Hello, everyone! Welcome back to my blog. After a very long time, I have finally decided to upload another story. This one is partly fictious. I say partly, because I have not experienced the events, though a few of my friends have, during their trip to Manali. They recounted it to me and I, with a few additions of my own, have turned it into this story. I hope you will enjoy it. So without further ado, let us begin:
The Manali Snow Safari:
It had been a good enough start to the day. Who would have thought that our Manali trip would end this way? After a trek, a snowfall and a truck ride, I was ready to fall on my side. What? Didn’t understand? Wait, let me explain.
I had gone on a tour of the northern hill station of Manali, with a few of my friends, along with a group of other people we didn’t know. We were to camp at a place called the Solang valley, some fifteen-kilometer upwards of Manali. We were to go on some small trekking expeditions in and around the place to acclimatize ourselves, and then begin to steep ascent to Bhakartach. From there we would then ascend even higher on foot to reach the Beas Kund, the origin of the Beas River, one of the five that gave Punjab its name.
I woke up in the morning and walked out of my tent into crisp morning air of the late mountain summer. I had been extremely cold last night and the weather forecast wasn’t very assuring either. It seemed that for the first time, the Indian Meteorological Department, was actually right. Our tents were arranged in a circle, with a large tent on one end of it. This tent served as the dining hall for the tourists staying in the camp. The smoke rising from behind the tent indicated that breakfast was being prepared, and then I headed back to my tent to prepare myself for the journey ahead.
At eight O’clock sharp, all our co-travelers and us gathered in the tent. We ate our breakfast and then our tour operator started giving us instructions. All of us must take only our essentials in the bags with us. We must all assemble at the entrance to the camp within half an hour. The they would divide us into batches and each batch would be allotted a car. The car would take us halfway to our destination, till the road ended. After that we must cover the rest of the distance to Bhakartach on foot. We would receive packed lunches which we could eat whenever we wanted. It would be late evening when we would arrive at the Bhakartach campsite. We must then eat our dinner and retire to bed early, to reserve as much energy as we can for the beautiful but arduous trek to Beas Kund.
We did as told, and the batches were soon formed. I was put into one with three of my friends and a couple of strangers. The car waiting for us was an old Maruti Gypsy; hard seats and no air conditioning, but the most reliable when it came to climbing these steep mountain roads. Once everyone was in, we left.
We left the Solang valley behind as the road curved up the mountains. For the next hour or so, it was a proper tarmac, with enough space for two cars to pass by. Slowly, the tarmac disappeared, and the rough, bumpy, mud road started. And it was at this time, when the trees around the cliff on our right parted, and we were offered a view of the valley below. The verdant valley was lined all the way to the bottom with pine, cedar, and deodar trees. At the bottom a small river was flowing – the Beas. It was flowing in the opposite direction to us, towards our camp. And it was to the source of this river, we were going to trek tomorrow.
Beyond the river, the cliff rose again, still covered by the alpine trees. Beyond the cliff, several blue, snow-capped mountains stretched away from us, their jagged peaks completely blocking the horizon. The mountains started growing bigger as they went away, as this was the place where the Himachal Range, also known as the middle Himalayas, merged into the Himadri Range, known as the greater Himalayas. Their blue colour almost seemed to be reflecting the sky.
On our left, another mountain face rose up. For most distance, it was covered with again with the dense alpine trees, after which the mountain became barren, and one could the sheer expanse of the brown rock. The snow-capped peak, barely visible, completed the rest of the mountain.
After a three-hour drive in the jeep, we stopped. The motorable mud road actually continued on, probably towards some villages further north, but our trail branched off to the left, and was evidently not motorable. Here even the mud road had disappeared and something that resembled a natural footpath lay before us. We got off the jeep and waited for the others to come. Once the others came, they combined three groups together and assigned two guides to each, who would show us the path up to our next camp.
