Miyar Valley - Aug 2015

The Miyar nallah starts from a glacier in the Zanskar range and joins the Chandrabhaga (later the Chenab) 50 kms downstream at Udaipur. The access to the valley is from Udaipur. State transport busses run from Manali to Keylong over the Rohtang pass, a journey of 5 hrs and from Keylong to Udaipur, a journey of another 4-5 hrs. The Pir Panjal range ( which is crossed at Rohtang) blocks monsoon clouds. So the region north of it - including Keylong, Udaipur and the Miyar valley - does not get much rain in the monsoons. So July and August are good months to trek in this area. 

I started out to do this trek with a local guide. I had with me basic camping gear for two people - a two man tent, small multi fuel stove and cooking pot for two - besides my sleeping bag, mat and warm clothes.

Triloknath village 

Aug 5th:

Keylong to Udaipur

The bus for Udaipur departs from Keylong at 8 am. The road takes us past pretty and prosperous looking villages along the Chandrabhaga. Houses have steep corrugated tin roofs painted in bright colors.

We cross a bridge over the Chandrabhaga elaborately decorated with prayer flags and then climb up above the left bank to Triloknath. I have heard that the temple here is sacred for both Hindus and Buddhists of Lahaul. I decide to stop and visit the temple and take the next bus to Udaipur. Hindu's consider the deity to be Shiva while Buddhists consider it to be Avalokiteshwara. Prayer wheels and flags adorn the parikrama. Triloknath village built on a little mound appears like a fortress from a distance with houses built next to and on top of each other crowding in the temple.

Mamu da dhaba, Udaipur

I have a long wait for the next bus to Udaipur and have to scramble to get a seat for there is a huge crowd waiting for it. I reach in the afternoon and it is burning hot. Few people are to be seen in the main market. I walk up and down through the market, spot all the guest houses and settle on one above a provision store, agreeing to a  rent of Rs 600 per day. The proprietor recommends Prakash dhaba and Mamu dhaba as the best places for food.

After lunch at Prakash dhaba, I make enquiries about the Miyar Valley - availability of transport, accommodation, provisions, trekking guides etc in the valley. Several shopkeepers I talk to are from Miyar ( pronounced Miyad) valley. The proprietor of mamu da dhaba is the most helpful.

The road into Miyar Valley

There are two busses daily that do round trips into the valley - one leaves at 12 and the other at 5.30 pm. The evening bus return early next morning. There are no provision shops in the valley and I need to pick up all my rations in Udaipur. The only stay option is in the village of Shukto, close to Khanjar, the last village in the valley. Mamu tells me that he will try and arrange a guide for me after the bus comes in with Miyar villagers the next morning. He believes that I could as well just buy provisions and travel to the valley. I am sure to find a guide once I get there.

That evening, I walk a bit on the road into the valley that I will take tomorrow to see the narrow gorge and the steep cliffs on either side through which the Miyar exits and empties into the Chandrabhaga.

Aug 6:

Pradhanji, Khanjar

Udaipur to Khanjar (3450 m)

This morning, mamu tells me that he has not been able to find a guide. I  should just take the bus into Miyar and ask around in Khanjar.

I have made up a list of provisions for 2 people for 3-4 days and walk across to the kirana store just across the street from my room. My list includes dalia, rice, dal, atta, oil, potatoes and onions, tea, sugar,salt, dry fruits, soya nuggets and milk powder and matches. All of this adds up to just over 6 kg in weight.

The storekeeper is kind enough to get 1 liter of kerosene for me from his personal stock. He charges me only Rs 25 for it. I learn that kerosene is not generally available in the market in remote areas of HP. I have been lucky.

Khanjar school with newly renovated toilets

On returning to the guest house, the proprietor alerts me to the presence of a man in the vicinity who is known to work as a guide . I locate the person in question in a shop across just the road. His name is Sheru and he is with a young man who I guess is a trekker. Sheru after learning of my plan agrees to find a guide for me. I have been twice lucky this morning. We part after agreeing to meet on the noon bus for Miyar. 

The bus makes it way slowly through the villages of Miyar valley - Shakoli, Chamrat, Karpat, Gompa and on to Tingrit. At Tingrit there is a police post where as an outsider visiting the area, I am required to fill details about my trip in a register. The lone policeman asks me to report again at his desk on my way out of the valley. After Tingrit, we pass Urgos, the largest village in the valley. At Chaling his native village, Sheru gets down with Pravir, the trekker from Delhi and tells me to go ahead till Khanjar and stay put at the village school. He will catch up with me in a couple of hours.

Fields of Khanjar village

An old man sitting next to me in the bus is interestingly from Khanjar. Back in the Udaipur bus stand, he had offered to get his son to accompany me on my trek if I needed a guide. He takes me to his house carrying my bag of provisions for me and offers tea and snacks. Though I spend considerable time in his house, I forget to ask him his name - I will call him Pradhanji for this narrative. There are few houses in Khanjar and Pradhanji's is by far the biggest. One of his sons is a Panchayat official and works in Udaipur. Pradhanji is expanding his house and has come back with some plumbing materials from Udaipur.

Standing on the porch of Pradhanji's house, I watch three young men engaged in some heavy earth and stone work making a new path to the entrance. They tell me they are gaddis (shepherds) from Dharamshala and have brought their flocks with them to the pastures of Miyar Valley. Having time on their hands they have taken up this daily wage work to earn some money. Pradhanji is a little suspicious of them. He warns me not to leave my bag around attended as they are not locals and nothing is known about them.

