Snapshots from the Chadar Trek - last shelf

Sometime during the last couple of days of the trek, Emily asked me, “If given a chance to do this trek again for free, would you be up for it?” Even though the relentless cold was becoming unbearable to me, and I was waiting to get back to warmer locales, I hesitated only a moment before replying, “Well, I would think twice about it; but in the end, I definitely would.”

The truth was that the rewards on this trek had been infinitely more than the hardships we faced. The visual wonders of this kingdom of ice would make us forget the freezing and aching limbs. Here are some of those moments which took my breath away. 

The Happiest Kid

This snapshot on the Chadar was captured with a high shutter speed. Head slightly tilted, eyes narrowed to slits because of the grin spread from ear to ear, a kid, about 5 or 6, sitting on a sledge being speedily pulled by a porter along the icy Chadar, zipped past me. I can never forget the sheer joy on his face as he held on with all his might to the ropes of the sledge. His plump cheeks were rendered rosy pink with the cold. He was covered with so many layers of clothes that he looked more like a stuffed sack with a head sticking out at one end.

We saw many children accompanied by their parents on the Chadar who were on their way back to schools in Leh after the winter vacation. All of them bright little things excited to be meeting their class-mates soon, and they seemed to be handling the adversities of the Chadar really well. Now I am in no doubt what absolute happiness looks like, I just have to close my eyes and recall the image of the kid, which I saw but for a fraction of a second.

The Porters

A porter walking bare-foot through ice cold water

This one is more of a video clip than a snapshot. Watching the porters do seemingly superhuman things day in and day out on the Chadar sometimes made me drop my jaw in awe. How could they pull sledges laden with 60 to 70 kgs load throughout the day? How could they piggy-back some of the trekkers who did not have water-proof shoes through watery patches on the Chadar? How could they walk down to the icy cold river and fetch, with bare hands, water for our consumption? How could they tug at ropes and pitch tents when we were too numb to even lift a finger? I remember making no effort to get out of my sleeping bag each morning till there was a call of ‘Madam ji!! Chai!’ from outside the tent. And I never stopped wondering that the porters, who also doubled as cooks, have been up hours before, preparing chai and breakfast and winding up the camp.

One evening when some of us were in the mess tent, one of the porters came in with a really nasty bruise on his cheek. He said he fell down while looking for firewood. And let me tell you, the pain intensifies in subzero temperature. There were a couple of doctors in our trekking group who had a first-aid kit ready at hand, and they dressed up his wound quickly. They gave him an antibiotic to prevent infection, and a painkiller to reduce the pain. Though I don’t think he needed all this. Throughout the whole process, he had a bemused little smile on his face looking at all the fuss that was being made around him.

At the end of the trek, one of the porters asked me for my pair of gum-boots, because his were torn. I would not find them of any use after going back home, and I happily gave him the boots. He was most grateful and had a look as if I had just saved his life. But the fact was just the opposite – there was no chance for us to have survived the Chadar for a week without their support. It was the porters who saved our lives. 

‘Kitney Aadmi The’!!

One day walking among the rocky mountains around the Zanskar, we felt as if we were on the sets of the movie Sholey, where Gabbar Singh used to walk up and down slapping his belt against his legs. The fun began when my trek-mates started repeating the iconic dialogues from the movie – “Are o Samba!! Kitney aadmi the?” And I was surprised when one of the porters also joined in – “Sardar, 2”!

A few days ago, I had found myself thinking whether the Indian spirit could have traveled all the way across the mountains to these far flung parts of our country. And now I got the answer. If they knew the dialogues of this movie by heart, they were very much the same people as me. I had always heard, but never quite believed, that Bollywood and cricket are the connector threads that bind a country of distinct religions and traditions together. 

And then there were 20

Postscript 

In the week spent on the Chadar, I saw forces of nature at their colossal best. Enormous volumes of rapidly flowing water petrified to eerie stillness, huge blocks of ice being pulverized in the river as if they were mere swabs of cotton; these sights made me laugh out loud at mankind’s arrogance. If human beings think they can keep taking advantage of the earth’s patience with their idiotic disregard for nature, it won’t be long before we are brushed off from the face of the earth. This trek, apart from everything else, has given me a great feeling of accomplishment. Feel proud and lucky to have been on the Cahdar J

Snapshots from the Chadar Trek - Shelf 2

The good thing about having a photo-shelf one’s mind is that it is a self-purging space. The worth-while moments automatically stick with you. Here are some more moments which have survived the purge and claimed a more permanent spot…

Ice on my face

Day time temperature stood at -11 centigrade

Since I am an early-riser by nature, my Mom never had to resort to desperate measures like sprinkling water on my face to get me out of bed. But that morning, I was in for a rude shock when I was woken up by a sprinkle of ice on my face. I got up to find a fine dusting of ice crystals on my sleeping bag, and the entire inner wall of the tent covered with a layer of ice. When the wind shook the tent, some of that ice had fallen on my face and forced me to get up.

