by GAURAV PUNJ
Duryodhana
Just ahead of Mori is the village of Hanol and there resides Mahasu Devta, the reigning deity of the entire region. Duryodhana, after his travels far and wide in the Himalaya, came upon this region and fell in love with its beauty. He requested Mahasu Devta to give him the Bawar region and promised he would take good care of the people there. Mahasu Devta agreed and so Duryodhana ruled here for years. People loved him, and still do. There are temples to Duryodhana in almost every village, but the deity is kept at the main temple at Jakhol only, from where it’s taken to each village. He is the final authority on any dispute and through a human medium (called maali) his spirit visits these temples and speaks to the villagers. (Similar practices are found in almost all higher Himalayan regions.)
He was considered an expert in irrigation science and the sophisticated irrigation system used in these regions seems to bear testimony to this.
And finally we were on the last day of the trek and climbed down into the Supin valley and soon came across cultivation and other assorted signs of civilization. The villagers we met all knew our guides, in fact some of the staff were from these villages, and they excitedly exchanged news from the Rupin and Supin valleys. We descended into a big village called Pithari, equally old looking as Birthi and with equally good-looking women. As we all assembled in the village courtyard and were surrounded by the amused villagers, we were reminded of the reach of Hindi movies; a very pretty two-year-old girl was named Kareena, they all knew Mumbai was where the stars live and readily accepted our invitation to come and visit it. They don’t even have electricity – how and where do they watch movies?
We soon bid goodbye to the villagers and continued our downhill trek towards the road. As I have often observed, the last day of the trek tells a great deal about who has enjoyed the trek and who hasn’t. The laggards of the group suddenly find their second or third wind and rush ahead, whereas some have to be literally coaxed into taking the next step as they longingly look back towards the trail.
The sight of cars waiting for you at the trek end point and the subsequent ride, however bumpy it might be, is heavenly and the feeling nothing short of the exhilaration of reaching a campsite after a hard day’s walk as I described earlier. Trekking in the wild, away from civilization, living without the ‘essentials’, altering the definition of personal hygiene, all for days on end, wouldn’t be half as much fun and thrilling if there isn’t the comforting thought of the car waiting at the endpoint to take you back to a bed, a bath, connectivity and eventually home. A quick group photo with the trekking staff, expression of gratitude through thanks and tips, promises to send them photos, and we were off to Mori by the river Tons. Trek endings are dramatically quick and so different from the starts.
Each one of the twelve of us in the group will probably describe it differently, and that’s the beauty of trekking, the accumulated experiences, sights and thoughts are unique for everyone. For me, it was the thrill of trekking in a region with a unique culture, people and history, the experience of witnessing (and participating perhaps) in a full-blown Himalayan storm, the subsequent altering of plans and the luck by chance passage through the meadows. As always, Himalaya gives back much more than it takes.
***
Raju, the Guide
Short mein bole toh, when trekking in Rupin Supin region, surprises come thick and fast.
More reading
Hardly any books exist in the ‘easily available’ category for the Jaunsar-Bawar region. There are some academic books on tribal ethnography and anthropology that cover this region.
Title
Category
Author
Remarks
Temples of Garhwal & Other Landmarks (1994)
Culture
Rathin Mitra
A coffee table book, it covers the temples in the Rupin-Supin region in detail.
The Abode of Mahashiva: Cults and Symbology in Jaunsar-Bawar in the Mid Himalayas (1995)
Culture/ Academic
Madhu Jain
A study of cults and symbology in this region.
What else to do in the Rupin Supin region
Trekking – So many treks, but I will list one option each for all trek grades:
Easy – Kedar Kantha meadows is an easy two-day climb from Sankhri. In April, there will be snow on the higher reaches and later in summer the meadows will be full of flowers.
Medium – Try the Changsheel meadows trek for an ultimate meadow experience. You can either take a circuitry route and come back or continue straight and get out from the Rohru side of Himachal. The trek will take you about four to five days.