Pradhanji is an expert carpenter and I watch him for some time at work on his well equipped work bench. There is still more time to kill and I am hungry having missed lunch. I potter about outside Pradhanji's house followed by his curious little granddaughter who has learnt to walk - even up rough slopes of the hill - but not to talk yet. If Sheru does not turn up, my plan B is to ask Pradhanji for food and a place to sleep. 

Khanjar (3450 m) to Camp 1 - Sheru's cottage (3650 m)

Morning view just beyond camp 1

At dusk, Sheru turns up with Pravir and two other men - a gaddi and a man with a dog on a chain. The dog - a black mountain breed somewhat like a labrador retriever - has its tail tucked between its legs and is very scared of me. The man with the dog is Ranjit, Sheru's brother and my guide for the next few days.

Sheru is in a great hurry for we have some distance to cover to get to the planned night halt. I leave without being able  thank Pradhanji and bid a proper goodbye.

We climb above Khanjar past a beautiful site where a group of foreigners have camped. Sheru has some land and a cottage a little beyond and this is our destination. I quickly pitch my tent outside his cottage in failing light. The others plan to sleep in the shelter. Jakie is tied outside.

Sheru lights a wood fire and starts cooking. I ask about Jakie. It is a year old and has been with Sheru's family. The Gaddi wanted a dog and Sheru offered Jakie to him. Sheru says that it will be well looked after by the Gaddis and grow up healthy and strong, running free with the herds. I ask Sheru if Jalie will be returned when the gaddis leave Miyar. He says yes, but something in his tone makes me suspect that Jackie is being given away for good. After our dinner is over, Sheru makes rotis for Jakie who is hungry and hovering near the door. Before we sleep, he unchains him.  

Aug 7th:

Camp 1 to Zardong (~ 3900 m)

The next morning, Jakie is not to be found. The gaddi goes searching for him without any luck. Sheru seems unconcerned. He keeps saying that Jakie will not go anywhere. The gaddi however is worried. I hear him say that we have committed a sin - the poor dog still has the steel chain tied to him and will get stuck somewhere and die.

We heat up the food from last night and breakfast on it and pack the leftovers for lunch. Sheru stocks provisions in his cottage for the gaddis. Ranjit weighs a bag of salt for the gaddi using an ancient beam balance scale. We hit the trail by 8.40 am.

The path climbs up a hill on the left bank of the river, the high point being marked by a Chorten. Descending from the hill, we cross a little stream with gushing water forded by two logs balancing on boulders on either side. Yellow (or Citrine) Wagtails pose for my camera. Crossing a couple of young gaddis heading the opposite way, I stop for a brief chat. They are curious as to what I am doing alone here (we have scattered on the vast plain).

These gaddis, like the ones we met earlier call Dharamshala their home. They spend eleven months of the year on the road with their flocks taking them to different pastures. One month is all they get to be with their family back home. Their cyclical annual migration takes them many hundred km from Dharamshala to the pastures in Miyar and Pangi valleys and back through Pathankot. In the process, they are the first to cross the high passes in the Pir Panjal and on the range separating Miyar and Pangi valleys.

The valley opens up into a broad field of green with pink hues where strips of pink himalayan fleece have proliferated. Where old glaciers empty into the valley, the field is strewn with small stones. Streams meander through finding their way to the Miyar. A lone cow, separated from its herd stares at us.

Strips of Pink Himalayan Fleece and violet Himalayan Monkshood

We enter Luhling, a  valley of flowers. Small flowers in many bright colors with exotic names - yellow dandelion, dark pink himalayan fleece flower, blue geranium and violet monkshood - dot the grass. There is also a wild form of ajwain that grows abundantly. We enter a strech which is very rocky and hard on the feet as one keeps stubbing toes on small rocks. A pile of stones with Ram horns and colorful pieces of cloth tied to it marks the way. We cross a large flock of sheep with a single shepherd managing the flock and pass through a beautiful pasture - not even a single rock is visible anywhere.

Men with bags of kadu

Between two hills, a perfect triangular hill is visible in the background named Gompa, believed to be the sacred meditation spot of a Lama. We cross another stream with wooden planks for a bridge and then a shelter made of flat stone slabs with a large natural rock for a back wall - a gaddi got.

A little further, we come to a little lake and stop for lunch. A group of men carrying huge gunnysacks are heading towards Khanjar and stop for a rest. Their bags contain a jadi booti called Kadu. Dabur buys the root for use in its medicines. The root fetches Rs 600/kg. The men have been camping out a month in the valley to collect a bag each of the root - weighing 20kg. They would earn Rs 12000 for their efforts. I taste a sample and it is indeed bitter as the name signifies. It is apparently good for stomach ailments and used by the villagers as a home remedy. The lake was much bigger a few years ago, I learn. People opine that it has shrunk because the snowfall over the valley has been decreasing over the years.

Zardong in the distance

The path now moves close to the bank of the river. Looking upstream, in the distance, the valley seems to be blocked as it were by a gigantic rock fall. We are approaching Zardong, our camping site for the day. Zardong signifies a rock fall in Tibetan. We reach at half past four, 8 hrs after we started walking.It has been a very long and tiring day. According to our guide, we have walked about 15 km, skipping several campsites along the way.

Fighting for salt

We throw our bags and stretch out in a sheltered area adjacent to the rock fall. In no time, assorted cattle gather near us. A dzho calf starts liking the haversacks on the ground - for the salt in the sweat on the bags, Sheru explains. The cattle are left here to graze by themselves. Periodically, their owners bring salt for them. After chewing grass for days on end, the cattle hunger for salt says Sheru. The presence of humans means that they will get their salt feed - so the cattle leave their grazing grounds on the mountain sides and gather here on seeing humans.

