Walking from the Parbati Valley to Pin Valley

Day 1: 16th Sept, Pulga (2276 m) to Khirganga (2780 m) 7.8 km, 5h

We are on a trail that takes us up the Parbati Valley. The Parbati River originates in a glacier in the Pir Panjal Range and merges with the Beas near Kullu. Our trek started at Kulga (adjacent to Pulga) in the Parbati Valley and will end at Mudh Village on the Pin river in Spiti Valley. Today's is an easy trail taken by many people who want to make a day trip to Khirganga. 

Parbati and Spiti Valleys

We will follow the river upstream to the Parbati glacier and cross the range at the Pin Parbati pass. On the other side, we will cross another glacier that feeds the Pin River and then follow the river till the first habitation in Spiti, the village of Mudh.

Pin Parbati pass trail and campsites

Day 2: 17 Sept, Khirganga (2789 m) to Tuna Bhuj (3333 m), 8.9 km, 6h

I noticed her for the first time today, discretely keeping up with us but avoiding eye contact.

We spent last night in Kheerganga, a camping site near a hot spring with a colony of semi-permanent tents, popular with young revellers not least because of the easy availability of hashish. There were a large number of dogs round about our camp constantly skirmishing. She must have decided to take her chances with us.

Here are some pictures taken along the trail.

The view across the Parbati on the way to Tunda Bhuj

Vijay and Jackie sitting companionably

An almost vertical wall of rock guards the right bank of the Parbati along this trail. High up on the wall, incredible as it may seem, there is a flock of sheep and goats advancing along a strip of green pasture. Our guide points out the shepherds trail. Here, every bit of green it seems is precious and the difficulty of access does not daunt the shepherds.

When we stop for lunch on the way I notice that our dog – someone called her Jackie and the name has begun to stick - has already made some friends in our group.

Down the trail, we meet a shepherd with a large flock and dogs. I overhear our guide Hari trying to talk him into adopting Jackie, but he is not interested. Jakie remains with us for now.

A waterfall into the Parbati just by our camp at Tunda Bhuj

Day 3: 18th Sept, Tunda Bhuj (3235 m) to Thakur Kuan (3541), 7.6 km, 6 hr

Today, the trail is easy and through more open but still beautiful country. We walk just by the side of the river. The weather is balmy.

After reaching camp, Rohit our trek leader takes us for a acclimatization hike up a nearby hill.

Resting after a 150m height gain above camp.  Picture Credit Rohit

View of the Thakur Kuan camp from above. Picture Credit Rohit

Day 4: 19th Sept. Thakur Kuan (3600 m) to Odi Thatch (3879 m), 9.7 km 6.5 hrs

The main challenge today is to cross the Parbati over a huge boulder that straddles the river. This natural rock bridge goes by the name Pandu Pul.

Ascending Pandu Pul

Our guides fix ropes. One by one, we climb and wait on top of the rock for the rest of the team. We spot Jackie just after the last person in the team has reached the top. She has been patiently waiting in the wings. Everyone waits anxiously to see if she will be able to clamber up the smooth rock for which we took the help of ropes.

Jackie tests the waters so to speak by climbing up a steep gradient, slipping and sliding a bit and then settling for a slope she can handle. She is amongst us in no time and basks in our midst, posing for photos.

Back row (l to r) Vijay, Pratibha, Ashish Front (l to r) Anshul, Jackie, Omkar and Satyajit

Descending Pandu Pul

We have not yet finished crossing the Parbati. Right now we are sitting literally on top of the river.

One face of the boulder we are on drops at a steep angle to the other bank. Loose stones have been piled up on the rock to make a sort of stairway. We again use ropes to come down. Jackie comes last effortlessly running down the stairway.

On the way to Odi Thatch. Picture Credit: Rohit

En route to Odi Thatch. Picture Credit Rohit

Day 5: 20th Sept. Odi Thatch (3876 m) to Mantalai (4148 m), 10.2 km, 6.5 hrs

Today, we plan to walk to a lake called Mantalai located at a height of over 4000 m. The day starts bright and sunny. We walk above the tree line and in a wide valley with sparse vegetation. The river bed broadens and looks like a lake with sand banks. This is a perfect place for a group photo.

