When in quandary, forget the laundry and leave behind the sundry! If the mind starts churning such poetic lines about moribund lifestyle, a short trek is the ideal getaway. Treks are energising despite being physically challenging. The neoteric approach to trekking is all about adrenaline rush and social media frenzy. But one can consider it as a self-challenge and a retreat from our just-as-usual lives. This is because these on-foot journeys give you a chance to pause and look at the bigger picture. Well,I must say I also had the John Muir instinct of ‘The mountains are calling and I must go’ in minor proportions.
The chosen destination this time was Nag Tibba in Uttarakhand. We took a bus from Delhi to Chandigarh where our other trek mates joined us for the road trip till Pantwari. During the road journey, the radio was functioning rather erratically- the motion of the car and the windy roads made it difficult to catch the right frequency so it kept switching between different radio channels. Despite that, I thoroughly enjoyed the ‘mechanical medley’ of melodies. After every few songs, there was a radio message to mourn the death of 42 CRPF personnel in a suicide attack. Since I was wide wake unlike my trekking companions, my mind wandered, imagining family members of martyred soldiers ululating on the streets. I felt horrible for savouring the pulchritude of God’s gifts while one of His finest creations was engaged in self-destructive activities. The most I could do, sitting in the car, is pay a silent heartfelt homage to our brave men and pray to Him to lead us to peace. On reaching Pantwari village, we had a sumptuous pre-trek meal of parathas and tea.
 |
| Buffalo-ful welcome! |
I was waiting for the group to gather their bags when I thought that now it was high time, these communities reverse mentor the urbaners about ‘sustainable lifestyle’. Zero haste and zero waste!
 |
| Turns can be seen but not the path in between... |
 |
| Choose to dare! |
The banners around mentioned directions for Goat Village which is famously known as an eco-resort and camping site. The path was majorly rocky and uneven with route markers at many turns. Though we mostly had to walk up along the adrewt face, occasional turns towards the ubac face made me desperate to take off my sun cap and wear the woollen one. This was a trail made by the locals and was as narrow as the one that could have been formed by natural processes of weathering and erosion. The vegetation was majorly dry shrubs and thorny bushes. One could see the turns ahead but not the path in between.
 |
| Green highlighted strokes on a brown rough slope... |
Midway, we saw terrace gardens which appeared as if God had used a thick green highlighter across the curvy breadth of the Garhwal hills. We reached our campsite around 4 pm and started to pitch our tents, fill up our water bottles and chew on some munchies. As dusk set in, I observed a thin layer of clouds moving towards us and the canvas-ready scenery was right in front of me. The pearl white clouds concealed the cerulean sky behind it. The visible peaks were carpeted with oak forests and looked like bunch of broccoli arranged down the slope. This exotic scenery I paint through words may seem quixotic but there exists no feature more utopian than nature itself. Half an hour back, I was feeling shoulder pain and a irritating sensation of a toe wound as well. Wonder how it all vanished!
 |
| Filtered rays on 'brocolli'- lined slopey ways |
Soon, we took our cosy positions inside one of the tents and there began the shenanigans- games, lame jokes and maggi soup. We decided to retire early so that we can start the trek before dawn. Since it was only 8 pm, I lay wrapped like a burrito in my sleeping bag staring at the mesh on the top of the tent fabric as if trying to see the moonlight. The silence around was awe-inspiring and I could even hear the caesura in a bird’s song. The reason I urge my readers to visit the mountains is that they help you let go of your peccadilloes and find the inspiration for a fresh start. Tell any one tree or one peak about your worries and feel the gush of pure misty air run down your spine.