It is hard to keep the cattle away. Sheru really feels for the cattle and dips into our meager stock and spreads the salt on rocks around the camp for the cattle. After that, there is a regular stampede for the salt - cows, buffaloes, dzho and even horses fighting with each other to get to the salt. The rocks are licked over many times - I cannot believe there is a single grain of salt left and still they keep taking turns to lick them clean,

We collect cow dung cakes - available in plenty here - and Sheru makes a stack expertly for the evenings cooking. The stack obviates the need for a chula.

Sheru's story:

On the way and at camps, I learn a bit about Sheru. He worked in a dhaba in Parvati Valley for many years and graduated to be a cook. He married a Russian girl who was at that time living in India. She had strong Tibetan features and could easily pass off as a local, he tells me. He has a son and a daughter. The girl lives with him in Challing village, the boy is in Russia with his mother. They have been away for many years and will visit India only when the boy has completed his schooling. They have invited him to come over to Russia, but he says he will not go.

Zardong in failing light

Somewhere along the line, Sheru joined trekking groups as a porter and then became a guide in his own right. He likes to go with small groups - even individuals - where everyone shares the lifting, cooking etc. In conversation it emerges that he was heavily into drugs, but he claims he is now out of it. Smoking is his bane. It is, he feels, decreasing his stamina. He wants to give it up.

Aug 8th:

Zardong to Phalphu (3950 m)

Zardong at sunrise

Today we are ready and on the move by 8 am. The path is mostly level and along the river. The first major obstacle is a stream which has to be crossed. The bridge, located a little higher up, has collapsed. The water flows fast.

Morning tea on a cow dung fire

A Maharashtrian family - a couple and presumably their daughter, all portly in build - have just crossed over and are resting on the banks. We crossed mules carrying their luggage and camping equipment a little while back. We remove our shoes and wade across, sinking up to our knees in the water. My feet are frozen and I want to rest. Ranjit advises me to keep walking barefoot as that will restore blood circulation and warm them.

Soon we are at the next stream. Again there is no bridge. This time, I try to cross by hopping over rocks. A skid and one leg is in water, the shoe completely wet. I also sprain my back it seems. There are yet more streams to cross. At the next one, I do the sensible thing - just take off my shoes and follow Ranjit's lead.

Snout of Miyar glacier

We walk past beautiful mountains and peaks before reaching our campsite. Sheru identifies this place as Phalphu, but it is also known as 'base-camp' by climbers. Ranjit has collected wild mushrooms on the way. He starts cleaning and dicing them for our dinner. It is early in the afternoon and Sheru takes us - me and Pravir - for a walk to the snout of the glacier.

Sheru points to a side valley - Chudong valley - towards the east of the main valley. That is the valley foreign climbers frequent, he says. It has numerous climbing peaks with interesting names - Gou Gou peak, Trident ridge, Castle Peak, Rachu Tangmu, etc. We walk over glacial moraine, choosing our steps carefully. At several points, Sheru sets up pointers for our return - making little rock piles or placing pointed rocks at elevated points.

We suddenly come upon a pool of crystal clear blue water. This is one of seven sacred pools - Kesar yong chep in Tibetan - that dot the area. Making our way through the moraine, we come to a second and then a third pool. We walk through a bed of sand with beautiful patterns made by wind and water and then reach the river at a point near the snout of the glacier. The going is heavy for there is no path and we have to walk on loose rock and rubble that can collapse beneath our feet.

Phalphu at sunset

The snout of the glacier is completely covered with moraine. We can make out the black ice of the glacier only in patches where the the moraine cannot find hold on the near vertical ice. The river gushes out from under the moraine as if from an underground spring.We carefully make our way on the moraine over the snout and along the glacier to a spot where the innards of the glacier are visible.

Ranjit and Sheru (right) making pooris

Dinner that evening is puri and a wild mushroom potato curry. We do not have a tava or belan, so the only way to make use of the atta we are carrying is by kneading into dough and then hand patting it into thick flat and roughly circular pieces which we deep fry in oil. The food tastes delicious and we eat heartily. That night, I have a very disturbed sleep and psychedelic dreams. I learn the next day that wild mushroom that we ate does have some hallucinogenic properties.

Aug 9th:

Phalphu to Gompa campsite (3850 m)

It is a cloudy morning. Some time is spent dividing up the rations. By 8.30, we are ready to go. I bid goodbye to Sheru and Pravir who are starting on a dangerous journey heading for Zanskar via the Kangla pass.

Ominous clouds at day break - Phalphu

The main thrills today are the crossing of the streams without bridges. I just take off my shoes, roll up my pants for the crossing. We hold hands and wade sideways through the water which now seems more forceful than yesterday. While crossing the last stream without a bridge, I slip on a rock just a step away from the bank and injure a toe. What seems a minor injury initially bedevils me for the rest of the trek.

Ranjit chasing the stranded Yak

Further on the way we see a yak sitting on a sandbar near the left bank of the Miyar. Ranjit remarks that the Yak has got separated from its herd - herds of Yaks can be seen on the far banks of the Miyar - and runs to the sand bank and tries to shoo the Yak across the river. The Yak runs into one of the streams of the Miyar and then gets carried down by the force of the flow before swimming to the sand bank just across. More persuation by Ranjit and the Yak set across the next stream again to be nearly carried away by the flow, but finally managing to make it to the next bak. The Yak has still not crossed the Miyar in its entirety, but Ranjit can do no more. When he gets back to the trail, he tells me that the Yak is from his village and not well - that is why it is finding it difficult to cross the river and got left behind by the herd. He plans to inform its owner so that he can come and attend to it.

