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7 - 24 Jun 2007 18-days Indian Himalayas Bhapa Pass Trek & Manali

The group comprised of the 8 ladies and 3 men, led by a Yongo regular Soh Hee Kok. Where are all the male adventurers in Malaysia? The group was blessed by good weather for the duration of the trip. This year and possibly for all future trips, we will use jeeps rather than buses that will hasten road journeys. Yong Lee Min wishes to express his thanks to the contributor for this write up.

The Yongo-Bhaba 2007 trek, centre-stage in the Himalayan splendour of India by Thang Mun Yee (Yongo first-timer)

Day 1 KLIA - Delhi

Our fresh faces and clean backpacks radiated the comforts of the familiar left behind when we meet. We take-off in high-spirits to earn our Bhaba badges.

Delhi is hot – forewarned! Welcomed by a heat blast as we step out into India , we move quickly with Mohinder, the guide of our journey. Onwards to Manali, or rather ‘honk-wards' as our bus does, all the way.

Day 2 Manali take-it-easy day

Sixteen bus-hours later, when it seemed picturesque mountain roads winding through towns, showing off the might of Indian engineering feats in its roads and hydro dams, might not sustain us any longer, we reach Manali. Tuk-tuks snaked in and out of the bustling town, ignoring its precious cargo (us). Generally, Malaysians recuperate over food, and we were typical – Momos and kitchen handwork of a pair of pretty Tibetan sisters (get Mr Soh to show you pictures) were devoured, lips smacking. The differences of the world should be settled over a glass of mango lassi. Nothing quite matched its ability to evoke that “...ahhhh...” feeling that spoke of weary spirits revived. Ginger ‘chai' (tea) in the cold mountain air, works similar wonders.

 
Our jeeps / Mirror Lake Chandertal

Day 3 Solang Valley

We forget Bhaba a little because it's extreme sports day – paragliding and zorbing in Solang Valley . Sado-masochists rolled down hills in plastic balls only to climb even higher to soar out into the blue of the Himalayas spread out ahead.

Why the Indian villagers bear with a bunch of trekkers intruding in their lives, picking their apples, poking cameras in their faces and running through their orchards is anybody's guess; it may have been our cheery ‘Namaste's. But our ‘hosts' obliged and waved, posed and returned our greetings, looking up from their daily grind with huge grins as we trekked back to Manali. What should have been a 4-hour trek stretched.....

Days 4 to 8 Spiti Lahuali Valley , Lake Chandertal , Kibber, Dhankar & Tabo

Inadvertently, going on endless winding roads cooped up in jeeps made us long for the journey on foot to start. Surrounded by the majesty of the ranges as far as the eye could see, framed by snow peaks and clear blue skies – we took in all this from a vehicle. Unthinkable! But the wanting resulted in some serious itchy feet.

So, it's a starting jeep drive to Rohtang pass 3978m, a snowy playground popular with the Delhi crowds running away from the scor chin g summer, on to Kunzum Pass 4551m, Batal, Chandertal Lake 4270m, Kaza, Tabo and Mud. The natural question to ask the driver was how many miles we had driven but distance was measured in time to destination and that depended on how well we kept to plan at each stop .. stop asking ...

Our Indian crew was locals who by geographical and historical determination yielded a combination of Indians, Sikkimese, Nepalese, and Tibetans. They were cooks, drivers, guides, navigators, horsemen; forget the 2-D Marlboro men...these are real, experienced and colourful multi-taskers who had more than a tale to share. They were Buddhists and Hindus, accepting spiritual influence in daily lives. Thus, the clockwise drive around stupas, hands clasped and heads bowed in prayer, going barefoot, tolling bells, passing around sweets after temple offerings were shared observations in return for safe passage in the perilous Himalayan routes.

Likewise, us trekkers also shared this respect; “..those lines are for prayer flags, not your clothes; these stacked rocks are stupas – be careful where you make a toilet!...”

The setting of the monasteries we visited are visual wonders. Perched on mountain sides, the village backdrop sprouted from rock faces in harmony with the surroundings. Irrespective of billings as second highest village or centuries of age, custodians of precious holy artifacts rescued from hostile territories, whatever one's beliefs, there was a tendency to be lulled into serenity where you become aware of your own breathing. Whether it's because of the latent historical significance or monks didn't believe in installing more light switches, one treaded lightly and spoke in hushed tones so that one's presence did not feel like an intrusion.

