to parashar lake :: © 2004 Rohit Chaudhary

We were in Manali (a hill station in the Indian Himalayas), during the summers of 2004. We didn’t have much of a plan coming into this vacation and it was purely the magic of a few framed pictures hung up on our hotel galleries that pointed us in the direction of Parashar Lake. So we look it up in a map that we were carrying. It didn’t have any distances marked to this place beyond a certain village. But judging by the distance between Kullu and Manali, we took an approximate guess at the distance of the lake from Kullu. And since it was off the highway and seemed isolated, we were quite thrilled about the trip.

We managed to leave on time in the morning. We had the company of two antique Yamaha bikes (RX100 and RXG), not in good shape. At least visibly. And since we were no masters of machinery there was no way of determining if they will last the day. We didn’t have to be concerned for long since one of them broke down, one hour into the drive. Going back all the way to get a new bike seemed like wastage of time. Moreover a local mechanic we fetched from a nearby village said that there was some issue with the sprocket and replacement was the only option (which he didn’t have). We had to move on. We couldn’t let an old piece of junk sabotage our ‘plan’. So we left it in front of a hotel, informed its owner of its untimely demise, and moved on with a single bike.

It was a tough going, with weight of over 180 kgs forced onto one poor bike. After all it was no Harley Davidson or Bullet. The progress was fairly ordinary with usual breaks to click pictures, so much so that we had lost track of time. And by the time we reached the forest office to inquire about a trek we had planned to do in the coming days and chatted with the officials there, we had already wasted the better part of the day. It was almost 2 pm. When we did manage to move on and reach the diversion that branches off from the main highway, a couple of people presented helplessness and blank stares on being asked directions to the lake. This worried us. If we were in fact correct with our estimate of the distances, then it shouldn’t have been too far ahead. The next person we asked plainly suggested we spend the night in Kullu and leave the next day for the lake since there was still some distance to cover.

Against his suggestion we continued our movement. The highway gave way to a bad road, and steep ascents, which meant most of the time our bike would overheat and stop. And then, to top it all, it started raining. What this meant for people like us, who had left thinking they would be back for dinner, was that there were no spare clothes in the bags. A really stupid revelation, when it dawned on them. A couple of kilometres ahead we crossed a village, with minds almost made to stop and take shelter from the rains. But the adamant fools inside us, confident about a lake just around the next corner, continued moving. And the rains got harder, fiercer, to the level that we had to stop. A well situated Forest Rest House was our saviour.

Forest Rest houses officially aren’t allowed to let people in without permission, which needless to say, we didn’t have. But the constant rains forced us to beg the guard to let us stay a night.  The guard, during our dinner conversation, willingly cleared our misconception about the real distance to the lake. An additional 4 hours from the rest house it was!

The next day we were on the road again. To the lake that is. As we left behind one village after the other and crossed valleys after valleys, we were within the last 12 kilometres to the lake. So what was special about this stretch? For one, there seemed to have been a mini battle fought out there on this road. It was all gravel throughout which made navigating through this stretch a nightmare. And second, the forest around was too dark and dense. There was no way both of us could have made it on that bike, on that steep an ascent. So we waited for an hour before setting our eyes on the first vehicle we saw that morning, a small pick-up truck already filled with people. There was space for people but not for a bike. It was decided that I go ahead on the truck and my friend, the better driver between us, was to drive the bike to the lake. So there he was, all alone on the bike for forty five minutes at a speed at which any animal would have easily gobbled him down its throat; the only thought that occupied his brain for most of the time (something that he revealed to me later). But that was to never happen and we were finally there, chilling at the beautiful lake.