Next morning around 5:15 am, I heard Enosh urging us to wake up for the trek towards the destination. Before I could absorb what was happening, I was already walking towards the cliff ahead. My fingers were so cold and numb that I couldn’t feel my waist pouch, but I realised that what is more important is to take the next step carefully in the pitch dark. As we passed the traverse portion adjusting our flashlights, the gradient ahead was not just high but also more rocky. At this point, Manila started to feel high altitude sickness and Enosh decided to stay back with her. When he stopped me to give me this news, I was rather unresponsive. I knew Manila might need help but I also felt that we were to do this together as a team. He gave me his headlight as if passing on the baton of the mission. So symbolically appropriate!
 |
| Footsteps in the snow land |
The hike ahead was a delight not just for the ideal combination of oak trees and snow patches but also that we witnessed the night turning into day. To top it all, the warm sunshine, filtered through the interstices of the arching birch trees, was making the dew on the fallen dried leaves glisten. I devised a theory: Every creation in nature is predicated on the axiom of ‘less is more’ -the perfect place for outer order and inner calm. Just then, I realised that I may have walked too fast. I shouted out ‘Bhavesh’ and ‘Ambika’ and they happily shouted my name back even though I couldn’t see them. After 3 hours of walking, we could now see the snowline very clearly.
Ambika innocently tried to feel the snow with her foot and couldn’t take it out. In pits of laughter, she conveniently sat down with her legs shoved in the snow. Comfort in the most uncomfortable situations! As we trudged across the snowline, we saw a derelict thara(temporary shelter) which stood out as the only sign of human existence. I say this because now Jhandi top was right in front and multiple chains of mountain ranges could be viewed on the sides. The red flags of the Nag temple were quite distinct in this white tapestry. This temple is dedicated to Snake God who is also considered as the protector of cattle in the community. We rested there a while and sucked pieces of Cadbury chocolate (which were incidentally stuffed in my waist pouch) for they had become too hard to bite. After few snaps with the group and cherished moments of collective silence, we were good to walk back.
Enroute, the Himalayan bug bit us- we could see the campsite but not the right trail to follow. We tried tracing footsteps, plastic wrappers and even pug marks- so much for an unguided trek! After navigating through the forest and the sloshy slopes, we did find our own discovered track. Another common feature I noticed on this trek were collective heaps of hay bound to the birch tree barks. On enquiring later, I found that this was done to save dry fodder for the livestock. The hanging hay dried up faster after rain and could be given to the cattle even if the meadow grass was still wet and moist. The snow was now melting due to the sunshine and making the path slippery. Ritwik and I foolishly forgot and fell with a thud almost sliding down the trail. By now, the sun was shining bright and I was so tempted to doze off in the tent.
 |
| Leave no trace but leave with your zen! |
Credits to the senior most trekker amongst us, we could gormandise even on the campsite with pepper cheese, Hershey's filled biscuits and tomato sandwiches. We used our mini stove to make our morning cuppa and enjoyed the last few minutes at our own kaffeeklatsch there on the hills. Srishti mistakenly spilled her coffee and the next moment all of us were picking up things near her so that our bread, mobile and mattresses don’t get caffeinated! Amidst this hustle, she shouted that her pant was now drenched in coffee. There we stood laughing like minions- so bothered about our ‘minimal’ necessities that we didn’t think of asking if she was fine.
While packing our rucksacks, I remembered reading about the Leave no Trace principles propounded by the Leave No Trace Center For Outdoor Ethics. The core idea was to not leave behind any signs of human ’interference’ as it sets a wrong precedent for the people who come after us. So, we collected the garbage and picked up the leftover tit bits from our occupied area.
The descent is always the most introspective part for me because I have to mentally prepare myself to switch gears back to my professional and academic life. The deadlines, pending projects and incomplete conversations start coming to mind. Also, I like how this walk acts like the perfect cushion between what goes and what is to come. I respect the sanctity of treks when they finish because they leave me longing for more. I believe that nature leaves you in an obfuscating situation. It provides you just enough to call you back but if you stay too long, you might harm its charm by your presence (or shall I say interference).
Cliche as it may sound, life is too big to walk alone but too short to only think of ‘happier’ times in the future. It is important to appreciate pristine creations of God so that we don’t let material possessions blur our vision of a purposeful life. Climb mountains not so the world can see you but so you can see the world.
Comments
Post a Comment