Someone recently asked me about my one main personal reason to
trek. He said that for him it was the mental piece that trekking up a hill
brought. I said that for me it was the motivation to fill the empty pages of my
travel Moleskine with helpful notes and bizarre nomad tales. But then this
weekend happened. And what has actually driven me to trek regularly all along
revealed itself – somewhere near Kareri village.
Kareri village is a Gaddi
village an hour (22km) out of Dharamshala (by motorable road) featuring vast
fertile lands lush with wheat, icy gushing streams, Sherpas herding sheep, a few huts, about a hundred village folk and
a poultry farm. If one ventures on a 16km trek up the green undulating slopes upward
from this village, one crosses some breath taking meadows and a number of
impressively crafted shelter caves to reach the Dal lake – a pristine lake situated
at a height of 4700m up the Dhauladhars.
Before we get to the weekend’s revelation – my personal
reason to trek – let me get into its contextual setting. 25 of us from Delhi
and Chandigarh set about to trek up to the lake and camp for the night by it,
this Saturday. We parked our tempo traveller by the village, picked up our
tents, sleeping bags, ready to eat and ready to cook food, water and rucksacks,
and began stepping up the trail. However, the sight of the lake was not to be
for 20 out of the 25 trekkers.
The 20 who did not make it, did not suffer any casualties on
the trail – far from that, they lived a gala adventure. From tracking down the
half of the group which initially lost the trail, to trekking almost the entire
way up in heavy rain, to crossing a fiercely heavy stream in the dark, taking
inadvertent ice baths in it and continuing up the trail in the darkness. Finally
again losing the trail, splitting from the group and climbing a 70 degree
incline to pitch tents on a hill at 1:30am and surviving on the insufficient
food and water left with their part of the group. However exertion and a time
constraint got the better of their will to reach the lake the next day.
The five, including me, who meanwhile made it up to the lake
the next morning did it on 4 hours of sleep and empty stomachs – but oh the beauty
of the lake, the meadows and the homey shelters on the way made up for the toll
the two hour climb took on us, and how!
But over the weekend all 25 of us gained something in common,
regardless of reaching the lake or not reaching it, crossing a stream expertly
or slipping into it, managing to lose the trail or not losing it. The common
gain was – a fabulous weekend on the
road less travelled, in its preserved and unexplored trenches, in the company
of people who do not say die when they have to climb a mountain.
And that is, and has always been, the actual reason which
drives me to trek so often.
The unmatched joy of landing a cave in the lap of
nature, previously hit by a select few on the power of their physical and
mental endurance, and clinking mugs of Old Monk with similarly privileged
buddies. I am in love with the echo that our laughter creates in dark valleys
at such heights the prospect of climbing which does not charm every other tourist. The
wait for another weekend of gossiping until the fire dies down at another newly
discovered nature marvel, is too long for me.
In this weekend’s life-sized film, my heroes were: the
debutante trekker in our group who jumped into the middle of the river-crossing
action to help others despite his inexperience, the experienced one who didn’t
let his energy die until the very end despite skipping several meals and
lifting several rucksacks, the ones who kept the smile on and the chatter and jokes
coming even at the prospect of having to continue uphill way past bedtime and
in never-ending rain, the group leader who literally bulldozed an entire tempo
traveller out of damp muddy pits with his one tiny body – instead of resigning
to wait until the wet road becomes motorable again, and then the five of us with
a one track mind focussed on reaching the lake instead of on our own weary
bodies.
Why do we climb up a hill? Just because! And life is too
short to create enough memories on caves and ridges and streams and in forests
with all my “just because” buddies. Which is why I am already up planning my
next one, and so are some of them from what I hear!