Thus, it was nice to finally roll into the village of Mud (pronounced Mood), starting point of the trek.

 
Bhapa Pass beckons / Group arrives on Bhapa Pass 4890m

Days 8 to 12 Trekking 5 days 4 nights Mudh, Bara Bolander, Fauti & Mooling

This was the best part of India – can't help it if this is unfair billing; trekkers trek and everything else, although special in their own right, are just trimmings, side offerings, well ok, a complement but not THE experience.

One suspects that the trekking hours indicated in the itinerary were timed after people who raced through the trails. There were sprawling vistas to be inhaled, minute details of the flora to be marveled at, wild strawberries to be picked...sheep and yaks and horses to be counted with the herdsmen ..nature's grafitti on the landscape couldn't be fully appreciated in a rush... but time was sensibly observed with good reasons.

We walked terrains – criss-crossing rolling green pastures to barren rocks and glaciers; icy streams rushed into rivers that fell from different heights and Mohinder sometimes said ‘..look behind you..' so that we could drink in the full combined magnificence of the landscape we had left behind us.

We made it up the Bhapa Pass 4890m, congratulatory hugs exchanged all around. The oldest trekkers in the group showed us a thing or two about grit and determination - it wasn't all about brawn. The idiom 'as old as the mountains' spoke of strength in wisdom, maturity, patience. It was nice to think of our trek not just as a triumph of the human spirit alone but supported by favourable elements. The sun shone its approval, strong winds slumbered and as if to crown a beautiful day, it snowed during our descent – soft powdery flakes falling lightly that made us all whoop in delight as we skidded down the ice!

Perhaps to remind us that the journey wasn't just about getting to the Pass, little adventures unfolded daily. Trekkers falling into icy river; what was supposed to be dry beds (someone said sleeping), but at the time were roaring currents. Trekkers getting lost briefly in the alpine forest; all on days that were touted as a walk in the park. Nature has a sense of humour!

Camping is an adventure art in itself. Struggling with the first tent pit chin g at Dadar Pul, we were quite skilled by the time we broke last camp at Mooling. From tossing around in snatches of sleep, we graduated to full scale snorers. This matched our acclimatisation progress - after the highest casualty count at Chandratal, the complaints of headaches and nausea went down. Appetites returned, the best indicator that all was well.

 
Flower meadows over Bhapa Pass / Our pack horses on the trail

Day 13 to 18 R&R Shimla, Agra , Jaipur, Delhi

What trekkers look forward to after days of camping is some serious R&R and a good hot scrub. We found this in Shimla - good cafes, bazaars where one could walk unharassed exploring hidden nooks and crannies. Back among the holiday crowd.

We were making our way back to Delhi , on the way taking in the romance of the Taj Mahal, the city sights of Jaipur, the Pink City of Rajasthan. We visited magnificent forts and palaces, showcases of ancient architectural ingenuity combining aesthetics with practicality. They were monuments of past excesses and opulence, symbols of love and violence, betrayal and religious piety, protective walls that kept enemies at bay but could not shield the patrons from themselves. They speak for the land of contrasts that India continues to be today, evident in the faces and lives that unfold in the streets.

So many forts, buildings and monuments later, the sweltering heat and humidity were taking a toll on us as we took refuge in chais and lassis in the Golden Triangle lap. In courtyards where consorts and harem members once rested and played, our local guides chastised us for not paying attention to their spiel. We begged off bird wat chin g and took pleasure in the more familiar sport of souvenir shopping.

The Indian experience is not complete without a ride on the Indian Railway – the clockwork service delivery was impressive. Nor should one miss the Mahathma Gandhi memorial – it's not about what you see as India is not just about sights. Here was the resting place of a great man whose ideology of peace continues to inspire. Observing a moment's silence, one still feels the love of his people and the loss we suffered.

Day 18 Last day – Indira Gandhi International Airport, Departure

The worn and tanned faces, scruffy clothes and dusty backpacks radiated the glow of our Indian adventure. Our Bhaba badges pinned in our hearts, it's a high-spirited take-off before we all snore our way back home.

 
Lepak town Shimla / Jaipur's Ameer Fort

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