It is not the mountains we conquer but ourselves - Sir Edmund Hillary
Long Preamble
“This is my first trek and I am looking for new experiences”, was my lame introduction during the first briefing session at Gaichwangaon village in Naitwar before starting the trek to the Kedarkantha summit. But I came back with a life changing experience, something that I have not had in a long while. It has been a few days since I have returned and I am in a hurry to write this post lest the city-life rubs away the haze that I am in right now.
I had been keen on a proper trekking trip for a long time. P’s Dalhousie trek which he kept reminiscing, and his friend NS, whom we met regularly at half marathons, mentioning that Chaadar trek is an ultimate trekking experience, were like two post-its stuck in my mind (life is full of post-its gathering dust). But like most to-do’s for me, I never seriously planned it. I do not know how but a few months back, I came across the site of indiahikes (IH) and other such organisations. I asked the only guy in my office who I thought would be interested. But he showed uncertain interest which dampened me. During a lunch get-together around October end, a colleague mentioned that she is going for a trek in December. And I sprang at it. She was going alone. She said - “why do you want company? This is about time with self, for introspection.” I almost invited myself to tag along with her but she was not so keen. But that set me thinking.
I desperately wanted to do it but was stuck on the point of not having anybody for company. And on reading more on the IH site, it seemed a daunting undertaking, requiring fair bit of preparation. I was dangling between being independent and assertive, and needing a support. I did not want to ask P, my best partner for such initiatives - out of ego and out of fear of refusal. So I kept weighing it in my mind tiresomely, admonishing myself for being timid and weak. SJ kept prodding me to decide, to be confident. Eventually, I registered for the trek in a rush, the only way I would have done it. But even taking the decision did not assuage me, I was uncertain of my decision - the reason I gave was that I was going alone. Another irritation was that I had little time for what seemed like a mountain of preparation.
The proverbial straw turned out to be the doctor. When I went to get the medical certificate required for the trek, the doctor showed some concern. And this was the doctor whom I considered to be non-alarmist and easy-going. While he signed the certificate, he was not too certain. His sentiments were - “how come you decided to go ahead with such a difficult trek in your first instance? Have you done treks before? Your blood has limited oxygen carrying capacity, it would be tough on high altitude.” I had few medical conditions which had much bearing on all that entailed in trekking. I was confused, and my parents were seriously scared. They were not excited in the first place and the doctor’s reaction made them jittery. I decided to pull the plug on the whole thing. But as a last ditch effort I called P.
I had told him about the trek a few days back, and he had mildly expressed his hurt at not being asked, how a few years ago it would have been unthinkable for either of us to take such an endeavour without the other, how keen he was to trek, and he might have considered going had I asked in time. His hurt saddened me apart from giving a perverse satisfaction (how I, or many people, cannot imagine life without one-up-man-ship). Now I was ashamed of my timidity and weakness, how I could not be enterprising and strong enough to take on a challenge alone. Nevertheless, I gulped my overblown pride and called P. I explained my situation, without detailing the medical conditions, and accepted my weakness. He was willing to consider my proposal to postpone the trip to sometime in January if he would come along. To my delight, within a few days he agreed for January 26th, almost 50 days ahead. Now I had plenty of time to prepare and the best guy to go with.
But I remained a tortured soul. The doctor’s reaction kept echoing in my mind; my parents’ concern was adding fuel; and my perennially worrying nature was aggravating the medical conditions - all were like tentacles gnawing at my resolve. My medical conditions, acute mountain sickness (AMS), extreme weather and physical conditions, low oxygen, no means of communication were the concerns which kept looming in my mind. In my mind I was piling up all that could go wrong - a stupid thing to do. Although I was trying to alleviate my medical conditions, retelling myself that they were more driven by my psyche and hypochondriac nature than being serious physical deficiencies, I remained worried. SJ was the only one propping my resolve, logically arguing and resting my concerns. Anyway, I was at a point of no return now, not going now would dent my confidence forever.
Let the Games Begin
From the beginning, I was impressed by IH. Their website was very informative and their processes were seamless. After registering for an earlier date, when I asked for a change of date, it was done without any qualms. Now I was getting mails from them on regular basis. These were both promotional as well as informative, detailing various aspects of trekking. I realised that there are so many nuances, considerations and complications in trekking than what appears initially. It is not just about climbing mountains, there are aspects like geography of the place, weather conditions, techniques, medical aspects, personal health and stamina, equipments, clothing requirements, dietary considerations, psychological and emotional aspects, and aspects of teamwork, leadership and other softer skills. While most of these were to be revealed to me over time, the immediate ones were to do with building my stamina and deciding the stuff that is required.
