Eco concerns at Churdhar
Vikrant Parmar
Rough roads often lead to good destinations. Places where nature soothes your soul and silence sings its song. Has anything evaded human incursions though? En route the Churdhar peak, which houses the Chureshwar Mahadev Temple, human presence is marked by mindless scatter amid nature’s bounties.
When, after a bumpy ride the previous evening, our group of four began the climb to the peak in the morning, we took the path less taken. Or, as it seemed mid-way, never taken! It was from a village named Deedag, on the Solan-Haripurdhar road in district Sirmaur, Himachal Pradesh. The traditional route pilgrims take is an 18-km-long winding road through dense deodar forests and alpine meadows from Nauradhar town, 20 km ahead of Deedag.
Churdhar, the highest peak of Shivalik ranges at an altitude of 11,965 feet, made the climb a daunting, yet exhilarating task. Everest of the common man, for sure! From Deedag, after a gradual trek for around an hour, the gradient increased with each step. A series of ridges ahead beckoned as well as threatened. Moving through rich Himalayan flora, each breath inhaled brought in a whiff alien to the city-born. The summer heat made water breaks mandatory and frequent, so the packed resources depleted at a rapid rate. We crossed a few places with names as exotic as the terrain — Baajni Ghodi, Gaaba, Banga Paani, Sattambu Mala and Behrog. The destination was Teesri pass, where the route from Nauradhar joins the one from Deedag. The peak, abode of Lord Shirgul, was a couple of hours ahead.
The only hope after several kilometres of walk were the glacial streams that ferry icy cool water downhill from the Churdhar peak. A rude shock, however, came in the form of a dry nullah, the first we came across during the climb from Deedag. Not a single drop; just chapped stones that once formed the bed of a gushing rivulet. Palpable signs of global warming; lack of snow at the peak and the elixir of life goes missing! Moving ahead, another dried bed presented itself. An animal carcass nearby suggested a battle lost for want of water. Nevertheless, weariness converted into enthusiasm when after almost nine hours the Teesri Pass came into sight.
Having maneuvered a treacherous trek, the sudden influx of people from the gentler Nauradhar route was a pleasing sight. Only just though, till plastic wrappers, bottles and cigarette packets, being flung around at a makeshift eating joint at Teesri, created a disturbance and engendered concern. From there onwards till the peak, focus shifted more to litter at such virgin places, besides lack of measures by the civil authorities. After all, how much does a public dustbin cost?
Having reached the peak a couple of hours later and after paying tributes to Lord Shiva, attention was again victim to the lack of water and utter dearth of amenities for the sea of devotees at the temple. The only ‘dharamshala’ could hardly accommodate the people, some of whom were forced to sleep al fresco. Also missing were a police post and a dispensary, much-needed in such climes where humans are jostling for space and basic facilities.
Return journey the next day was marked by a feeling of satisfaction, yet silent concern.
Fact file
Chandigarh to Nauradhar: 120-125 km (approx)
Trek to the peak: 17-18 km (approx)
Best time to visit: May-November