This is an account of my trek to Sar Pass located somewhere in the Himalayas at about 13,800 feet in the state of Himachal Pradesh in the month of May…
It was with an intense desire to witness snow that I decided to sign up for the YHAI trek to Sar Pass. The low cost was an added incentive to go on this trek! 3152/- for a 10 day Himalayan trek…for someone who travels on a shoe string budget, YHAI is definitely a boon. But for someone who treasures her solitude, this trek did prove to be stressful with regard to the number of people in a single group – around 50 in my batch!
I pride myself in the ability to remain detached in a throng of people. Unfortunately, on this trek thanks (or rather, NO THANKS!!!) to one particular fellow trekker, I lost my beloved anonymity within a few days of joining the YHAI camp. A bad start to an otherwise beautiful journey in the mountains filled with the untouched beauty of Mother Nature.
The YHAI camp was surprisingly thronging with people. I guess there were about 200 of us on any given day. That’s how you cut costs… a valuable lesson learnt. And the meal times usually looked like an Indian Wedding banquet… what with all the decorations in the camp. Well, the food wasn’t befitting a wedding buffet, nonetheless it was nourishing food. Although the occasional fly in my dal wasn’t that nourishing I believe. I am cursed to find all the wrong things in my food!!! Out of all the many people in the camp, I can guarantee I would have been the only one to have found the lovely creature in my bowl… No hard feelings for the poor fly, after all he drowned in my bowl of dal which ultimately went down the drain…
There were about 20 tents, each housing 10 people. The tents were clean and cozy. The people in my tent remained the same from day 1 to day 10. I am not entirely sure if that was a good thing. 10 strangers (more or less) brought together for one common goal… to trek. Well, it was almost a reality show in the making…the minor skirmishes, the late-night gossip, the occasional tears, the animal-sounding snores…unforgettable memories I shall treasure for a lifetime…
The first three days of the trek were spent at the base camp in Kasol. On the very first day, I had the sheer bad luck to witness a gruesome accident. A beautiful black pup that had been happily playing with the campers in the morning was run over by a bus L …another bad omen. There were just two of us who witnessed this. No one else… For someone, who believes in fate, the signs weren’t looking good. In the first place, our train tickets never got confirmed and we had to get last minute confirmed tickets … jugaad. My family didn’t want me to come… I can still recall verbatim the lecture I got on how I got my priorities wrong… the rebel that I am… my heart chose to go… so did I…
After the excruciating heat in the train and a group of guys giving unsolicited marital advice, we had to go through a harrowing bus journey from Chandigarh to Bhuntar… luck was running against us right from the start…
Luck remained mixed throughout the journey…
We rested on the first day. The next two days included an acclimatization walk which was beautiful to say the least. Walking through the thick canopy… up and down… it was an acclimatization of sorts. I was mainly getting acclimatized to being around so many people… I honestly believe I was a pahadi in my last life… (in much better health than I am in this life, of course)… so the nature acclimatization wasn’t really needed…
We also did some rock climbing and rappelling. I have always loved climbing, whether they be rocks, trees or good old drain pipes on the building walls… needless to say the rock climbing was awesome… Rappelling, on the other hand, wasn’t that exciting. I would have preferred climbing down with bare hands. But it was a good experience…apart from being told by the instructor that two people my size could fit into the harness….which was true, so I don’t blame him for making me feel unhealthy which I know I am…
I bought some rain gear at the local Kasol market as I had intelligently left my sturdy rainwear back home… AFTER having read the do’s and don’ts of previous Sar Pass trekkers… I was loving my luck with each passing moment…
It was on the fourth day that we finally set out. I was loaded with a bag that the group leader thought was too heavy. A lot of people find it very strange that I can carry so much weight in spite of having not much weight on myself… one of god’s mysteries…I guess…
The first day’s trek was to Grahan. The trek was tiring. A friend fell sick… usually I am the one who falls sick… so this was a totally new experience… my ‘falling sick’ day was soon to come though L luck was still playing games…
The sun was scorching down on us… sapping away what little energy we had left. But overall it was a nice trek. We sighted a lammergeier at the lunch point. Luck does have funny ways of showing itself…
On the way to Grahan, we met Meenakshi Didi and Reena. That’s where we discovered that you can hire porters to carry your bags. … Now, that was a surprise… no comments though… they were lovely people… I have always found pahadis have this really mischievous innocent look… so did they… some of the most beautiful people I have met… our journey then on was together as a few other trekkers hired them as porters… although for them, I believe, they merely remained porters but for me they became friends… friends who took care of me when I fell sick… friends who shared some heartfelt memories… Meenakshi Didi was a sweet soul, always smiling although she had lost her husband in a very cruel way… long live the mountain spirit… and may god bless their souls for helping a stranger like me… Luck did smile back at me after all…
Grahan camp was small. Just five tents and a stinking loo… I feel pukish at the thought of it… so I shall not describe it further. So, Grahan was the first camp, where I answered nature’s calls in the lap of nature and from then on, it remained so…
After some tuneless Antakshri at the nightly campfire, we hit the sleeping bags around 10, I guess. The next day we started late around 9. The walk to the next camp Padri was nice. Slight showers but the newly bought raingear was helpful.