With regard to building strength, IH had given the kind of exercises one should do and the level of fitness one should have. I felt I had achieved those minimums given my gymming and half-marathon routines, still I tried to maintain a regular working out routine. The thing is that trekking involves strenuous physical exercise at high altitudes with lower level of oxygen in the air, and at times in extreme weather conditions like low temperatures and high wind. All these are unusual conditions for the body which in turn responds in different manners. There is so much science behind this, of which we were doing just a crash course. Mostly, I was most worried about my breathing ability, heart condition, and ability to carry heavy load. I was lesser worried about AMS or low temperature.
While we could only do so much about the health aspects, what needed to be done actively was to get all the gear/equipment/stuff and pack it properly. Because trekking requires carrying own stuff while encountering all the extremities mentioned above, and remoteness of location means that one cannot buy stuff that is missed, there is a trade-off between not loading too much and yet carrying everything important. IH had webpages and videos on what all to carry. The most confusing aspect was the layering, basically how many clothes to wear. Since the body would be in different states - highly physical to relaxing and weather conditions will also vary starkly - sunny to bitterly cold, clothing becomes critical. Layering is the concept of wearing more layers of clothes rather than wearing more thick materials, as layering gives insulation. In addition, we were introduced to materials and gears like fleece, trekking pole, headlamp, down jacket etc. I borrowed a lot of stuff lest this is my only trek. I did not even have the basics such as trekking pants and sunglasses. There were many aspects to consider around everything. I and P deliberated deeply and shopped together. The focus was to pack light. In hindsight, I feel we did a good job, although the learning has made us wiser and we can pack lighter and smarter in future. I prepared all the stuff over multiple iterations and trips to Decathlon, a store which impressed me greatly. Seemingly tiring, the preparation was the fun and educational part of the trek.
The trek involved travelling from Delhi to Dehradun by train, then 8-10 hours of road journey to the starting point, two-and-half days of ascent, one-and-half days of descent, and the return journey. P had also roped in NS to come along. I had no other view of the guy apart from being impressed with his stamina, as he repeatedly completed half-marathons with impressive timings. My parents remained worried while seeing me off, as was the case with P’s father. He cautioned me and warned me against any over-adventure. I was summarily linked as the one dragging P into senseless dangers, an impression I take pride in.
From the time of leaving Delhi to reaching back, we spent more than six days, and they were memorable in every way. There were numerous learnings and experiences. We started off by staying in a homestay in Gaichwangaon in Naitwar (5,600 ft), then at campsites in Jalouta (8,950 ft), Pukhrola (10,500), Moniala (8,450 ft), and finally in a cosy hostel in Sankri (6,450 ft). The summit was 12,500 ft.
Trekking Part
At the heart of what we did was trekking. And it was by far the most fun thing. Each day had different flavour. First day had relatively difficult ascent trek with altitude gain of almost 3500 ft. We encountered limited snow, and I felt good. Just like in marathons, in trekking, each day the body speaks differently. But in the end, it is the fitness, the effort put in the gym which kicks in during tough times. I had offloaded my backpack. But since I was feeling very comfortable and seeing most others do it, I carried NS’s backpack for almost two hours. After this I carried my backpack for the remaining three days of the trek. I had read that by carrying a backpack properly, it can feel like a part of the body, but I was not sure how that would happen. Over this trip, there were many learnings such as packing the backpack right - both in terms of its total weight and weight distribution, and carrying it properly ensuring that the weight comes on waist and shoulders instead of on back. These factors ensured that carrying the backpack was comfortable. I realised that I can cut on the weight further for my next trip. The fact that I was feeling good meant that I completed the first day fastest, despite a steep climb in the end. Day two was slightly tough for me. While I had started strongly, my body was thrown slightly off-course by two things - I took off my down jacket in between despite it being snowy. I was more comfortable after wearing it again. The second thing was falling in snow after Dileep chased me during the snow fight, which gave me a slight headache.
Throughout the first two days I was conscious about breathing deeply, looking to fill my lungs with as much oxygen as I can, to prevent AMS. I do not agree with P when he says ‘His body is his temple”. I like to hear what my body is saying, and only on some occasions do I go too far. I enjoy when my body and mind are in sync like during a good run and as was the case during the three sessions of ascent. The summit trek on third day was the cherry. We started at 6 am in complete darkness. It was a surreal experience - pristine white ascent in front of us, tall trees around us, beautiful moon, bitter cold and a clear multicoloured sky. The trek leaders were serious about starting early and they pushed everyone. With frantic energy everyone joined in a queue and we three were the last ones, completing the dressing and gearing up as we climbed. There was beautiful peace all around, as if everyone was meditating silently, respecting the KK peak, while inside I was fluttering with excitement at the sights around me. The serious commitment and resolve blended with the atmosphere, gave me a feeling as if we were climbing Everest. Indeed it was our Everest of the day. And my body felt great despite the limited sleep of the night before. Possibly it was the adrenaline.
