Nanda Devi

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The Himalayas! That crowning jewel of a mountain range that rears its lofty peaks like a crown over this incredible country. They push heavenward, the result of intense pressures within the earth as the Indian sub continent drives its way inexorably northward into the Asian continent!

Finally, I've met the other trekkers that I knew were somewhere here in Mumbai, hidden amongst the 18,000,000 or so inhabitants! And our little troop of eight, 5 Indians and 3 Americans, is set to head up to Nanda Devi National Park where Nanda Devi, at nearly 26,000 feet of elevation, towers over the pristine landscape. I dream of the adventures - hiking, climbing, braving the late fall weather.

Little do I know, the adventure will begin long before we reach the trail head!

5:45 am, we're in line at for our Jet Lite flight at the domestic terminal of Mumbai's airport. The line is long, its the start of the biggest travel holiday of the Indian year, Diwali. And next thing we know, the seats for our flight are all gone! There are about 25 of us who are in the 'overbooked' category. We're told that they didn't know what plane would come in last night so they didn't know how many seats to sell for this morning's flight. We laugh and heckle the poor Jet Lite worker. We're told that there are no more seats available on any airline all day long. We laugh and heckle the poor Jet Lite worker. We're told we must go talk to the manager down at the end of the conveyor belt. We laugh and heckle the poor Jet Lite worker. We say the manager needs to come to us! And we refuse to give up our spot in line, blocking those behind us who are trying to check in to the next flight! After a long stalemate, I ask the poor Jet Lite worker who has been laughed at and heckled all too long to point out the manager. Her finger points down the baggage conveyor belt. It looked like an invitation to me. So I step across the check in counter, onto the baggage conveyor belt and stride down the lumbering belt, dodging baggage, to talk to the manager!

It really felt good - lots of frustration was expended in that act of defiance of all airport protocols!
The new crowd, now accosting the Jet Lite manager, presses the fact that we are here - now - and we need to be seated on the next flight, the 9:30 flight, as priority over those currently booked on that flight. Not nice. Not polite. But a solution.

A solution that was eventually accepted as we were quietly given boarding passes for that 9:30 flight! I thank the manager. He smiles. Bitterly. And says 'Now it starts again, all over again'. You see, I'm getting on a plane. While the manager's stuck at the check in counter dealing with a new list of 25 'overbooked' travelers on that 9:30 flight.

But the travel nightmare is not over yet. Somehow, Jet Lite lets 3 extra people on the plane! And we sit there on the tarmac for an hour and a half as they try to convince us that three people have to get off the plane with encouraging statements like "We aren't leaving until 3 of you get off the plane!' I remember the challenging times of teaching. Those times where words like 'None of you are leaving this class until I find out who threw that paper airplane". Oh my!

Finally we fly. To Delhi. Get in a car. And drive. To Rishikesh, in the foothills of the Himalayas. We sleep.

We get up and get in a Jeep. And drive. For 10 hours on rough dirt roads. To Josimath. At 7000 feet. The night is crisp and refreshing. And promises a wonderful day to start our trek!

The final morning's drive takes us to the village of Lata Winter, where this tiny village lives on the banks the Dhauliganga River, a tributary of the Ganga (Ganges) River, for the cold winter months. We collect our entourage of porters and cooks and start the trek up to Lata Summer, where the tiny village lives high above the Dhauliganga during the sunny summer months. Then up. Past the village temple, up the hill on well maintained trails, up to our evening's camp at 9500 feet.

We wake up to an awesome view over the Dauliganga Valley, a deep valley, with the tiny Lata villages far below us. And we hike. Up. And up. To a high ridge at 12500 feet where our camp at Lata Kharak (meadow) awaits us. A quick afternoon hike over to a nearby ridge gives us views deep into the heart of the next valley over, the Rishganga River valley. This valley cuts all approaches to the towering Nanda Devi mountain off from any easy access. Its said that crossing that gorge to reach the base camp for an assault on the mountain is harder than the actual climb!

Sunset is beautiful as the orange sun dances through the mists, silhouetting hikers on the trail as we return to our camp for the evening.

The next morning takes a portion of our corps on up and over a ridge to be greeted by a heavily snow packed trail climbing to 14000 foot Dharansi Pass. We do manage to break 14000 feet on this days trek, but have to stop far short of Dharansi due to the snow. That pass was to have given us an unbelievable view of Nanda Devi. Instead we will have to settle for the pleasure of the day's adventure. And an early morning ridge walk tomorrow to a different view point and our glimpse of Nanda Devi.

