when the gods come back to their lofty abodes, after their devotees go away, having done all their noisy nonsense.
It was something as wonderful as living in "Annie's song", or "Fursat Ke Raat Din". You feel a surreal sort of timelessness there. Sitting on a chair in open sunlight, and surrounded by majestic mountains, you feel as if you have been there since a long long time. The valley enfolds you in her lap, caresses you and makes you oblivious to everything but a pleasant brightness, which is seen even if you close your eyes. Even now, after a fortnight has passed, I can see that brightness when I close my eyes. I can still feel that cold touch on my skin.
Having relaxed a while there, we stretched our limbs, rubbed our drowsy eyes and finally set off to enquire about next bus to Haridwar. But at the bus stop, which seemed to be dozing, and its people playing cards here and there, we heard the breaking news – Roads to Badrinath blocked because of heavy landslides!
I will spare you the details of our anxiety, as Akshaya and I had to catch our train and flight in Delhi. And we could do nothing but wait for the roads to get cleared. There I realized the futility of making smart plans in Uttaranchal, where landslides are as common as sunrise and sunset, and more so during Monsoon. And I couldn't resist a smile at the arrogance with which people make their itinerary, and flaunt on websites without even mentioning that their plan is only tentative, and subject to change as per situation.
Infact, everything, including your life, depends on the mood of the mighty mountains. When roads are blocked, or cracked, you can hardly budge. When they are okay, you never know when one of those millions loose rocks decides to roll down and takes you, with your car, deep in the ditch. We got to see a sample there as well - a Bolero lying in the gorge; I could almost see it go dancing down after beaten by a hard rock.
At that point of time, the only thing in our minds was - to escape from there.
The Escape (Helang to Gulabkot Trek): - We reached Joshimath by a jeep, and the driver said that we will go ahead, as far as we could. This is how locals live there, in parts. Life is hard there and man is soft to his fellows. We saw how drivers help one another by stopping the passing vehicles and spreading the news of landslides. They know that helping others is the only way to help yourself in crisis. The vehicles go as far as the road is good, and then the people cross the damaged area by foot and sit in the vehicles standing on the other side. We were ready for this idea by then. But the landslide in Helang made the road unpassable and we found ourselves stuck in the way. The only way left to us was to climb a hill to reach where we could get vehicles.
This was the high-point of our challenges. I would need a separate post to describe this journey in detail. This 'trek' was already full of adventure since we didn't know how far and how long we had to walk, and to add more spice in life I lost my way. Way ahead of the caravan and lost in my rhythm, I couldn't notice where a path stole its way down amid dense bushes. I was surprised to find myself alone but I was convinced that I was going in the right direction. But it was going like forever. I had no idea how far my destination was. And it was useless to ask others. After every 2 km I walked, anyone whom I asked would say the same, 'just 2 km more.'
Right then I realized that I would never be able to forget that moment - absolutely alone at that height, and looking at the road below, which looked like a serpent from where I stood. Thankfully wild animals didn't find me interesting enough, because at that place even a monkey was enough to kill you, or imbalance at least, which would have anyways meant the same. And that forest was full of them, and bears, and leopards as well, as they say. Though this trek couldn't tire me, I'd admit that there were moments when it scared me. There were points where I could have fallen thousands feet down, had I slipped or panicked, or even looked down.
In the way I met many gadhwali people, and they left a very good impression on my mind. They are brave, kind and chivalrous. You talk to them for 5 minutes and they invite you at their home for lunch! They save your life and then refuse to take anything in return, as a token of gratitude. They are so unlike us urban people, who have nothing else but smart arguments and phrases to offer to others.
Reaching Gulabkot at 11.50 AM, I waited for my friends till 1.40 PM, by looking at passing vehicles. I wondered how they would cross those two points. My cellphone was lying dead in my pocket. Finally, I decided to catch a bus and meet them in Haridwar, as I was not sure where they were. I waved a passing bus and lo! Akshaya was there inside. I knew that I had lost my way, but nothing else!
See the selected snaps of this trip here.
5 comments:
Not a single line that says I missed my dear friend Sanket...
Why don't you read between the lines dear? :)
Its Klaus Kinski... by the way.
Thanks!! :)
My pleasure... Separating Pisces from Aries (Meen-Mekh nikalana)
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