Views during the entire climb were breathtaking. We could see parallel peaks till the horizon, beautiful trees, the snowy slope of the summit, gradations in the mountain that we had overcome below us, our camp in the distance, the sun coming from behind a peak slowly, gentle and soft illumination. The summit was visible all throughout and the path was clear. I was discussing with Yash that more capable trekkers might take a shorter and steeper route to the top while we would go circuitously so that the slope is gradual and easier. Yash concurred, but eventually we followed a relatively sharper trail. After almost an hour of the trek, the wind picked up. Yash kept prodding us not to stop as it was getting cold. This was an important point in trekking - to stop or not.
Most times, it makes sense to trek in a nice rhythm without stopping. Stopping means body cools down which accentuates the impact of the cold weather. Body is working hard to maintain its temperature and cooling down and resuming increases the stress on the body. Maintaining a steady pace keeps the body in sync as the metabolism stabilises at a level where it generates enough heat to offset the outside chill. That is when optimum output is reached. Moving steadily means that you are harnessing that output and covering distance quickly. But in a large group, variations in pace and stamina have to be considered. Plus the added nuisance of photography. For me these meant we were stopping more and longer than what I was comfortable with. I was not happy that we were cooling down and reheating the body frequently. I felt it personally when at every resumption, my legs ached and I felt more tired than when we had stopped. I wanted to flow with the momentum, the adrenaline rush, but we kept wasting it. I am sure that on longer and more serious treks, the breaks are lesser and shorter, and better results are achieved per calorie of body heat generated.
Coming back to the summit day, Yash wanted us to keep moving at any cost. More dangerous than fatigue was cooling down of the body which would then catch the chilly wind. But the speed of the group remained slow, as per me. I was in great rhythm and wanted to roll with it. I was especially feeling cold in my face, and legs. It was difficult to manage and I wanted to reach the comfort of the peak quickly. But we were instructed not to break the queue, so I had to accommodate the disruptions ahead. The last half an hour of trek was exciting as it was steep climb, cutting through the face of the peak, and on one instance taking a sharp turn perpendicular to the face in order to avoid a boulder. A false move here meant long slide downwards, not necessarily fatal but fearful. At that point one of the older uncles struggled, and Yash broke the queue, climbed at a sharp angle and reached him quickly, taking him up along with him. NS did something similar for a rank youngster later in the trip.
But I was able to go at a steady pace apart from the forced disruptions. P had offloaded his backpack on this day with the idea of sharing mine. In the initial part of the ascent he asked me to give it to him but I said that I would carry it all the way to the summit and he can take it during the descent. Now when I saw him behind me during the ascent, I could sense he was struggling a bit. He later said that he had found the ascent tough and would not have been able to do it with the backpack. I think he would have, but he was not in great shape. After completing the ascent, the summit would always be anticlimactic. I enjoyed the time on the top and the views, but the best part was of course the climb, like a half-marathon.
The descent is always unappealing because it is largely easier. Yash gave the mountaineering quote: “The ascent is always optional, but descent is mandatory”. We were taught how to slide and they were a bit challenging mostly because they were not smooth and steady. But slides gave the most contact with snow, we dug deep, almost one feet in the snow. I was surprised how little did it matter even when the bum was in prolonged contact with the snow, or that snow seeped through layers of clothes. I guess the body has great adaptability. During the descent I was willing to slow down my pace, spending time with P. We made random graffiti on snow. The trend continued on the final day - we three were the last ones, and at one instance way behind the trek guide, enjoying the sights and solitude. The highpoint of the descent was Juda ka Talab. It was sunny and I took off two layers of clothing, and for the first time was in just a T-shirt. I rued that I was not wearing an ADHM tee to make an impression on others. Juda ka Talab was a small grassy meadow with a semi-frozen pond, ensconced in the snowy hills. The memorable part was competing in pushups with P and Yash, something I always enjoy. Yash showed why he is the trek leader doing two sets of more than 35 pushups in fluent motion. Everyone was wowed by his effort, and amazed at his fitness. But I was happy with myself, doing 30 pushups after so many days.
The last part of descent got difficult because of the slush created by the melting snow. It was extremely slippery and despite my cockiness with the descent, I slipped thrice. In the end, the descent looked foolish and needlessly tiring. I had lost my composure and mental balance with those falls.