It is 3.30 when we reach the Gompa camping site. It has been another hard day of walking. I am parched - we did not refill our water bottles at Zardong, the last spot with potable water. We have also not had anything after a breakfast of oats that morning. Ranjit wanders off in search of Gaddis from whom he plans to get food. My cooking skills are now put to test. Along with cooking, I also have to keep an eye on the cows that have gathered and are threatening to eat anything they can get to. They have already eaten the soap bar I left near the place where I cleaned the cooking vessels.

Cooking khichidi at Gompa campsite

I decide to make a khichidi with moong dal and rice and throw in potatoes into it. I fry the masala with potatoes cut small in an aluminum pot with lid and then throw in the rice and dal into the water. I am in for a big lesson. The water evaporates but the rice and dal just do not cook. I add more water and repeat the process without luck. The lesson I learn is that at this altitude, rice and dal cannot be cooked without using a pressure cooker. Sheru was carrying one - so we did not have a problem till this morning.

Ranjit returns with mushrooms he picked up. He has not been able to find a Gaddi Got. We eat the half cooked khichidi and are still hungry at the end of it. Ranjit now says he will try his hand at cooking. He spends the next hour making a alu-soya nugget sabji and rice - with results akin to mine. Even the potato remains uncooked!

Ranjit, Pravir and Sheru at Phalphu

Ranjit's story:

Ranjit is the youngest in the family while Sheru is the eldest. He is well built and strong but is very hard of hearing. The other brothers are spread in Kulu and Manali one working as a cobbler, another in a dhaba, a third a carpenter. Ranjit is also a carpenter by trade and worked in Kullu and lived there with his wife and family. He says that he was enticed to going to Goa by a friend to work on a large project. There he claims he was drugged and thrown on the street and not paid for the substantial work he had done. He was rescued by a good samaritan who nursed him back to health - he had completely lost his memory and bearings after the drugging incident - and helped him to return. Meanwhile his young wife died in a mysterious accident. That really upset him and he says he went crazy.

It seems that with the passage of time, some healing has taken place. He now lives in his parents house and says he is much better. His in-laws want him to come back to Kulu and be with his children but for some reason, he has resisted.

Ranjit's version of events is more or less corroborated by others. Sheru says that he had gone mad at one point after his wife died, but says he is much better now. But he is prone to some depression and stays aloof from others most of the time. Later I learn from Norbu ( of Shukto) that Ranjit in his bad period was prone to fits of rage. He even threatened to kill his own child by throwing it over the the balcony. Ranjit was taken by his family and cared for in Chaling. They have slowly nursed him back to better health.

Aug 10th:

Gompa Camp to Shukto

It starts raining at 4 am. We wake up and drag all our equipment in and go back to sleep. There is a lull in the rain around 8.30. We decide to move without breakfast. Soon the rain is back and over time penetrates my rain jacket. There is no use of a halt in between as we cannot light a fire to cook anything and there is no shelter on the route.

We reach the the stream which has a bridge of two loose beams resting on rocks on either side. The beams have been unsettled by the rain and four gaddis - two on each side are making adjustments to the rocks to stabilize the beams. Ranjit is already across. Seeing me, they motion me to walk across as they hold on to the ends of the beams. The two beams are at different levels, each wide enough to hold just one foot. I hand over my haversack Ranjit to carry across, not wanting the risk of the bag shifting weight while I am crossing.

The stream flows fast and furious after hours of rain. I take a look at it and start the plank walk. The gaddis advise me to take gentle steps. After each step the plank I step on wobbles and I wait to get my balance and for the beam to steady. The difference in levels between the planks makes balancing a little more difficult. Step after excruciating step and then I am across, with the help of hands outstretched to pull me over.

I stop and thank the gaddis. They are the ones who maintain the 'infrastructure' in these parts where no government officials venture. One of them is the same old shepherd who spent the first night with us at Sheru's house above Khanjar. I ask him if he found the dog Jackie. His face is crestfallen. He says no, the dog has probably gone back to Sheru's village, Chaling.

We reach Khanjar at 12.30 and stop at the school to get some shelter from the rain. The bus to Udaipur is not expected here till 2.30. Ranjit suggests that we walk to Sukhto, the next village.

Ranjit's cousin, her mother and Norbus mother

After a short walk we reach Sukhto and enter a house with the strong odour of sheep and cattle. The house belongs to Ranjit's cousin sister, a personable lady. We sit in the living room around the stove while she prepares tea and dishes out lunch for us. The family - that includes an extremely striking teenaged daughter and two young sons - have not eaten yet. Soon we are joined by Ranjit's aunt, an old lady with thick glasses. Aunt belongs to Pangi valley and has several children settled there and two here in Shukto. She says she splits her time between her different children.

We spend the next couple of hours in the cosy living space with the family.  We are joined by another old neighbour who comes in with a basket of freshly dug out potatoes. The two old ladies are engaged in a raucous conversation with much hand and head shaking while the cousin and her daughter listen in. The two boys have gone out to play. I ask the the aunt what the conversation ( in Bhoti) is all about. She says it is about the weather and how things have changed in the valley. Cousin sister is knitting a complex pattern in wool all the time. I admire her handiwork and she opens a trunk and pulls out beautifully knitted socks in different color combinations and made of pure wool as well as polyester wool. The wool is from their own sheep. The pair of socks she is currently knitting is for her third son who is a Lama at a monastery in Ladakh. The ones in the trunk are for sale. I buy a couple to take home.