We calculated backwards. 2 pm is when we needed to leave for Manali to reach by around 8. So we started our journey back. An hour down and the bike went into reserve mode. Petrol! Why weren’t we thinking of petrol ever! It had to end sometime! A few kilometres max is what we would have gone and some locals passing by informed us of petrol available in cans at a village some distance away. We wouldn’t have made it. Thankfully most of the way was downhill. So bike was switched off and the slope was taken advantage of. But on one of the stretches, the road seemed unending, without any vegetation on the valley side of the mountain, and sloping massively. This intimidated me and while trying to avoid loose gravel the bike skidded. We didn’t break any bones and both of us were still conscious. So we got up and declared everything was alright to the relief of each other. Just then I noticed a pool of red liquid on the ground. Scary enough for us go frantically body searching, again. No trace of any wound. It took us a few minutes to realise that the liquid on the ground was the leaking oil from the bloody tank of the bike. We laughed off the moment and resumed the silent bike journey.

We drove some, we dragged a lot, and we finally got some oil, got a puncture fixed and started our last leg of the journey. It was already 6 pm and dark and the route entered another long patch of thick forest full of noises, mostly a fabrication of our overtly attentive brains. This was the area around the rest house we had spent the last night.  We remembered our talk with the guard about the animals that inhabited these forests, especially bears among others. Now the problem was this: most of the journey in this leg was uphill. That meant excruciatingly slow speed. And since the bike came from an older era, the intensity of the light that came from head lamp was negligible. So we had practically zero visibility in front of us and not a single vehicle had crossed us on this route for hours now. And it was extremely chilly by now, something we weren’t prepared for and possessed only a bed sheet. So this bed sheet was used to cover my friend who was driving now, to shelter us from the chilly winds and I took out the torch I had in the backpack. I kept my hand on his shoulder to aim the torch on the road ahead to add to the dim bike light. And once in a while that torch was used to scout the neighbouring forests of potential dangers lurking out there. And my other hand went into the bag again to search for a dagger that we were carrying and kept it secured in the fist. Just in case! Stupid but understandable given the circumstances we were in.

A couple of hours later, we ended that painful and hair raising journey. But the destination was still far. We were back on the main highway, amid loads of trucks, Volvo buses and human presence, to reach Manali for a late yet safe and warm 10 pm dinner.

We made it back, unharmed, but definitely not as per the schedule. And being out in the wilderness meant no phone calls (absence of network on mobile phones) were possible to our family members either. So it had worried them. A brief scolding session separated us from that lovely dinner.

Triund :: © 2010 Rohit Chaudhary

Triund is like a Friday night. You can very well see what is ahead and you know what you have just left behind. The tingling of a cool weekend to look forward to and the madding week left behind. We all know what that feels like. And Triund feels just like that.

Triund is that more-than-welcome flat bit of land at 2890 metres, and it sure makes you work hard to get there. You can get there only by walking, and just a few shortcuts are allowed. Let me correct myself there, the shortcuts aren’t allowed, they must be looked for, and must be analysed for their eventual benefits. And then you can decide to take them, if you must.

You would encounter a lot of two-way traffic enroute to Triund. Some would politely overtake you, some making a lot of unnecessary noise but not really making any headway and also those that greet you. As on any other journey, these passersby’s make for good conversation topics with your other co-travellers.

To set your sight on the destination can be a good way to beat any Monday-morning-blues you might be facing. A quick but bone-jangling auto ride from Dharamkot might also lessen the number of kilometres you have to walk by one and a half. This auto journey might just be the scariest one ever (valid till they construct a pakka road).

Since a good way to commence a journey is by getting some blessings on your side, you could go and ring some bells at the Galu temple, beyond which no vehicle will be willing to take you. From here on in, you start, on an uphill journey, on foot.

The path either goes flat or up. The flat parts are pretty hard to come by, and hence a considerable amount of time is spent on them: taking breaks, enjoying the view, discussing how much of the trek is left etc. The HPCA stadium is your constant companion throughout the trek, since its recent addition to the Dharamsala geography.

The views are spectacularly plain, cause all you see are the plains. On a lucky day, as was ours, you can catch a glimpse of the Pong Dam reservoir, in the Kangra valley. It is a huge lake that also doubles up as a well known wildlife sanctuary. A few scattered hazy hills can be seen, but they don’t lend any beauty to the landscape at all. Of course, for those with a love for concrete jungles it might be a wonderful view.

