Trek to Valley of Flowers with GIO - To Hemkund Sahib

First Part : To Auli; Second Part: To Ghangaria; Third Part: To Valley of Flowers; Fourth Part: To Hemkund Sahib; Fifth Part: To Badrinath, Mana and Back

The cavalry regiment was back with a vengeance. Whether it was the forced 'demotion' or the previous day or the fact that the Hemkund Sahib trek was supposed to be far tougher than the previous day's trek, I do not know. It started off with almost everyone deciding to join the cavalry from both groups. Hemant, of the other group, checked with me about my intentions and I told him I intended trekking up (Yes! I do have my insane moments). Hemant was also of the same opinion. He ended up convincing Suhasini and Nikitha to trek up as well. Geeta, the intrepid night-trekker of the previous day, also joined that 'I shall walk up or bust' contingent.

Chandru, still not recovered from the leg issues of the previous day and developing a mild fever to boot, opted out. He refused to ride mules, maybe because of the fact that he had grown up without restraint and, if he bestrode a mule, there would probably be the strange sight of a mule with six legs. So, he stayed back in the camp in solitary splendor. Shanthi, despite a similar fever, was insistent upon making the journey up by mule and, as events panned out, did make it.

The depleted infantry set out at about 6.30 AM with the cavalry to follow around an hour later. Hemant , Suhasini and I were in the lead and, in short order, Hemant was very much in the lead. Just after we crossed the Check-post, a group of Sardars joined us on the trek. One, in particular, took a shine to me, probably because I was nearly 80% of his weight and had this attractive habit of stopping every twenty paces to blow like a bellows, which so endeared me to him. Matching pant for pant, I never noticed when Suhasini too fled ahead to join Hemant nor did he notice that his companions had raced up the trail as though they were on a mountain marathon.

The trail was virtually all ascent with no small declines or flat parts to provide a breather. Up, up and up we climbed or, more to the point, up, gasp, gasp, gasp, up, gasp, gasp, gasp, oh shit, up...we climbed. My new companion was full of advice about how best to climb the trail. Over time I realized that there was a lot more talk about trekking than there was trekking. Three hours down the line, we caught up with his companions waiting for him at a tea-stall. Our man was a man of strategy - he was carrying all their way-eats and water!

It was somewhere around 9.15 AM and, though we could hear the chants from the Gurdwara, the flag of the place seemed far away in the distant horizon. My sardar friend was happily talking of the fact that the Gurdwara would close by about 12.30 PM and, going by the distance and the exemplary pace we had set till then, it seemed unlikely to me that we would hit the place anywhere before 3 PM.

I, rather selfishly, abandoned my companion (not exactly alone, was he now, busily wrapping himself around cookies that he was digging out of his bag in the company of his friends?) and pressed onward. After another twenty minutes of ascent, there was one small blessed stretch of flat track and back it was to the same up, gasp, gasp, gasp, up routine.

The cavalry had passed by me before that tea-stall stop, gaily waving at my toiling self and passing encouraging comments about how I had barely done a fourth of the total distance. Ignoring them with haughty disdain, I had pressed on and I continued to press on, though the haughty disdain seemed to have leaked away through some hole.

Eventually, I reached a place where I found that I could either climb up steps to the Gurdwara or take the long path around. I stopped and considered. Both were inclined upwards, of course (rather tough for the path to incline downwards and yet lead to place some 500 feet higher) with the steps being steeper and, thus, promising to be the shorter route. Since I was panting anyway, it looked like the gasping would happen on either path and the steps promised a lesser period of gasping.

Up the steps I went and, after about 45 minutes of climbing, I staggered into the Hemkund Sahib at 11.30 AM. Almost immediately, I was partaking of the delicious Khichdi and tea that was being offered to all comers. Revived, I went to the serene Gurdwara and soaked in the ambience.

The Hemkund is such a beautiful serene lake that it is no wonder that this place was chosen for the contemplation of the divine. Dipping the feet in the ice-cold waters of the lake was such an invigorating experience. People who know my penchant for jumping into Himalayan lakes would be surprised by the fact that I did not venture into this lovely lake. The problem is that I am wary of dipping in ice-cold lakes when the sky is overcast and a breeze is blowing. Hypothermia lies that way. (No matter what you think, I am not exactly insane).