Grub Diary
Food on such trips is not supposed to be a luxury but a means to an end, with requirement of being healthy. I had heard that IH serves good food, but what we got was unbelievable, considering the conditions in which it was prepared. The portions, variety, taste, everything was perfect. So over four days we got very thin rotis, flavoured paranthas, various kinds of dals with flavouring of onion and garlic, rice, even biryani on one day, mixed veggies, awesome dalia, baingan bharta, chana, rajma, aloo subzi, popcorn, soups, garlic water, tea, sandwich, boiled egg, idli-sambhar, papad, banana, orange, dates and walnuts, roasted chana, and desserts, including complicated ones like gulab jamun. IH team advised us everyday whether to stuff ourselves or to go light depending on what lay ahead. The focus was on giving food which was healthy, nutritious, easy-to-digest and high on energy.
And it was served with love - mostly Dev and Subhash doing the serving, asking everyone to eat heartily. We met the cooks at two sites and they were humble people, mostly hill folks. IH mail had said that even chefs are expert climbers and I am sure they were given that they were locals and dressed sparsely. We hardly came to know when they prepared food. Just that the food was there at the designated time, and was re-filled promptly. Everything was done so silently and discretely, we never saw them apart from when they met us on departing day. Even when we were having breakfast at 5.30 am on the summit day, I am sure I heard no activity when I woke up at 4 am. They were like ghosts - you did not see them, just their efforts.
Apart from the food we got at camps, our constant companions were dry fruits, chocolates, chiki, which we ate during the treks and at night. I am sure our endurance would have been more realistically tested if we had not got food of such high quality.
Loo-usy business
The biggest challenge that we faced during the four days of the trek was the loo. This had been a worrying factor for me before I had planned the trip. During the briefing, we were told that we would find makeshift, dry toilets at campsites. I was concerned with toilet at the Gaichwangaon homestay itself, what to mention about those at campsites. The big worry was the timing - I am used to taking my sweet time on the Western style lavatory, something which is not easy on the Indian style one, and the fact that I have an elaborate process for the morning - pee, brushing teeth, downing almost one liter water - before the actual task. Given the scheduled starts. on most days I was up really early to give myself sufficient time for the entire process - drinking one liter of such cold water proved impossible. Flexibility and speed around the morning loo routine comes readily to those who remain on the move and do not have the luxury of a fixed location and routine. While I have known my inflexibility, I had not faced it such distinctly. I had higher respect for those in armed forces, spending time in inhospitable conditions.
Yash had explained that we would find dry toilets, which meant a pit in the earth on which to squat. He even explained how he found squatting difficult and it is better to take a trekking pole for support instead to leaning on the aluminium poles which supported the toilets, as these were not firm. I had shaken the toilet support once. His memorable line was: “There is a dry mixture of mud and coconut husk which helps in fast decomposition. Once you do your business, pour the mixture on your business. Just one scoop is sufficient, do not pour too much or make a pyramid, which would make it difficult for others to use.” The level of details he went into for the loo routine indicated that it was a common peeve of trekkers. It was indeed the case as I found out over the days. I have always been shy and proper, not discussing loo routines with others. But the urgency spanked that shyness in the face and I found myself, P and NS openly discussing loo habits, dilemmas, and successes. P said that when on the pot, he wondered ‘Why do we do this to ourselves?’.
Overall, for me, things went reasonably well. We had four days to negotiate (on day 5 in Gypsy Child hostel, we gratefully had the luxury of western style loo with plenty of water) and my once-a-day only habit held me in good stead. The challenges which I faced were primarily around doing the business by lowering my trousers to knee level whereas I am used to totally taking them off; squatting; using only toilet paper/wet wipes; and overcoming the site and smell of the loos. Overcoming these challenges was a great learning experience. Other things apart, I distinctly remember each of my loo sessions (Sheldon-esque obsession with bowel movement routine). Especially memorable was the one at Pukhrola, when I woke up at 4 am to accommodate the 6 am departure, and covered the snow-laden path to the secluded loo in bright moonlight and in absolute silence (not a soul had woken up).
Cold
I consider myself to have a relatively good tolerance for all weathers - extreme cold and extreme heat - to the extent I have witnessed in Delhi. Thus the cold that we were supposed to encounter was the least of my worries. Over four days I suppose we witnessed temperatures in the range of -5o to +5o. The cold was debilitating especially at the campsites (trekking was largely comfortable). As the evening progressed into night, the temperature would drop rendering the gloves and shoes almost useless, freezing the fingers and the toes. Bigger travesty would be any encounter with water, primarily to wash utensils. It would take a good 15 minutes for sensation to return to hands. On many occasions, the hands would turn almost black, giving me the feeling that the blood is freezing, although Yash debunked the argument. This apart, the cold had a debilitating effect - all motions seemed to have become slow, hands and feet would barely move and mind felt comatose. It showed in the end results - we would take almost two hours in the morning to change clothes, pack our stuff, and get ready to leave. Most times, I dissuaded NS, who had the best tolerance from cold amongst all of us, from strolling in evenings or night. One more than one occasion, the chill and the fatigue detracted us from basking in the beautiful moon light.
