THE OBSERVER-(M-31)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-31)😎

   THE HIMALAYAN WONDER 

Sat 21 Nov 2020

        There are times when one is rendered speechless in the presence of something that beats description. That is the only excuse i am able to offer at the moment for the way this narrative stuttered right from the start and then ground to a long halt after completion of the preparatory stage of the Long Range Patrol. What has been started, has to be completed. So, here goes: 

          The patrolling began with a  half-day ride on vehicles from the Bn HQ at Pooh ( near Kalpa,Sugar Sector) to a point where the metalled road tapered off into a kutcha track and then to a footpath. We trekked down to the Baspa valley with rucksacks ( Baspa is a tributary of the Sutlej ). Supplies and stores were carried by mules and porters.The head porter, an old- timer,  knew the route like the back of his hand. Nevertheless, Lt.Yadav and i periodically made a pretence of deciding on the correct route after taking bearings with a magnetic compass and studiously poring over  our maps. In the process, our maps were liberally splashed with all colours available. I also made it a point to jot down a few lines in my pocket notebook at every halt.This was done with a knowledgeable and important look plastered on my face which i made sure was noticed. After all,being the "Engineer expert ", i had to live up to that term! But very soon, it was obvious that these jottings were becoming rather repetitive and so it became a matter of just noting the time and place. It did not take me long to discover that on his part, our learned Patrol Cdr was working along similar lines. His more experienced JCOs aided by their assistants took care of all the nitty-gritty regarding rations and other administrative and logistic details. Or, maybe they were also putting on a show and just following precedence ! Frankly speaking, i had a sneaky feeling that in most of these matters,we were at the mercy of the head porter from the moment we moved out of our vehicles onto our feet.

We were following a mule-track used by nomadic  shepherds (gaddis) and traders since ages. 

The porters and mules were familiar with the route and trudged in the rear, once the guide had put us on the right track in the morning.

         The first evening, we reached the riverside and set camp at a spot

known to the porters. They were a hardy, cheerful and self- sufficient lot as they carried their own meagre needs cheerfully along with the loads.Then followed a walk through what i can only describe as paradise. For one thing, the lush green meadows were a welcome change compared to the barren heights from where we had started. Then the presence of the gurgling Baspa with ice-cold, crystal-clear water and the complete absence of any signs of humanity had the effect of inducing a trance-like state. 

          The idyllic  panorama kept getting better and better whenl we reached Raksham."Switzerland " was the  thought that automatically sprang to the mind. At a loss for words to do full justice to the scene in its full glory, i can only fall back on the words of the song - " Ye kaun chitrakar hai ?" to come somewhere near to describing the - " Is this a dream or for real?" picture.  Even the mules looked tranquil, the sound of the bells on their necks only adding to the magic of the situation.

          The night halt at Sangla, a small picturesque village, was spent in the PWD resthouse as guests of the Engineer and his assistant. Two local ladies who stayed with them as helpers gave us company in the songs and dancing that accompanied dinner.

We left reluctantly the next morning and reached Chitkul - the last point on the track. A platoon of the ITBP were the sole residents of this isolated outpost. They welcomed us with open arms and there was another night of merriment.

           Leaving Chitkul the next morning, we crossed over to the other bank of the Baspa and headed towards the high pass that would take us across into Uttarakhand. The mules were sent back along with their handlers and heavier stores. Now we were on manpack basis with a handful of porters. Only the head porter had any idea of the " route " which was for the most part, cross-country. Now and then, a pile of stones would reassure us that we were moving in the correct direction.

         The plan was to get over the snow-clad pass and down to firm ground on the other side in one go. But once we started the climb, the progress became slower and slower and we were spread out in a long single line. The reflection of the sunshine on the snow created a blinding glare hurting the eyes despite out military-issue sunglasses. After every two or three steps, we had to halt to catch our breath.The steep slope was very slippery with the melting snow that was freezing into ice. The strong winds made breathing difficult and lack of oxygen became more and more obvious as ascended.

            When we came to a small outcrop of rocks about half-way up, i realised that there was a huge gap in the line. Some ten of us were up there, while Lt. Yadav was  way behind with the remainder and was signalling to us to stop. As it was getting dark, we decided to halt for the night at our respective spots. It so happened that we had the lighter loads with us while the heavier supplies including rations were in the rear. Early next morning, the rear party caught up with us and we climbed to the top at a laborious pace.

       Finally, there we were, on top of the world in the middle of the clouds with nothing around but gleaming white snow ! The descent to Harsil alongside the Ganga through equally stunning scenery onwards to Rishikesh and Haridwar on our way back  follows.

………….to be contd………….

( subject to demand      😁😜   )