The extreme cold made sure that many of the tasks I usually did intuitively became something which needed a lot of jugaad. The toothpaste was frozen in its tube, and all I could do was to dunk my toothbrush in a mouthwash and brush my teeth with it. The sunscreen had to be dipped in a pitcher of hot water before it became pliable enough to be applied. At night, I would remove the battery out of the camera and tuck it inside a roll of socks. This roll of socks would then sit at the bottom of my sleeping bag at night, and thus I ensured that the battery would  not run out before the trek was over. Stuffing the snowy sleeping bags and mattress in the bag became a herculean task. If somehow the socks or the gloves would get damp, they would get frozen and stiff in minutes, and would stick to the skin. Everyone had runny noses, and after a couple of days, had given up wiping their drippy noses because the frequent contact with tissue paper bruised the skin. The hands and feet would get painfully numb for so long that sometimes I forgot they even existed.

It had not happened to me before, but I was driven close to tears multiple times during the week. When I had dreamt about being on the Chadar while sitting in my air-conditioned office, I had considered only the exciting and adventurous aspect of it. The physical hardships were taking over the senses, and the romance of the situation slowly froze off.  I really wondered if I would ever sweat again, if the thought of drinking a glass of water would not seem like a punishment to me….

Gangnam Style

20 adults on a trek... respectable and dignified - standing inside a tent at dusk - dancing to ‘Gangnam Style’ with a most earnest look on their faces. I cannot get over the humor of the situation now, but it was impossible that any of us felt funny about it at that time, because we were chilled down to the bone, and would have done anything to get a little warmer. The chilly wind slapped away at the walls of the mess tent, threatening to uproot it any minute. It started off with a little spot jogging and some school style PT inside the tent to stay warm as we waited for dinner to be served; and before we knew it, we went Gangnam Style, singing ‘bop – bop bop’, and imitating Psy’s moves. :)

The Kitchen tent

All through the week, the kitchen tent was the warmest place to be wherever we camped. And it was not just because of the heat from the stoves. The smiling faces and the sense of humor of our cooks used to warm the spirits up. There was always an excuse to linger in the kitchen tent – to ask for hot drinking water, or to dry off a wet sock or a glove, or sit around for a game of cards. I would shamelessly hang around in the kitchen, getting in everybody’s way. But the cooks were too polite to tell me to get the hell out of there. They would not only put up with me, they would also offer me salty butter-tea whenever they had some. Life was good in the Kitchen tent; it was like a little oasis of warmth in this icy desert.    

The Fall

I am not one of those skidding sliding trekkers; I am a person who usually sacrifices speed for the want of a good grip and good balance. This is what had kept me from slipping and falling on the Chadar so far. The thought of a fall was terrifying, especially when the snow had frozen off, and all below our feet there was a layer of thin, razor sharp wafers of ice. 

One afternoon on the way back from Naerak to Tibb, I was walking with my sunglasses on and a muffler around my ears and nose. The glasses were continuously getting fogged up, and blurred my vision. At one point, when I thought I was stepping on slushy ice (which is less slippery), I actually stepped on a patch of smooth slithery ice and I fell down with a thud. The cold hard surface of the Chadar hit me smack on my left cheek, as if the river was reprimanding me for my audacity of walking on it. My trekking pole slipped out of my hand and was slowly advancing sown the slope towards the center of the river. I caught it just in time before it reached the fast flowing water in the middle. The left half of my face was swollen for quite some time after, I could tell by the way my sunglasses sat on my face. The porters had said earlier that you have not really done the Chadar trek till you’ve slipped on it once. Well, I guess I earned this honor too. :)

Snapshots from the Chadar Trek

An un-marinated dream come true

What would you do if your town was disconnected from the rest of the world during winter because the road leading to it was snowed in? I would make sure I had ample food and books to last me a while, and would sit at home curled up in front of a fire during those months. But the people in the Zanskar valley have other ideas. Hibernating in their houses for the winter does not appeal to them. They choose instead to use the frozen Zanskar River as a highway to Leh. So what if it takes multiple days to walk the river and reach Leh, so what if the temperatures are several degrees below freezing, so what if there is wildlife about, so what if food and shelter is scarce?

