Write up by : Asha Purushothaman
I am just back from the experience of a lifetime, a visit to one
of the most beautiful trekking terrains of Utharakand, the
Valley of Flowers and Hemakund Sahib. And now its time for me to stack up one
by one, the mirthful moments and exhilarating experiences hoarded off in the
eyes and imprinted in the mind after being in the beautiful land. On tour were
seven ladies, a scintillating bunch, always jaunty and witty who made the trip
wholly exciting and sometimes entertaining with their delectable sense of humour.
Unlike our other trekking trips which were mostly to the southern states of the
country much closer to home, this one had the allure of being to the remote
North and to a very high altitude. The blissfulness and excitement that we
lived through the entire duration of the trip, I don’t think it can be
transformed into words even in part. Each and every one of our moments in the
nine days spent on the Himalayan foothills (Shivalik) will stay vivid and
vibrant in our memory shelf forever.
We were slated to meet at Haridwar but some grouped early from the
Delhi/Dehradun airport itself and roamed around on their own until the seven
dashing dames finally met and flew together for rest of the days. After the
touchdown at Dehra our commute to Haridwar was by a taxi. During the ride,
for the first time in life we heard about the persona of a
certain 'Gangaji.’ She was none else than the River Ganga herself. Our taxi
driver mentioned the name by which they all respectfully and affectionately
call the hallowed river (guess at times she displays that arrogance too, being
pampered and propitiated by her faithful folk).
We started off to Govindghat, our first halting point
in the trek to the Valley of flowers. A 11+ hour
strenuously long journey through dangerously steep roads, where road and gorges
play hide and seek as they follow each other. We could very well anticipate
what was in store when right at the beginning itself our driver made it clear
that he won't drive after 7PM and to restrict
driving at night, no lighting will be provided with. But on a terrain where
landslides make and mar roads lading to frequent roadblocks, time is a luxury
to have on your side. Men from the Border Road Organization (BRO) are handling
the traffic on these roads and a big salute goes to them for maintaining
equilibrium in the midst of the chaos around.
They are untiring in their efforts to clear the rubbles and remove obstructions using their well equipped vehicles, reinstating a way for the long line of passenger vehicles. As we climbed uphill along NH58, we travelled past all the five Prayags, but no one dared to ask to make a stop. It would only have delayed as in reaching our destination which was not only far but treacherously high too. Our driver promised us to stop and show what we missed on the way back. To our huge surprise, in one of the turnings before Pipalakotti, we saw a board in Malayalam that said Devabhoomiyilottu swagatham (welcome to the land of the devas).
Our Malayali minds thought of stopping and taking a snap but it
was darkness already and night had slowly started descending. So we
decided to postpone the photo session while returning. As night creeped in,
all of us sat silent in
awe, the only sound we could hear was the roar of Alakananda. She joined us
from Devaprayag and accompanied throughout our hilly trail revealing many of
her moods. At times she roared, thundered, bellowed, sometimes weeped,
wailed even howled. At times, she was a spectacle to behold, with drapes of
water layers rushing past rocks and boulders.
Near exhausted, we reached Govindghat at around 9:15 pm, some 3
hours behind our schedule. Alaka was so close to the
place where we stayed and she lullabied us to a peaceful sleep. The next
morning we woke up to witness a jaw dropping sight. The morning view was
supremely enrapturing, the Himalayas soaring aloft and the mist weaving
intricate patterns through the hills of Shivalik, laced up with lush
trees. The splendorous sight simply swept us away and all of us fell head over
heels for the Himalayas.
From Govindghat onwards we could see
mountain people (Pahadis). Though Nature forcibly kept them on the periphery of
human existence all these years and for no fault of them, they remain a
spirited and hardworking folk who relentlessly fight for their lives. Riding
ponies/mules, carrying luggages or even owners of the luggage. The better off among them
will be drivers, mostly riding Mahindra Maxi, Force Jeep, Tata Sumo, very
rarely Scorpios too. It is quite incredible to see these Pahadis carrying
weights two or three times more than their bodyweight. But it can also present
you with a sad picture when you see one human carrying another to make his ends
meet. The effect of their daily toil could be observed in their physique. Still in the forties,
they all looked stooping and very aged. But these signs of early aging haven’t
robbed them off their radiant smiles. Even in the daily struggle for life they looked
content and happy, at peace with their existence.