L to R: Onkar, Anshul, Prashant, Ashish, Vijay, Pater, Sanjay, Chetram, Hari, me, Satyajit, Pratibha. Picture Credit Rohit

The broad expanse of the Parbati

Sand banks. Picture Credit Rohit

Up towards the head of the valley, one can see snow clad peaks. The Parbati meanders its way through the valley.

Somewhere on the way, our guide advises us to stop feeding Jackie. He claims that villages in Spiti impose a fine of Rs 15000 on trekking groups which bring dogs with them. 

We meet a group travelling in the opposite direction and Hari requests their guide to take Jakie back. The man pets Jackie and keeps her occupied while we move on. 

A little later, I notice that Jackie is back with us.

We begin a climb over an escarpment that will take us to the lake. For the last five days, we have had excellent weather with not a cloud in the sky. This is too good to last and the weather starts taking a turn for the worse. The view ahead is obscured by low clouds. Soon we sight the huge expanse of the lake.

Weather deteriorates as we approach Mantalai

Mantalai

It begins to rain. After a brief stopover at a shrine, we continue on a path skirting the lake. I look back and Jackie is there trotting along. Shortly we are at the campsite welcomed by a Pizza that the cook has made for the occasion.

Camp at Mantalai Picture Credit Rohit

Day 6: 21st Sept. , Mantalai (4136 m) to Parbati base camp (4945 m), 5 km, 6 h

The weather has cleared and it is again a bright sunny day. Today is going to be a tough day. We will be gaining 800m in height and camping at the base of the Pin Parbati pass.

Upstream of Mantalai

Parbati Valley looking downstream

A steep ascent begins unfolding expansive views of the lower reaches of the Parbati glacier - of glacial pools in different colours of blue and green. The campsite is on an inhospitable sloping boulder strewn ground at over 4900 m (16000 ft). The white mass of a part of the Parbati glacier is visible above. Tomorrow is D day when we must get to the pass and descend into Pin valley.

Glacial pools in different colours

Pyramid Peak (6036 m) in the background

Camp (4945 m) at base of Pin Parbati pass. Picture Credit Chetram

Around midnight it starts snowing.  We are awake most of the night beating the tent sides to push the snow off the fabric and prevent it from collapsing over our heads.

Day 7: 22nd Sept, Parbati base camp (4945 m) via Pin Parbati pass (5300 m) to Shepherds camp (4373 m),  ~ 9 km, 9.5 hrs

Picture Credit Vijay

I expect that we will wait for the weather to improve, but I am proved wrong. The call comes to hurry up and get ready. Rohit has taken the decision that we should go ahead and cross the pass. Tents are packed in a hurry and we are ready to go by 8 am.

We set out in single file sticking to the track made in the snow by those ahead.  It is continuously snowing and white all round except for the occasional brown of a boulder sticking out. I find it difficult to keep to the pace of the group and start falling back. Soon I am bringing up the rear along with Peter, the trekker closest in age to me.

The snow continuously beats on my face. It becomes difficult to see through my glasses because of the water and snowflakes clinging to it. My “waterproof” gloves are soaking wet. I stop to look back to see a white featureless expanse. There is nobody behind us. When I turn around, I notice that the gap between me and Peter has increased. Those ahead of us have vanished from sight. The falling snow is trying its best to obliterate their tracks.

The scene at 8.11 am, Prashant looking on. Picture Credit Rohit

For a moment, I panic. I am gasping for air. I can’t get enough Oxygen into my lungs - we are at over 5000 m – just to keep up my current pace. I don’t think I can manage to speed up even a tiny bit to close the gap with Peter. I shout out to Peter, but it seems that my voice does not carry. On the second or third attempt, I see him glance back. I gesture to him to slow down a bit and he nods in understanding. From then on I plod along matching his every step with one of mine. I lose track of how long we do this. Eventually we spot our guide Chetram standing at a vantage point, waiting for us.