If you walk as fast as we did, then within 90 minutes you should be at the halfway point. There are a couple of dhabas, one of which is very famously knows as the Magic view Cafe. The newer one, with a ‘better’ view that looks directly at Triund is called Best View. I leave it to you to make the painful decision between magic or best. This being my 3^rd time at the half way point, and having firsthand experience with both, I chose the latter.  Have some drinks at double the cost of MRP and proceed to walk on.

Further the path is a lot of uphill task. It is continuously tilted at an angle ranging between 15 to 45. Never a 0. This is the part where the shortcuts are appealing, and you must keep out a keen eye for them. And some steady feet. Shortcuts have the known ability to cut your distance, but they also add the gift of danger.

Dhaba at Triund :: © 2010 Sriparna Ghosh

The last stretch takes your breath away, and so does the first view of Triund. They somehow compensate for each other and allow you to become a kid wanting to roll down the meadows. The Indrahar peak stands upto you. And in between the snowy ranges and you is that bit of grassy land called Triund, like a carpet of green, interspersed with tarpaulin blue dhabas. But dont be mistaken; there is a well hidden deep gorge that separates the meadows from the mountain up ahead.

Triund is like a Friday night. You can see the snowy peaks at stones throw and if you just spin at 180 degrees, the plains stare back mundanely at you.

How and what?

Triund is roughly 7 kms away from Dharamkot which lies another 2 kms above from Mcleodgunj, and that is 9 kms from Dharamsala. But people dont start their trek from Dharamsala, and it is only prudent to start from the Dharamkot. Those wanting to cut down further can also start from Galu temple.

Mcleodgunj is connected with Delhi through regular buses. The roadways buses are fairly frequent, while there are 2 deluxe options: TATA AC (Rs 735) and VOLVO (Rs 950). Tickets for the latter can be booked either from ISBT Kashmiri Gate or Himachal Bhawan, Mandi House.

If you prefer trains then you can catch an overnight train to Pathankot, from where there are plenty of vehicular options available.

If you prefer airplanes, you should probably go to Goa.

There is plenty to do at Triund and nothing at all, depending on your choice. You can eat, drink, read, walk, trek further, hang out with sheep,  click photographs, eat, roll on the grass, ride a unicycle (one of the tourists actually did that), sit by the bonfire and gaze at the numerous stars. Or you could just borrow a blanket from the dhaba and laze around indefinitely.

I highly recommend you spend at least one night up there instead of returning to civilisation the same day. It lets you enjoy both the walks and the stay.

Sheepathon :: © 2010 Sriparna Ghosh

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Number of days: 6

Route: Poh(3280 mts.) to Kaza via Dhankar (3640 mts.), Lhalung (3620 mts.), Demul (4234 mts.), Komik (4275 mts.), Langza (4224 mts.).

Reaching the base of the trek: the best option would be to start the trek from Poh, though it can be done the other way round also. Take NH 22 from Shimla to Reckong Peo. Reckong Peo can be the night halt on this route. From there take the SH to Tabo via Yangthang, Nako, Chango, Sumdo and Hoorling. From Tabo, Poh is another 8 kms towards Kaza.

© 2008 :: rohit chaudhary

Day 1- Poh to Dhankar (Oct 8, 2008): Poh was the starting point of our trek (barely half an hour’s drive from Tabo). After spending enough precious time salivating in front of the PWD guest house in Poh for its location and scenic beauty, we began our long walk through Spiti with our 3 local friends (guide, donkey and donkey-man). After walking along the road for a good hour, covering Poh maidan, the climb tilted towards the right along a small bus stop. The ascent took us to Gamchamik (a 2 house hamlet) and further onto Londupdin. We took some time off at this midpoint on the day’s walk, and pampered ourselves with a short nap after lunch and tea. Things were going quite leisurely until we reached Nipti nallah after 30 minutes of walking. The route down into the nullah (ravine) and climb thereafter, were shown to us for a couple of times by the guide but in vain! We couldn’t see any route! With help from the guide we got out of it unscathed though, only to be warned of another more dangerous nullah ahead. And after crossing Paldang meadow, Nurpur village (1 house village), Checham (dry lake), there it was; Kharok nullah. It took some time for the guide to make the route at least crossable. And once we crossed it, there weren’t any more surprises for the day. After passing a Khorumchmik (sweet spring), we were onto the link road to Dhankar monastery (1.5 km to the monastery guest house).