After an hour or so at the Hemkund Sahib, we started on our return. I decided to take the long path down this time. Just as we started, Geeta and Nikitha - the last of the infantry - reached the place. Leaving them to enjoy the place, we started down. The view of the flower-laden mountainside, with a profusion of the rare Brahma Kamal, made it a wise decision for me, since this was not visible from the steps.

The Brahma Kamal was not in bloom, but the buds were lovely to view. We stopped on our way down to have lunch at a tea-stall, the GIO Adventures guys - Yashpal, Hari and Mahaveer - having lugged the lunch for us, as usual. After lunch, I rushed down back to the camp, since the sun was out by now and I had an aversion to getting dehydrated. (Yes - the sweating is not something that creates a problem only for you).

Of course the day did not end without further drama. Geeta and Nikitha had not come back to camp by sunset. After the previous day's experience, though, we were sort of blase about it, only pausing to comment about the foolhardiness of Nikitha in trekking along with Geeta, knowing the latter's penchant for night-trekking. The ever-suffering Yashpal was with them and, as expected, the trio landed at the camp about the time for dinner.

That was about the end of the trek, though we still had to trek back to Govindghat the next day. If weather permitted, we intended visiting Badrinath and Mana before reaching the Auli Guesthouse at night.

The mountains decided that the three days of good weather had left us feeling that things were as predictable as in our homes. It was time to show that taking things for granted does not work on the mountains.

But that is the tale of the next day.

Pics: Nikitha

Trek to Valley of Flowers with GIO - To Valley of Flowers

First Part : To Auli; Second Part: To Ghangaria; Third Part: To Valley of Flowers; Fourth Part: To Hemkund Sahib; Fifth Part: To Badrinath, Mana and Back

The cavalry regiment suffered a major setback today. No mules were permitted on the route to Valley of Flowers. The horse-warriors had to, perforce, descend ignominiously to the ground and trudge along with the infantry or had the choice of riding the back of people sitting crunched up in baskets, which were called pittus if I got the word right. Well - actually, the back of the basket is cut open so you do not actually feel like a sack of potatoes, but still...

Anyway, except for a child from the other group - comprising of three Nagpur families and a Delhi couple (Hemant and Suhasini) - all of us decided to trek to the Valley of Flowers. We crossed Ghangaria, which was half a kilometer beyond the campsite and went on for about another kilometer till we hit the check-post at a fork in the road. THAT was apparently where we had to register if we were trekking straight on towards Hemkund Sahib. The route to the Valley of Flowers was on the left fork and there was another check-post further down, where we registered and set off to cover the three further kilometers to our destination.

You know how it goes - the guide says it is easy, you think you will float along admiring the scenery, and you find that it is as usual a lung-buster. As trails go, this was not too tough actually. It was in the mountains, after all, and one hardly expects to be walking on flat terrain. The weather was great - slightly overcast, thus cool enough not to enervate you, but no rains. It is just that, being accustomed to city-dwelling, the slightest hint of an incline sets you huffing and puffing. (And so, if you are already tired with my walking travails, take a break and look on the video of the valley of flowers from the depths of your armchair. IF it opens that is. I am both video-challenged and tech-challenged)

At the entrance of the Valley, in a shaded place are a lot of convenient rocks to sit upon or sprawl upon as the mood takes you. Chandru, having acquired a cramp in his quadriceps for his pains, sprawled. I walked on through the valley, instead of sitting around and waiting for the rest of our company to join us.

Flowers, someone said, are nature's smiles. Whether that was poetic fancy or true, I wouldn't know, but that walk did fill me with unknown joy. Shy smiles, these flowers of the Valley were, not the bright come-hithers of the roses and the lotuses and, yet, how they beguiled.



You lift your eyes and the wide vistas that open entrance you. In the mountains, people have claimed that they felt small. Somehow, it has never struck me that way. My CONCERNS seemed much smaller, certainly, but the more important thing was the feeling of exaltation and being a part of something so noble, so wonderful. Well, of course, if I did not feel happy there why would I keep going back? After all, everyone who knows me knows that I am the escapist upon which the entire species of escapists were modeled.





