Munsyari : Exhilaration in the High Himalayas…
It actually
hit us only when we stood looking at the map in the tourist bungalow en route
to Munsyari. 250 km from our railhead, we had thought, we'd be there in a
couple of hours. We had forgotten the ways of the mountains.
The map brought us back to reality. Right on the top was the small dot that
was Munsyari, right at the end of a lone line representing the end of the
road, literally, that petered off into nothingness… Surrounding the small
dot that was our destination were large expanses of white, marked with names
of glaciers…
Munsyari.
Gateway to the Greater Himalayas. Stunning snow-laden peaks of the Panch Chuli.
Emerald green alpine meadows. Ethereal rhododendron forests.
A small shiver of anticipation ran up our spines. What adventures did she
hold in store for the Wildertrailers?...
From
the time the Wildertrailers boarded the train to Delhi for the first lap of
the Himalayan Expedition, the gods smiled on them. The weather was unbelievably
pleasant, with mild, cloudy weather throughout and some rain as well in Delhi,
just enough to settle the dust.As
we traveled up into the mountains, the sun melted away our fears of bad weather
and blizzards, and we reached Munsyari after a clear day - and a 10-hour drive
that took us through a variety of landscapes… picturesque rivers, pine
forests, wayside hamlets, the occasional landslide… winding higher and
yet higher into the sunset…
In spite of our drivers' best efforts, our late start had delayed us, and
it was dark before we reached Munsyari. A slow silence enveloped both the
vehicles as the chill set in, and in the pitch dark, illuminated only by the
sweep of our headlights, we watched in nail-biting suspense as our drivers
expertly manoeuvred the vehicles around the narrow bends and landslide debris…
waiting with bated breath for the next milestone…
What a relief it was when we spotted the zero milestone! Within minutes, we
pulled up outside our base camp, and there, a couple of hundred feet above
us, the inviting tents that were to be home to us… Heave ho, backpacks
up, and our climbing holiday had begun in earnest!
Next morning came the acclimatization trek, an easy! half-day climb of around
4 km, that left many of us huffing and panting. The climb took us to a lovely
fairy-tale pool tucked away in the forest, a brief glimpse of Gadhwal beauty
that left us eager for more. By the time we turned back, our muscles had loosened
up somewhat, our lungs gasping a little less for air, and it was time to think
of packing for the momentous, three-day trek in the lap of the mountains,
at the mercy of the elements…
At 9 am the next morning, the Wildertrailers set off, with backpacks on back,
dandas in hand, mule train laden with tentage, kitchen stuff and everything
the group might be likely to need in the next three days… not really
knowing what to expect, with brave hearts and a little trepidation… "Asking
for three days without rain is like asking for the moon", we were told,
"so be prepared to get drenched and chilled to the bone. You might also
have to climb through snow."
So we carried rain-wear, extra shoes, extra clothes, extra warm clothes, the
works. Heading the entourage was our nimble, enthusiastic trek leader Vivek
- with the rear brought up, of course by the Major, at home in his dear Gadhwals…
The
first day's climb was tough. After a short stretch through forest and road,
we hit a mule-track or pakh dandhi which took us hour after hour through green
meadow and forest, until finally, at around 1.30 pm, Vivek took pity on us
and decided to halt for lunch! Off came the backpacks in a trice, and the
group rested weary limbs and unused muscles and stocked up on oxygen. By the
time we had recovered enough to admire the scenery, Vivek sprung the first
surprise on us. "You guys rest a little, I'll go ahead with Narayan (the
cook) and set up camp - it's a fairly straightforward route from here"
he reassured us. And then the parting shot - "Anyway, it's not real trekking
unless you get lost a little, isn't it? We'll have soup ready by the time
you arrive"… Soup? If we had been a little wiser, or more experienced,
we might have understood the implications of that…
By sunset, after scrabbling on all fours up steep, slippery slopes, seeing
real and imagined arrows pointing to the right trail - and climbing for what
seemed an eternity, camp was still not in sight. Then suddenly, the mist started
swirling in, and mild panic set in, with voices calling for VIVEK! MOHAMMED!
