The People of Tirthan Valley

The Tirthan Valley
Solitude of the upper reaches 

The lower Tirthan Valley is slowly being strangled by the tourist rupee, ubiquitous resorts and hotels mushroom along the river. it is a moral dilemma, tourism begets income but with it also come also indiscriminate construction and garbage. But beyond Gushaini towards the Great Himalayan National Park (GHNP), the area is only accessible only by foot and perhaps this inaccessibility to traffic still keeps this corner of paradise relatively untouched. Compared to our lives, local people live in comparative physical hardship. Long mountain trails mean walks of many hours to work and back to their lonely homes.  Carrying heavy loads, as everything is backpacked up to great heights, I saw ladies carry 35 kilograms of flour to villages three hours away. Harsh weather ranging from mild summer storms to bitter winters lashed by snow and wind. All these take a heavy toll on these people who age before their time. But irrespective of the hardship, the people in the interior are wonderful, always welcoming and ever smiling. This is a photo blog of some of these happy, dignified, trusting and warm people.

Lalchand guided me for three days.  
Young and agile as a mountain goat;
he carried a load almost his
own weight easily.He cheerfully helped
 me up ice-slippery mountain slopes
while going for Shilt Hut.
Ever resourceful, he "managed" a hut
instead of using the tent we carried in the park

Lalchand coaxing a fire from wet straw and wood in 
minutes from absolutely wet wood.  He fed me constantly. 
Wearing worn out keds and a faux leather jacket, 
he was comfortable in rain (more often) or shine.
His prized possession through the trip
were the pair of sun-glasses he found on the trail.  

Chandi Devi - Lady of the GHNP, has a hut between the
Park gates and Rolla camp.Here she emerges from 
the living area of her hut in the GHNP.
See the beehive holes on either side of the door
at the lowest level. Symbiosis with nature at its best,
she coexists with the bees and other animals, each giving the 
other something.

  

Stiff at first, Chandi Devi was a feisty lady
with a great sense of humour. The only inhabitant of the Park,
living alone in the hut by the side of the path, she is almost
 entirely self sufficient. She has children and grandchildren
who visit and supply her, but she chooses to live alone.
Reticent at first, she stood stiltedly for a photograph,
then as I got her chatting, she spoke animatedly
about the leopard that roared the previous night 
and other things.

I will not let the forest department move me out of here she says; 
She talks about how the forest department was trying to get her to move 
and why she was the most photographed denizen of the park!

Her hut has three levels, animals and beehives at the lowest, 
her living space in the middle and a small cooking space at the third tier.
 Unfortunately a camp site has come up around her abode,
an attempt, I think to dislodge her.

The Mother -  While walking up a steep forested hill
 I came upon a large dwelling. There was a single lady nearby,
she was very elegant and young. As was common among these
wonderful hill folk, in a very short while she got very chatty
 and extremely hospitable, offering me a chair and lunch
 (regrettably I declined). 

Wistfully, the Mother tells of
The pride of her life, her two sons, both toppers in school
and both studying in college. She ran in and got their photographs,
in which they were receiving a prize from a dignitary.  Her husband
 was a school teacher, walking two hours each way
five days a week to get to the school where he taught.

Anjali's younger sister whom I first stopped to photograph. 
A tiny little urchin, at first she was self conscious but  slowly she 
got used to me  finally giving me a bemused smile.

Anjali's mother seemed a harried lady, 
Anjali and her younger sister seemed great kids till the mother 
came, when they would behave spoilt and petulant.

Anjali -  An amazingly precocious girl of six,
I met her at a village on the way to the waterfall above Sai Ropa. 
Around her mother she was  spoilt and brattish but when alone with me
Anjali of the impish smile, never stopped chatting or laughing

striking a pose for me on the way, she spoke of her dreams and hopes,
her life today and what she intended it to become.  
She was acutely conscious of her looks and was
 constantly brushing and clipping her hair.

miss photogenic herself, Anjali was posing for me without
any trace of embarrassment. We parted good friends.

A grandmother of indeterminate age, this wonderful lady was coy,
aggressive and humourous in turn. I met her on a trail in the forest
behind where I was staying. She was laboriously limping her 
way to her children's house some distance away from hers.

Her face was richly wrinkled with each wrinkle probably a story to tell.
The harsh climate and hard life probably has taken a toll on her
as she seems to have aged beyond her years. But she retained
her wry sense of humour.

This gentleman was a bit redolent of some local liquor, however he took
me under his wing in a climb to the temple at Bandal Village.  Even
trying, unsuccessfully, to find the keys to the temple which was locked.

Very gentle and humorous, he explained various aspects
of the temple to me.  Also explaining the local custom of 
restricting access in most temples to people who were 
somehow connected to the construction of the temple.