The pleasure of these visits lay not only in looking on these places on a 'landscape' basis. There is so much beauty if you stop to take it in - a shy flower, an oddly shaped stone, a lovely bird...Nature graces both the minute and the vast and, if you have the eyes, you could spend an eternity, entranced in the Valley of Flowers.



One of the attractions of GIO Adventures' arrangements for me was that the guides carried along the lunch for the entire group and served it at the specific spot for lunch. Today, of course, it was at the Valley of Flowers. In the normal course, the lunch packs are distributed to the trekkers and, so, you had to lug it up and then eat it. Not too onerous, one may say, except that someone like me ends up spilling more than he eats when he tries to manage a lunch pack while squatting on uneven ground.

We met an interesting couple while relaxing at the Valley. The girl was carrying a small bouquet of flowers culled from the valley. The guy told us that he had been wooing her and proposing to her in all such interesting places but was yet to get her assent. Poor chap! Maybe she so loved the way he was wooing her that she wanted to prolong the experience for as long as she could.

Chandru and I started off early, since he wanted to get back to camp and care for his cramped legs. En route, we sat quietly by the Pushpavati river. Lulled by the rushing flow, captivated by the 'ever-moving, yet ever in the same place' nature of the river, I was startled out of my reverie when Chandru called me to proceed onward.

Later in the evening there was much drama. Geeta and Chandra had not come back. It was night and there was a power-cut, leaving the area pitch-dark. (Alas! THAT power-cut put paid to the hot water bath, I was looking forward to but that is another tale of woe). Yashpal was with them, of course, so the anxiety level was lesser though still palpable. Mahaveer rushed back with torches.

There was a sigh of relief when they landed back at the camp followed by outrage when we heard that, while we were busily biting out nails to the quick, they had calmly parked themselves in Ghangaria gorging on gulab-jamuns!

Well - a 4 Km trek had proved a lot more testing than people had bargained for and Hemkund Sahib was, by all accounts, an unrelenting ascent for about 7 Kms. But that was for the next day.

Video: Chandru
Pics  : Jaya

Trek to Valley of Flowers with GIO - To Ghangaria

First Part : To Auli; Second Part: To Ghangaria; Third Part: To Valley of Flowers; Fourth Part: To Hemkund Sahib; Fifth Part: To Badrinath, Mana and Back

There may be those intrepid trekkers, who disdain to travel by vehicles when they could walk; beings who could walk all day, arrive at the camp at 6 PM and bemoan the fact that the day's trek was too short to challenge them. I would have called them mythical beings, but for the fact that I have had the misfortune to trek along with a few of them. All I can say about the experience is that, at the end of it, I heartily wished that they had truly been only mythical beings.

Be that as it may, the reader of these chronicles knows full well that I do not belong to that ilk. if anything, he/she is faintly surprised that I bother to trek at all. So, after the comfortable night at the Himalayan Ecolodges rest house at Auli and the drive to Govindghat, when Yashpal suggested that there was an option to travel the first three kilometers by shared taxi instead of trekking, the reader would not be surprised to hear that I was the first to jump at the suggestion. The only surprise there would be the fact that I did not choose to travel all the way to Ghangaria by mule...but, then, that is only because my feet are less tender than my...err...backside, shall we say? Incidentally, the shared taxi option got unanimous consent and, seeing the unrelieved steep ascent when we actually did travel, we were quite pleased with the decision. Toiling up that road in the sun, with vehicles spewing exhaust and dust on me, was not my idea of fun, no matter what the intrepid trekkers may have to say about the matter.

Did I forget to mention that, at Rishikesh, there was a biometric registration and that we were given biometric cards? I suppose I did, just as I forgot to carry them on my person and packed them away, causing some small ruckus as we drove up in the taxi. I was not the only one, though. Anyway, I found that the government does move swiftly at times as it had done in the aftermath of the Uttaranchal disaster to ensure that tourists are tracked on their trips to the mountains.