It looks like the bus is not going to turn up.The rain today has caused a nallah near Chamrat to damage the road and that will be the reason. I ask Ranjit's sister if she can put me up for the night. She looks at me apologetically and says that they have only this living room and the entire family sleeps here. Shukto has one guest house and after getting out of my wet clothes, I make my way there with Ranjit.

View from Norbu's house, Shukto village

Norbu who runs the guest house is very welcoming. We sit in their typical Ladakhi style kitchen / living room and have tea. Norbu's father and a guest from another village are also there. Norbu's mother is the same old lady I met in Ranjit's cousin's house. She sits with a large pile of potatoes, peeling. The black potatoes are local produce. When I remark on the color, I am offered a plate along with a chatni. The potatoes taste delicious - I can't stop eating them. Rooms are available at Norbu's for Rs 500/600 for Indians and for Rs 1000 for foreigners. I decide to stay the night and try my luck with the morning bus. I bid goodbye to Ranjit with a hug. He has saved me from injury or worse several times in the last few days.

A Citrine Wagtail - ubiquitous in the valley

Norbu shows me around the house. The bathroom has a geyser, washing machine and dryer - but the electricity supply to the village has been cut off. The story behind it is that the government, citing a High Court order, has given notices to people on "encroachment" of government land in the tribal areas and then cut off electricity to the errant households, in this case the entire village, as a punishment. Norbu explains that their family settled here 70 years ago. Most people have proper papers for their fields and for their old homes. Recently they have started building new brick and mortar houses and these lie in what is nominally government land and this is the encroachment that the government is objecting to.

Norbu takes me to his terrace where I spread out the wet clothes to dry. Over some hot food and tea, I find out more about what he does. Norbu is a carpenter by training and has worked for many years in Manali. He proudly tells me that he has built this house himself with his father and two hired helps. I have noticed the beautiful wood panelling in the living room, evidence of his craftsmanship. Now he earns his livelihood from the guest house and a small car which he runs as a taxi service to Udaipur. The family owns cattle, mules and some farm land just as almost all the families in the valley do.

Pink himalayan fleece, yellow dandelion and
himalayan geranium

He has built up a relationship with some foreign climbers who use his guest house on their way in and out of the valley. One of his friends has left a collection of articles on climbs in the Miyar valley with him which I browse through. Then he tells me about a one of his dangerous activities. Foreign climbers often leave their expensive climbing gear - ropes, carabiners, pitons etc on the rock sides they have climbed. He has made several climbs alone to retrieve ropes and carabiners that have been left behind and descended without ropes himself. (Sheru had mentioned some days earlier that some villagers climb and retrieve the ropes etc without mentioning names) For a 60 m rope he has been offered as much as Rs 10000 locally, he tells me. He says he should not be risking his life but he is "lalachi". He also tells me that he has now figured a safer way to come down with the ropes.

Aug 11th:

Shukto to Sissu

I get up early and learn that the bus did not arrive last night from Udaipur so there is going to be be no bus to Udaipur this morning. I have the option of waiting till 2.30 for the bus or hiring Norbus car. He agrees to drop me for Rs 750. We start from Sukhto at 8.30. Norbu has to stop and shake hands and talk to numerous people on the way. We also have 3 to 4 others seated on the backseat of the small car. The car crosses the site of the breach without much difficulty and we reach Udaipur by 9.45 am.

Shukto - morning view

I have left a couple of books and some clothes with a shopkeeper near the bus stand. The old man who belongs to Shakoli, the first village in the valley, greets me with his characteristic welcome "Aao Baitho" (come and sit). He asks me if I also drank a lot and enjoyed with Sheru ... Sheru obviously has a reputation in these parts.

I catch the 11am bus for Keylong, getting off at Tandi and then catch the Keylong - Shimla bus. Before I get down at Sissu, the conductor comes and quietly hands me my camera. I had dropped it earlier while changing seats and was not aware of my loss.

An old couple in Sissu

There is no chemist in Sissu. A shop keeper points me to a government hospital just above the main road. I limp my way up the steps. My toe has now swollen up and I find it painful to walk. The hospital has several floors and many rooms in each floor, but seems completely deserted. I check several rooms and finally come upon a young woman in one, obviously getting ready to leave for the day. She tells me that the doctor has left for the day and after looking at my toe says that she can give me some medicines including an antibiotic. When she hears that I am allergic to penicillin, she decides to phone and call in the pharmacist and the doctor who fortunately are not far away. The old doctor has been selected for PG (post graduate) studies, she volunteers and the doctor who will see me, a fresh graduate from Punjab, has just joined work today. The doctor arrives and prescribes several medicines including an antibiotic and a tetanus shot though I have no sign of any external injury. I leave most impressed with the generous dispensing of medicines and the politeness and courtesy shown by these public servants, notwithstanding the doubts I have about their professional abilities.

The next morning, I am back in Keylong. It has now started feeling like home.

Himalayan Trek 13, Aug 2015

The Gompa circuit - The Kora of Drilbu Ri

The Kora of Drilbu Ri

Aug 13:

Last evening, at an internet cafe, I learn about what is possibly the best trek around Keylong - the kora ( parikrama) of Drilbu Ri (Bell Mountain). Drilbu Ri is holy for both Buddhists and Hindus and the kora is undertaken by people of both religions.