ASHWIN! DIVYA! only to be met with silence. And then Eureka! a torch light
signaling the way, friendly hands helping with backpacks and finally the meadow!
with its welcome tents - and the promised hot soup!
We had covered about 14 km and climbed over 2500 feet that day.
The Wildertrailers' first night out in the Himalayas was probably remarkable
for the fact that everybody was so tired, there was nothing on anybody's mind
but sleep. But the cold crept in, and the condensation left everything inside
the tent wet, including our sleeping bags… and all too soon the sunlight
glowed orange through the tents…
"Breakfast ready," came Vivek's cheerful call, and we got out of
our tents reluctantly. "Today's trek is a cakewalk", he grinned.
"Just 6 km - up to the top of this hill and then it's all meadow".
We looked at him doubtfully, not really believing him. "We'll be at Kalia
by lunch", he continued, "and if the weather holds, we'll go for
the peak in the afternoon".
The second day's climb was much easier, and the Wildertrailers had got warmed
up. The morning mist still hung low as we set off on a lovely, fairly steep
trail that led through an almost unreal looking rhododendron forest - with
the flowers changing from pink to purple to white as we climbed higher and
higher… Before long we hit the meadow, or bugiyal, and then suddenly,
Mohammed was back. "Hey Ashwin, you're missing the fun, man - Divya and
Chaitu are playing in the snow! And Ashwin, who had hung back to help his
mother, was off like a rocket!
The meadow was
picture-perfect - a rolling emerald-green carpet dotted with yellow and purple
wild flowers, the mist rising to reveal a breathtaking view of majestic ranges,
and then, our first patch of snow… with snowball fights et al…
The campsite we reached in about half an hour later was even more stunning.
The velvet green bugiyal had a small stream gurgling through, and in the background
rose slopes still covered with patches of snow… A quiet peace descended
on the group, and there was all the time to stand and stare…
After lunch came the assault on Kalia Peak, the highest point in the range.
Vivek issued a challenge. "Anybody who can reach the top climbing only
through the snow gets a free trip to Milam Glacier". Mohammed, Chaitanya
and Ashwin took up the challenge - and actually climbed up quite a distance
- leaving Vivek quite impressed. A two-hour climb up the steep, grassy slopes
took us to the top - and we stood on the peak, experiencing the thrill of
conquest even as the clouds parted to show us the sun…
A slow, careful descent down the steep slopes, with the Major telling us where
to place each foot, and the more nimble of the Wildertrailers helping the
rest, and we were soon back, ready for the welcome soup. Dinner was a gala
affair, with campfire and kheer, and Vivek in his element regaling us with
Kumaoni love songs!
In the morning we had our first taste of rain. But the weather-gods were kind
- it rained - and hailed! only when we were in our tents. Vivek quickly made
contingency plans for both pushing on or staying back, depending on the weather.
Ultimately, the rain let up by noon, and in record time we had lunch, broke
camp and were off once more.
This time we took a steep waterway down, filled with huge, knee-breaking boulders,
lined with rhododendron and a variety of mosses and pretty wild flowers that
were a photographer's delight. The sun broke out as we descended, treating
us to brilliant views of snow-covered ranges - the Nanda Devi Basin, Panch
Chuli, a couple of dazzling white peaks in Nepal, glaciers… By late afternoon,
we had descended into yet another meadow, with an unbelievable view of the
massive peaks that looked like they were within touching distance! A short
halt for some memorable photographs, and we moved on, as our campsite was
still a few hours away.
As we moved on the landscape changed dramatically once more, this time to
a green, dark forest with the ground criss-crossed with gnarled roots and
soft leaf litter. We chanced on some caves as well, wondering in passing what
creature it might be home to.
By now it was
getting dark, and the muleteers who had gone ahead were nowhere in sight.
