Old Yet Not Aged: Trekking Phulara Ridge in Uttarakhand at 77
A Trek to the Phulara Ridge, Uttarakhand
Suman K Sharma
The approaching summer had revived our itch for the
mountains.
One fine April morning, my friend, Tek Chand, and I
went to the tried-and-tested Youth Hostels Association of India (YHAI) headquarters
at Chankayapuri, New Delhi, to get registered for a trek to the Phulara Ridge
in Uttarakhand. Afterwards, we got a
thorough medical checkup, a mandatory requirement of the venerable organization
and more so to assure ourselves that all was well with our old bones.
Considering our advanced age, we had also to give an undertaking that YHAI
didn’t have any liability if anything ‘untoward’ (read, an injury or worse)
happened to us during the trek. But that
legal formality could wait till we reported at the base-camp, Sankari.
Our immediate
concern was to reach Sankari (altitude: 6,400 ft or 1,950 meters) on the
appointed date. And that too, without any fuss.
Sankari is an important hamlet.
231 km from Dehradun, it serves as the base camp for several popular
treks in the Himalayan region, such as Har ki Doon, Kedar Kantha, the Bali
Pass, and of course the Phulara Ridge.
On the evening of 27 April, we boarded the 5:50 Vande
Bharat Express from New Delhi’s Anand Vihar Station and reached Dehradun at 10:35
the same night. There were no berths to
be had in the waiting room at the station.
So we opted to spend the night in a hotel. An overly helpful auto driver took us to one,
promising that he would report in the morning to take us to the taxi stand for
our onwards journey. “No government bus for
Sankari, or even a private one?” I asked him in disbelief. He mumbled something like ‘aisa hi hai’
and left, but not before giving us his name and contact number lest we should
miss him.
Before setting out for the road on the morning of 28
April, we asked the hotel manager directions for catching a bus. That worthy repeated what the auto-driver had
told us the previous night. Helpfully, though,
he said that we could hire a taxi from the Prince’s Chowk, which was only a
walking distance away. Luck seemed to
smile on us when at the Prince’s Chowk we did find a tempo-traveler heading for
Sankari. It had already eight passengers
and we two fulfilled the driver’s expectation of a full complement of ten for
the journey.
Happily, we handed our bags to the helper and occupied
the rear-most seats. Our fellow
passengers were young – in their early or mid-twenties. A girl sitting across the aisle was talking
to someone on her mobile, “Oh! There are also two ‘proper’ buddhas
(oldies) travelling with us!” She said in a theatrical whisper. Tek Chand’s and
mine tagging had begun – two proper buddhas!
It did not end there. When, more
than 11 hours later, we entered the village Sankari, the brusque driver asked his
helper in a loud voice, “Vo do buddhe kahaan utren ge?” – Where are
those two oldies going to alight?
We knew Sankari was an important place, but had no
idea of how remote it could be. Starting
around 7 AM, our vehicle wended its way from Dehradun through Mussoorie,
Naugaon, Purola and Mori before it reached that village. It was well past 6 in the evening then. The route was breathtakingly scenic and there
were stopovers too for lunch and to ease our limbs. Yet, the journey on that
narrow one-lane meandering road was tiring, if not tiresome. We got a real taste
of traversing a hilly terrain, what with its hairpin bends, landfalls and JCBs
laboriously making way for the stranded traffic.
We found the base camp by the roadside itself. It was a hotel rather than a tent
accommodation, which is the norm with YHAI. Present at the reception was Ms.
Madhumita, who was joined shortly by the Field Director, Mrs. Laxmi Mordekar. The two ladies made us feel comfortable. We were allotted a room on the first
floor. It had an attached bathroom with
the extra luxury of a geyser. The only
problem was of the light, which came and went off like a wayward urchin.
