The trekking sojourn

Snow before rains

Mountain living at its best

View from the base camp in Rumsu

One of my pit stops

Campfire. Scenery. Tents. Low temperatures. Warm clothes. And climbing.

I imagined trekking to be an amalgamation of some of these things until I went on one, myself. I have never really contemplated much about going on a trek in all these years, and for this very reason the   fact that I actually ended up going on one seems like an illusion to me. In fact, until I reached the base camp in Rumsu, I was under the impression that my trek to Bhrigu Lake, located in the Kullu district of Himachal Pradesh, India, would be a walk around the scenic mountains of Himalaya with my only input being my thoughts about how to keep myself warm at all times and carrying protein-rich food with me.  

''Come on, madam; you cannot get tired so early. Your trek has not even started,'' said the guide, when we went for an acclimatization walk around the camp site. Running out of breath after 45 minutes into the first walk was quite unnerving, and it seriously made me cast a doubt over my fitness levels. I soon realized that I was not supposed to rush, especially while scaling uneven surfaces. And once I reached the top of the hill, trust me, nothing felt better than seeing the same hill slope downwards. The acclimatization walk, which was followed by a rappelling session, served as an eye-opener for what was to follow over the next two days. Soon after the orientation session, I learnt that there were many others sailing in the same boat as me. A hearty laugh over what we thought to be our collective misery and misfortune took over our evening at the mess and helped us calm our anxious nerves, albeit for a little while. Something that only added to our miseries at such a juncture was the 4:30 a.m. wake up call scheduled for the next day. I had never experienced a more jittery night. Having our rucksacks in place, carefully depositing our utensils in the office and preparing to rest our aching muscles, we were ready to tuck ourselves inside the warmth of the sleeping bag for the next 5 hours.

The drive to Gulaba (where our trek to Bhrigu Lake started from) took some four hours. My journey uphill started with full gusto and fervour. My state of mind, after crossing every mountain, kept oscillating between awe (upon seeing the beauty of the sight) and wanting to give up. I soon decided to set small goals for myself, and started taking a short break after every 20 steps. The small breaks gave me some respite from panting and made me come to terms with the place where I had landed. And when you make an effort to connect with the nature you realize how it wants to glorify your presence in its midst in the most unexpected ways. The intermittent presence of dew drops on my bare skin, a picturesque view of lush green fields till as far as my eyes could wander, and a magnificent waterfall, which looked ready to challenge the most daring souls with its wild and rapid presence coupled with the random presence of snow-white horses across the waterfall was proof enough for me to believe that I had reached a place which was trying to lead me into heaven. All my fatigue from the trek was giving way to restlessness of wanting to reach the camp site in Rohli Kohli, from where were were to continue our climb to our final destination the next day. Later in the evening, I decided to enjoy a steaming-hot bowl of soup by the ice-cold Himalayan river.

''Ah...ah...ahhhhhh,'' shouted Vivek, a fellow group member, upon seeing Risha glide down a snow-capped  mountain accidentally, while walking along a narrow stretch of ice. We were just an hour away from reaching our last destination after having trekked uphill for almost three and a half hours in the morning, when this incident shook us up. Vivek's scream reverberated in our guide's ears in such a manner that even before he could bat an eyelid he jumped on his feet made his way down the slippery snow slide in order to stop Risha from going down any further. As first time trekkers, this unfortunate and uncanny happening acted as a signal for us to not go any further as we had already begun to battle moderate amounts of rainfall by that time. Coming down to the camp site was not exactly the most invigorating experience as we missed the chance of going till the very end. But we were certain that the regret of not witnessing the ultimate glory should not come at the cost of a human life. Nonetheless, I came back with much more than I ever envisioned this trek to bestow me with. I came back with a consolation prize of becoming more disciplined, patient and getting a lesson in cultivating a never-say-die spirit. And lastly, I can say it with utmost pride that I survived all the storms to devour a spicy, hot bowl of maggie on my way down to the point where my trek began.