Anyway, once we reached Pulla (if I have got the name of the village right), we had a eleven kilometer trek in prospect. Yashpal assured us that it was an easy trek - a bit up and down but fairly even till the last stretch where there would be a climb of some three kilometers. Having been to the mountains fairly often, I knew that what, to the guide, is a walk in the park normally turns out to be a lung-breaker for the ordinary trekker (which does not include those intrepid ones I talked of earlier) much like what, to a mountain goat, is a level plain is a slippery slope to oblivion to you.

At Pulla, what was supposed to be only infantry acquired a cavalry regiment. Chandra and Poornima (or was it Renuka, the other of the co-sisters?) decided to ride mules, while the rest of us walked. Indeed, all through the route, you found the muleteers tempting toiling trekkers with the option of comfortably (comfortably? Egads! My fundament complains) riding mules to their destination and, as it happened, our cavalry grew in strength at the cost of the infantry as the day's trek progressed.

Just as we exited the village, we found ourselves walking by the side of the beautiful Pushpavati river. There is something about the muted roar of a river running over rocks that is very soothing to the human soul. Feasting your eyes on the vistas ahead of you, with the music of the river filling your ears, is one of the pleasures that keep dragging me back to the mountains.

Onward we trekked and, as is the case with us, seeking to know how much farther the destination was, once every half-hour, in the wistful hope that our dragging steps had covered the eleven kilometer distance so fast that we would find it around the next corner. By the time we hit the lunch spot, we were, shall we understate, just about ready for lunch. Poornima (or was it Renuka?) had, meanwhile, apparently galloped on to the destination causing a bit of worry for her co-sister but all was well since it ended well.

Around the time when Chandru and I were getting ready to give up, we hit a plain road with the camp in sight. The late additions to the cavalry regiment - Lalitha and Lekha - met us with the welcome news that it really WAS our campsite that we were seeing. (Do not be mislead into thinking that the trek, itself, was too tough. By the standards of even the non-intrepid ones it was a moderate day of trekking. It is just that we guys had hit an age where definitions of easy, moderate and tough have changed drastically for the worse)

AND - what a camp! Running water and power! Tents where you could stand upright; beds...yes BEDS! An attached bath tent with a western closet. Hot water on call! A huge dining tent. Sybaritic...that's the word I am looking for. There were hotels in cities where I have had far worse experiences than this campsite in the middle of nowhere (Well - not exactly the middle of nowhere but a little exaggeration never hurt anyone!) The GIO Adventures guys had even provided towels and soap!

 Well, if you see more pics of the campsite than of the views here, do not blame me. After all, on every trek I see these vistas and, much though I love them and like to revisit them, they are not novelties. But a camp like this? Where I did not have to crawl in, scrunching my not so slim belly every time I had to put on my shoes? Where I did not have to go bottle in hand hunting for a safely hidden spot and do the long forgotten full-squats? Where I could actually bathe in hot water and avoid smelling my own sweat (THAT though was more a matter for Chandru to be happy about. I still remember a tent-mate in a long ago trek spending every evening of the trek hunting for the dead rat that he was sure was somewhere in the tent.)

I am sure that, by now, you must have sort of got the impression that this campsite and these tenting arrangements were not really the norm for treks. Not even for GIO treks everywhere, I am sure. You can organize all this only where you have a permanent campsite and not when you erect campsites as you go. Still, this was an experience that I would not have wanted to miss. After all, one of my dreams has always been to enjoy the solitude and beauty of the mountains without sacrificing too much of my bodily comforts.

The food lived up to the rest of the arrangements. So, after a good meal and a small walk to take in the beauty of the surroundings, we went to sleep.

The next day we would trek to the Valley of Flowers.

Pics : Chandru

Trek to Valley of Flowers with GIO - To Auli

First Part : To Auli; Second Part: To Ghangaria; Third Part: To Valley of Flowers; Fourth Part: To Hemkund Sahib; Fifth Part: To Badrinath, Mana and Back

Deja vu! There we were, Chandru and I, hair in a braid (Of course, only metaphorically. What did you think? That I had started using obscure herbs culled from the Amazon basin?), waiting in Haridwar to be picked up by the vehicle that would take us onward to the trek in the Valley of Flowers. Once again. Except that this one was a sponsored trek - sponsored by GIO Adventures.