The day’s
journey had exhausted me. All I wanted then was to have my grub and go to sleep. It was in the dining hall I gathered that,
all told, we were nine participants, including a lady. What heartened me was that all of us were rather
old, I being the oldest at 77, and Tek Chand, younger to me by a few years. Others
were barely in their 60s and even younger. We made perfunctory introductions at
dinner and soon after, retired for the night.
It was the whistle for the morning tea that woke us up. April 29 turned out to be a hectic day for us. It began with an invigorating workout under Mrs. Mordekar’s guidance, followed by a bath, breakfast and giving a hearty send-off to the batch which was going for the higher camp that day. The event went off with a full-throated singing of the National Anthem. Then, as those people began to march out, our group cheered them up with the YHAI-style clapping: one-two, one-two-three, one-two….
The Acclimatization Walk
That done, we reassembled for the acclimatization
walk. This part is crucial in any YHAI
trek. It enables the participants to
attune their bodies to the heights they have to climb. It also serves as an occasion for them to interact
with their co-participants. It is during
this walk that a group leader is chosen. along with a couple of other
participants who would be assisting him or her all throughout the trek. More importantly, it is a physical test of
sorts to determine whether or not one is fit enough for the trek.
Mrs. Mordekar led us on the walk. The sylvan surrounds of a Chir forest! Greedily, we filled our lungs with the cool
and refreshing air of the serene surrounds.
Something more was happening. The
nature walk was bringing about a change amongst us. Those of us, who had started off as
strangers, were becoming pally – exchanging smiles and exuding warmth with a
word or two of encouragement every now and then.
After an hour’s walk, we had a stopover on the top of
a hillock. Introductions were made as we
stood in a semi-circle. Mrs. Mordekar introduced
herself as an advocate by profession. The youngish lady from Maharashtra came
out as a devoted YHAI volunteer who does not mind taking time out of her busy schedule
as a working woman every time there is a call from the hills. Of the nine of us, only Tek Chand and I hailed
from Delhi, the rest were from Maharashtra. Two of our team, Mrs. Rajyashri,
who accompanied her husband, and Mr. Paresh Chheda, were the first-time
trekkers. Having chosen Sanjay Karpe as our Group Leader, we began to walk back
to the base camp.
Introductions had brought us closer. Paresh showed a
special liking for me. I too enjoyed
ribbing him. It was during the budding
camaraderie of the group that we learnt how we had been misled in
Dehradun. Buses ply regularly between
Dehradun and Sankari. The auto-driver
and the hotel manager in Dehradun had thought it better to sacrifice truth for
the sake of their understanding with the taxi operators. Tek Chand and I were strangers to them, after
all.
But that perhaps would be judgmental on the general
conduct of the locals, as I realized later.
Nearing the end of our acclimatization walk, we were about to approach
the base camp, when Jai Chand, our guide, pointed to a shrine. It was a well-maintained wooden structure,
empty at that time of the day. Emphasizing
its importance, the man told us that when any Sankari youngster wins a sports championship,
he or she dedicates the trophy to the deity in the shrine, rather than take it
home. For us urbanites that was
amazing. The other incident was minor in
itself, yet of no less significance. As
we were crossing an open space behind a house, an elderly lady, who happened to
be standing there, gave us an affectionate smile as if we were her personal
guests. It then dawned on us that we had
trespassed into her backyard. The locals of Sankari had, without uttering a
word, left on me an indelible impression of their sportsmanship, humility, deep
community feeling and geniality.
We spent the rest of the day preparing for the
ascent. Rain was expected and I didn’t
have any protection against that. Across
the street was a shop that gave trekking accessories on rent – walking sticks,
headlights, shoe-spikes for walking on ice, raincoats, and so forth. I took a poncho on rent for 200 rupees. YHAI itself loans out (without extra charge)
cover-sheets to be used as an inner layer for sleeping bags provided in the
higher camps. Its rucksacks come handy for segregating what is to be taken
along and what is better left at the basecamp for retrieval at the end of the
trek.
