A sojourn in the Himalayas
Pankaj Vasudeva

IMPOSING hills. Exquisite flora. Meandering rivers. It is nature at its best. And to experience this you have to turn to the Himalayas. They are one of the youngest mountain ranges in the world, and true to their reputation, they evoke awe and praise at the same time.

My journey begins from Rishikesh, where the Ganga emerges from the mountains with full might and curls its way down. I board a bus with my friend for an uphill journey, which will take us 274 km away to Govind Ghat.

The ascent is sudden and difficult. The Ganga, known by various names as one goes higher, keeps company right from the start and never deserts. Our first stopover is Devprayag, where the river has been christened after the union of the Bhagirathi with the Alaknanda. At 813 metres, the Himalayas begin to show their enormity. As the bus takes us further, we reach Srinagar, a bustling town spread along the Alaknanda, which expands itself as it finds room at the bottom of the valley. Ascent is as subtle as descent in this area. Thirtyfive kilometres on and we reach Rudraprayag, where the Mandakini and the Alaknanda unite. The Alaknanda becomes violent and aggressive here.

As we enter the heart of the region, Chamoli (960 metres), the Himalayas begin to look even more impressive. Mountains are covered with green shrubs and small plants on the slopes bearing a variety of trees. The journey begins to appear perilous as we pass through Pipalkoti (1,229 metres) and head towards Joshimath (1,890 metres).

We reach Govind Ghat (1,828 metres), but not before crossing some rough terrain and witnessing a raging river all the way. The hamlet serves as a base camp for pilgrims trekking to Hemkunt Sahib. The next destination on our itinerary, Govind Dham or Ghangaria (3,048 metres), is a 13-km trek from Govind Ghat. We embark on the second leg of our journey early and are overwhelmed by a sea of pilgrims heading towards Hemkunt Sahib. We target to reach the Valley of Flowers by afternoon and return to Govind Dham before twilight. The area echoes with the sound of gushing water that flows along the route rich in vegetation.

The ideal time to visit this lavish valley (over 10 km long) is between July-end and mid-September. Flowers of various species (some extremely rare) are in full bloom during this season.

As we enter the forest reserve, we are greeted by some exquisite species of ferns. The narrow trail is laden on both sides with plants bearing multi-coloured flowers — violet, pink and white being prominent. We approach a glacier — a nightmare for any visitor — which has to be crossed to reach the valley. A couple of Army jawans help us cross the treacherous patch but not before we pose for some pictures.

The valley begins to emerge on the right with snow-draped mountains in the backdrop. Sun plays hide-and-seek as clouds embrace the mammoth peaks. We cross the stream to reach the valley. As the sun paces up to disappear behind the mountains,

The anxiety to reach back safely gets the better of us. A few hundred metres more of the trek ushers us to the grave of an English woman, who is believed to have frequented the valley. At this point, our legs give way and we head back to the base, which is another 5 km away.

We wake up late and rush through the morning tasks before setting off on a gruelling climb at 6.30 am. We begin the ascent with vigour but soon realise that the climb is too steep to be attempted at one go, so we pace ourselves, taking breaks and sometimes engaging ourselves in conversation with pilgrims. Hemkunt Sahib stands at 4,329 metres and the incline of over 1,200 metres has to be covered in just 6 km. High peaks and splendid slopes surround the route. A glacier all but passes over the track, since the patch has given way. We carefully cross the stream that emerges from under the glacier and reach the summit in just over three hours. We take a quick dip in the holy lake, which is a bone-chilling experience. The weather is clear but clouds from the southeast rapidly wrap the seven peaks surrounding the shrine. The clouds soon descend and envelop the gurdwara, reducing the visibility rapidly. Drizzle follows, bringing the temperature down further. Draped in raincoats, we take leave and trudge with short steps on a sharp decline. It remains overcast throughout the day and continues to rain incessantly. We reach Govind Dham in over two hours and stop for a cup of tea at a shop.

With little time to spare, we continue our descent amid downpour. It is a fine morning the next day. We pack up and walk to the bus station to head for Badrinath (3,074 metres). It is 30 km from Govind Ghat and one of the four dhams — Gangotri, Yamunotri and Kedarnath being the other three — for Hindus in Uttaranchal. Due to the perpetual fear of rockslides, the highway is open to one-way traffic only. We are treated to some elephantine mountains at a distance as we pass Hanumanchatti, where a Hanuman temple is located.

Badrinath is a peaceful town spread across a wide valley surrounded by impressive mountains. The Saraswati bisects the town into two and it is on its banks that the famous Badrinath temple is located. The temple is adorned with idols of Lord Vishnu and a host of other deities. Thousands of devotees throng the temple during six months for which it remains open. One of the attractions of the temple is tapta kund (hot pool). There are three such pools, which are quite popular among visitors. The water of the pools is believed to have cleansing value. The hot water overflows and falls into the Saraswati.

Our journey takes us further to Mana (3,187 metres), a hamlet with a population of around 300. The 3-km-long road is without troughs and crests and can be covered on foot or by taxi. Mana is the last inhabited area beyond Badrinath. A road under construction leads further to the India-China border. It is a tourist destination with sites like Ganesh Gufa, Vyas Gufa, Bhim Shila and a 150-m-waterfall called Vasudhara.

As we wind up the journey and head home, the fragrance of flowers, the sound of rivers and the reflection of mystic peaks have a psychedelic effect on my mind. The urge to come back into the lap of the Himalayas and experience nature becomes stronger as we hit the plains. The sojourn to the "abode of gods" proves to be not only visually enriching but also spiritually stirring.

Photos by writer