Till that morning (June 1), we did not come across snow on our way. But once we hit the road above Baidini, with Sabyascahi wishing us good luck, we were taken to the world of snow — though not as deep as we would have to negotiate later.
During the tedious trek, we also tried to unravel the myth from Mahendra, who enriched us with the local version of what happened during the great yatra of Nanda Devi king. Several centuries ago, the royal entourage took the same route, which we chose. At Pathar Nachani, where we had to camp for two nights (because that was the last place where grassland was available for mules), the king, according to the myth, buried the court dancers alive. The huge boulders that we also had to pass are nothing but the nachnis (dancers) turned into stone. From Ghora Lotani — above Baidini on the other side of the mountain — we could see Pathar Nachani at a distance, though it took almost an hour to reach there.
The most interesting incident at Pathar Nachani was setting up a makeshift kitchen where meals for five had to be cooked for two days, forget the several rounds of coffee sessions. Since there was no permanent structure unlike Baidini or Tolpani, we gathered some black sandstone to make the wall of the kitchen with a roof made by a piece of plastic, which was primarily used to cover our rucksacks and other stuff on Hira’s back. As soon as we put up tents and finished the kitchen, a hailstorm hit the place for around an hour leaving patches of snow around our tents.
Why Roopkund? Again the question came to our mind some 24 hours before we actually reached there. From Pathar Nachani, Mahendra was showing the serpentine ascent to Kailu Vinayak — a little black spot in the white — etched in the snow-covered hills. That night at Pathar Nachani, everyone of us had interesting dreams. Manas da saw killing some dozen men with sharp weapons like daggers and knives, I though that I was at Santiniketan, my regular weekend retreat, from where I would have to catch a morning train to Calcutta! And, Mahendra, who scaled to that height for at least a hundred times, was also not an exception — he also dreamt blood! Will you call it hallucination or altitude sickness? Or was it because we were tensed the last night before the climax, for which we prepared ourselves for months?
At Kailu Vinayak, Mahendra tried to light the incense sticks, but in vain, as the matchsticks only helped the snow around melt into water and put out the fire as soon as it was lit. The other possible reason probably was less oxygen level at that height (15,500ft). I didn’t even try that, because after the steep ascent for almost one-and-a-half hours, I was really tired and hungry till in the morning sun we had a feast with Sunfeast biscuits and mixed-fruit jam. From Kailu Vinayak to Roopkund via Baguabasa, the road was really tough. But we somehow managed to negotiate the 2ft deep snow. Baguabasa, with a huge cave, was the last place where the tiger of Nanda Devi king could go, Mahendra told us in his inimitable way.
Manas da, the thinnest of us all, had the least difficulty to trudge, but I had the most terrible problem of my life: walking in deep snow with a hockey stick — only two ice axes were there :( — at 16,000-odd feet in the treacherous mountain called the Himalayas. Once, after Baguabasa, I almost tipped on a rock, but could regain balance on time. The next one could have been really fatal, but this time too I saw a large piece of snow and some stones on the road rolling down under my feet and I was balancing myself with only the right foot!
(to be continued...)
Pix at: 1. http://picasaweb.google.co.in/supratimtt/RoadToRoopkund
2. http://www.facebook.com/reqs.php#/album.php?aid=117783&id=581712447
©Supratim Pal, 2009
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