There was a detailed briefing in the afternoon about the
trek and safeguards to be taken on the way.
On the downside was the bit of information that there was a heavy
snowfall at the summit. That meant we
would not be able to go across the Phulara Ridge to Pushtara on the other side
of the mountain. After
a delectable dinner and an equally delightful ‘Campfire’ (a burning candle stood
for the real thing), we retired for the night.
April 30. Our
destination for the day was Juda ka Talab (9,500 ft – about 2,900 meters). For that we had to cover a distance of about
7 km and gain a height of 3,100 feet (945 meters). Located in the Govind Wildlife Sanctuary, the
spot has a sacred lake, variously associated with Shiva’s topknot (‘Jooda’ in
Hindi) or with the name of a guru of the Mahabharata Pandavas. It also serves as the base camp for the
Kedarkantha trek. (The YHAI camp is at a
little distance away from the lake). An
interesting feature of the Juda ka Talab lake is a piece of land floating on its
surface. Don’t be surprised if you find
people in their 60s bouncing on this strip like babes on their beds.
So, on completing the morning routine, fortified with
breakfast (and collecting packed-lunch for the mid-day meal as well), with
rucksacks clasped tightly to our backs and carrying walking sticks in our
hands, all the nine of us stood on the road below the base camp, ready for the
march. We sang the National Anthem in
unison and started to go down the road in an orderly manner. As it happened, there was no batch of
trekkers immediately succeeding us. I
missed the YHAI’s customary clapping: one-two, one-two-three, one-two….
Soon enough, the climb became an uphill task;
literally. Lush greenery everywhere, cool
blue skies overhead, breathtaking sights to see – but there was this
unrelenting hill before us to climb. On the way there were one or two brooks as
well. Crystal clear water gurgled from
them invitingly. The problem was the
boulders that lay around them. A wrong step, and one could hurt oneself. We crossed such hurdles with all the care we
could muster, sometimes relying on the guide’s handholding as well. The walking stick – mine was a collapsible
one – proved indispensable. It worked as
an extra limb, and frequently, more than that.
While on a relatively level ground, its strap wrapped round the back of my
hand felt like the reassuring clasp of a companion going all the way.
Though not as regular a trekker as my friend, Tek
Chand is, I have picked up a few essentials of trekking. I go at my pace, take short and easy steps
and I am mindful of the rugged ground beneath my feet. But the craggy terrain can leave even a
regular trekker breathless. In such
moments, which became too frequent with us as we went higher up, Tek Chand was
always at hand for me. I would barely
utter, “Water!” (which sounded like ‘what-a’ even to me), when he readily
retrieved my water bottle stuck in the side-pocket of my rucksack and handed it
to me. I took a sip (not more) and gave
it back to him to thrust it back in its place. A brief pause for my breathing
to get normal and we would be on the trek again.
It was around midday that we heard someone playing
flute. A hundred steps further and we could see a few young trekkers moving in
the direction of the sound. They were on
the way to Kedarkantha. In a while we
could see what it was. The source of our
immediate attraction was an eatery, ‘Bansuri Wale Baba ka dhaba’. Presently, as we reached there, I requested
the flute-player to come out in the open and play a tune for me. Obliging me without any hesitation, the lanky
middle-aged man came out of his eatery and began to play the tune of a
Bollywood song. The group of youngsters headed for Kedarkantha began to place
orders for tea and snacks at his dhaba. And
merrily did the Bansuri Wale Baba play on.
It was getting colder.
I put on a jacket over my shirt. A three-layered clothing comprising a
vest, shirt and jacket proved adequate in that weather. We decided to
unpack our lunch to go with the simmering hot tea of the dhaba. Our energies
replenished with food and drink, and our limbs having rested, we resumed our
trek and were at our higher camp in a couple of hours.