Trekking time for the day: 8 hours

Day 2- Dhankar to Lhalung (Oct 9, 2008): The day began early, not because we had to leave early but for the simple reason that we had no more sleep left in us, considering that in Spiti people go to sleep no later than 10 in the night. So we had ample time to get ready, even more to get done with the breakfast, before setting off on foot at 9.30 am. The day’s trek was supposed to be a leisurely one, welcomed by everyone after a hectic first day’s walk. So we spent a good hour visiting the world famous Dhankar monastery and exploring the old village atop the monastery. Dhankar used to be the capital of the kingdom of Spiti at one point in time, fittingly enough, as its location commands a splendid view of the wide expanse of the valley below. A small part of the old fort is still in place, especially the part where the sentry used to sit to communicate or look out for any message from other posts through the fire torch. The trek, to begin with, was mostly along the Dhankar-Lhalung link road. Though the link road is also an option, the shorter route, a small trail diverting after half an hour’s walk on the road towards right, reaches Lhalung much faster. An hour’s climb on the trail, not a painful one by any means, leads to Chok Chokla, mid-point between Dhankar and Lhalung, where the locals take a break on their trip towards Lhalung. There’s a small pasture land near Chok Chokla called Tharpoley (with 2 uninhabited houses). The last leg of the trek route again falls back on the link road, which lasts for about an hour. This stretch is pretty exciting compared to the much banal initial part. There’s a spring, Chhubu, on the way. The icy cold water was quite refreshing in contrast to the soaring temperatures during the day in lower parts of the valleys across Spiti. Just ahead of the Chhubu spring, the village of Demul (next day night stop), could be seen perched on the top of the mountain across the Lingti valley on the left. It seemed quite improbable that anything, forget about people, could reach that place through what our guide suggested was the route next day! The guide was quick enough to divert our gaze, from the route to Demul (rather than Demul itself), to the Rama village down the valley on the banks of the Lingti river. It wasn’t much of a walk from there before the village of Lhalung was in view.

While in Lhalung, a visit to the monastery is a must. Golden temple, or Sarkhang monastery, overlooking the entire village is considered quite old. It’s said that Losarvar Rinpoche ordered of the construction of 108 monasteries, spread across the world, in a single day. Sarkhang monastery is one of them.

Trekking time for the day: 3 hours

Day 3- Lhalung to Demul (Oct 10, 2008): This day was going to be tough. Our struggle began at 9.20 after a relatively heavy breakfast of aloo paranthas. After almost 90 minutes of level walking, crossing 2 bridges and a 2-3 houses’ village Sanglung, we were there to face it: a steep incline, at places even at 60 degrees disappearing into the sky. The ascent seemed to continue forever. Breaks of a couple of minutes were taken after climbs of equal duration! Even the best of trekking shoes, failed to dispel ominous thoughts of a tiny slip and a disastrous fall into the valley below. We had lunch, hard to remember when. And the walk continued without any respite from the incline. Finally, on spotting a stupa, we thought that was it. Though the stupa marked an entry point into the village, it was more of hardship as reaching our homestay took us another good 20-30 minutes of slogging through the curves and narrow lanes of the village.

Demul is an amazing place to spend an extra day at. Wish we had known this previously. Its amazing location makes it the place of captivating views. Manerang and Kamelang peaks above Lhalung, lesser known peaks above the ridge emerging from Chau Chau Kang Nelda towards the east, and a sea of green rolling pastures above Demul make this an idyll place to lose yourself.