At night I liked storing the hot water, but it was pretty useless. Another challenge was planning the water consumption at night out of fear of having to wake up in the middle of night to pee. It was an absolute nightmare to get out of sleeping bag, and walk to the loo in sub-zero temperature. I mostly peed in the snow behind our tent - a convenient and perfectly acceptable solution.
Time in tent
Amongst the many new learnings for me was the time I, rather we three, spent in tents at the campsites. The tent was a square of 6.5’ feet x 6.5’ feet dimension, while the tallest amongst us was 6’ feet tall. It was a cosy place, a haven protecting from the chill outside. The surface had multiple layers of carpet, and thick mats which insulated the cold from beneath adequately. The tents were of the brand Hillman Expedition, with ability to withstand -10o temperature. They were indeed very comfortable - closing the zippers was the most decisive act of the day. Talking about zips, at Pukhrola we faced a fiasco when our zip got undone as we retired for the night. We had to call Yash not once but thrice and he came without fuss each time.
The tent was our small home. We would line up our backpacks on one side leaving the remaining space to sleep. At one corner, which we called ‘corner office’ we would keep lunch boxes, mugs, and things needed at short notice, primarily toilet paper, and paper soap. The tent would be in chaos when we would pack our bags, which happened almost all the time. With three large bags, 2-3 smaller ones, six sleeping bags, and three of us all occupying the floor space, it would be a mess. And within this, we would change our clothes - primarily getting into and out of thermals - in the evening and in the morning. P would diligently pile the sleeping bags in one corner, calling it his sanitisation operation. Biggest chaos would be the morning just before leaving. Any amount of preparation the night before would not expedite things in the morning - overall we were inefficient with our packing and planning.
But in evenings, once the bags were packed and neatly lined in one corner, the tent and us would come into element. It was such a cosy place. We would sit in a circle, play music on P’s mobile, take out stuff to eat, mainly dry fruits and chocolates, and the small bottle which P carried. To accentuate the mood, NS’s headlamp would be very important with its blinking red light setting. We would hang it in one corner and start crooning songs. Despite being tired from rising early and trekking for 5-6 hours, none of us would be in mood to sleep, especially at an early hour of 8-9 pm. So we would keep postponing it till our bodies would allow and till the collective foolishness permitted. The threat of dying battery of P’s phone was the single reason we would sleep at a reasonable time. Even then we would try to spend time gossiping while in the sleeping bags, till one of us dozed off. The discussions would be mostly random and arbitrary and only seldom serious. The slope of the ground was an interesting phenomena. Usually there we would be a slope on both the sides presenting a unique challenge to sleeping. Idea was to keep head on the elevated side, and to prevent sliding during the night, something which happened frequently.
The tents accorded limited privacy, not that I am complaining. They were closely spaced and voices could be heard from adjacent tents (first night we had noises and dialogues flowing freely between our tent and that of Panchkula uncles, who were especially wild and inebriated that night). Any light inside a tent permeated the walls, and standing outside, it was easy to make out who all were awake.
Talking about sleeping bags - they were not too comfortable but I got used to them as nights progressed. It was difficult getting into and over them and I developed pain in my left neck. Not having a pillow was another problem. It was a challenge to move inside three layers - one liner and two sleeping bags - given that I have the habit of tossing around during the night. Nevertheless they were saviours of the night. I remember breathing deeply on most nights. In fact in the morning in Pukhrola, the tops of our sleeping bags, and the entire inner lining of our tent were wet with condensation of our breaths, there were also some icicles! The sleep pattern varied and only on the third night, with summit behind us, did I sleep the best.
About gears
Like any field in life, there is a lot to learn about trekking once one decides to dig deeper. It is not just about climbing and there is a lot of science involved. I got a basic sense of this on this trek. IH team was great in teaching us many basics like the double knot for tying shoelaces which importantly made sure they do not untie while trekking; balance the weight of the backpack, how to lift it and to wear it properly so that the weight distribution on the body is better making it easier to carry; the height of a trekking pole and how to carry it; how to wear microspikes and gaiters (a bit tough and wieldy). These apart, we were guided on how much water to drink, food to eat, how to plant our feet while ascending and descending, how to slide down. I am sure there are more techniques around trekking, managing fatigue, stress on the body, navigating difficult slopes, finding resourceful solutions to typical challenges, something to learn in future treks.