I stopped to ask this lady directions, she had a delightful manner
and a bewitching smile. She willingly allowed me to photograph her
losing her awkwardness after a few moments.

She gave me directions and chatted awhile, but the effect of
 her hard life was evident in every crease on her face.  
While she was wrinkled on the exterior, there were no wrinkles
on her humour and patience with this city slicker with a camera.

A forest guard I met at a tea stall in Ropa,
 he had a very dignified manner. He allowed me to photograph him,
having a very pensive manner about him all the while. I ordered tea and 
the ubiquitous "Magi" noodles (which were actually
Wai Wai) for him too. Magi has become a generic term 
for noodles in the mountains.

Later I found that he was also moonlighting as a guide to a couple
 who were trekking in the park. Here he is washing utensils
 in the mist at Rolla. The couple he was supporting came dressed 
in biker studded boots and T-shirts to match, 
drank till late at night and left in the morning.

The Shepherd, was on the trail to GHNP, I requested him to gather
his sheep so that I might take a picture and he obliged. There were 
many such herders, what was remarkable is the care and concern with which 
they tended their sheep or goats. It was really touching.
 It was getting dark and I hastily took the pic.

A Trek to Triund and Snowline

The Dhauladhars offer a very different vista compared to the higher ranges in the Himalayas.  Not very high and therefore a wide range of vegetation offers a variety of experiences, views and bird sightings. It is an easy trek that for the young and fit, and can be done in a day, however an overnight stay at Snowline, further on, allows one ‘to smell the roses’ and enjoy the view while walking.

Our trek started from Dharamkot, a laid back hamlet on the outskirts of McLeodganj near Dharamshala. We were staying in a homestay, of which there are many and most don’t appear on the web so you could literally shop around and find a place to stay that suits your budget. Almost every resident who has a house advertises a place to stay, from tiny rooms with common toilets to reasonably well appointed places with en suite rooms.  Prices vary from a few hundred rupees to about Rs1500 per night. Remember this is a hill town and beyond Mcleodganj one has to walk to most homestays.  Therefore the solitude increases in direct proportion to the distance walked.  This imposes caution on the heavy traveller, take what you can carry on your back or you have to hire a porter to take your luggage to the place of stay.

Eating in Dharamkot is superb and cheap. Our very pleasant experiences with Out of The Blue (at the Gallu

Devi road junction)   and Trek and Dine (in the main Dharamkot market) enabled us to eat excellent continental meals at less than Rs 200 per head. Try the pizza at Out of The Blue, it is delicious. The large foreign population is evident everywhere, they are mainly low budget, long stay travellers who have come to this area for its low costs.  Many of the foreigners, are here to learn some skill or the other, hence many signs everywhere on teaching ‘Indian’ skills from yoga through jewellery making to music. The flute seems very popular and we saw a very talented group practising on a roof top one early morning.

Though we had planned a guide and a porter for our trek to the top, the evening prior to our trek, we had met a couple who had come down from the top and they explained the entire route to us.  Based on this we decided to drop the idea of a guide and porter (and save about Rs 5000!). The climb is from an altitude of

approximately 2000 metres at Dharamkot to about 3300 metres at Snowline Cafe.

Initially we thought we would take the direct path from near our homestay in Dharamkot which would meet the Triund track in a much shorter distance, however it was reputed to be very steep and not clearly defined and so much more difficult and time consuming.  Hence we opted for the longer route via Gallu Devi, where the main Triund track starts. We started from our Dharamkot homestay at 7 am and the climb to Gallu Devi took us about 30 minutes.

The track to Triund is a stony, well defined path with steps at places and varying gradient. As we entered the path, a gentleman from abroad, clad in long distance running gear, whizzed past us, presumably running his way to the top! The trek to Triund is an easy three and a half hours or so with spectacular views as we ascend. Due to unseasonal weather in the Dhauladhars, the pattern each day was crystal clear at sunrise, clouds coming in by about 9 am, dense fog/clouds through the day and then again clears by evening and through the night. Due to this by the time we reached the top views were restricted to small vignettes through brief windows in the fog. There were a lot of very pretty flowers blooming and a variety of flora beside the track, we stopped frequently to enjoy and photograph these.