Higher camps are generally the same in this part of
the hills. This one was no
different. The camp leader greeted us warmly
and we were allotted tents for the night’s stay. Soon after, there was hot soup, followed by
tea and crispy pakodas for us – in quick succession. Dinner was served while there was still some
light left in the waning day. And then we were on our own till the dawn.
It was a chilly morning on 1 May. Things went in a jiffy: going through the
morning routine, breakfast, collecting the packed lunch and then setting out
for Bhoj Gadi, the next higher camp at an altitude of 11,150 ft (about 3,400
meters). The distance was 6 km and we
had to gain a height of about 1,700 ft (518 meters). There had been snowfall the previous
night. That meant we had to have extra
protection against cold and be cautious about slippery surfaces caused by the
transparently thin patches of ice on the way.
I added one more layer of clothing over my torso and then I had my poncho
to ward off wetness. My stick guarded me
against falls and I didn’t mind going down on all fours if a situation so demanded.
That part of climb was rather tough but we made it without any untoward
incident.
The following day, May 2, was the longest one for
us. It began with a clear sky in the
morning. After the breakfast, we left
the Bhoj Gadi camp for the Phulara Ridge (altitude: 12,127 ft – about 3,700
meters). The original itinerary was that our team would traverse the ridge to
Pushtara and thence to Taluka. From
Taluka, we were to travel back to the base camp on YHAI-hired transport. But that could not be because of the heavy
snowfall in the region.
Nonetheless, the walk on the ridge, with its exquisite
360 degrees mountain scape, was an adequate compensation in the circumstances. We spent a good hour taking photos and
basking in the ebullience which only mountains can bestow on mortals. Then, the need of the day overweighed our
finer sensibilities. We had to walk all the way back to the Juda ka Talab
camp. And the weather could turn foul
any time like some tetchy oldie. We decided
to retreat.
It was a judicious decision. We were well tucked inside
our tents when a hailstorm broke out in the late afternoon. Hailstones, the
size of marbles, pelleted noisily on our tent walls. It went on for hours, followed by rain. The inclement weather compelled us in the
evening to sit inside the smoke-filled kitchen tent for dinner. That the kitchen staff prepared dinner for us
in such adverse conditions tells a lot about their dedication.
Our guide had taken a route that was different from
the one we had followed. It was a trail
steadily going downwards. I was doing
fine up to this height. But a descent
from a mountain is a different thing.
There is no huffing and puffing of the uphill climbing, yet poor knees may
cry silently in distress. The rain and
snowfall had made the land wet and slippery.
Mercifully, my knees didn’t have any problem, but I had to took extra
care to avoid slippery surfaces. Digging
heals into the wet earth or patches of grass, planting my stick lightly in mud
to boost my morale and avoiding wet stones where I could (stones can be stony
harsh, wet or otherwise) kept me on my feet.
We spent that night at the Juda ka Talab camp and
headed for the base camp on the morning of 3 May. It was a long descent; long enough, I’d say, for
us to admire the rolling grass lands all around us. Children greeted us with their innocent
smiles at one or two places, though their houses were not visible. A man passed by carrying a huge load of freshly
cut grass on his back. There was a large
building, of imposing dimensions, though still under construction. Jai Chand, our guide, told us that this was a
new hotel coming up in the place.
Eventually, we landed on a winding road which took us back to the base
camp.
Our trek came to an end. Up and down, we had covered a distance of
some 46 km over a craggy terrain in a chilly weather. That suffused every one of us with a warm
feeling of good health and endurance. At
a personal level, I congratulated myself on having had the acquaintance of
those cheerful people of on the trek – Mrs. Laxmi Mordekar, the Field Director,
Ms. Madhumita of the Reception Desk, Mr. Sanjay Karpe, the Group Leader, Mr.
Paresh Chheda, who did not let go of any opportunity to engage me in banter,
and, of course, the spirited first-timer Mrs. Rajyashri and her handsome
husband who had the looks and the gait of a man half his age…
We all were old; yet, not aged.
***
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