Phugtal Gompa, Zanskar

Last night at the Khangsar campsite was beautiful, have never seen the Ursa Major up so close and clear. Today is a short couple of hours' trek to the 2000-year old and one of the largest Buddhist monasteries in the Himalayas...Tenzing studies vedic medicine here in the winters.

The Gompa was awe-inspiring. I had seen photographs before but as the sight of the structure built on a sheer cliff came into view, one could not help but stop and gape at the incredible sight. Its fabled that there is a large tree that grows a bit further up the mountain from the Gompa whose roots connect to another similar tree across the river on the opposite bank - see the pics. Fact or fable, who knows...I'd like to believe it, life is so much more interesting without having to believe only that which can be proved...

The trek back was painful with the blisters still rearing their ugly heads. A French couple accosted me as our paths crossed, we chatted up on the usual who, where, whys - they saw me limping and curiously asked me if I was doing this trek as some parikrama or penance ! I told them not all people in India are that philosophical...the rest of the way back I wondered - was this some sort of parikrama I was not aware of ?

Back at the Khangsar campsite, Tenzing and I sat and talked, gazing at the mountains around us. A nice German lady who was also camped there came up and we chatted about Hinduism, Buddhism, life and stuff for a while. She read one of the poems I wrote along the trek and said she like it though her English wasn't too strong. Wished I could have spoken more intelligibly about Indian philosophy, Hinduism-she seemed to know more than I did...

As night fell, Chintu and Kalu - our loyal horses - went missing deep in the mountains. Tenzing had left them on the ridge closeby to graze but there were nowhere to be seen. An anxious Tenzing ran up the mountain with a torch to find the horses. He was gone a long time. I fired up the stove and started up on the broth for dinner, sat there watching a faint light bobbing around the mountains - Tenzing's flashlight. He was having a tough time finding the horses.

Finally after more than an hour I heard the fimilar clanging of the bells the horses wore around their necks. Tenzing was exhausted, tied up the horses and got down to the dinner I had got ready by then. We ate quietly and watched the stars come out...

Khangsar, Zanskar (3800m)

An unbelievably torturous day. I can only lie back in the tent and think about it, I dont even have the energy to write the accounts of the day in my little log book...had left Kargyak at 0930 and reached Khangsar at 1830. The blisters are painful and are slowing me down, it was a mistake to burst them. Lessons in first aid, the hard way.

Met a boy of 11 at Kuru village and gave him my address so he could write to me. He studies at the Himalayan Buddhist Cultural School in Manali, I remember having seen it on the highway. Maybe I will visit him there someday...another few hours down the trail, I met another boy of 14 sitting on a tree trunk staring at me walking by. I assumed he would not know any Hindi or English. Tried confirming the route with him with sign language. He replied in perfect English. Tenzing Rangdol. Where was I ?

Feet hurt, the blisters are a punishment. Can't imagine how I will make it to Padum. 2 more days. Hell, if I made it till here, I'll make it all the way. This trek is tough. I will come again and do it without all this pain...

Kargyak, Zanskar (4180m)

A tough day, 25 km from Lakang to the beautiful campsite at Kargyak

Over Shingo-la (5100m) onto Lakang, Zanskar (4600m)

0830-Started off towards the highest pass in the journey across Lahaul and into Zanskar. The pass marks the boundary between Himachal and J&K. Advisable to cross the pass before noon as icy winds cut into you if you are late over the pass...

After half hour ran into an American going the other way. He was also solo and had come down from Lamayuru in Ladakh where I was headed. He had lost his voice over the last 2 weeks, we had a brief conversation with hand signals and grunts and went our separate ways...

Chumiknakpo, Lahaul (4360m)

0930-Started out towards Chumiknakpo. Crossed a risky hanging bridge, the horses panicked and one almost stepped off the bridge into the raging Bassi. Tenzing turned them back off the bridge and calmed them down. They were across on the second try. That was close.