It turned out we were forbidden to enter the camp before three pm. It was raining, some of us were wet… but no, rules are rules and the guide decided to stick to them… can’t blame him though... he didn’t make the rules… some supposedly very intelligent people at YHAI made them… I shall not whine…
Padri was beautiful… and there one of our fellow trekkers got us a piece of snow/ice… I can still picture that moment when he thrust a block of snow into my outstretched palm… finally I get to feel the snow… there was much more to come… and I couldn’t wait to witness it…
But Padri was a mixed bag… the spiting machine was getting worse by the day… I spit here… I spit there… I spit everywhere… I don’t care if it’s unhygienic… I don’t care if the 50-odd people I am with are disgusted… I don’t care if the very sight of me makes someone nauseous… I shall spit where I please… may it be right where people wash vessels… rinse their mouths... wash their faces… spitting is my birthright and no one can take it away from me…
My humble request to YHAI – PLEASE BAN SPITTING ON YOUR TREKS!!!
Being allergic to smoke, I had to take a pill which didn’t go down well just like most pills never do… so next day I woke up with a very very bad throat and a running nose. And also, the night before, I lost my cool and screamed at someone in the dark… didn’t even know who until later… socializing wasn’t going so well… what can I say… nothing in my defense… my loss of anonymity was costing me dearly…
Padri to Ratapani was painful. I pushed myself to the limit. I didn’t want to give up. A few vomits later, I almost gave up. But help was right beside me… the burden on my back was shared by some kind souls… I curse my luck for falling sick (also my poor health, I must admit)…but as luck would have it, I was with some very helpful people… I trekked from Padri to Ratapani on half a bar of chocolate offered to me by another kind soul… the mountain spirit had spread to several others I guess… luck was still playing games…
It was at the lunch point before Ratapani that a fight broke out… no details… I despise gossip on a public platform…
It was on the way to Ratapani that I witnessed patches of snow… snow… that is what I had come to see… I was stumbling with exhaustion… doubting whether I would make it to Sar Pass… I was tired… yet I moved on… I was the first to make it to the camp… where I met Mr Sunil Gupta… who offered me what I wanted the most… COUGH SYRUP… having absolutely no stomach for antibiotics, I was dying for a syrup… and he happened to have some… luck was at it again…
Another bout of vomiting followed… but Meenakshi didi’s homemade concoction worked wonders… I have never recovered from throat infection as quickly as I did on that trek… I couldn’t enjoy the sights that Ratapani had to offer though.
The next day, we set off for Nagaru. It was a beautiful trek. Up and up we went. I was gasping for breath and would occasionally lean on my stick to catch a breath. That stick was brilliant. Unfortunately, I had to leave it at Sar Pass.
It was on the way to Nagaru that the snow line began. Snow everywhere… it was mesmerizing. Snow on my camera got me back to reality and I rushed to clean it up. Here I encountered the most sour-faced camp leader of all the camps… the less said the better. The camp was on a slope. It was dangerous to say the least. The female population didn’t want to answer nature’s calls in partial public view… the restrictions didn’t go down well with some, etc etc etc… The tensions were slowly beginning to surface… they had begun long ago when certain unruly people were asked to leave the camp…
Nagaru was cold. We went off to bed early as we had to leave at 3 am the next day. It was the day; we would climb the summit of Sar Pass! IT WAS THE DAY I WISHED I WOULD BE A SHERPA IN MY NEXT LIFE… THEY WERE AMAZING PEOPLE… Honestly, they were showing off at times as they knew they were awesome!!! But then, they were actually awesome!!!