In a while we get to the glacier. The team has now slowed down enough for me and Peter to keep pace with the rest. The crevasses on our path are spotted by the sardar of the porters – Tiku – who has crossed the Pin Parbati pass five times just this year. He knows the route like the back of his hand and walks in front with a trekking pole, prodding the ground. When he finds a crevasse, a shout goes out for the three roped up leads to take position on either side and guide the rest on where to step, jump and land. We follow this routine crevasses after crevasse, slowly snaking our way up to the pass which we reach at 11.30am.

At the pass, 11.32 am , Picture Credit Rohit

We are at a height of 5300 m (17450 ft). There is no respite from the snow. Visibility is down to a few meters. After five minutes of congratulatory exchanges and posing for photos Rohit orders us to begin the downward journey. 

On the way down, Prashant roped up 11.40, Picture Credit Rohit

Porters contingent leading, Hari behind 11.41am, Picture Credit Rohit

We are now on a glacier that feeds the Pin River and there are more crevasses to be negotiated. The downward journey is much faster and easier on the heart and lungs. In view of the continuing bad weather, we decide to skip the usual camping site at the base of the pass. The idea is to try and lose as much altitude as we can before we stop for the day. After crossing the glacier, we continue the steep descent along a tributary of the Pin till we reach the river.

Trek Leader Rohit beaming after the successful
crossing, 11.40am

Our camping ground for the day is some distance downstream on the other side of the Pin. Right now water is flowing till mid calf level. I begin the painful operation of removing my shoes using numb fingers. We cross the freezing river barefoot. I am the last person to cross and begin the journey along the Pin to our camp. Actually, I am not the last. I catch a glimpse of Jackie running downstream on the other side. She seems to know of a better place to cross.

We reach the campsite, a desolate spot without any cover, wet and miserable. The kitchen and dining tents and a couple of the smaller two man tents are put up with difficulty. Eight of us will have to share the dining tent. Everything is wet - our backpacks, shoes and the clothes we are wearing. I spot Jackie wet and dishevelled picking up some leftovers outside the dinner tent. She has managed to swim or wade across the Pin!

I am obsessed with trying to get as dry and warm as possible. I decide to sleep in one of the two person tents as there is more space (than in the dining tent with 8 people) for me to rummage through my backpack for dry clothes.

The inside of the tent is wet. The rain covers have been inadequate to keep water out of the backpacks. So is the case with my rain coat and pant. The layer of clothes just inside including my precious down jacket is wet. Part of my sleeping bag is wet. The only dry clothes left with me are those that I had wrapped in plastic before placing inside my bag. I wear everything I have one on top of the other and settle down for a night that promises to be cold and miserable.

It snows throughout the night and I keep busy beating the snow off my tent to prevent it from collapsing on me. Water condenses on the inside fabric of the tent and falls in large drops making anything not wrapped in plastic inside the tent damp. Morning when it comes is deliverance.

Day 8: 23rd Sept, Shepherds Camp (4373 m), Pin Valley to Mudh (3800 m), ~ 25 km

We get marching orders soon after morning tea. Today we have to get to Mudh village come what may. Any more camping is infeasible considering the state of our gear. It is snowing without letup. 

What follows is several hours of walking in snow and slush with the feeling of being wet all the time. We take a quick grab at lunch standing; there is nothing to shelter us from the falling snow.

View along the way, 11.58 am, Picture Credit Rohit

Sometime in the afternoon, we reach a road. This is part of a grandiose project to connect Spiti with Kinnaur. The road lacks a bridge over a stream called Pagal Nala; so no vehicle can reach this stretch of the 'road'.

Now begins an interminable trudge on the road – it is actually just a broad beaten track without a bitumen top – following the valley of the Pin. After several hours the road skirts around a fold in the mountain to reveal Pagal Nala in all its frightening glory. It is really a mad cascade of water hurtling noisily down a hill and breaking into numerous frothing streams. My heart sinks at the thought of crossing this raging stream. How am I going to get across without getting completely wet? Just then I spot our guide Hari standing near a makeshift bridge over the nala a little downstream. He motions to me to cross and keep walking on the road.