The barely habitable environment of the ‘Chadar’, as the locals very matter-of-factly call it, has all the makings of a highly glamorous trek - one which will enable a trekker to test her attitude, tolerance, determination and survival instincts while providing for some of the best visuals imaginable. The idea of trekking on the frozen Zanskar River struck so incredulous to me that I had not allowed myself to even dream sincerely about it. In a haze I booked the trek, and in a haze I started preparing for it; knowing fully well that I could never be completely prepared, hardly believing that I would go through with it. This trek was unlike anything else I had ever attempted. There were no peaks to be conquered; there were no altitude maximums to be ticked off. This trek, more than anything else, was all about the journey rather than the destination.

In retrospect, the seven days spent on the Chadar are not a continuous wave of events in my head. They are merely moments imprinted on my memory, snapshots on the walls of my mind. 

Leh

A Game of Ice-hockey in Leh

I stood watching an under-14 game of ice-hockey between Haryana and J&K. We had a day to spend in Leh before the trek began. I couldn’t believe that for the first time I was in a state of the country which I had only seen in news, more for the wrong reasons than the right. The plane had landed here after crossing miles and miles of mountain ranges. The people were different, they had different lives, different issues. I usually saw kids playing cricket or football; here they were skating on blades, striking a puck! But they were my countrymen. Did they have the same Indian-ness as me? Could the Indian spirit penetrate all these miles of mountains?

The sight of the great Sindhu

The mighty Indus

The trek was to start from Tilad Do, which is about 70 km from Leh, and we started off in a bus. We were driven along the Sindhu River, and the sight of the great Indus - the river which nurtured one of the oldest civilizations in the world, the river which cultivated the most intelligent minds to have created one of the best civic systems of all times, the river which names our country – gave me goose bumps. We stopped at the confluence point of the Sindhu and the Zanskar rivers. Standing next to the fluttering prayer flags, I felt sure that I could spend the rest of my life looking at these mighty rivers without getting even the slightest bit bored.

The Skid

The Indus looked slender and more livid as compared to the wide icy Zanskar. I was sitting on the left side, where I could directly see the side of the road fall to the Chadar of ice covering the Zanskar. It seemed as if there was space just enough for our bus on the road, and not a millimeter more. Yet miraculously, whenever a vehicle used to come from the other side, the road seemed to expand a little, and both the vehicles would cross each other. My eyes were glued to the road, watching if the driver responded to each curve of the road by sufficiently steering the wheel. Though he was going tentatively over the blotches of snow on the road, he had the vehicle more-or-less under control.

Suddenly, on one of the sharper curves, the tires skidded on a patch of ice. The bus drifted over the ice for a few feet without the will of the driver, and stopped just in time. All the twenty hearts in the bus skipped a beat; it was scary to have the driver lose control of the bus like that, even if it was for a few seconds. After that I decided the best thing to do was to take my eyes off the road and take a small nap.

My first snowfall

On the frozen Zanskar, amidst snowfall

Having lived in a tropical country all my life, my only chance to see snow, albeit stale, was to go to a hill station during summer vacation. So on the second day of the trek, when little snow-flakes started trooping down from the sky, it was a great moment for me. I wanted to pack snowballs and build snowmen. My European trek-mates, to whom snowfall is as common as a rainy day in Mumbai during monsoons, were thoroughly amused by my enthusiasm. It snowed the whole of that day, and the whole of night. The Chadar got a powder coating of snow, and all the mountains and rocks with jagged edges were wrapped in cuddly softness. At night, we were told to shake the snow off the tents every couple of hours, else they would collapse under the weight of the snow. While having lunch en-route, our noodle-bowls used to get a garnish of snow within minutes.

The snow helped us in a lot of ways – walking on the Chadar with a dusting of snow became much easier, and the temperature raised a little. And as for the view – the mountains looked like Nigella’s multi layered chocolate cake with a dusting of icing sugar on top….