The evening allows some time for playing cards, quite amusing to the crew of cooks and porters. And some time to share music. One of the porters has his traditional wooden flute and shows me a trick or two. While three harmonica's come out of our backpacks to pleasurable responses. Sundeep, the musician of the porter crew, analyzes and accomplishes. Prem Singh just smiles and blows and doesn't care about anything except the powerful sounds he's making. And a third porter simply closes his eyes in wonder and immense pleasure as he gently blows and draws upon the instrument.

The next morning, as we make that ridge walk, the muses of the mountains smile upon us and we are finally granted our view of the massive and towering peak of Nanda Devi. This mountain at one time was the highest in all of India. Then a boundary dispute got settled and Kanchenjunga, at a bit more than 28000, feet became a part of India. Her massive peak is mighty, a snow covered block of rock thrusting into the blue sky.

As time draws short, we head back to camp to pack up and hit the trail. Down. The trek leader has decided not to drive us up over the high and wide, but snow covered trail. Instead we'll take a narrow, more exposed trail that winds through the forest where there is no snow.

Actually I should say where there was no snow. For as soon as we hit the trail, the snow begins. Little pellets at first. Pinging gently off the birch leaves and pine and spruce needles. Its beautiful! But soon the pellets turn to flakes. And then to bigger flakes. And this narrow trail cut into the steep mountain face is quickly covered in ever deepening snow, become dangerously slick! Some talk of turning back. Up to the camp we know. Some of us argue that we must stick to our plan, be predictable, so if help is needed, it knows where to find us. Our point wins out for now. We press on. But I'm increasingly aware of the danger of our situation as I consider the deepening snow and the inadequate footwear of several in our group. Yet I know that sticking together and being predictable is our best hope! We press on. Slowly.

Then suddenly the situation seems to brighten as a porter comes back up the trail to check on us. A new level of confidence buoys our spirits. We catch up with a portion of our group who had left earlier in the morning. Another level of apprehension lifts as our crew grows. Shortly after, we intersect with the high trail that we had avoided in the morning. And the wide, well maintained trail brings a smile to our faces. We hit a switch back in the trail, and there sits one of our cooks with fresh Ramen noodles to warm and cheer us further. The warm belly is a welcome addition to the day's adventure.

As we continue downward to our camp close to Hitoli, two of our porters race ahead, building little snow alters all along the way, hiding in hollow trees to accost us with snow balls as we pass by. Life is good. The crisis has passed. The two hour hike has taken us 6 hours, but we arrive to several cheery fires at our camp.

Its a wet, cold night in our camp. But the morning brings brilliant sunlight glistening off the high peaks that surround us. That sun warms the snow covered trees, encouraging those trees to let go of their snow load, dropping massive, wet loads on us as we descend the mountain.

We arrive in the tiny village of Tolma, still two hours from the nearest road, near noon time. Here we are to stay with local families for the final night of our trek and the culminating night of the Diwali holiday. We spread our wet clothes all over the verandah in the toasty sun, take our first bath in five days and lounge in the warmth of a mere 8500 feet of elevation!

The evening brings fire crackers. And wandering drummers and villagers who go from house to house to greet and toast their neighbors. Shub Diwali! Happy Diwali!

The road back to Josimath and on to Rishikesh and then back to Delhi is long. But passes smoothly. Well, relatively smoothly. Only one flat tire.

And then. The airport. And a new adventure!

This time the flight is not overbooked. Its not Jet Light! Instead, the flight is delayed. And delayed. And delayed. That's the story with Air India. They made the newspaper this past week for having several planes delayed more than a day on some of their international routes! Anyway, we finally leave only about 3 and a half hours late.

We arrive in Mumbai at 1:00 am.

And I've gotta teach in 6 hours!

OK. Baggage. We wait. And wait. And wait. For an hour and a half! And right before the baggage arrives, the final member of our group of trekkers, Matt, arrives. You see, they park planes out on the tarmac here, and then bus you to the terminal. Well, Air India never sent the final couple buses to the plane. There were 75 people, including Matt, deserted at the plane! They finally got fed up and walked across the runway to the terminal! Just picture, 75 people scurrying from point to point, plane to plane, across the runway in between landing and departing planes, finally getting to the terminal. And they still got there before the baggage!

OK, we've gotten to Mumbai, gotten our baggage, its 2:30 am, nothing else can go wrong. Right?

Well, the new international terminal has engaged in a contract with the local taxi cooperative, so you can't just get in a taxi. You have to stand in line to pre pay for a cooperative taxi. The line to pre pay for your taxi that night. Was. One. Hour. Long.

4:00 am into the bed. 6:00 am get ready for school.

But it was so worth it. The Himalayas. I'll be back there! But I don't plan ever again to fly on Air India or Jet Late (or was it called Jet Lite?)

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Comments

[Jen]

looks like you are visiting some beautiful places.

[Laurie Bridges]

Amazing
Absolutly amazing!