We had been told earlier that attempts would be made to arrange a vehicle for us from Pagal Nala to Mudh, a distance of about 10 km. There is no sign of any man or machine here. The road is a little better from now on but the snow is unrelenting and it is starting to get cold. It would take at least 3 hours at our pace to get to Mudh and I have visions of having to stop due to exhaustion and freezing somewhere on this road.

We must have walked a couple of km when we see a tractor coming in the opposite direction. We pile into the trailer attached to it and it makes its way towards Mudh stopping every few minutes to pick up other members of our team from the road. 

At one such stop, I see Jackie. She has miraculously made her way till here. As the tractor starts again, a young porter sitting beside me, barely able to speak because of exhaustion, gestures towards Jackie and utters a hoarse cry ‘doggie’ indicating that we should pick her up. Our guide declines. He says that the dog is now in familiar territory and can make do for itself. We are in no position to argue with him. As the tractor speeds up I can see Jakie breaking into a run behind us.

The road has been breached by a stream a km or so before Mudh and this has happened just in the last couple of hours after the tractor set out from there. We get down and slide down over slithery slopes to reach the field below the village in pitch darkness and then walk through the fields to get to the village. In the darkness, I spot Jackie. She has made it to Mudh after practically running the last 10 km from Pagal Nala.

Mudh has a few guest houses that can put up trekkers and we have taken rooms in one. The women of the village have assembled in the kitchen and welcome us with hot cups of tea. The news has spread that a group of trekkers has just come down over the Pin Parbati pass in extreme bad weather and this is a gesture of solidarity on their part. A few of us who got here earlier completely wet have been provided dry clothes and sweaters by the villagers. With a bathroom, a roof to protect us from the snow, a warm bed with a rajai, our guest house in Mudh feels like heaven.

Day 9: 24th Sept, Mudh Village

Looking out from our guest house

Jackie with Peter at our Mudh guest house

W

We wake up to another cold, wet and dreary morning. There is no activity on the village streets. 

Walking to the ground floor, we spot Jackie lying curled up – a wet bundle – in the corridor.  She has made her peace with the other dogs that populate the guest house. I get the impression that Jackie is not well because she is not her usual bouncy self. However she responds to some petting and food.

That night I tell Peter a story from Mahabharata that I heard from my grandmother as a child.

The story of Yudhishthira and the dog

The Pandavas set out on their final journey from Hastinapura. A dog also follows the group. They reach the great range of mountains: the great Himalayas.

As they proceed further, Draupadi drops dead. Then one by one, Sahadeva , Nakula, Arjuna and finally Bheema fall by the wayside. After every fall, Yudhishthira points out the individual failings of the person because of which he/she could not proceed further. He walks on alone with only the dog for company.

Indra comes in his chariot to take Yudhishthira to heaven. When Yudhishthira pleads that the dog be allowed to accompany him, Indra laughs at him for his foolish love of the dog and says that there is no place in heaven for a dog. 

Yudhishthira insists that the dog must come with him and in the end prevails. The dog reveals itself to be Dharma.

Day 10: 25th Sept., Mudh Village

Mudh under snow, 6.30 am

We cool our heels in Mudh. Jackie is not to be seen today.  It is snowing outside. The road remains breached between Mudh and Sangnam, the next village. The Kaza Manali route is broken. On the other side, the Kaza – Shimla road has also been closed near Tabo. The satellite phone, the only means of communication from Mudh stopped working because its solar powered battery has run out of charge!

The weather starts improving towards the afternoon.