The Science lesson recalled

The torn metal bottle

When liquids cool down, they contract. So does water, but only till it reaches 4 degrees. Below that, water expands; and when it freezes, it expands by about 9%. Why was I reminded of this particular science class from school? Because I was staring horrified at my cracked metal water bottle lying outside the tent. I had filled the water with hot water the night before, and wanted to tuck it in my sleeping bag next to my feet to keep them warm. But I changed my mind at the last minute, and slid the bottle out of the tent from under the tent. That night the mercury dropped to -23, and made sure that I had no water bottle with me for the rest of the trek... :(

My Top 5 Reasons to 'Take a Hike'

The views, the thrill, the high of the altitude, the ever-expanding horizons – these are the obvious reasons for which I go trekking. But when I dig down deeper, there are scores of non-obvious little things that make me adore the idea of going on a trek.

5. The Shaking Knees

 It’s been a long day’s walking. You have been on the trail for hours and hours. Finally in the distance you see the tents. You gratefully reach the tents and stop walking. But your knees just keep shaking and shaking, as if they are still raring to go. Someone told me it’s because of the adrenaline rush. It’s a weird feeling; it’s so much fun…. :)

 4. The Food

Sounds strange, coming from a non-foodie, doesn’t it? I really don’t care too much about food and I don’t have any specific likes and dislikes. As long as I get enough edible stuff to keep me going, I am ok. But meals on a trek are the ones I actually enjoy. There always seems to be just the right food in just the right quantity. And there’s this feeling of having earned the meal which makes it all the more better; there are no guilt-trips after hogging aloo-parathas, or on asking for second helpings of the dessert. ;)

3. The People

Next time you travel on a plane, look at the person sitting next to you. Ever wonder how you were destined to share these few, albeit unremarkable, moments of your life with this stranger; who you have never before, nor after landing, see again?

I have almost always trekked with a set of strangers. But the moments and experiences shared with them are nowhere close to unremarkable. The camaraderie that is formed over a trek is somehow different from the usual friendships. Instead of bonding over a cup of coffee or opinions on politics and movies, people bond over seemingly trivial problems - like how to keep bugs from getting into your sleeping bag, or who will keep a watch while the other person takes a piss… ;) Unreasonable amount of trust is placed upon these friends – on a slippery slope, the proffered helping hand is taken without hesitation.

Once back to the mundane, most of these friendships tend to dissipate quickly. People get on with their lives, go their separate ways; just like how you walk away from the luggage belt at the airport and never see your fellow-travelers again. But that does not mean that the moments you shared with them have faded away from memory. It’s just that they have been pushed to the back of the shelf, like some worn old sweatshirt which you think of putting on when you are alone and its cold outside….

2. The Sheer Physicality

 Being on a trek is one of the few times in life where what you do and how you do it, is more important than what you say and how you say it. True that the gift of the gab has always been a case of sour grapes for me; but isn’t it great there is some safe haven, where what you are not good at, is not really that important? I have always found a certain kind of elation when people say, ‘Tendulkar lets his bat do the talking.’ For me, it’s only too good to be true that there is no need to talk yourself up; you just do what you have to do.

 1. The Out-Of-Office 

“I cannot reply to your mail, because I am currently out of office with no access to e-mails or phone.” Priceless!!! Need I say more?? Give it a try, stay out of coverage area for a couple of days. :D

These were my top five salient reasons for going trekking. What are yours???

Trek to Roopkund - Part 7

Day 6 (contd..) 21st September

Roopkund to Pather Nachani via Baghwabasa

Climbing down a mountain is the closest that I have ever come to meditation. Strange as it may sound, it is while descending a steep mountain path that my mind is most focused. There are no thoughts in my mind except this question – where should I place my foot next. And this is what meditation is, putting a leash on the wild wanderings of our thoughts.

The best way to descend on a slope covered with snow is to cut steps and walk. I am sending a shower of show on everyone walking in front of me in doing so. Gradually the snow reduces and mixes with the mud to form slick which is even more difficult to walk on. ‘A walking stick would have helped,’ I think to myself. I am usually a slow descender, and on this slippery trail, my speed reduces further. After about 45 minutes, we reach the stream which had held us up in the morning. But now the ice layer on the rocks has melted away, and we cross it easily.