It is 7.30 by the time I have swallowed a parotha and packed a lunch of  boiled eggs, juice and fruit. According to the proprietor at my favorite dhaba, I am late. People usually leave for the kora by 5 am. She comfortingly adds that I walk fast - so I should be able to complete it by evening.

I start at a smart pace retracing the path I had taken a few days back down to the bridge over the Bhaga (2900 m). Then comes the steep ascent to Khardang. A boy in school uniform trots down the path. He is from Barbog village, located somewhat higher than the gompa. He tells me he  has done the kora twice. A group has left on the Kora from his village even today. More school children run by, this time belonging to Khardang village.

Drilbu RI from near Khardang village

I walk past the habitat of several nuns above the gompa and seek directions from a monk sitting on a rooftop. He tells me that a group has gone up a while back and points to the foot path that takes off from the road near a spring just beyond the gompa.  I fill water from the spring and try desperately to capture on my lens the sparrow sized birds - Fire Fronted Serin, it turns out - that flit about near the water body, finally managing a couple of half decent images. It is 9.30 by the time I hit the path.

The ramparts of the fortress like Drilbu Ri loom above. A thread of white beads visible on a sheer face of the mountain is resolved as a line of sheep making its way up when I zoom in on it with my camera. But that is not the path for ordinary humans - only gaddis can follow their sheep up such steep rock. Wild flowers cover the grassy flanks of the mountain in pink hues. Far below, the Bhaga is visible meandering from Jispa. Clouds and hills produce strange patterns of light and shadow.

I periodically measure my altitude using the GPS on my mobile. I know that the pass is at 4400 m and my altitude will tell me how much I still have to climb. At 10.30, I reach a clearing at 3700 m. At 11, I am standing on a ledge over a sheer drop at 3800 m.

First sight of prayer flags on the pass

The path is overall well marked, with prayer flags at intervals, signs painted on rocks and stone piles - cairns - marking the way. However, at one point, the signs are confusing and I make a choice. It turns out to be a wrong choice as I realize after some time. I have taken a goat path which just traverses the mountain and at some point fizzles out. I retrace and eventually find the right path which heads up the mountain

By 12, I am at 4030 m. The only person I have seen after leaving Khardang is a an old man mumbling prayers and counting beads going down. He is engrossed in his prayers and does not look at me. I am just beginning to get a bit anxious. It is nearly 5 hrs since I started the trek. The trek down - if I have to return the way I came - is going to be tougher as the path is steep and slippery in many places with loose gravel and dust. At 12.30, at 4170 m , I spot the prayer flags marking the pass directly above me. Self doubts vanish and I feel a new burst of energy. I gain a new appreciation of the importance of prayer flags and cairns marking the passes for travellers.

Rangcha Gali (4380 m)

There is still a stiff  climb ahead before I reach the chortens and prayer flags at Rangcha Gali. My altimeter shows 4380 m and it is a quarter past one. I have gained nearly 1.5 km height from the time I walked on the bridge over the Bhaga!

Shikar Beh (right) and Muker Beh

I sit down and feast my eyes over the panorama across the pass - the majestic Pir Panjal range in the clouds and the Chandra snaking its way west far below, a village with colorful rooftops on the flat lands above its banks.  The magnificent 6000+ m peaks, Shikar Beh and Mukar Beh stand directly ahead, abruptly falling to the banks of the Chandra at 3000 m. To their west, a giant glacier descends from the clouds.

The ridge extends up from the Gali to the west towards the sky in waves. Higher up on the ridge, a large group of men, young and old, all in red robes are just winding up after their lunch break and preparing to leave. Prayer flags and chortens adorn a portion of the ridge. A small tin shed painted yellow houses a temple besides a chorten.

Can you spot Keylong?

I pause to take in the view on the northern side of the pass, the side from which I came up. One can see all the way up  from Keylong spread at the foot of the valley to the imposing hills guarding it to the north and through a gap in the hills, a forbidding land of snow and glaciers. Towards the east, the Bhaga appears as a silver ribbon until it is hidden by a bend in the valley.

A Gaddi in typical dress is sitting on a rock sharing an apple carefully skinned and diced with another man and keeping an eye on his flock somewhere below. He remarks - "you have reached" and offers me a slice. He has been witness to what must seem to him an excruciatingly slow ascent.

The group in red start their descent towards the Chandra valley. It is somewhat late in the day for the mountains and I do not want to struggle with finding the path downward. I start my descent keeping the group in sight. The path down is far easier to negotiate than the path up.

From one of group, I learn that they are students of the Tibetan School of Medicine in Sarnath, Bihar. They come from many places - Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan and Ladakh - and are here on an excursion and are doing the Kora today guided by a local monk who knows the way. Some of them are feeling the effects of altitude and that accounts for their slow pace - they started from Keylong at 5 am.

I follow a well marked trail - ever clearer as it is dotted with the red - till I reach the first fields of potato at 3500 m. In another half hour, I reach the highway at a point one km above the village of Gondla. The descent has taken just 2 hours.

Fields of cabbage and potato at 3500 m

Then follows a long wait for a lift at a puncture repair shop on the dusty Manali - Leh highway. I start talking to an army javan from Rajasthan who is getting his truck tires fixed. His unit has been transferred from somewhere in Haryana to the Chushul border with China. After a lot of searching questions about why and how I manage to trek alone in these parts, he agrees to give me a lift in his truck. Over a short ride he warms up to me and we part with a strong handshake. A bus ride takes me along the Chandra downstream to Tandi (where Chandra and Bhaga meet to become the Chandrabhaga) and then follows the Bhaga upstream to Keylong. Thus I complete my Kora.