Right after the bridge, a steep ascent, dusty and rocky. The feet were taking a nasty pounding. An hour into the ascent we came across a group from Europe who had left for Chumiknakpo the previous day. Apparently, a few of them developed altitude sickness and they had camped mid-way and were preparing to head back to Zanskar Sumdo now. A little later we passed a group of Americans who had left Zanskar Sumdo half hour before us. We were making good pace. But not without its cost, a small headache started rearing its ugly head. I slackened the pace, we were gaining altitude and the pace was too much. Headache is one of the symptoms of HACE-High Altitude Cerebral Oedema, the others being nausea, vomiting, fatigue, and loss of apetite. We had approximated the walk to Chumiknakpo to be about 5 hours, we had been going only half that time till now. It was turning out to be a tough day in the mountains...

The last hour was torture, my head was pounding and feet ached, I was stumbling on occassion. Not a good sign. I was not able to keep pace with Tenzing and the horses and fell back about 5-10 mins. Later I realised I had got myself into trouble with altitude sickness because I had tried to keep pace with Tenzing. I had forgotten the basic tenet of the mountains, as indeed of life itself - know your limitations. I had tried to keep pace with a man born of the mountains, who has a zillion more red blood cells carrying oxygen to his muscles than I did...

Then the hallucinations. Well, not really, I exaggerate. But then in the mountains the line between reality, dreams, and apparitions gets a little blurred. As I trudged along, I started to think about lounging at home sipping a cool beer with folks. Oh how I yearned for that comfort. We appreciate so many things in life when we experience their absence. Why? I must ve thought about this for an hour as I found myself slipping into a strange trance, the pain in the legs was gone, I was not real...it came upon me that this big trek, the Infinite Trail, will help me appreciate a lot of things that I had until now taken for granted...out here its tough, it tests you, its lonely, it can kill you...

Suddenly the humble, dusty campsite of Chumiknakpo came into view, I was delighted. 4 hours which seemed like 8. We pitched tents right away, I helped Tenzing with his first and then we set up mine. I had a throbbing headache and Tenzing confessed he had a mild one too. I washed the mud off my legs down at the stream, limped back to the tent and crashed my beat body.

1500-Headache was worse now, Tiger balm was invoked. After half hour, my worst fears came true. It was indeed the onset of HACE. I began to feel nausea and loss of apetite. I could not get myself to down the broth that Tenzing had cooked. But I knew I had to force it down if I were to have any chance of fending Oedema off and continuing on my journey. Especially given that the next day is tough - we will gain 700m in 3 hours to cross the tough Shingo-la(5100m). Things were not looking good...

1800-We had dinner quietly. I was again not able to help Tenzing much. We talked slowly while he cooked and I did little odd jobs. After dinner around 1900 the light began to fade. They said it will be colder tonight than last night. Another fitful night in the cold. Thankfully, the generous herdsman in Zanskar Sumdo had insisted that I keep the blanket. Maybe he knew that I would not have survived without it. He had also refused any payment for it. I was indebted to that kind man, I really was...

Zanskar Sumdo, Lahaul valley (3840m)

Terrible night in Palahmo. The cold was going right thru all the equipment and clothing, I was cold to the bones. Then the dreams started...bad dreams, nightmares. I kept slipping into sleep despite the cold and then waking up with a start. I lay there shivering wondering whether the dreams were because of the high altitude. I was in the middle of nowhere and alone...

Morning brought relief with the warm sun flooding the valley. But I felt low, tired mostly due to lack of sleep, but also low because of the dreams. 0900 we set off for Zanskar Sumdo, the trail got more rocky, furious streams came down from the mountains to join the grand Bassi river, had to be waded thru, no foot bridges. The water was ice cold, made your feet go numb. "Taang mat uthao, Bassi me bhe jaoge!" laughed Tenzing. Feet would go red and would start to hurt once these streams were crossed. It was sweet torture, the infinite trail was indeed here. Pain is good, funny thing that, in a true adventure you remember it better than the fun times, so in a way its better fun than the fun times...

In about 3 hours we were at Zanskar Sumdo. Not as pretty as Palahmo, landscape was slowly getting more deserted and rocky. Tenzing heated up some wholesome Sattu ki chai. These mountain folks live on Sattu, ground barley/wheat. After tea I mustered up the courage to walk down to the freezing stream and wash some clothes. I carried only a few pairs. But as I got to the stream all valor ran out, it was windy and cold and moreover the water was muddy, back I trudged to the tent. All this walking about was tiring.