Looking into the valley we walked, 3.20 pm

At the Tara Cafe across the street, we learn from its owner Sonam that dogs are not welcome in Spiti. It seems that dogs follow trekking groups from Kinnaur to Spiti all the time. But the same numbers do not do the reverse journey as there are not as many groups going from Spiti to Kinnaur. Sonam tells us that families here own Yak, cattle and horses, but no sheep or goats. Dogs attack and prey on their sheep. There are at least 10 strays just around his home stay according to him. I can see that Jackie is going to have a tough time here as the passes between Spiti and Kinnaur will remain closed till next summer.

Day 11: 26th Sept. , Mudh Village

Fields of Mudh, 9.28 am

Bright sun and blue sky this morning. There is still no sign of Jackie. With the sun coming out, the battery of the satellite phone gets charged and we are able to make calls. The work of repairing breaches in the road and clearing landslides progresses. We eventually make our way to Kaza that evening.

Himalayan Trek 22, Sept 2018

The Chanderkhani Pass Trek - 2 Nov 2012

Chanderkhani Pass (3525m) – Malana (2625m)

View of the Malana side of the pass

As we move from Chanderkhani pass towards Malana, for a brief period I get mobile coverage from BSNL and I shoot off messages to family giving them my co-ordinates. The descent from the ridge is initially gradual. We reach a rock face where the path is not discernible - destroyed by goats tramping around, my guide informs me. I make my way forward taking steps gingerly.

The hill side progressively gets steeper. The road leading to the dam of the Malana - II hydro electric project, an ugly white gash doubling up on the green hill side is visible far below. Loosing height continuously, and with the advancing afternoon, we are now in the shadow of the Chanderkhani ridge.

The descent is relentless and it appears as if we are climbing down into a deep dark almost conical hole. The hill side is steep and a slip will mean certain oblivion.

Momentarily, I feel confused. Where Am I? Is this a dream or is it for real. Panic strikes me. Is my confusion because of extreme tiredness? I sit down, hailing to Hira to wait. I find something to eat in my bag, drink some water, and rest a while. Then it is time to resume. I keep my eyes focused on where I am going to put my next foot, my mind on the next step. Step after interminable step.

Compare with the first photo for a feel of the height loss

The track leads to a mountain stream, now dry, that tumbles down into the Malana River. We make our way down hopping over boulders. Looking down the course of the stream makes me nervous, for after some point, it is not visible, possibly having taken on a steeper gradient downwards. Eventually, we get off the stream and the path goes down the side of a hill more gently. Hira strikes up conversation with a goatherd, the first person we meet after leaving the pass. We are in a field of cannabis which has been harvested, only the bare stalks now left on the ground. Malana cannot be very far.

It is a little after four when we enter through the upper end of Malana village. Men standing in a group some way away stare at us unabashedly.

A thin man with glazed eyes and untidy appearance accosts me and asks in pidgin English if I would like some charas. We inspect the Dragon guest house and settle for a room with two beds for all of Rs 250, order our dinner and make ourselves comfortable in a balcony overlooking the village. 

The village is spread out on flat ground, at some height above the Malana river. The river itself is far below and cannot be seen. What can be seen is the road on the hill across from the river used to approach the dam of the Malana - II project, several km upstream, where the rivers waters are diverted into a tunnel. The high peaks surrounding the village ensure that it is in the shadow of the mountains for much of the day, like it is now.

The houses are scattered about in no particular order and it is hard to discern any streets. Only a few have traditional slate tiled roofs; the majority have tin roofs. Some are garishly painted with red roofs and walls, some in blue. In the midst of this jumble, there are a few constructions of steel and concrete with flat roofs, unfinished columns left for future expansions. Overall, the village has a far from pleasing appearance.

A group of young men – they say they are from Gujarat – are the other tourists at the lodge besides us. Surprisingly they don’t ask me my name – they only want to know my profession. They have come up from the Jari side and are clearly not here for trekking – and this becomes more apparent later that night.  In the gathering dusk a Shepard returns with his flock. It starts getting really cold and we move inside for the rest of the evening.