Being monuments of patience, when we heard that the vehicle would be picking up the other members of the group from the hotel some 50 meters from where we were staying, we decided to traipse down to that hotel and not wait for the tempo track to come over for us. So, off we trudged to the Great Ananda and saw the vehicle being duly loaded with luggage.

Out walked some ten women, fifty-plus years young all of them if you leave out the twenty something Nikita. One look at me and, with a visible up and down movement of their throats, they swallowed their dismay (wo)manfully (Never fathomed this. I mean, I can sort of understand that dismayed reaction after people know me from before, but how is it I affect them thus at first sight? Must be pheromones or something). Geeta even went so far as to welcome the addition of 'manpower' to the group. Chandru and I felt much like we had gatecrashed a kitty party - though, I must say, Chandru carried it off with such aplomb that one could be forgiven for thinking that it was his profession to gate crash thus.

Consider that the day's journey was about twelve hours from Hardiwar to Auli. Consider that my stomach churns almost the moment I get into any vehicle that travels by road. Consider that I sing non-stop all the way in order to ensure that nothing more noxious emits from my mouth. Consider that there is a wide variance of opinion between me and those who hear me about which is the more noxious emission - my singing or the contents of my stomach. Now, consider the plight of these hapless ten women for those twelve hours. (I do not mention Chandru - he has traveled with me often enough to have developed a selective deafness to my singing.)

The route to Auli, needless to say, is extremely scenic. For the most part, we traveled along the Alaknanda. Along the route we cross all the major confluences of rivers that end up making the mighty Ganga. At Deva Prayag, the Bhagirathi and the Alaknanda merge to form the Ganga. At Rudra Prayag, the Mandakini joins the Alaknanda. At Karna Prayag, it is Pindar that enriches the Alaknanda with its waters. Nanda Prayag is where the Nandakini weds the Alaknanda. At Vishnu Prayag, the Dhauli Ganga meets the Alaknanda.

We saw the first four confluences on the trip to Auli. En route, we also cross Srinagar, the place where Chandru and I were stranded when the Uttaranchal disaster struck. How quiet the Alaknanda seemed this time compared to the raging monster that we gazed on with awe for three days then. All through the route, were remnants of the devastation caused to the area then.

The trip was enlivened by the uncanny ability of Jaya to blink just as we passed some major spot - like say the Deva Prayag - and then rue having missed seeing it. Whether Jaya actually did blink or no one cannot say, but Shanthi claimed that she did and, as is usual, we chose to believe the worst.

It was dark and raining by the time we reached the GIO rest-house at Auli. The first sight was of those lovely, large roses. Yashpal, Hari and the chap who had traveled with the other group of twelve - Mahaveer - welcomed us to this beautiful haven. The place was so comfortable that Chandru and I wanted to know if it was available only when we booked on treks or if we could book in and stay for trips as well. As it happened they were available for bookings otherwise as well, since the Himalayan lodges, though they were a part of GIO Adventures and supported them, operated as a separate entity offering stay in offbeat destinations.

After a tiring day, sumptuous food and extremely comfortable rooms to sleep in were Heaven. The pitter-patter of rain all night, though, was a concern.

The next day dawned, not exactly bright and sunny since it was a watery sun that did its best to shine through the clouds but it was much better than the pouring rain that we had feared to see. Other people had more vexing concerns, though. Apparently, Geeta had woken up at 4 AM and started singing all the songs that I had 'sung' on the journey - probably to ensure that I had not driven away the proper tunes from her mind and replaced them with my own version. THIS was the first time that my singing affected my companions far beyond the time for which I sang myself!

Off we went on the trusty tempo track, seeing the Vishnu Prayag en route (except Jaya, of course, who blinked again if you chose to believe Shanthi) and landed at Govindghat. From this point, or roughly from thereon, the trek was supposed to start. By the end of the day we would be in the GIO tents at Ghangaria.

Next Part - here

P.S : Apologies about the lack of pics. Lighting issues, according to Chandru (ME - I can take pics of unrelieved gray in the best of lighting, so I would not know)

P.P.S: Pic added of group. Courtesy Geetha