Back in Keylong, I stop at my favorite Pau Gomba Sanju dhaba. The proprietor is a Pasang Dolma who is a Buddhist with Tibetan features similar to most locals of Keylong but belongs to Nepal. She runs the dhaba with her two sisters Jyoti and Sangmu and a Nepali man, Subhash. All of them belong to the village of Listi near the Chinese border which is famous for the Pau Gompa - hence the name of their dhaba. Pasang Dolma is not surprised that I am back - "He walks fast", she tells the others.

Fields above Gondla

Over several days, I have observed the dhaba and its workers/proprietors. The dhaba remains open from 6.30 in the morning to 10.30 at night. The food is cooked right in front of the tables where it is served. Pasang and Subhash do the main cooking while the two younger sisters help out. The food is tasty and fresh, the price reasonable, and the dhaba does a roaring business. The sisters take turns to go home and freshen up. The only time I see them relaxing is in the hours between lunch and dinner when business is slack. They sit around a table and munch some snacks.  Despite the grueling hours, Pasang Dolma seems always cheerful and keeps up a friendly banter with the numerous locals who visit the dhaba. It is hard to imagine that she is not a local.

Subhash, Pasang Dolma and Jyoti Dolma

One day in casual conversation I gather that Pasang is familiar with Delhi. On further probing I learn that Pasang spends the period from November to Feb in Delhi and runs a shop selling woolens from Nepal at a market near Lal Quila. She rents a place in the Tibetan colony in Majnu ka Tilla for this period. Post Delhi winter, she travels to her home in Nepal near the Chinese border. There are so may people from that area in Delhi that a direct bus runs from Majnu ka Tila to the area of her village in Nepal. Her son and in-laws live at their village in Nepal. She says she has land, house, vehicle - 'sab kuch hai ghar me'. In June she is back to Keylong renting the same place to run the dhaba and a dormitory. This is her annual routine. I ask the family if they ever take a holiday. The answer is - ours is not a government job that we can take a holiday. We have to work for our livelihood.

As I leave Keylong, my thoughts are centered on Pasang Dolma. Undoubtedly, here is a woman of substance. A Tibetan by religion and culture and a Nepali by citizenship, her livelihood is entirely in India. She, and countless others like her, seem to straddle these different identities with ease.

More treks around Keylong are described in my previous post The Gompa circuit: Small treks around Keylong

Himalayan Trek 14, Aug 2015

The Gompa Circuit - Small treks around Keylong

The road to Keylong

August 3rd:

Climbing Rohtang

The monsoon is in full swing in Himachal. The overnight bus from Delhi  arrives late in Kullu after negotiating market day chaos on the main road in the valley, logjams created by trucks carrying tomatoes and other vegetables.

My destination is Miyar Valley, accessible from the small town of Udaipur. There is no bus for Udaipur from Kullu till 5 am next morning. It is overcast in Kullu and I quickly drop the idea of staying in the valley for a couple of days. The next best option is to catch the 12 pm bus to Keylong and make my way to Udaipur the next day.

I rent a room near the bus stand for Rs 350 to freshen up. A dog behind the toilet seat causes momentary excitement. It cannot be persuaded to move even by its owners; so in the end, I move to another room.The Keylong bus does not turn up at the scheduled time and I am advised to go to Manali. I reach Manali at 2 pm in a local bus. After spending a couple  hours in a drizzle in the open, I manage to board the Keylong bus - the same bus that I had been waiting for in Kullu - ahead of most others and get a much needed seat for the long journey ahead.

The Chandra near Rohtang

We make our way slowly towards the Rohtang pass. The mountain slopes look beautiful, a verdant green interrupted by innumerable water falls. I experience a change of mood when we pass an accident site - a car has rammed head on into a truck and a lifeless body is lifted from it into a waiting taxi. My bus driver however shows no signs of being affected. With a big grin on his face he remarks that the car driver must have been stone drunk to do this.

As we move up, the visibility deteriorates and we are literally in the clouds. The drizzle that has been a constant companion abruptly stops on the other side and visibility improves though the sky remains overcast. There is now no road worth the name left between landslides and the cable laying work that is in progress. The workmen, a ragged bunch, inadequately clothed and tooled, battle it out under inhospitable conditions. The road all the way to Kokhsar and then on to Tandi and Keylong is in a terrible state, much worse than it was two years ago when I last traveled on it.

After Kokhsar, we pass the Lahoul end of the under construction Rohtang tunnel. A co-passenger who works at the project site tells me that 2700 m of the 3500 m long tunnel is complete. A private company with foreign collaboration is executing the project. The BRO, according to him, has given a deadline to make in operational by 2024-25!

My favorite eating place in Keylong

We reach Keylong after 9 pm. I walk to the nearest hotel - the 'New Geytse' and take a room for Rs 700 a night. Over dinner, I have a relaxed conversation with the hotel manager, a local resident.

I gather from him that the (tourist) 'season' in Keylong is from July to November, the region being snowbound the rest of the year. The guests are mainly travelers on the Manali - Leh road. Lahaul does not get much rain ..... much lower than Kullu - Mandi region, but more than Ladakh. (The Pir Panjals, I presume, hold back most of the monsoon clouds.) Only one crop is possible and consists of vegetables such as cauliflower, potatoes and peas and a staple, barley. During winter months, the only way out from Lahoul is by helicopter - services are available at a subsidized price of Rs 1500 for emergency visits to Kulu.

