Hafta through Hampta

So before you visualize me huffing puffing or as they say in Hindi- Haftey hue through the Hampta pass, let me clarify that the ‘Hafta’ in the name title stands for my week-long trip to Manali, Hampta pass and Lahaul up in the Himalayas. Seven days of eternal bliss soaking in the sun and the cool breeze that one gets to experience high up on the mountains and just under the clouds.

 

It all started with my brother in law Gaurav returning back from Pangarchulla trek. For somebody who is resistant to forming umbilical bonds for most of his life, it seems that the Himalayas finally caught up with him. It was either as if he had left a part of him there on the top or that he had eventually discovered a part long lost. Since his return back, all that Gaurav would wax eloquently about was; how beautiful and simple life was up there without the botheration of modern day living. One day he would go- “Boy, it sure is something. We do not need to go anywhere else. Himalayas are there right there in your backyard. “ and the day next he would be like-  “ Our group was so amazing. You bond with complete strangers like crazy. It is so much fun watching the stars together after a day-long trek.”

 

Needless to say, I was intrigued. Mountains always held an allure for me and if they could do this to Gaurav, I sure hoped the magic of the majestic Himalayas would amplify on me. Job pressures and the bondage of a routine life had sure dulled me into submission. But recently certain unfortituous circumstances like the ill health of my father had shaken me up and made me question my life decisions. My bonds had loosened a bit and I needed no further reason to take the plunge.

 

I found a partner and friend in crime, Sid- short for Sidhartha and together the plotting started. Airline tickets and the Hampta pass booking were done through a renowned trek company. Having taken care of this we sealed the deal for ourselves- now there was no way we could back out without inflicting scathing spousal humiliation of self and hurting our mountain like egos. Actually, it was the best way to burn our bridges in order to chart new territories.

 

For converts such as ourselves, the internet is a minefield of information. ‘People who have been there and done that’ are plenty to dole out much sought out advise. God bless them! We trudged to the nearest Decathlon to accumulate minimal but much needed material things designed for the mountains. As one friend, an old trekker told us, “Take less for you need to carry it yourself, but take what is needed. It could be life saving if the weather turns bad.” Deciding to strike that delicate balance, we did well to keep our backpacks within 8 kgs or so. Sid and I did our share of physical workout before D Day. Day before we were to head out, our families got together and toasted to our well-being. We shared jokes over Nacho snacks and Idra, a Gujrati rice delicacy, Sid’s wife Shalini had so nicely made. I joked with Divya, my better half, that we were simply doing a recce for her and Shalini to go on to the next trek.

 

Morning came and we headed to the Himalayas flying the Maharaja. Nothing had prepared me for the touchdown into Manali airport.  It was ethereal, as if the mountains on either side of the airplane were outstretched hands of Mother Earth welcoming us to snuggle close to its bosom- the Manali valley.  Manali is set in the beautiful green Beas river valley amidst mountains at a height of approx. 6000 ft. Named after the lawgiver sage Manu (Manu Alaya means abode of Manu) who reset human life here after floods deluged the world, is a favorite with Indian families, honeymooners, backpackers, adventure seekers and spiritual seekers alike. Hampta pass is the corridor between Manali in Kulu Valley and the deserts of Lahaul. The change in panorama once one transitions Hampta pass at almost 14000 ft from the lush greens of Kulu valley to the starkly barren landscape of Lahaul is nothing but surreal. This is what Sid and I had come to experience.

Morning of start day we met our teammates, our trek leader Lalit and trek guide Chetram. Lalit had over five years of experience traversing the mountains and had gained requisite expertise from NIM and HMI, two big names as far as mountaineering institutes go. Interestingly he belonged to Rewari, part of rustic Haryana far removed from the shadows of any mountains. Chetram was an affable fellow whom we took a liking to immediately.  We were a small group of nine and thus first name exchanges happened quickly. Most like me had come unable to further resist the call of the mountains. Few were already suffering this affliction called Mountain Malady many years now. Some of my resourceful teammates had filled their backpacks to the brim. Nikhil’s family from Mumbai made sure that when I asked for a nail cutter jokingly, he produced one to set new heights of preparedness.  I heaved a sigh of relief- this would feel just like home!

 

We drove to the Allain Gughal Hydel Power Project, which was the starting point for the trek. The drive up there from Manali is bumpy to say the least. Once there, we settled down to exchange more pleasantries and getting to know the group better. We were strangers for now, but together we expected to trek some arduous but beautiful routes the next few days. Cuppa of chai later, we started our journey to base camp Chika. It was an ideal first day walk through lush green meadows, with Rani ka Nullah flowing alongside through. All of us were in high spirits and were enamoured with the picture perfect scenery around. We exchanged notes. Photographs were being taken by the dozen. We were mad hunters shooting (not literally!) indiscriminately the plentiful game around. Mayank and Nikhil, the youngest of us made sure they were posing enough for that perfect DP. I had enthusiastically brought my Full frame with the 24 mm lens and was glad to oblige. Even though the kit weighed close to 2 kilos, I was sure not going to leave it behind.