We reach Baghwabasa at 12:30, where we have lunch. It is decided that we will go only up to Pather Nachani today, because it’s already been a long day’s walking. The weather is heavenly now. But nevertheless, that day’s rain and storm are still at the back of our minds.Once we reach the Kalu Vinayak temple, we think of taking a small rest. But as soon as we sit down, we see a cloud descending upon us, and hear a low rumble. This jerks us back into motion, and the idea of the break is dropped.

Two days back, we had reached Pather Nachani in a dead beat state. Today we have reached here in a triumphant state – after completing Mission RoopkundJ.  Everyone is happy – all the 12 trekkers have made it to Roopkund in style. The jubilant mood continues for a long time, as all of us keep singing songs late into the night.

Day 7 - 23rd September

Pather Nachani to Lohajung, via Bedini Bugyal and Wan

I wake up to the melodic sound of Jagdish Sir’s flute on this beautiful morning. As this is the last day of our trek, we all thank the Trek the Himalayas team – they have been wonderful with all their arrangements and support; always patient, always ready with a word of encouragement.

Himalayan Griffin

Today we have to go to the village Wan, from where taxis would drive us to Lohajung. We are taking the same trail which we were walking on half dead only a couple of days back. But the weather is completely different today. It’s a glorious morning, the sun is on our side for a change, and the entire mountain side is bathed in sunlight. All the views that we missed the other day are now being presented to us. The peaks of Trishul and Nandaghungti can be seen clearly now. There are a few Himalayan Griffins flying around in the sky. These majestic birds with their huge wingspan are gliding about; it looks as if they are overlooking our trek, ensuring we don’t disrespect their great Himalayan Empire in any way.

Bedini Kund

After some time, we reach Bedini Bugyal. This is where there is another lake, the Bedini Kund, and a temple of Goddess Parvati. Oh! The beauty of this place is exotic! The bright blue sky with the clouds floating around in it! The lush green meadows, the sheep grazing around, the mountains in the background, and the vibrant colors of the Bedini Kund! It feels as if we are walking in a Technicolor painting. My words are not eloquent enough to describe the bliss that fills my heart. This is the happiest I have felt in a long time. I hope they don’t pave this paradise and put up a parking lot.

This is that time of the year when the Jat Yatra happens in Bedini. There is a fair being organized here, which will begin today evening. We see a lot of people from nearby villages making their way to Bedini Bugyal. Small kids holding on to their fathers’ hands, old women bent with age, mystic Sadhus in their saffron attire; anybody and everybody is going to be at the Bedini fair. And each of them asks us to stay for the fair. But we are not so fortunate – we are city dwellers, we have to get back to our mundane lives very soon.

The Neel Ganga

We have been descending for hours now, and my knees are rattling. After some time, we reach the Neel Ganga river. The water is very refreshing. After a long time, contact with water feels nice.  We have lunch and a little rest here. From here, there is small ascent to the Wan village, climbing up after descending so much feels very good.

All this while, a light hearted banter is going on among us. We tease Rhushi for his slow speed, (‘the art of walking slow’, as he calls it), we tease Anjali and Priyanka and Ravi for their jargon laded photography talks, and we tease Vaishali and Vineeta for stopping every few minutes to peer at some flower or some bird. As Vaishali and Vineeta are discussing the scientific names of the birds they saw on this trek, Sandeep tells us his four categories of all flying beings – ‘Makhhi, titli, kaua aur cheel.’ I almost fall over laughing. If only pulling a person’s legs could make them taller, Vineeta would have been eight feet tall by now… ;)  After crossing Wan, we see a road and the taxis. We would be going to Lohajung for the night, and would drive to Kathgodam tomorrow, from where we have to catch a train to Delhi.

This has been an amazing trek - I have reached new heights with my co-trekkers, and expanded my horizons. I realize, the more I see, the less I know. A lot of new treks have been added to my must-do-treks list. At this rate, one trek a year would not do. I have to plan for at least two treks a year. I hope and pray that as I keep checking treks off my list, I keep adding twice as many J.

Post Script

On the way back to Kathgodam, Ravi said, 'Sometimes I feel I should move to a small village in these mountains, and teach in a primary school.' I was amazed, this is exactly what I have always dreamed of doing. I was happy that I was not the only freak who dreamt of retiring to a small mountain village, untouched by the maddening pace of the urban world, where you have to continuously keep running just to stand still. Even after almost a month of coming back, my mind kept wandering back to that incredible week spent in the Himalayas. A little part of me is still there – there are some places you never completely come back from.