Vivek had his doubts. This was a new, experimental campsite - had they lost
their way? Or, more worrying - had they misunderstood and gone on to Munsyari?
Our cook Narayan scouted around in all directions and couldn't find them.
What would we do without our tents - and our kitchen? And in the minds of
the Wildertrailers, another unasked question - where was our campsite anyway?
And how were we going to get there in the dark when climbing in the daylight
was tough?
The stage was set for another Wildertrails adventure.
"Torches out, everybody. I said everyone." insisted a suddenly stern
Vivek, who had before him the daunting task of leading us to safety first,
and then finding a way of spending the night. "On with your woolens,
please - whether you're feeling cold or not" added the Major, who had
already decided that we would spend the night at the campsite around a fire,
tent or no tent. It was practically dark by now except for a benevolent moon,
and the group gingerly picked its way down the trail, torches out, in single
file, attention focussed totally on where the next foot would be placed, silently
wondering what was in store for the night…
For what
seemed an eternity, Vivek led us around the ridge of the hill, picking the
easiest routes, literally guiding us step by step, walking backwards, running
up and down the slopes, displaying his intimate knowledge of the area. On
cue from the Major, several Wildertrailers also switched off their torches,
and realised that they could see quite well by the moonlight. Two hours later,
we finally saw the distant flicker of fire… was it our Narayan who had
gone ahead? Or some shepherds? It didn't really matter by now - all we wanted
was to reach the fireside. Soon we heard the sound of bells as the shepherds'
Bhutia guard dog came up to check us out - and shortly after, the characteristic
strange sounds made by our deaf-mute muleteer Bhupal! Oh what music it was
to the ears of the Wildertrailers! We were home at last! A strange smell assaulted
our noses - and suddenly we noticed that the slopes were covered with hundreds
of sheep!
Within minutes, we were guzzling Narayan's delicious soup by the mugful, and
the beauty of our campsite slowly sank in. The meadow was in a valley that
offered 180 degree view, literally like an amphitheatre, with moonlit, snow-covered
peaks on every side. Soon we were pitching the tents by torchlight, and then
it was dinner and into bed. As we turned in, Vivek voiced a sobering thought.
"The gods have been kind to us, sir" he told the Major, echoing
the feeling several of us had. "We were lucky it didn't rain, and that
there was moonlight, and no mist…
The morning saw
us waking to a grey drizzle. It was now time to head back to Munsyari. Breakfast
over, we waited for a lull in the rain to break camp, and in an hour or so,
we were off on the last lap of our trek. Soon we hit what was had been by
now nicknamed the Great Wall of Munsyari, and followed its steep descent down
to our destination. But we seemed to be going on forever. Just when we thought
we were almost there, Vivek would veer off in another direction… was
he playing a trick on us? Taking us on a longer route just to show us this
waterfall? Didn't he know how much we longed for that promised hot bath? But
Vivek just kept grinning till we finally reached…
That evening, apparently for the first time in months, the sky was crystal
clear, and the heavens put on a dazzling show by moonlight. The Panch Chuli
glistened softly, and we could see the peaks for miles around… a memory
we would carry with us perhaps forever….
Reluctantly, we said our goodbyes the next morning. The trek had been tough,
but we had done it. Now we knew the hills with an intimacy that had not been
there before. As we drove down, we could look at the different kinds of terrain
and say, "This I have climbed. And this. And this." In a subtle
way, the relationship had changed, from a distant admiration to a personal
sense of belonging. And we wondered, is it this that brings people back to
the hills again and again?
Adieu Munsyari… Till Milam Glacier, perhaps?
When's the next mountain climb? - I want more details.
Become a Wildertrailer! Sign up NOW!
Wildertrails home | about Wildertrails | feedback | site map
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|||||
 |
 |
 |
|
|||
 |
|
|||||
 |
 |
|
||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
 |
|
||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
 |
|
||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
 |
|
||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
 |
|
|||||