But on the way back I came across a small pond, an oasis of sorts where clean water had sprung from the ground. I grit my teeth and got down to a quick bath while the sun was still out and warm. Shed all my clothes, filled my drinking water bottle and bathed at a distance from the pond. The cold water must have killed my skin cells. It sure numbed by brain cells for long after I was dry and in my tent. Risky thing to do this, never do it unless yr used to it and u know the sun will be out for at least a few more hours...

Sat under the sun with a local herdsmen discussing politics. Unbelievable. It was great, he was well informed and had some pretty strong views on stuff. I told him about my cold night in Palahmo. That kind man returned in a while after our conversation with a warm blanket. The mountain folks are the most generous of people. We city folks have so much to learn from them.

1730 -Tenzing had fired up the stove and dinner was cooking. I helped with cutting the vegetables. I need to help him a bit more as the journey goes, dont want to feel like a tourist trekker.

2000- Light is fading. Its tough getting sleep early but there's nothing else to do. I've been sitting outside the tent and watching the mountains for the last couple of hours. Tenzing is tending to the horses. Guess I'll lay down and listen to the roaring Bassi. Tommorrow will be a tough climb to Chumiknakpo...

Palahmo, Lahaul valley (3600m)

Tenzing arrived with Chintu and Kalu at 0915, loaded up the provisions, and we were on the rocky trail by 1000 under a slight drizzle. We walked along the Barai Nala, ocassionally fording little streams. They're building a road till Zanskar Sumdo, about 5km into the mountains. Probably good the locals, not so good for trekkers.

Palahmo campsite in about 3 hours. One of the most beautiful campsites I've seen. Pitched camp next to a large gurgling stream. Tenzing pitched his camp too and fired up the stove for tea. Sat listening to the sounds of the stream flowing down for the mountain far...

Flowing down

from the mountain high

seems to come from the sky

i sit on the rock

watching it gurgle by

close my eyes

hear it flow so nigh

the mountains dont talk

the valleys dont speak

but the river of the sky

you can hear it sing

if you close your eyes and try

At about 2100 I witnessed what must be the most beautiful thing I have seen yet. The full moon broke out from behind the Great Himalayan range and the valley was washed in a blanket of white. It was surreal, felt like God had switched on a light up above. It seemed like day, but the night was everywhere, it was a hypnotic mix. The moon cast its shadow in the stream which was flowing stronger now, the only thing you could hear that night apart from the occasionally neigh of the horses. It was all so unreal. I sat watching the moon for the longest time. Where am I? I wanted to completely lose myself, sitting there I wondered how many months/years of wandering in the mountains would it take one to completely forget who one was or where one came from...why is that we harbor this deep desire to escape ourselves. How did we fill ourselves with so much poison...

Darcha, Lahaul Valley (3360m)

It took 3 hours to cross Rohtang pass in that beat Sumo, slush and the usual traffic jams. Another half hour after the pass, we stopped for lunch which I shared with the Sumo driver. He could not have been more than 18 and spoke with his mouth full of daal-bhaath. Another couple hours later, we hit Keylong where I had to change into a government run jeep. Surprisingly, it left at exactly the appointed time for Darcha, a couple of hours away. An hour into the journey, the jeep with max capacity of 10 humans was carrying 18. Everyone adjusted and was sitting at strange angles to each other, no one murmured a trace of protest at the fact that the driver merrily picked up anyone who flagged him off on that lonely road. He seemed to know everyone, one of the many endearing things about the mountain folk. It was quite a motley bunch -farmers, carpenters, hunters, wage laborers, a family returning from a wedding/reception, and a local drunk.

We rolled into the quaint little village of Darcha at about 1700. The jeep stopped right outside where I needed to go - Leh dhaba. I was to meet one Mr. Negi from the Mule Trekkers Association here, he would introduce me to the horseman who would take me to Ladakh thru Zangskar. As I alighted from the jeep, he accosted me. Later he was to tell me that he knew it was me as he had rarely heard of desi trekkers going solo in these parts. We trooped off for a hot cup of tea as Pratap Negi dispatched a runner to fetch Tenzing from Limquim village close by. The horseman.