Bonding with P & NS
I have known P for more than a decade and he has been my partner in most random stuff, something which many people around us would not understand but something which we instinctively and collectively enjoy. There is a common understanding between us, something which has shaken in last few years but is still there - more out of scarcity. On this trip, I found a new like-minded friend - NS. I could relate to NS on so many levels, at times more than P, given our love for English movies, sports, and trivia. And NS is more adventurous and capable for adventurous activities - I have mentioned how he is way faster than me and P in completing half marathon. He has much better tolerance for cold, which matters. And he is a warm-heated, cooperative, and down-to-earth person. One could hold long conversations with him - both random and serious.
So all three of us were in great sync and had amazing time together. We had similar backgrounds (MBA, finance jobs, Delhi upbringing), and common thought process - valuing physical activity and discipline, intellectual inclination, reserved disposition, inherent good-naturedness, and a balanced approach to risk and caution. So there was no disagreement on any topic, we would largely concur on most things. (At one point NS got slightly irritated with my over-modesty and cynicism but that was it) Each of was also individually self-absorbed, something which the others understood, so there was rarely any crossing of boundaries. In fact things are more likely to remain unsaid, rather than breaching walls of propriety.
As is mostly the case, jokes developed which ran throughout the trek. They were mostly of the nature I call goofy fun. (quoting the best one - at Jalouta when we were asked to exercise caution while venturing out of tent at night because there might be foxes from the jungle, our reply was: “we don’t need to fear foxes, hum toh cheetey hain”. The expression stuck and is now part of folklore) Despite being juvenile, they were symptomatic of camaraderie which had developed. But keeping the humour aside, there was a genuine feeling amongst us and we felt also amongst the other trekkers and Yash that we three were capable trekkers. Our common half marathon exploits gave us confidence in our fitness. We were no-nonsense trekkers who minded our own business, did not have too much fuss with anything, required hardly any help or inputs, showed up on time and completed the trek. Mostly we found Yash and other guides leaving us to ourselves, which we took as their confidence in our capabilities. In fact on the day of the summit ascent, Yash would let us take on the steep climb ourselves.
Asocial or Unsocial ??
Going in a close knit group of us three meant that we were also mostly closed to other interactions. Also, all three of us had reserved personalities, something which NS contested half-heartedly. So within one-two days we found we were staying within ourselves. We did not venture much out of our collective cocoon because we didn’t need to and it went well with our personalities. Had any of us been alone we would have taken the effort to socialise - it would have required an effort but would also have meant blossoming of personalities. This was an issue which we three grappled with and debated amongst ourselves a lot, giving reasons why we did not develop any warmth with anybody. In sharp contrast, the other 20 had developed some relationships from starting off as strangers.
Being as intellectually inclined as we were, we could identify the reasons, though did not do much to address them. By nature we were not too social, we valued effort with results and since opening up to others was an effort which for us had limited value on this trip, we stayed uninvested. And our skills were more in intellectual discussion rather than small talk, we would be uninteresting to most people. Example would be P explaining the battery life of the headlamp which would bore most people. In contrast most others would crack jokes, get personal seamlessly, or take active interest in people - all of which did not come naturally to us. There were many instances of these, but the stark one was during the third evening when we did not enter the dining tent during the evening where all assembled and played games. Instead we chose to stay out, wandering the areas around the campsites. While we liked wandering like this, on that occasion, we were avoiding interaction with a large group, so much so that we even skipped the evening soup - we were too nervous to enter the tent when all would notice us entering so late. Over time we made peace with this - we could not change ourselves and it was too short a time to mend bridges. So we remained a disparate sub-group. Individually we had made efforts to mingle with some members, but the fact that it was an effort proves the point.
It was the debriefing session which made us re-ponder this issue. Debriefing involved each member addressing the entire group, sharing experiences and feelings. This session again showed how far we were from the group - while all others had some personal interactions to share and saw enthusiastic response from the group, nothing of this sort happened with us three. It made all of us rethink, mostly individually. Immediately after the session when P and I were walking, he broached the topic. He mentioned how troubled he felt and even NS had shared similar thoughts - that we are so introverted, that the four aged uncles were so gregarious and blended so smoothly. That we had been shamefully un-social throughout the trip, that there was an envy for the others and reproach for self. I could argue and reason, as I always do, but inside I held similar feelings. Personally I have been conscious of my inability to strike quick rapport, to do small talk, to generate bonhomie, to have positive vibes. Rather than twisting and turning around this, I have made peace with this. I have accepted that this is the way I am, instead of trying to change myself, which is too much effort.
Our disappointment in ourselves flowed from the debriefing session into the night when we surreptitiously slipped out of the room where all were settling in for a night of dancing and games. Even before we were feeling like outsiders, forcibly playing a card game, deigning it to be below us. But the nervousness stretched too far when the dancing began and we retreated, individually, meaning that we were on similar wavelength without explicit communication. We spent time walking in open and chatting up on the bunk beds. I felt awful when Dev and Subhash came to the dorm to ask us to join the fun but we did not. All of us jostled with the feeling of longing and helplessness.