Next day we trekked further up to Gangria/Govinddham (9 kms,
altitude 9300 feet approximately). Rani and Laly, the two healthy ponies ambled along
lugging off our bags. Gangria was the second and final halting base before our
Valley of Flowers trek. Here we came touchingly close to Alakananda. She gave
us delightful company throughout the rest of the journey. On the way up we
frequently saw Pahadi women carrying bundles of grass (weighing more than
45kgs!). They walked speedily in groups passing us cheerfully. On the path there
was heavy traffic with trekkers, busy ponies and mules, men destined to carry
huge luggage and fellow men, each of them vying for space. It resembled a
crowded city road except that there was no vehicles moving. The animals were
perfectly acclimatised to
the terrain and we joked at people who opted for the convenience of a pony back
ride. Pilgrims to Hemakund Sahib mainly opted for ponies, but a great number of
them walked, some even on naked feet. There was one more option to reach from
Govindghat to Gangria which takes you real quick. It’s a helicopter ride which
is available if the climate is supportive. At Bhyundar we crossed Alaka for
the first time. Our excitement knew no bounds. The views and scenes were beyond
words, the mists swirled over the hills, the huge trees, the diverse flaura and
fauna, the clear blue skies, boulders and cliffs.
At around 5 pm we settled down at Gangria. The chillness of the mist was piercing. Next day at around 7 am we started our climactic trek to the Valley of Flowers. But our climb was interrupted as we were stopped by the Force personnel. We were informed that in the heavy landslide that occurred the previous night the bridge across Alaka had been washed off. We waited there till men from the Forces completed laying stones in the course to ready a makeshift replacement. We had to be really careful walking on those stones as one missed step could have tumbled us into danger’s hands. An officer and some local men held and guided us to cross the splash. We can only remember the help from them with gratitude as without them we would never have been able to cross the river at that point.
With each step our excitement only
bubbled over. The promise of our destination egged us on to climb faster. We
just had to behold the sight of the heavenly abode of flowers. Once we reached
the place we stood stunned in disbelief. The beauty was all consuming. Fairies
of flowers must have fallen there to make it such a blissfully pristine land of
diverse flora and fauna. I stood wondering at the pure love between
sky and earth there. Our add-ons there included the Himalayan flying squirrel,
a mole which looked and acted as cute as button, mighty snow capped peaks of Nandadevi,
silver stretch of Alaka beneath.
Next up was the Hemakund
Sahib. On the way we met people who were returning after visiting the place
in the Valley trail. They warned us about the much steeper and more difficult
trek to the highest Gurudwara (15,800 feet) in the world. But our spirits couldn’t
be extinguished. As a necessary precaution we decided to hire a pony for the next day. But seeing the
good number of visitors the khodawalas cashed in on the opportunity and skyrocketed their rates
to three times higher. We decided to trek up, but after 1 km we opted for
ponies to give a little respite to our burning toes and congested feet inside
trekking shoes. It was a real rollercoaster ride on the backs of those ponies.
We had to trust the animal but it always walked dangerously close to the brink.
My screams reverberated the entire ride, and not even a minute passed without
me calling the master of the pony I rode on. Master’s name was Shathrughan and Pony was
Bobby. I continued to chant “bhayya, Shathru, Bobby anthar” throughout the uphill ride rather embarassingly. Animals going down
and going up always had a confrontation on the congested path and often my
heart came to my mouth. During the resting time for these ponies, we were got
off their backs by being carried in hands, irrespective of one's weight.
At the Hemakund Sahib we got to taste the
generous hospitality of the Sikh people as they do in all their Gurudwaras. We
were treated with delicious hot food which injected the much needed dose
of energy after the tiresome trek. We were chilled to death and hot food helped
us save narrowly. We clicked some snaps near Sarowar Sahib
which was not frozen at the time. Our time was well spent around the premises
of Hemakund Sahib. Though we had paid for the up and down pony ride, four of us
opted to trek down mainly out of fear, i swear we got the best sight ever in
our trip in our return trek.
We experienced the grandeur of Himalayas exactly as what we had
seen in pics, the glaciers appeared like pastries, the boulders and rocks
reminding us of different shapes. We witnessed the peek-a-boo with the
mesmerizing mist and picturesque peaks of Nandadevi, the cheerfully bluish hue
setting the sensational ambience for the eternal love
between nature and the skies.
On our way back, as
planned we took photographs under the Malayalam board, but the scene was
different from what we saw on our climb. The place had a road slippage and
workers were busy clearing off the debris. They looked at us in sheer wonder as
we rushed to the board to pose under. That are at the time was very fragile and
passing drivers screamed at us to clear off from the place.
The Ganga arathis, the Prayags, I
can chronicle pages about it, but I have to stop somewhere. Our Badarinath trip
had to be called off on the way due to the road blockage resulted by
consecutive landslides, a very solid reason to visit that place again.
Last but not the least, a
word about the power ladies, the six of them I was blessed to have with me. The
free-spirited, calm and cool Sajna, the dauntless and debuting Deepa, our pet
pea Ponny, Preetha the master cracker, loveable leapfrogging Lini and our
motivation seeking Rumi Reshmi, they were the just the right blend of
personalities to have bonded together for the trip.
Still the tinkles of
the heavy pony bells and roars of Alakananda resoundingly echo in ears. Maybe
they will keep reverberating inside for the rest of my lifetime.