Medium-hard – The trek to Bharadsar Lake is a five- to six-day trek, with the toughest portions being the climb to Bharadsar and down. Also try and cover the mystical Vishkhopri meadow on this trek if possible.
River rafting – The Tons is a very kind river and lets you ride its rapids with ease. There are plenty of campsites in Mori which are set up during the summer months to do exactly that. They are a great place to chill too.
Temple trail – Go for a temple trail around Jaunsar-Bawar, starting from the Mahasu Devta temple in Hanol (all visits to this region must begin from here), to the Karna temple in Deora and finally to the Duryodhana temple in Jakhol.
Point to be noted
This is a great region for a holiday with the added thrill of river rafting, camping and history with its most interesting twists. From Mussoorie, it takes five to six hours to get to Mori, and making it as your base you can either trek around or just explore the area. Don’t miss the excavated site at Lakhmandal (supposedly the site of the Lakshya griha incident from the Mahabharata) on the way to Mori from Mussoorie.
Local service providers
HMPA (Har-Ki-Dun Mountaineering and Protection Agency) is the name of the group formed by local guides and porters and – it goes without saying – should be the first preference for trekking in the entire region. They also organize climbing expeditions for those interested. www.harkidun.org.
Mori has the best boarding facilities in the entire region. They are all seasonal river camps along the Tons, operational mostly from April to June. Just google ‘Mori camps’ for details and contact information. No preferences.
Story 6
The Mountain of the Elusive
Goddess - Nanda Devi
Hand-drawn maps for representation purpose only. Not to scale.
The setting
Uttarakhand, that is Garhwal + Kumaun, has one of the most vibrant histories of any Indian Himalayan state. Even a summary is beyond the scope of this book. But what you should know is that it was all Kumaun to begin with before the British carved out Garhwal from it, and for reasons political and unknown, they don’t like each other much. Even today, one of the biggest gaffes you can make is mistaking a Garhwali for a Kumauni or vice versa. If by any chance we have a Kumauni driver and we are driving in Garhwal, he will most likely tell the locals he is from Garhwal to avoid any issues.
But there is one thing which unites them, and that is the second highest mountain in India, the Nanda Devi, bang in the middle of Garhwal and Kumaun, and the residing Goddess of that mountain, whom both worship and fear. The Garhwalis stake their superiority on the Nanda Jat yatra that passes through it every twelve years (most interesting pilgrimage in the world, google it). The Kumaunis, not to be left behind, will tell anyone who will listen that the Nanda Devi east peak (it falls completely in Kumaun) is the real home of the Devi on account of its truer dome shape.
The Nanda Devi sanctuary
In central Uttarakhand, on the Garhwal-Kumaun border, lies the Na
nda Devi sanctuary/national park. In the centre of the sanctuary are the twin peaks of Nanda Devi, at 7800m the second highest in India (after Kangchendzonga), the undisputed Goddess of most of Garhwal and Kumaun (it can be seen from most of the villages, you see), and the mythological home of Parvati, Shiva’s consort. The sanctuary itself is divided into inner and outer areas and comprises countless peaks (all above 6000m) surrounding the Nanda Devi and forming almost two impenetrable rings around her. I say almost, because nothing is absolute, we humans don’t like nature keeping anything from us and will go to any limits to ‘claim’ what we feel is our right. And so, explorers struggled and struggled for years to enter the Nanda Devi sanctuary, then described as one of the last self-sustained biospheres left on earth, until in 1934, two really persistent ones, Tilman and Shipton, managed to enter the inner sanctuary via the only opening possible, the gorge formed by the Rishi Ganga.