Another disappointment from the debriefing session was that I realised how average I am as a public speaker. P and NS were no better. And we are all MBAs from prestigious institutes standing before a gathering with lesser education or exposure than us. But that was not what mattered. Our education had only prepared us to speak on specific topics, and that too with a degree of detachment or downright fabrication. Here people were speaking from heart, sharing what they genuinely felt and experienced. That is why they sounded effortless and refreshing and connected with the audience. Somebody was saying sorry, somebody was apologising without saying sorry, most were saying thank you, most were elated with the experiences, some shared their experiences before coming here, some shared the troubles they faced, some shared their learnings, some shared their wisdom, most of them hugged the trekking team warmly. We three were contrived and sore.
Other members
We were a group of 23 people with diversity across age, region, culture, gender. There were people from Delhi, Mumbai, Chandigarh, Hyderabad, Bangalore and Chennai. The heart of the group turned out to be four gentlemen from Panchkula/Chandigarh. All of them were 50+ and each had a distinct personality. One was sophisticated, one was rustic, one had an elderly charm and wit, and one had a quiet wisdom. Three of them were very fit, indeed one was a cop and had a surprisingly lean and fit physique. These four were the most interactive and social, and ended up making rapport with the entire group (leaving us three of course) bay way of their wit, charm or just genuine interest in others. They had brought stuff to gift away for everyone (chocolates and alcohol). They regaled all during the debriefing and even the trekking team was enamoured with them. They had a long, elongated farewell, giving the feeling that they actually did not feel like going (Sanjeet came to the dorm to make sure he did not miss saying goodbye to anybody including myself). On most occasions I would focus on leaving on time as there is a long journey ahead, but these guys did not care. What a cynic like may call false sentimentality, seemed genuine in their case.
I think we three were the only ones in 30s, neither past nor future, the most confused. We did not have the clear-headedness of either the cocky, arrogant youth or of the wise old age. There was another group of three which looked to be 30s, including a couple. They were jovial and easy going Gujjus. In fact the couple was the best people in the whole group - relaxed, enjoying but not overtly expressive or loud, spending time alone as well as chatting with everyone, mixing effortlessly and confidently, and willing to help everyone (I noticed the guy once offering to buy someone’s utensil saying his hands are already wet).
The remaining 13 were mostly in their 20s. Most of them were memorable in their own right - some for their capabilities and some for their imbecility. The guys from Chennai were fun. Arjun was a bulky figure with amazing dancing moves. Most of the girls fell in the high-on-talk-low-on-capability category for me, I approved of only two who were very competent. But it was a good hearted group. Nobody was a downright nuisance, troubling or vicious. And despite the airs, everybody was largely grounded. Circumstances might have forced them to be - everyone had to sit on floor to eat, wash own utensils, make do with loo arrangements, start early, slog out in fatigue etc.
Another member who stood out for us, although belatedly was Dhaval. He had a sophisticated, aloof air about him, coming as he did from Bangalore. I was surprised to learn later that he was a Gujju. He mostly kept to himself, comfortable with being alone, clicking photos, capable and all. Yet he mixed in the group when opportunity came - singing an English song with skill and dancing on the last night with ease. We had not interacted with him even though he was in the bus while starting the trip, but on the return leg, we got to know more about him - a bachelor of 27, chartered accountant, played guitar with gigs in Bangalore, followed English music and films, or lesser heard Indipop, liked to booze and non-veg, travelled a lot, lived life to the fullest. In all, a guy we felt was our equal in cool/cheetah quotient.
Yash & others
Yash was our trek leader. My first impression of him was not great. As soon as I got down from the bus at Naitwar, I exclaimed where do we have to go and this guy who smiled and said ‘we will show’, I thought was a support staff. But soon he acquired the leadership role. The briefing session was a revelation. When the team (Yash, Dev, Subhash) initially introduced themselves, I was dismayed to see they had limited experience. None of them had been with IH for even a year and their trainings appeared inadequate. But by the end of the trek, I was mighty impressed with all of them, a learning for me to not always go by the resume.
During the briefing, Yash came across as smart, articulate and confident. His memorable lines were: “I will ensure you do not get a scratch during the trek”, and “For the next few days, consider me to be your father, mother, brother, sister, husband, wife or whatever.” Over the duration of the trek, he emerged as the alpha-male of the group. There were many skills to appreciate. He was in control throughout. People remember him for the calls he made out to all the tents to wake up or come for chow, but to me those were nothing - I felt he did not need to do all that.