We trekked through snow. My shoes (Quechua – Forclaz Lady) paid off. They were sturdy, didn’t slip and didn’t get soaked in the snow… luck, oh dear luck… it was peeping out again… It was a beautiful day. Our guide, Khem Thakur was egging us on. The sun was coming up and if the snow melted, we would be in a whole lot of trouble. So, we marched on… left right left…
the view was breathtaking… It was a dream come true… it was years ago that I had planned on a snow trek… and here I was… luck may be cruel at times… but I don’t mind as long as it takes me to places like these… it’s in moments like these that I wish I could travel forever… I was thankful that fate had brought me here…
And then there was the snow slide. That was a mixed experience. Khem Thakur firmly refused to let me keep my stick but promised me he would get me one when we reached the bottom… he kept his promise… and I carried it all the way back home… in memory of a lovely guide who probably saved a lot of lives…
The reason I am saying this is… on the next day a trekker made the mistake of carrying his stick with him… also he did not loosen the bag strap on the hip (as was advised by Khem Thakur)… the result was a shoulder dislocation… And it was Khem Thakur who ultimately helped the guy get medical aid without taking any monetary compensation in return, unlike the others who extorted exorbitant amounts of money to help the injured trekker. On a more serious note, the camp leader at Biskeri offered the guy Relispray to put on his dislocated shoulder… Don’t these camp leaders have any medical training!!! No wonder the trek cost us 3152/-
Biskeri wasn’t a very memorable experience… a really gross group imitation of the spitting machine unlocked long held-back tears… I would rather erase that camp site from memory…
After Biskeri, it was downhill till Bandakthatch. Going downhill, my toes went from bad to worse. But the trek was lovely. I stayed back to escape those who brought back memories of the previous day. It was a good decision. We also crossed a gushing stream. It was actually a glacier draining out or something of that sort. It was beautiful. I was so lost in its beauty that I stood in the middle of the log connecting the two sides of the stream oblivious to the others. It was only when the guide came to offer me help; I realized that the others thought I was stuck!!! For a moment, I had forgotten the others were there… I felt alone and blissful… a moment I shall cherish for a long time to come…
Bandakthatch was more beautiful than I could have imagined. Snow clad peaks all around… Meenakshi didi made me some more of her homemade tea and it was refreshing… another night of discordant songs… but I didn’t care anymore… I had seen heaven… and whenever I shut my eyes I find myself back there…nature in all its glory…
The next day we set off for Barsheni from where we had to catch a bus to Manikaran. Met some not so good people on the way… they were a weird breed of Pahadis… unhelpful and roguish…
At Barsheni, we luckily caught the bus just in time. And to my pleasant surprise, Meenakshi didi had saved me a nice seat… how do you thank such innocent generosity? Well, I tried to in my own weird way… she had put on my hat… and she looked lovely in it… so I gave it to her… that hat had travelled with me to almost all corners of India and to some places abroad… I loved it… it took me a lot of strength to part with it… but I am glad I gave it to a lovely human being…
We got down at Manikaran, we lunched at the Langar and then a nice hot bath in the hot springs. A bath after more than a week, it was … it was an entirely new experience… and weird…
At Kasol base camp, the ambience wasn’t very welcoming. Something in the air had changed. I would rather not dwell on it. But it felt like the YHAI organizers would have preferred if we had checked out that very day. We were technically allowed to stay for the night and leave the next day… and that’s what we did… and also witnessed a group of drunken revelers get kicked out… I feel sad for them… they were the only ones who got caught…
Luck was turning again… unfortunately not in my favor… we bought bus tickets for our journey from Bhuntar to Delhi. There was only one bus that left at 6.30 in the evening. There was a possibility that we might miss our train from Delhi. The bus was 6 hours late being caught up in a traffic jam, we did miss our train. The journey back home was terrible. We got down at Karnal hoping to catch a local train that would get us early to Delhi but didn’t get one. Got onto a bus that broke down at Gharonda on the highway. Got onto another bus which dropped us at Panipat. From there a bus to Delhi, which dropped us there at 12.30. Two and a half hours after our train had gone!!! And that is the story of the day when I missed a train for the first time ever in my life!!!
What followed after that makes me cringe even now. 24 hours on an unreserved ticket on a berth occupied by 4 other unreserved ticket travellers. That was the day I sat upright for one entire day!!! And got bit by bed bugs!!! After witnessing heaven, we got thrown into hell… luck and its myriad games…
Thankfully, we happened to be in the right place at the right time. That was the only vacant berth and we happened to be on it by sheer luck. So, you see, I can’t even blame luck… after all it could have been worse… imagine standing for 24 hours!!!
Sar Pass was heavenly… I met some beautiful people… and the mountains were incomparable in their sheer beauty… no matter how cruel luck might have been at times… I would gladly live through it again… if only to witness heavenly bliss at Sar Pass once again…