Later we headed to the provision store next door to buy up provisions for the journey. There would be no food available till Padum, the capital of Zangskar- a 9day trek from Darcha so we needed to stock up carefully. Rice, dal, gajar, beans, potato, onions, haldi, cooking oil, namak, tea, sugar, atta, etc. We lugged the stuff back to Leh dhaba where I was to spend the night. They had about 7-8 beds for trekkers in a small room adjoining the dhaba. 50 bucks a night.

Soon Tenzing arrived. A quiet, sober soul, like most mountain folk. He asked for a bit more than what I was promised in Manali but I didn't care, it was not material. I saw it like income distribution, plus I didn't have much of a choice. I was dying to get started. Fetched out my maps and we discussed the route. Tenzing was not too keen to go all the way to Lamayuru(19 days trek) and promised to find me another horseman at Padum. If he couldn't, he'd make the journey with me. So it was settled and we parted with Tenzing promising to come with the horses at 0900.

Negi and I had a quick thali dinner with tea and hit the beds. I lay awake for a while staring out the window at the moon, full and low. It washed the valley white. Technically, the next night was to be the full moon night. Ah, full moon night in Lahaul valley ! I was living my dream, I really was. I smiled and tried to sleep, I felt so free it was hard to sleep. Tommorrow the journey thru Lahaul and into the heart of Zangskar begins...

Manali

Got a room at DMAS, the trek prep starts now. Met the folks at the office to check the position on weather and status of the passes leading into Lahaul and beyond. They also guided me to Vishal Thakur who runs Paramount Adventures in Manali and was an instructor at DMAS earlier. Vishal was a great guy, helped with hiring horses and parted with some of his stock of kerosene which was not easy to come by in Manali town. Provisions would be bought in Darcha.

After a couple of days of trying to organise horses to take me across Zanskar into Ladakh, it was settled. A horseman with 2 beasts would be waiting for me at Darcha and I was to head out across the Rohtang pass into Lahaul valley next morning. I planned on catching the 0800 bus out of Manali. The last night in Manali was spend with eager anticipation for the great adventure which was finally taking shape.

Next morning I lugged my rucksack, tent, and 5L of kerosene in a jerrycan to the bus stand. From shock I went to a minor depression of sorts. At the stand, I found to my dismay that all the buses headed to Darcha come full up from the plains. The 0800 bus was full. So would be the following 2 buses at 0900 and 1000, and thats it for the day. I was defeated. I felt lost in the amassing and confusing crowds at the stand. I just stood around dazed for a while. How the hell will I get to Darcha? What will happen if I am not able to meet that horseman tonight? This heading out alone without a trek agency was a mistake. I was already a bit sore on the shoulders carrying the rucksack, tent, and the damned kerosene.

I dragged my stuff to the Nehru park at the end of the mall road and dumped myself on the bench to watch the early morning taekwondo class running. I felt low and lost. For the first time, doubts crept in about this whole Big Trek fantasy, quitting the bank, all this uncertainty. After feeling like this for about an hour, the mood turned to anger, at myself. Hell, snap out out it man. You feel defeated even before the battle has begun? What a shame. I snapped out of it immediately. Lugged my stuff back to the bus stand, determined to find a way to get to Darcha. Hell, I'd sit on top of the bus if thats what it took to get to Darcha tonight.

Fortune favors the optimist. I learnt that day - if you dont know what to do, hell do something! On the way to the stand, I ran into this local standing around the empty mall road. He was eyeing this character walking around all along lugging a huge rucksack and kerosene. I just instinctively asked him how I could get to Darcha. He informed me that a local chap operates a Sumo to Darcha and it should be leaving right about now from behind the bus stop. This was music to my ears! The spirits rose and the adrenalin was flowing again. The sack was not so heavy anymore. Amazing how this works, isn't it?

I got to the indicated spot and lo behold, there was a Sumo parked just like the chap on mall road said. I got hold of the driver and he confirmed that he's leaving for Darcha in 10 mins and he has a couple of seats available. Oh, the joy that coursed through my veins. I wanted to kiss the young man on the cheek, but figured that could cost me my seat. So i jumped into the battered Sumo and sat there with this big silly grin on my face.

The Big Trek was destined to keep rolling....