There are three ‘tea stalls’ along the way, these shacks of wood and plastic sell an eclectic mix of water (Rs 40 a bottle as everything comes up by mule); aerated drinks, Maggi noodles, assorted other necessities and non-necessities, and of course tea.  Mid-morning we stopped at Magic View (the better known of the tea stalls) for a cup of over-sweetened tea, this is a great perk up when tired and did wonders for us, even the non-tea drinkers!  From here we admired the view of Dharamkot and the valley which was fast getting

shrouded in clouds rolling in.  We also chatted with fellow trekkers who were going up or coming down; one gains a lot of information in such passing but interesting conversation. By now we began to meet the people who had spent the previous night up at Triund and Snowline and were now descending, they had their own tales to tell.  It was very heartening to see the invasion of the Waste Warriors at these remote tea stalls and the care that the locals take in keeping garbage organised, separate sacks for different types of garbage.  We reached Triund at lunch time amid dense fog, Triund is the junction of three ridgelines and a popular destination judging from the large number of huts, and tents we saw.  At one of the stalls we ordered a meal, this, as we had begun to discover, was either the ubiquitous Maggi noodles or bread and omelette; hungry as we were, we orderedboth. The dense fog precluded any views of the Kangra Valley which is supposed to be visible from here.

After lunch it was time to move on to Snowline.  The track now became less defined; this coupled with the dense fog caused us to lose our way, meandering along false goat trails into a maze of boulders.  The barking of sheep herders dogs, led us to a shepherd’s refuge amongst the rocks, a pen surrounded on three sides by rocks and the fourth side being fenced in with tree branches.  The sheep and their master were away, but I decided that if we had to,

we’d spend the night here rather than on a bare mountain side.  Marking the spot carefully, we moved cautiously towards where we thought the track was, which we found in about half an hour, to our immense
relief.  In a while we discovered a series of yellow arrows marked on rocks, a trail made by the owner of the Snowline Café. Beyond Triund it is important to follow these arrows as the trail is not very clear and it is easy to get lost, particularly in fog. As we were continuously gaining altitude, the hill side got barer, with pine trees and rhododendrons being more evident.

We reached Snowline at 4 pm, a little late due to our wandering off the track earlier. The name comes from the fact that pre-global warming; this was the point from where the permanent snowline started.  However now it has receded substantially and there is no sign of snow except on distant peaks.  Even   the glacier is now a muddy tract of ice on a distant hillside. We were ravenous when we reached and immediately requested the owner to make us; yes you guessed it, a plate of hot Maggi noodles and sweet tea.

Snowline Café….a grand name for a plastic sheet and wood shack, the only one here, has been here for more than 18 years (so says the owner) and is the overnight staging point for trekking further to the Lahesh Caves and Indrahar Pass.

Apart from water and other supplies, the owner provides lodging too.  Rs 500 gets you your own six feet of space to spread your sleeping bag or his three blankets, a little more money upgrades you to a one or two person tent and a sleeping bag. His intense marketing, signs painted on rocks, proclaims this to be the last café on this route. Others at the café were a couple, a French boy with his Assamese girlfriend staying in the shack, a party of three Russians with their guide using their own tents. Dinner was a simple but tasty rajma-chawal which everyone enjoyed. The owner, colourful gentleman, had interesting stories to tell. When I asked him whether he had heard of Mumbai, he looked disdainfully at me.  He had sold bed sheets bought in Ludhiana on the footpaths of Mumbai and Delhi for a number of years!  He then started Snowline Café.

Being October it was not too cold, the temperature range for the entire trek was between 12 and 22 degrees centigrade. In the morning everything was soaked in a thick layer of dew. The others were moving on to the Indrahar Pass (a 9 hour round trip) and so left at 7 am. We were not prepared for this leg of the trek and so decided to turn back after enjoying the sunrise.  From here to the Indrahar Pass it is advisable to have a guide or move in a self-sufficient group as the route is not defined clearly. There is no place to stay beyond the Snowline Café, though those carrying a good enough sleeping bag and food, have stayed in Lahesh Caves.

We enjoyed the sunrise over the Dhauladhar Range on a sharply clear morning. This is a spectacular light show, as the sun rises from behind the range and the rays gently caress highest peaks first, gradually spreading their warm glow downwards, backlighting the heights in descending turn. We were told that the sunrise in each season is very different and each a joy to behold.  How true, we were truly enthralled.

After a breakfast of more Maggi noodles, we began our descent.  The walk down to Triund took us an hour along an isolated track; lost in our solitude we enjoyed nature at its pristine and untrammelled best. Only serious trekkers come this far, and they are usually careful of their surroundings. A pair of Himalayan Griffon, huge majestic birds, kept us rapt with their precision gliding.  They seem to effortlessly ride the thermals by just moving their wing tips, not one flap of the wings in all the time we were watching; what supreme economy of effort. In the dense forest on the lowers slopes we heard many calls of jungle fowl but nary a sighting.

From Triund walking down was as anti-climatic as the descent in altitude; the tranquillity of the two days was shattered by at least a thousand people who were going up to Triund for the long weekend.  This was a veritable parade of fashion, selfies, blaring music and suitcases on mules.  A raucous welcome back to reality, The Great Indian Traveller strikes again!