Malana - I project dam

Malana (2625m) – Malana roadhead (2000m)

The next morning we wake up Prem, the manager of the guest house, to make tea. Barely have we settled down with the drink, when Prem gets a call on his mobile and he is all tensed up. A rescue is to be mounted to look for a young man from Mumbai who has been missing from Kasol for a week. Prem is a regular with the rescue team composed of villagers of that area and police officials. He has been asked to report to Jari immediately from where the team will fan out to Pulga, Kulga, Josh and Kasol to look for the missing youth. In 5 minutes, Prem has dressed, has his Kulu cap on, and is on his way to Jari. 

It is just past 7 am. Before leaving for Jari, we decide to take a walk through the village. The streets are dirty with slush and the discarded plastic strewn about. The temple of Jamlu devta, the local deity is a three story wood and stone structure in traditional architecture with carved wooden panels. Signs in several places forbid visitors to touch the temple walls or even take photographs. The few villagers we pass on our way out do not greet us or evince any interest in us.

Malana river bed

The descent from Malana village to the road is even steeper than the descent of the previous day. The path winds down the side of a hill that falls straight to the river. The stones placed along the path are covered with a fine powder. Heavy downward steps result in a slide. I slip a couple of times and start choosing my steps carefully. A couple of girls from Malana, busy in conversation, close in from behind rapidly. Momentarily distracted, I fail to control my step, slip and land heavily on my back. I see concern writ on the faces of the girls. Hira too looks worried and offloads me of my backpack. The fall has left my palms bleeding from abrasions, but what is worse, badly shaken my confidence. 

I proceed extremely slowly from there on. My legs are stiff from the previous day’s trek. I have also managed to badly stub the toes on both my feet, and every downward step is painful. We are making our way down a sheer cliff now and there is no leeway for a mistake. I concentrate on my walking as I have never done before, testing every step before easing my weight on the leg. The descent seems interminable.

A linesman at work

At last the path levels out by a stream. I wash my bloodied palms with soap in its sparkling waters. A few minutes later, we reach Malana river and the road. It is 10.30 am.

Malana roadhead -> Jari

There are two ‘run of the river’ hydroelectric projects on the Malana river. The road going past the foot path leading to Malana services a dam several km upstream where the river water is diverted into the tunnel of the Malana – II project. The project has been completed, but the road remains unfinished. So also is a tunnel bored through rock that we walk through before reaching the site where the water after driving the turbines is released back to the river. 

The pond where water is diverted for the Malana – I project lies just beyond. After this point, the road is in better condition and follows the left bank of the river downstream. Hira tells me of his visits to Malana before the Malana – I project came up. The trek then involved walking through forest and along the river on its right bank.

The stairway down to Jari road

Walking down the road, we have company in a young man from Chamba, who is also walking to Jari to get some medicines for a sick colleague.  He tells us that he has been working as a carpenter cum mason at Malana for the past 3 months on a daily wage of Rs 350. He presents a bleak picture of life in Malana – the addiction of men to charas and drink from an early age, the lack of any outlets for outsiders to relax, the lack of medical facilities and non-availability of medicines, the lax morals concerning marriage and sex and the overall lawlessness of the place. 

The villagers are flush with money from growing Cannabis. Officials, from the police downwards, do not interfere in the affairs of the villagers, either because they are afraid to, or for other reasons, he avers. Our conversation comes to a abrupt end when he gets a lift in a truck taking other workers down to Jari.

The Malana and Parvati rivers meet just below Jari. However the Malana – I project carries the waters of the Malana in pipes downhill directly into the Parvati, some km upstream of their confluence.

Malana meets Parvati

A staircase, presumably for the use of maintenance workers, descends to the Parvati alongside the huge pipe carrying the Malana’s waters and this is our path for the last part of our trek. Crossing a bridge over the Parvati, we stand at the gates of the Malana – I power plant on the Jari – Manikaran road at 12.30 pm. In a few minutes, we board a Manikaran bus.

Back in Naggar, my host tells me that Malana used to be a pretty village with traditional structures until a fire destroyed most of the houses some years back.

Ascent to Chandarkhani Pass








Himalayan Trek 7, Nov 2012