Trekking time for the day: 5 hours

Day 4- Demul to Komik (Oct 11, 2008): The trek began with a visit to the Demul monastery. It’s a relatively newly built one, considering that this village in itself came into existence recently. The village was supposedly shifted from its earlier location, further into the Lingti valley, to the present one due to better land quality here. The guide brought to our notice that the monastery here has paintings of Buddha’s life from birth till death on its walls, which are said to be unique to this monastery. So the trek began around 9.40 and was supposed to be continuously uphill through the meadows of Demul for an hour and half. It took us good two hours to reach the top while battling headache due to high altitude all the way. The top point, Yanglapche, at an altitude of roughly 4600 metres was the highest point on our trek route according to our guide. It’s from here that Chau Chau Kang Nelda is clearly visible. The walk downhill took some more concentrated efforts as the entire walk down the ridge was full of snow and hence, slippery. After this, the path was a good mix of level walk, ascent and descent, with nothing of too much or too less. Finally the route intersected the link road from Demul to Komik. The stretch thereafter is particularly very pretty as the road runs above the Chame pasture land on the left. It is especially considered a safe haven for Bharal or blue sheep. And we did come across a heard of around 12-15 of these pretty animals grazing. Once we crossed the semi circular stretch of the link road covering Chame meadow, the road curves towards right into another valley presenting the first views of the Tanguid monastery (4380 mts.), above the village of Komik. And so began a tussle to reach the village over ‘small humps’ of landmass, seemingly small from a distance but grossly underestimated. After an increasingly irritating “ups and downs” session over these “humps” we finally made it to the fields outside the village and the view of the highest inhabited village in the world was an incredible sight.

Trekking time for the day: 6 hours

Day 5- Komik to Langza (Oct 12, 2008): We had the easiest of days ahead for us. And so the day began with a visit to the Tanguid monastery. Women are not allowed in the prayer room of the old building, though the new one is open to all. New monastery complexes in Spiti stand quite different from the old counterparts. The prayer rooms are huge, huge enough to hold at the least 5o people as opposed to old ones which can accommodate barely a dozen monks, apart from being dark, and a bit claustrophobic for some. So we started on the link road to Langza around 10.30. Most of the walk was on the link road only with slight diversions here and there to cut short the distance further. It took us only 2.5 hours to reach Langza! Langza is a very pretty village. Not as big as Demul in terms of population (we could notice only 8-10 houses) but far prettier in its setting, so much so that it reminded us of Ladakh instantly. We had a good free time at our disposal which was spent splendidly by basking under the sun on the roof of our homestay. Later in the day we paid visit to the stupa here and a newly built Budhha statue (around 40-50 feet high). The location of the Budhha, overlooking the valley at Kaza below and the ranges on the opposite side of the river Spiti, made for a fabulous photography subject and kept us busy for a fairly long time.

Trekking time for the day: 2.5 hours

Day 6- Langza to Kaza (Oct 13, 2008): The route was simple, following the road downwards to Kaza, mostly metalled and unlike the link roads. Nonetheless it was pretty owing to the wide Spiti valley below and the Spiti river itself. The river, broken into a number of parts, meandering through the flat river bed added a magical touch to the route. Just to be more adventurous, we took a small trail off the road, which cuts straight across the mountain, down to Kaza, instead of the road which takes an unlimited number of hair pin bends. The route was unexpectedly treacherous, just like the Nipti nullah on the first day, according to the guide. The week before we arrived in Spiti, this region had witnessed one of worst climactic conditions in last few years. Access roads were closed, very unlikely in summers, for a complete fortnight. Broken and run down routes were all due to this phenomenon. We continued on the path, whatever there was of it, and avoided looking down, thanks to the sheer drop into the valley. When even the donkey refused to budge from one of his positions on “where is the foothold space”, we knew how risky it was. But we had 2 of the best people in this business to help us out. In the end, it was an experience that none of us can forget for a long time to come.

Trekking time for the day: 2.25 hours

To know about warm and welcoming homestays in Spiti, which is the best way to see the valley, follow this link for a story by padmaparna ghosh, who was a part of our trekking team.

© 2008 :: sriparna ghosh

© 2008 :: rohit chaudhary