They of course would never have imagined that their exploits (accomplished with a pure spirit of exploration) would lead to a mindless race amongst the rest to enter and see with their own eyes what a self-sustaining ecosphere looks like, paradoxically destroying the very nature of the sanctuary, cutting trees and hunting the tame bharal and other species to sustain their huge expeditions. Such was the greed that, in a matter of a few decades, almost all was lost and the biosphere could barely be recognized. I say almost, because nothing is completely destroyed, nature holds on with all its tenacity and bounces back at the first given opportunity. That opportunity came when the government, under tremendous pressure from conservationists, and perhaps after unsuccessfully dabbling with nuclear spying devices in the Cold War era (google this interesting bit too), shut down the entire sanctuary and so it remains, till date.
Before moving on, I want to share a very interesting observation about the sanctuary, which I first read in the superb The Nanda Devi Affair by Bill Aitken. Supporting the already well-entrenched legend that Nanda Devi is home to Parvati, is the satellite image of the sanctuary. The mountains surrounding Nanda Devi form a shape very similar to the Om symbol, and taking it one step ahead, the Kailash mountain in Tibet occupies the place of the chandrabindu above the Om. Hmmm, it’s all very interesting and just adds to the very complex iconography and significance of this mountain in particular and the sanctuary in general.
The stage
Johar valley, with the Gori Ganga flowing through it, is on the east of the Nanda Devi sanctuary in Kumaun and must surely count as the valley with the most interesting and tragic story in the Himalaya. At one time it was the main trade route between India and Tibet and the locals here had much more in common with the Tibetans across the mountain range than with those down the valley in India. In fact, natives from this valley were hired by the British in one of the longest and most daring spy operations ever (again, just google ‘pundits of Johar valley’ for some fascinating information). They were rich and prosperous from trade and also from agriculture. But as it happened with pretty much the entire stretch of the border between India and Tibet, the Indo-China war changed their lives forever, cruelly so. With trade closed, the proud Joharis had no option but to move down the valley and strive hard for bare existence. The villages were abandoned, farms left untended and within no time a civilization was uprooted.
So here we were in 2009, in Johar valley, in the district headquarters of Munsiyari, a village from which you get better views of the Panch Chuli peaks than even from their base camp. And if you are really lucky, you will be able to see a storm raging on the peaks obscuring them and then revealing them in brilliant glorious sunshine, within half an hour. All this before you have even had your breakfast. Munsiyari is rightly becoming a go-to destination amongst the off-beat places in Kumaun, and with careful development of sustainable tourism (as in, without disturbing the way of life but only adding to it), has huge potential.
Anyway, we are here because it’s the last big village before the trek to the abandoned village of Martoli and the east base camp of Nanda Devi. There are permissions to be gathered from the local administration and the ITBP, both of whom insist they are not required but continue with the system anyway. This is also the place where we meet our trekking team and they in turn get all their supplies, load the mules, and so on. There is the usual hustle and bustle that all trek start points have.
The cast
Ganesh, the guide, who made the mistake of wearing tight jeans, Vinod, the cook, and an aspiring stage actor and singer, women at Martoli, and our group of twelve, going for the longest trek we have ever been on (and most of us had never been on any).
The act: A never-ending day and the veil of
the Goddess
‘Is there a trek which just goes downhill like this all the way?’ asked Nikhil, rather wishfully, as we started the trek from Darkot by rapidly descending through the village. I smiled ruefully, my eyes seeing the enthusiasm with which so many of the group were walking down, but my mind calculating the effort and pain with which we will all be climbing this very stretch at the end of the trek in nine days. I admonished myself for thinking so far ahead, especially when the thoughts were not very nice. The verdict is still out on what is better: an easy downhill start and a subsequent uphill end to a trek or vice versa. I guess when you are on a particular trail, sweating and all, you will always find the other option better.