Once we reached camp, we got down to what would be our routine henceforth. Stretching exercises and some much needed back massage done by forming a circle, renewed our vigor. Evening snacks would be pasta, maggi or mixed veg pakodas. Gossip would alternate with games. Mafia was an instant hit with all. It’s a game where the participants are assigned to play one of the many roles- Mafia who has the power to kill, Detective who tries to catch the Mafia, Doctor who can save the murdered villager and the poor Villager who role is to die or to play lynchmen to avenge their fellow brethren. Chetram would have us in splits with his comical rantings, “ Mai toh poor Billager hu, yeh Niket isko taste (trust) nahi karna, dekh kahi usse mila hua hain. Main Ghod (God) banta toh batata…” Much laughter later, we would call it a day to be ready for the next one.

The second day walk to Balu Ka Ghera was more challenging but worth every penny. The monsoon rains made sure that flora and fauna were alive to the fullest and dancing to their own wild tune. Horses grazed contentedly in the meadows and stamped their mark moving up and down the rocky slopes with much familiarity. The highlight of the day was the river crossing. Pants folded knee high and boots slung across our necks we waded through the icy cold waters to reach the other side. The only warmth you feel is of the hands of your fellow companions as you cross across in a chain holding hands. Every cell in your lower limb cries mercy. The warmth of the sun striking you once you cross is magical. Lalit, not one to let you cherish this victory, immediately reminded us that there was a bigger river crossing awaiting us later. On the way, we stopped at one of the Dhabas to enjoy a bowl of maggi and continue our chatter over card games and Chai. The Dhaba provided shelter for close to 1.5 hrs till the rain outside continued. Finally as had been the norm for most of the trip, my good friend Sidhartha had to wear his poncho for the rain to stop! It had been such coincidence all along that we actually started to believe that once Sid wears his poncho, the rain Gods above listen.

 

We finally reached Balu Ka Gera which was a picturesque flat campsite covered with wild flowers, sand and glacial melts with beautiful views of the mountains all sides. An NRI Punjabi guy in a parallel team, who had dared to take a generous dip in the cold river water at Chika the previous day was still there one piece. “Ha! Ha! He did survive! “, I wondered.

 

The day 3 trek from Balu ka Ghera to Shea Ghoru via Hampta pass would turn out to be the most thrilling and challenging of all as we would soon find out. The climb up was mostly rocky. There was a terrifying moment when rock boulders came crashing down from above making a loud blast. We ran for the nearest shelter and hid behind large rocks. Luckily the alarm was short lived, as the falling rocks were some distance away and we were far from harms way. We cautiously continued. We would occasionally stop for filling our quota of water from the gently flowing streams or to incentivize our tired limbs with chocolate and nuts. The walk was long and grueling with Hampta pass nowhere in sight. As we kept climbing higher, the air was enveloped with cold mist, which gave such a mystical feel to the proceedings. The sight and feel of it enslaved the senses. I almost expected one of the Gods to show up around the next corner any moment. We kept cheering each other to move forward. Finally Hampta came in sight and we all couldn’t be happier standing there soaking it all in at 14000 feet.

 

Much guffaws and posing for photos later, we had to move to the last leg of our day, which was the steep 70-80 degree descent into Lahaul valley. The change in scenery to that of the cold barren landscape of Lahaul was such a contrast. My mind was though simply focused on taking one step down at a time. With Chetram’s help, I overcame my fears and gently snaked my way down the 2000 feet to where the land leveled off. Another hour of walk on flat rocky terrain brought us to our last campsite at Shea Ghoru. Welcoming bow bows of friendly mountain dogs marked our arrival. We team members exchanged smiles and high fives. We each had challenged our own limits and all had succeeded!

 

Shea Ghoru means Cold Street and true to its name howling winds and incessant rain the previous night, made sure that we stayed layered up within our sleeping bags in the safety of our tents. Morning brought respite and sunshine was greeted with much appreciation. The trek to the final campsite Chattru was nice and easy, a welcome break for most.

We were looking forward to the much heard of Chandratal lake, a few hours drive further from Chattru. If the trek was easy, the drive from Chattru to Chandratal made up for the lack of it. It is challenging at multiple places with water also flowing on it from the nearby Nullahs. An adjacent Tata Sumo got caught in such muddy, uneven, wet terrain and had to be rescued out of it. The drivers though are regular on these routes and used to such offroading.

The drive was worth it for the sheer beauty of Chandratal lake. Water is pristine blue as the lake reflects the clear sky above. It is said that the Pandavas after leaving their kingdom walked up to Chandratal lake, and it is from there that they left for the heavens above. Looking for Moksha, we drank some water from the lake and took some bottled Moksha for our family members!

 

On the way back, acknowledging a group of backpacking foreigners, I realized that irrespective of our backgrounds, in the end, all we are looking for is the limitless! Crossing Batal enroute, we stopped at the famous Chacha Chachi ka Dhaba. Chacha Dorje Bodh and Chachio Hishe Chhomo have been faithfully providing rest, food and much needed help to tourists visiting the region for the last 44 years. Their ‘mirchi ki chatni’ will leave you with a burning desire for more, literally!

Like everything good in life, this too had to finally come to an end. The last and fifth day of our sojourn was a drive back to Manali through Rohtang Pass. We stopped for the customary photo op at Rohtang and savoured yummy roadside snacks. It was good to be back amidst civilization! After much needed rest and a calming massage that day in Manali, Sid and I boarded the flight back home.

Time has passed since I did the Hampta pass. The memories though seem so fresh…! One thing that the trek confirmed what I had wondered all along:

 

“ I had to leave all the learnings

To know what I was all along

If you listen hard enough

In the silence, you hear the life song

Travelling light is the way to go fast

That’s how I found my bliss

Hope I can make it last…”