After a ten-minute rest, we started trekking again, covering the last four kilometers to the campsite, on foot. The ground was covered in about a three-inch thick snow, and anyone who did not know the location we were in, would have confidently claimed that it was Switzerland. The clean expanse of snow indicated that the snowfall was recent. The mud track had invariably disappeared, and we were following the footsteps of the guide, that had imprinted themselves conspicuously in the snow. This being my first direct contact with white and softer form of ice, it took me a little while to soak it all in. The weather was obviously very cold, with the temperature bar in my watch registering a -30 C. Strangely enough, we had not encountered any snow on our way up. So I went up to the guide.
“We haven’t seen any snow on our way up”, I asked him, “and the weather was comparatively warm too. Then why this sudden change in the weather? Or, is this a regular thing?” “It is not a regular thing.”, he replied, “The recent weather reports shows a strong thunderstorm building up near Shimla. This must be because of that.” “Oh, I see. Thank you.”, Saying so, I went back and joined my friends and shared the news with them, and they were none too happy to receive it. “Great! This means we will have to put up with a heavy snowstorm and even colder temperatures. This is the best thing that could happen to us!”, said one. “I don’t get it; why are you so optimistic about snowstorms and cold temperatures? They seem dreadful things to me!”, chimed in our group’s tubelight. This comment having provided us with substantial talking matter other than the impending apocalypse, our conversation drifted off slowly to other, pleasant matters.
My watch thermometer dipped a further 30 C, as the weather grew colder; and the last kilometer of trek to the camp was highlighted by a light snowfall. It really was beautiful. There was no wind, causing the pretty little snowflakes to fall slower ever so slightly. We could observe their different patterns flitting down, in a stark contrast, to the steely grey evening sky. I had read up a bit about the different shapes of snowflakes, and could identify two of them as needles and plates. It was at this point, that we reached the campsite.
The campsite was a small brick and mortar hut, and about twenty tents affair. The hut served as the kitchen and storeroom. We were then allotted our tents. It was two people per tent. The tents were relatively small, about seven feet by seven feet at its base. After putting all our luggage, there was just enough space for two medium-sized sleeping bags. Me and my friend Aditya mutually chose to be in the same tent. He was as strong as a bull, and I could navigate my way around a strange place, even in the middle of a snowstorm, like an expert. Moreover, I never forget a road which I have travelled, if even only once. So, in the case of a huge snowstorm or an avalanche, he could pick up all our luggage, and I could navigate the way back, making us the most effective escape team in history. This problem having been dealt with, we now moved our attention to more important matters.
The gong sounded and all of us came out of our tents and moved in the direction of the kitchen. The thermometer still registered -60 C, but the snowfall had grown considerably heavier, and there was a moderately strong wind blowing in from the south, making the weather feel even colder. We reached the kitchen, took a packet of food each, and made our way back to the tent.
Once in the tent, we securely closed the flap, and tucked in. In that biting cold, the touch of the hot food packet on our fingers felt like heaven, and when we put the mixture of kidney bean curry and rice in our mouths, it felt as if an angel had come and poured a drop of the same heaven down our throats. After polishing off our meal, both of us slipped into our sleeping bags, turned off the lamp in the tent plunging it into total darkness, and went to sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling uneasy. I checked my watch and it was 2:00 a.m. The wind was literally howling outside, and despite two layers of socks and an inch thick sleeping bag, my feet had almost frozen. And in the middle of the noise, I could hear some faint voices. They were obviously ordering something or someone, but the sound of the wind outside made it impossible for me to discern anything more. I looked to my left and saw Aditya just beginning to stir. I took hold of his shoulders and shook him till he was fully conscious. “What’s happening?”, he asked. He had to shout before his voice was even audible. “I have no idea. Let me look outside.”, I said. I opened the flap of the tent and tried to look out, instantly regretting it. A strong gust of wind and snow blew into the tent, chilling us to our bones. One look at Aditya told me that he too, had understood. This was exactly the situation we had been preparing for.