Khardang Gompa

Khardang village seen from Keylong

August 4th:

After spending nearly 24 hrs in buses between Delhi and Keylong, I  badly need to exercise my legs - so I decide to stay and walk around Keylong for a day before proceeding to Udaipur. There are several monasteries around Keylong, all situated at commanding heights and offering great views of the valley.

The proprietor of  the Pau Gomba Sanju Dhaba near the bus stand where I have a breakfast of alu paratha and dahi briefs me on the merits of the walks to the different Gompas. Khardang looks to be so close, but is a stiff climb as one has to descend to the river before climbing up. Tayul is located in a very beautiful place. However, to get to Tayul, one needs to take a bus ride on one of the buses going towards Darcha and then walk. Sashur can also be reached by a road or a footpath but it is located at a greater height than Khardang.

The narrow gorge of the Bhaga

I decide on Khardang. The monastery is above a village of the same name located on an imposing bell shaped mountain - the Drilbu Ri (bell mountain) - across the Bhaga river from Keylong. I can clearly see it from my hotel window and it does appear quite close.

I make my way along the 'mall' road to the lower end of the market and then take a path that slopes towards the district hospital and the lower part of the town. I am soon walking through fields of cauliflower and potato with young apple trees planted at intervals.

The path slopes down to the narrow gorge of the Bhaga and I catch a glimpse of Drilbu Ri towering above. A narrow pedestrian bridge spans the gorge. On the other side the path climbs up steeply. Looking back, I can see the last row of houses of Keylong perched on the hill dangerously close to where it just falls vertically into the river. I pass more fields of potato with white flowers, with Drilbu Ri in the background. A foreign couple are on the same path.

Drilbu Ri (Bell mountain)

The path cuts through Khardang village and heads into the fields above it. After a climb with switchbacks, we reach the gompa. A magnificent view of Keylong and its fields awaits us.

Resting for a while at the gompa, I become acquainted with the couple - Christian and Eleanora - who are from Italy. I learn that Christian trained in Physics at Trieste and then switched to the study of the history of Tibetan Buddhism in the Western Himalayas. He has visited Ladakh many times and is also a keen Alpiner. Eleanora is a psychologist and works with differently-abled children. A nun opens the door to the Gompa and after a quick tour, I buy a prayer flag.

Keylong from the path to Khardung

We walk down together and have lunch at the dhaba near the bus stand. Over lunch, the Italians invite me to accompany them to another Gompa - the Guru Ghantal on a hill above Tandi - and I accept.

Trip to Guru Ghantal

We catch a 3.30 bus out of Keylong going towards Tandi. The path to Guru Ghantal starts from a small gompa just above the Tandi bus stop. The monk in charge of Guru Ghantal stays down here and does not want to accompany us. Instead he hands over the keys to the gompa and points out the path going up.

Keylong from Khardang Gompa

View of Tandi from Guru Ghantal hill

We waste precious time searching for the narrow foot path that leads up. Half way up, dark clouds gather and there is also a little rain. A shepherd returning with his flock advises us against going up as there is danger of rain and of falling stones dislodged by the sheep. Christian is very keen to see the gompa and decides to carry on alone while I stay back as I do not have my trekking pole or headlamp with me and descending in failing light will be difficult. Eleanora also stays with me. We enjoy the grand views of the valley in the setting sun.

After a long wait, we spot Christian running down the hill, triumphant. He was able to locate the gompa, get inside and photograph the ancient Tankhas that he had heard were there. From his ascent and descent, it is clear that he is a natural mountaineer. There is a long wait in Tandi for a bus and eventually we are back at by now our favorite dhaba for dinner after which we bid goodbye. The next morning, I catch the bus to Udaipur on the way to Miyar valley.

Bhaga downstream of Keylong

Sashur Gompa (3400 m)

Aug 12:

Several days later, after completing my planned trek in Miyar valley, I am back again in Keylong after halting the night at Sissu. I have a couple of days left of my holiday and Keylong seems a better place to spend it than rainy Manali.

At my favorite dhaba, Pasang Dolma the proprietor tells me that my Italian friends kept visiting the dhaba for several days after my last visit. It is still early in the day and there is time enough for a trek to Sashur Gompa up on the hillside above Keylong. A paved path leads up from the old bus stand and joins with a motor road at some point. It is a nice walk with lovely views of the Bhaga valley downstream of Keylong. The high point of my walk is a beautiful multi-colored bird I spot and later identify as the European Goldfinch.

European Goldfinch on a Thistle

Nearing the Gompa, I come across a family plucking pea pods. Occasional potato plants dot the field of peas - apparently leftover from last years crop. The farmers rotate between peas and potatoes on alternate years. Inorganic fertilizer usage is necessary, the farmer tell me, for a good crop. Pesticides are also used, but he avers, only in small quantities here,  as they have to guard against only one or two pests. The seeds used come from lower hills like Kulu. Apparently the converse is also true - in the lower hills, they use seeds from the higher altitudes for better results.

It is relatively easier to find short cuts during the walk down and I am soon passing through a village located just above the main street of Keylong. I ask a villager why the trees on either side of the path have been truncated. The tree is a wild species of willow, he tells me, and the bark from the branches is used as fodder in winter when all the leaves have fallen. I am reminded of the harsh winter - from November to May - that must be endured by people here.

On the way down I spot two varieties of Laughing Thrush. The birds on the trail and the great views make for a day well spent.

The Kora of Drilbu Ri

Aug 13:

This, the best trek around Keylong is described in my next post : The Kora of Drilbu Ri