Monday, Nov 01, 1999
Trip to Garwhal Himals Elaine Rati Kochar |
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You've got to be brave to be an Indian tourist!
Last year Protima Bedi died doing it. A whole bunch of unfortunate souls went straight up to heaven the short way with her.
In olden times when a man achieved the age of 60 he bid farewell, (and not au revoir, mind you, but a definite goodbye)to his kith and kin, and every other acquaintance he knew and they in turn were convinced that that was the last they would hear of him. He had dispensed with his worldly duties and his goods and was to leave on the pilgrimage, which would ensure his entry into heaven. The four " Dhams", in the Garwhal Himals may have been his aim. What a lofty goal to dream of! And at the age of 60 when your ticker isn't all that it used to be and the lungs have got a bit windy with the beedis, the knees are used to being crossed and tucked under most of the day and the stomach has its little whims and fancies and precedes the man to sniff them out. How brave to set off on a road that is almost as nonexistent in places as it is today , at an age of wild animals and villages few and far between. No wonder his family bid him such tearful goodbyes. Most probably that WAS the last they heard of him!
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A month ago I went up to the Garwhal Himals , The Greater Himalayas as they are called. And how great they are! Sheer overpowering, bare massifs scornfully looming over the little termites crawling along the threadlike tracks along their sides. A shrug of a disdainful shoulder or a flick of a rocky finger and they tumble down in disarray to be destroyed under soil and stones. And yet what temerity and tenacity we show. Not, I think, because we have that trait in us as Indians but personally, because those proud mountains are AWESOME,in every sense of the American and the English use of the word. They are truly, unattainably beautiful, an untouchable unspoilable part of our country, a country crawling with people, people, people. Only the very brave or the very foolish try to look down on THEM.
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The Sikh pilgrims are definitely part of the former. Bare foot, chanting prayers, empty stomached and soaking wet, they go from 10,00ft to 12500 ft in 7km. What kept me going were the soaring peaks from which the waterfalls leapt out meters way from the rock face into midair to drop so far down that they get transformed into misty spray before they reach the ground. I trudged on in the face of all the evidence the mules leave behind testifying to the fact they eat a lot of good meals before attempting Hemkund Sahib. I found Eidelweiss clinging to the rocks on the banks of a stream. The electricity poles on the way to Ghangria are twisted and bent like arthiritic limbs, a pathetic testimony to the fact that there used to be electricity in the old days. It certainly isn't coming back in the near future. I keep dreaming of my idealic five hours in the Valley of Flowers to forget how dark and cold my room is with it's missing window pane letting the whistling wind and drizzle in.

It is surprising how few of those pilgrims and tourists go to the Valley, in-spite of being only 6km away from paradise. It maybe because the little bridge to the valley itself is made of two half logs stretched across a gushing torrent! The plants are monstrous in height, trying to reach the sun in this deep valley with its pretty stream, Pushpavati and its myriad of wild flowers
According to the locals this was the best weather to trek in the Garwhals, it only rained every other day and every night. By 11 o'clock in the morning you couldn't see the hand in front of your face with the fog. The mountains refused to unveil their faces (like true Hindu brides) to all and sundry. According to another local, Bhole (Lord Shiv) is busy smoking his pipe, which is why there are always clouds over the mountains. He was partying when I went up.

Auli is another story best left for another day. Remember to gird the loins next time you decide to travel in the Indian Himals. They are the most addictive mountains of them all.
A recovering traveller
P.S.
Here is some info on the trip to Hemkund and Badrinath in the Garwhal Himals in UP.This is a state in the north bordering Nepal and Tibet. The Himalays here include some of the highest peaks. The Valley of Flowers was discovered by Frank Smythe after his Kamet expedition.
I started the journey from Haridwar in UP. Trains as well as buses go from Delhi and other places. From Haridwar there is a motorable road upto Joshimath.

From Joshimath it takes two days to go up to Hemkund Sahib, the Gurdwara of the Sikhs. Then another day for the Valley of flowers. Another day back down to Hardwar. The whole trip would take 5 days if the weather was clear.
The Garwhal Mandal Vikas Nigam has rest houses and tourist rooms at every place. Only Ghangria is uncomfortable due to no electricity.The food is cooked by them and is good wholesome Indian food, although there is some gruesome south Indian and Chinese food available. There are numerous other hotels and dhabas.
Have at least two pairs of walking shoes, they tend to get wet. A raincoat
is essential and woolens, heavy ones in Sept. Bedding is available in abundance. A torch and candles are a must even for places with electricity.
Hope this is a help. For more info use the Lonely Planet guides, I live on their help. I would gladly answer any other questions and would love some company on my next trip.
Elaine
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