We quickly rolled our sleeping bags and fastened them to the top of our backpacks. We strapped the backpacks on our shoulders. Aditya picked up two other bags that we had brought along, that carried some extra food and water. We hurried out of the tent, and it took me no more than five seconds to get our bearings and chalk out a path. The door of our tent faced the north, the direction in which we were trekking that evening. The wind was, unfortunately, still blowing from the south, which meant that we must walk right into the face of it, if we were to go back on the trail. I had heard one of our guides speak about an alternate route through the forest, but never having been there, I was not willing to take the risk. The moon was fully hidden and the small kerosene lamp hung in front of the kitchen gave almost no visibility at all. Both of us took out our torches and started swinging it in all directions. The rest of the camp was in chaos. The guides were trying to calm the people who were now running here and there, trying collect their belongings and their families.
Ignoring the pandemonium, me and Aditya pulled up our face masks and swung right into the face of the snowstorm. I spotted a couple of sticks stuck into the ground, marking the erstwhile gates to the camp, and started running towards it, Aditya in tow. Thankfully we were wearing spiked shoes and therefore the chances of slipping in the snow were remote. As we quickly made our way through the snowstorm, I started recognizing a few landmarks that I had noticed on our way here. An oddly shaped boulder to our right and a huge pine tree with someone’s name carved on it to our left gave us much confidence. I had also spotted a big clump of orchid plants and a big bark sticking out of the snow, but these were probably covered with a thick layer of snow right now.
We kept on the trail with full confidence, but a fast-diminishing stock of body warmth and energy. I turned around and reluctantly told Aditya that if we were to prevent ourselves from getting frozen to death, we must take shelter somewhere. Fortunately for us, the wind changed direction and started blowing from the west. Therefore, the mountain on our right effectively blocked off the wind and a lot of the snow. We found a huge rock-face jutting out of the mountain among the pines, and took shelter under it. We did not even have matches to warm us, and had to resort to jogging and beating our hands together to bring the circulation back in them. It was now half-past three in the morning.
After about half an hour of jumping up and down in the relative warmth and shelter of the rock-face, we decided to be on our way. I soon picked up the trail again, and we started moving downwards, towards the road. The wind was still blowing from the west, which allowed us to move faster. As we kept on descending, the rate of snowfall decreased, though the top of the pine trees fully bathed in moonlight now, told me that the wind was just as strong.
As we kept descending, the snowfall kept decreasing, and when we finally reached the tarmac three hours later, there was barely any snow, save some deposited on the tree tops. After all, we were now about two hundred feet below our original position. The sun had just risen and its warmth and the sight which it afforded was nothing short of welcoming. We spotted a flat piece of rock by the side of the road and sat down on it, but not before throwing off our backpacks and removing our snow masks.
We waited for about an hour, but there was no sign of the rest of the party. It was then that we started worrying about our transport to the main camp. Just then, a small truck carrying some potatoes came down the road. We hailed it and asked the driver where he was going and whether he could drop us at Solang valley. The truck driver agreed, and we climbed onto the back of the truck – the front was too small to accommodate all three of us – and lay back on the potatoes and closed our eyes.
We reached our campsite in about two hours and got off. We profusely thanked the driver, paid him something for his troubles, and went into our respective tents. Some time later, we came out and moved into the dining room. There, we waited for the rest of the party to join us. They turned up at around one in the afternoon, looking sicker and more bedraggled than I had imagined.
It had been at least half an hour before the guides were able to round everyone up. Someone had seen us leave and therefore the guides did not bother to wait for us. They took the alternate route, which was much more sheltered and did not have to face the brunt of the snowstorm. When they reached the main road, however, the guides remembered that they had forgotten to intimate the base camp to send the jeeps back up. The jeeps had by now been booked by someone else, and the poor others had to walk all the way back to the campsite.
That evening me and Aditya paid our prices for taking on the snowstorm double-handedly. We were in bed for the next two days with a very strong cold. But, as I always say, whatever happens, happens for the good. And although the experience kept me in bed for two whole days, it gave me an excellent story that I could tell others, just as I am telling you now.
Outro:
So, that is it for today, guys. I really hoped you liked the story. My sincere apologies for not being very consistent with the uploads. I missed last Sunday’s and the one before that because I had my exams going on. Anyway, please follow the blog and stay tuned for more. Until then, arrivederci!