It is said that
treks are more about mental strength than about physical strength. It couldn’t
have been any truer for Roopkund. Located at 15,750 feet in the heart of the
Himalayas, this trek endures one as much as it mesmerizes. Perhaps that is why
despite all the hardships and self-doubts when one reaches the summit, the joy
of victory tastes utterly sweet. Perhaps, that is also why upon returning back
to the city life one realizes that a part of the soul is left behind…
The trek to this
mysterious lake began at Lohjung which serves as the base camp for the 6-day
trek. At 7,600 feet, this small village in the Gadhwal range is exactly what a
traveller would desire. A tiny village set amidst the mountains with just the bare
minimum at your disposal. This was also the day we get to have our last warm
water bath before we set out for our 6-day adventure. Introductions with the
team were brief, instruction session long. Our first introductions were with
the few trekkers who had returned halfway and were awaiting their teams before
heading back home. We were told that 95% of each group completes the trek.
Which meant the remaining 5% did not. Would that 5% from our group be us?
The next morning
we proceeded to the base village which was a half hour ride. Anticipation was
building up simply looking at the vast ranges around us. We began through the
dense green trail of coniferous trees arching high up to reach the sun. Several
birds singing sweet tunes kept playing hide and seek with us through the woods.
Every once in a while a local house would pop up with kids standing outside
wishing us Namaste and asking us for
chocolates.
The stone trail
gradually grew tougher and steeper. The climb started leaving most of us
breathless – and this was just the first day! The first relief was the cool
stream of Neel Ganga. The fresh splash of the chilling water was most
refreshing. With rejuvenated vigour, we quickly replenished our bottles and got
back moving. Albeit, our enthusiasm was short lived. The energy was getting
rapidly exhausted, each step was proving to be a challenge. Some of the more
experienced trekkers were way ahead of us and the gap was widening – causing
all the more despair. Our sweeper Mr. Vijay was our only source of motivation. His
constant mantra was “bas aa gaya, aage hi
hai, aur 10 minutes bas”. He went on with this for at-least one hour.
Finally, after
almost an eternity, we could see tiny black spots in the distance. Campsite at
last! Ghairoli Pataal is the quintessential campsite set in the middle of the
woods. It gave a rustic feel with the logs lying around, a herd of sheep
passing us by and the campfire burning bright. The realization of being
isolated from the world was beginning to sink in. As night set in, the only
sound was of leaves being caressed by soft gushes of wind. Nature’s lullaby put
us into an instant deep sleep.
The second day
was a light one. We were told to be up by 5:30 am, and were to depart by 7 am.
Of course, being Indians, we took the liberty of following our own timezone. Nonetheless,
we took a final headcount and started on our way to Bedni Bugiyaal. We had been
hearing a lot about Bedni ever since the start of the trek. It was claimed to
boast of the highest meadow in the world. But before that, we were to cross Ali
Bugiyaal on the way - which was another pleasant meadow that was known to be a
photographer’s paradise. We couldn’t wait to see it for ourselves.
After ascending
for a fairly long time when we still couldn’t see any opening, we were
beginning to lose hope out of exhaustion. And just then it appeared. The
landscape suddenly turned from brown to green. The sky was draped in the purest
shade of blue. Strokes of white clouds washed over it like a painter’s strokes.
The snow-capped peaks of the Trishul and Nandagunti peeped at us in the
distance painting a mesmerizingly beautiful picture. A small rock temple in the
centre of the meadow, a team of horses rolling in a pit of dry sand, and an
unbelievably beautiful carpet of yellow, purple and pink flowers completed the
picture of this heaven on earth.
If Ali Top was
heaven, then Bedni made us feel like residents of heaven. An endless stretch of
the moor with a tiny pond in the backdrop, soft winds gushing unobstructed and
the view of the snow mountains in the forefront. What more can one ask for! Oh,
and we get to live there!
As if the view
was not enough, we were in for another adventure. The army camp was set right
next to ours. And when our group set out to play cricket, even the uniform could
not stop them from joining us. And what a game it turned out to be! Team Army
seemed to be pretty experienced in their game and set a target of 55 for Team
Indiahikes. Poor team Indiahikes barely knew their teammates, let alone knowing
their strengths. Needless to say, they got into a bad start, inviting several
funny humiliations from the army opponents. But hold your horses. These
underdogs were not to be mistaken for amateurs. After a Lagaan style game thriller game, the decision boiled down to the
last ball, when Team Indiahikes hit a 4! A four at the last ball! A memorable win
for Team Indiahikes!
The cricket game
combined with steaming hot pakodas served
as true ice-breakers for the group. Suddenly the group turned chirpy. Bedni had
worked its magic and given us some amazing memories to cherish for a lifetime.
From Bedni to
Paatal Nauchni and from there on to Bagwa Baasa, the trail changed its form
from rugged rawness to snow-laden slipperiness. The rock structures became
sharper and the valleys grew deeper. Each one of us seemed to have developed
acrophobia all of a sudden when walking over the narrow paths overlooking the
valleys. The might of the Himalayas was now becoming evident. Yet, sometimes
whining, sometimes cheering, we proceeded slowly each day towards our
campsites. The campsites were another spectacle by themselves – facing deep
valleys without any obstruction, allowing the wind to blow over the plain camp
area mercilessly. The temperature also started to drop steeply from this point
on, and we knew that the most challenging part of the trek had just about
begun.
At last, the
summit day was here. As told by the technical team, the way forward was now to
be an expedition and not just a trek.
And truly, it was a test of determination and mental persistence more than the
just physical strength. As we crossed one snow-clad mound after the other,
energies started getting exhausted, technical difficulties began to increase
and courage began to diminish. And yet, one step at a time, we moved forth. The
lake continued to play hide and seek with us, making us believe that our
destiny laid just beyond this last ascend, and then hiding again behind yet
another small climb.
The Summit – at
last we made it! What a feeling, what a rush, what a sense of achievement! The
energies were revitalized just at the sight of our frozen lake. Our joyful
cheering would have surely awakened the so called meditating monks had they
been around. But what can one do, the exhilaration was beyond what can be
expressed in words.
As a last word,
I cannot say how many times during the 6-day period we would have questioned
our decision to put ourselves through this pain through a conscious decision -
decided to embark on this unpredictable journey in the mightiest mountain range
of India with 20 strangers, to live through the difficult conditions, sleeping
in cramped bags on hard rock or freezing snow, going without a bath for 6 days
straight, enduring aching knees and
ankles and shoulders and necks day after day, finding that ounce of motivation
from some hidden corner inside us to step out of the comfort of the tent to
visit the shaky washroom tent or struggling through the chilling breeze to get
a cup of coffee, and most of all, each day fighting and facing our fears and
taking that “one more step” to keep going until we would finally get a sight of
the tiny dots on a barren stretch of land that marked our campsite.
I found the
answers in several forms during the course of this 6 days – sometimes in the
form of the support from our guide and sweeper, sometime in the form of cheer
and motivation from our trek buddies, sometimes in form of the reward that the
Himalayas bestowed upon us in form of incomparable splurge of beauty, sometimes
in the form of the rush and thrill we derived after successfully completing a
difficult patch. But mostly, the best answer was the one I got only once I returned
to the chaos of the city-life and began to feel this emptiness that craved for
one more glimpse of the mountains that allowed us to trespass them and accepted
us as a warm host only too happy to shower its mirth upon its guests. The answer
hid in the answer to yet another simple question – would I do it again? Yes, a
million times over!