After a relatively incident-free walk – unless you count me losing my brand new sunglasses in the very first hour of a nine-day trek, Namita going through the day one blues and insisting her husband send a helicopter to rescue her, and us having to walk, one at a time, straight through a waterfall – we reached the erstwhile campsite at Rairgarhi that is now a site for a hydel project on the Gori Ganga. Like on so many treks in the Himalaya these days, the day one campsite here too was taken over by a ramshackle shanty where the workers stay, eat, do their ablutions, etc. Not a very pretty sight, but a pretty site nevertheless. The group was in high spirits however and we decided to sleep indoors, on charpoys inside a tin shelter, instead of pitching tents. They provided warm blankets and everyone was happy with the prospect of fun times with all of us in the same room chatting. The fun times lasted for less than ten minutes before everyone dozed off.
‘Okay, so we have discussed this before, but just to reiterate, today is a long walk of 16 km to Rilkot, and unlike yesterday, you will all struggle, so be mentally prepared,’ I delivered the ‘thought for the day’ during breakfast. But somehow I had a feeling that between the chomping of paranthas and slurping of tea, the words didn’t quite reach the wool-covered ears. Earlier as well, during our pre-trek meeting, there hadn’t been many takers for my logic of how a day with uphill and downhill walks in succession is more taxing than a purely uphill walk. Day 2 was going to be that kind of day.
Anyhow, we managed to leave the campsite at a good time, around 6:30 a.m., and started at a brisk pace – perhaps people were concerned about the long day after all. The bridge from awareness to action was yet to be crossed, however.
The Gori Ganga was in rage, flowing down at such a steep gradient with such speed that the noise of water crashing against rocks was deafening. The trail climbed along the right bank of the river and the sound and fury of water along with the strong morning sun sapped us pretty fast. After a couple of hours we reached Bogdyar, another small settlement and also a big ITBP camp. We had to show our permits and write down our names in their register, a break we all welcomed. One usually finds a soldier from their part of the country and such meetings with the army are always congenial and a showcase of regional bonding.
The group had automatically divided itself into three sub-groups based on walking speeds, and by mid-day they were spread well apart. Vinod was with the ones ahead, Ganesh at the very end and I kept myself strategically (yeah, right) placed in the middle so I could keep an eye on everyone. Before I tell you that I kind of failed in that mission, let me say that I did try, valiantly. Okay, so that’s
settled.
I always tell my groups before the trek starts that there are absolutely no issues in being slower than others and being the last one to finish a walk; in fact, that just means you have spent more time on the trail than others and will appreciate the beauty more. But that’s easier said than understood. So here’s a small attempt at recreating the second day’s walk from the point of view of the last ones in our group, Somna and Anuradha.
The perspective from the backbench
‘These damn shoes hurt, and they are so heavy, and I spent five grand on them.’ One of them – doesn’t matter who – thought to herself. (All their conversations are with themselves, it’s too tiring to speak, okay?) ‘So, I have walked for two hours and as per GP’s calculations, I should be done in another six hours, wait, that’s three times the pain I just went through, noooo…’ I am guessing not much appreciation of the scenery is happening, but a critical analysis of the trail is guaranteed: ‘It’s just going on and on.’
After Bogdyar, there was thankfully a flat stretch for almost an hour or so, as we followed the trail, literally cut through a vertical section of the mountain just a few feet above the river. (Limitation alert! Please take a look at the photo on page xi in the inserts.) It’s a unique sight of course, but that was not what they were thinking. ‘It can’t be flat all the way. I wonder when the next uphill is coming.’
And then, ‘Oh, I can see GP ahead. Is he tired? Is he waiting for us? That means the tough section is yet to start, oh no.’
So, playing Q and A with themselves, they reached the point where I was waiting, for all the three reasons above. From there, a narrow makeshift trail climbed straight up the hill, for almost 500m and then after curving around for some time, dropped straight down 500m. When I had reached there earlier with the group, almost everyone stopped just to look at it, wonder at it actually. Why would you do this to us, was the question in everyone’s eyes as they stared at me. Luckily Vinod came to the rescue and explained that the original trail, which continued along the river, had been washed away recently and this was an alternate and of course much tougher route. But we had no choice.
