Roopkund

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!