ALONE ON MOUNTAIN, LEAVES FALLING

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His first experience of the emptiness was as a child (he can’t remember at what age, probably around 6 or 7). He lay at night waiting for sleep to come, and would see the bouncing lines of balls, in slow motion with the image of each ball leaving a trail behind, bouncing on and on and on …….. Years later he would hear people on radio talk-back recall what they called their ‘eternity dream’, and be reminded of this experience of nothingness, as if it represented some commonly held vision all people got from time to time. Still, it was unique to him when that child. It left him in awe of the space and silence of outer existence…. somewhere. Nothingness, emptiness, silence.



They who have no riches, … who have perceived the void and unconditioned freedom, their path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air.





I woke at 4am. It was OK as I had gone to sleep at 8.30 the night before. Sometimes (not often) I wake lonely, and if I allow, my mind begins to go to sad places and memories. But I decide I will turn it around.

Its dark but it looks like a clear sky. I decide that today is the day I take on the mountain – something I have wanted to do since my time here in 2011. I need to go early if I want to chance clear views of the Himali from up above. But not this early. I meditate, do my yoga, and have half my breakfast – thinking that to get to the mountain top will take only 2.5 hours up and maybe 1 hour back.

I leave the Solhanu house at 6am as the daylight just begins. On the way I realise that I forgot to put the mung sprouts out for sunlight and have a little smile at myself (I am not that far on the spectrum to either worry too much or to turn back!). I also realise I forgot to put an extra ten or so rupees in my pocket just in case (I have just 37 rupees in small change).

I get to Serthi at the top of the ridge by 7.15 am just as the villagers are sauntering out of their houses to attend morning chores. They look at me strangely and amused as I walk past at this early hour. I head upwards (new territory for me).

Its a lovely morning. It is past mid-Autumn now in the mountains and ochre coloured leaves are falling from the trees. Up above Serthi lies a common – a green grassed field with a cute little temple parked on the side. I imagine festivals held here.

From here its up into the forest. The colours are vivid in the morning light. The track is narrow but well defined. After about on hour though I lose it. I fumble around on the steep mountain side for about 30 minutes this way and that trying to find the path again before retracing my steps but thinking 'that's it – defeat – no mountain top today – you are done'. I ponder the lesson and that magic is not always apparent.

Then I get to the spot where the track was last discernible and realise I have missed a sharp turn upwards. And upwards it is. For the next hour I am behaving like a mountain goat. Beyond the tree line it is a case of don't look down and don't slip. I grab tufts of grass as I scramble up the steep slope. There is no sun yet – its up and over the top still. I note the frost still on the grasses as I tread.

And finally.... I reach the grassed summit – and it is bathed in sunshine and there in the distance to the north-east are snow capped Himali. Again I ponder the lesson – perseverance and trust.

I am ecstatic alone at the top. Its just gone 9 am. I later learn that this place is called Lambhari. Its 3,500 m above sea level. I can see villages in Banjar Valley way below that I have visited in the past and thought they were a long way up.

As soon as I sit, a huge hawk glides by so close that I feel I could reach up and tickle his (or her) underbelly. I can see into his eyes. I can hear the sound of the air passing by his body as he glides past.

I look up to the left and see an adorned Hindu shrine parked on the top of the ridge and make my way there. Sobering to think of devotees coming all this way to add fresh offerings. But I can understand the sense of meaning up here.

I see the ridge to the south-east and think that perhaps I can walk all the way to Jalori Pass (3,223 m). I am not too enamoured with the prospect of going down those steep slopes I just came up. It seems a whole lot more precarious than climbing. I take note of the timing and by which time I would need to either turn back if I were not confident of reaching Jalori by the time of the last bus back to Jibhi (2.30 pm).

After about 25 minutes I think maybe its going to be too ambitious – so I head down to my right in the strong belief that it must lead me back to Banjar Valley. Has to. After another 10 minutes or so I have some doubts and wonder if I am going to get lost in the mountains again *. I stop and eat the only food I brought (a peanut cookie).

After some time I view a village and I realise that at lease I am not going to perish – at worst I will be able to shelter there. I am not too worried though. Its not even 11 am yet – I have all day to find my way home.

The village is called Sajwad. Its quite large (500 people) and perched quite high with some fabulous flat lorchards and other farming land (a rarity in these parts). It looks and feels quite prosperous in its traditional context. I get told that I am headed to Gyagi – which is great news as Gyagi is just 2 kms from Jibhi and from there I am just 1 hour from my house again in Solhanu (albeit 1 hour straight up again).

I start down and after 30 minutes join a newly made road. I can see the point of a road being sensible for such a large village – where residents up to this point would have had to carry everything in and up that is not produced locally. But the tragedy of the destruction to the natural habitat along the otherwise gorgeous mountain stream is really confronting. One hopes that things will recover over time. Progress and its inevitable conflicts of balance with nature.

I figured I was maybe 10 minutes to the main road where I would find Gyagi. As it turns out the road goes for another 6 kms which takes over an hour.

Once at Gyagi, I stop for a chai and a ladu (sweet) at Avad's and I tease him about having been to Lambhari (as we had joked last time I was there – looking up to the peak – that we would take a quick hike together one day).

I am hungry so I stop at Licaram's darba for lunch but have to negotiate credit of 50 rupees as I only have 27 rupees left. I eat heartily even though the food lacks variety - consisting of three different ways of presenting rajma (local beans) .

I walk on down to Jibhi and am persuaded by Shombu to have another chai at his shop. Now I am down to 19 rupees.

I call in on Rana (my friend and landlord) and am offered another chai. It all goes down very well after what I figure has been an 8 hour walk of some 18 kms. We chat in the afternoon sun. On my way through Jaipur (next to Jibhi) I purchase some fresh veges costing 20 rupees and give my 19. Broke now.

I head up the track and reach my house again at 4 pm. Exhausted, but intact. Tomorrow will be a full rest day.



* See 2009 Blog “Lost in the Mountains”

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Photos

Temple on the way up
Just above the village of Serthi

Serthi
About 1 hour up from the house looking back

Local plumbing
Good to be re-cycling plastic bottles for something. One of the water supply pipes from up high

Frost on the ground
This side of Lambhari there was no sun - my Keens were great (just send money for this plug please Mr Keen)

The prize - Himalis
From Lambhari - 3,500 m above sea level

Lambhari Shrine and moon
On the very top - Hindu shrine freshly adorned

Moi
Ah the vanity of having timed camera shots

Plan B
If I was lost - this might have been the hangout for the night ahead - about 45 minutes down from Lamri headed for Sajwad

Gyagi
The village of Gyagi as I had never seen it before - so small all the way down there

Sajwad
So at least I was not going to perish in the wilderness tonight

Comments

[Sally Morgan]

WOW
I'm really loving your adventures - even from this far away I can feel this peace dripping into my soul.......