He was especially active during the summit trek asking everybody not to stop lest they catch cold. Otherwise he mostly moved in shadows. He maintained the perfect balance of being there when one needed him, but not forcing his presence. Many a times he would appear and disappear during the trek, and I never saw him having his meal. And he would not mingle a lot during the evening social sessions, keeping largely to himself. I presume that being a trek leader or trek guide is a profile requiring a wide gamut of skills. I asked Yash whether he feels any stress or pressure being responsible for the life and well being of so many people in such tough conditions with limited scope of external help. He replied he felt prepared because of his training. And he was humble, calling out everybody for food, helping people to leave for the trek on time, repairing the zipper of our tent twice etc.
I somehow believe that the team discussed amongst themselves on how to go about each day of trekking, about do’s and dont’s, about profiling each member, who needed support and who did not, about the possible risks and precautions to take etc. Or a large part of it came to them naturally out of experience. I am sure most people were especially impressed with Yash’s fitness (NS surely was) during the push-ups session at Juda ka Talab. I expected him to have this level of fitness given his trekking experiences and training, and the fact that I had had a discussion with him the day before on how to be fitter for trekking. Still I was impressed by his skills. At Sankri he further came across as a cool dude, in casual clothes, chatting easily, seeing everybody off.
Dev and Subhash too were great folks. Both of them had their cool quotients, which did not come from great material wealth or gadgets but from being good at what they did and their light heartedness. They were essentially sons of hills and very comfortable here, something the rest of us, more materially endowed, were not. Dev mentioned he could do the entire trek in one day (and had done so more than 20 times). Subhash mentioned that he once transported 3-4 backpacks between campsites. They had innate strength which did not show in muscles. And on top of it, they were great fun, chatting, singing, dancing, laughing. And it did not seem contrived or forced. They were genuinely happy-go-lucky people, again possibly because they loved their surroundings.
With Dev, the briefings were fun. He would start with ‘Hello, khana khaya sabne’. (Arjun did a great enactment of Dev’s gestures). He would try to keep a stern tone and to reprimand us for being slow and not showing interest in the trail. He had the habit of lengthening the argument, bringing in his feelings, and thoughts. I wondered why Yash always brought him forward to give the briefings - to develop him or because Dev was better versed with the trail.
All three seemed to love what they were doing and they had a seemingly good life - clear air, clean food, clean water, open mountains, easy going routine, nice people and a degree of detachment from the humdrum of life and materiality. All this showed in their disposition and health. I wondered how much money these guys made (the materialistic compass in me refusing to budge) and thought sadly ‘look at these guys, working hard, genuinely making people happy and yet would not be earning a fraction of what a person like me earns. What a shame.’
About Offloading and homogenising trekking
Offloading was a facility by IH wherein a trekker can opt to give the backpack to be transported to the next campsite on mules. This gives trekking opportunity to people who are not confident about carrying the weight. I too had signed up for offloading and immediately got a mail from IH dissuading me. The argument was that true trekking involves carrying own stuff and IH wanted to promote this.
P and NS were always convinced about carrying their backpacks. And so were most others, even three out of the four 50+’s carried their backpacks. But then there were a few girls who had considered offloading as a means to travel in luxury. In addition there was one girl who was totally unfit to do a trek but was made to complete with hand-holding, literally, by Subhash. I found these instances despicable. I had thought of trekking as a serious endeavour which required practise, skill and preparation. It was not supposed to be for those who were not willing to put in this effort. IH had specifically mentioned the physical fitness required to be able to do this trek, something which I had taken seriously. In addition, trekking does not mean luxury but frugality, packing as light as possible and relying on resourcefulness. For this also IH had spelt out the maximum stuff one should carry. IH even had policies such as sending down somebody who could not keep pace with the group, and not accepting backpacks beyond certain weight and dimensions.
But in the group there were violations of both these prerequisites. Somebody had just showed up unfit and then expected to be carried. And some had decided to pack for the trek like they would trek for a marriage - I saw backpacks almost twice the size of mine - and offload the same. This is my basic grievance with most things nowadays - dumbing down for the masses. In the name of anti-elitism, increasingly the society is democratising everything which requires effort. No longer is any discipline a preserve of only those who are willing to put in the effort or make the sacrifice. Instead of requiring people to pull up, we are pulling down the discipline to suit their non-existent capabilities. And this extends to not just trekking but many others. But all this just undermines those putting in serious effort.
Photography
One issue that I come across in every holiday is around photography. From my first major holiday to Europe in 2006 to this day, it has been an albatross for me. I am not a big fan of clicking photos incessantly, something which makes me an antithesis of almost everyone. P with whom I have gone on multiple trips hates me for it. SJ has given up her love for photos to accommodate me.
My aversion for photography is due to many reasons - first up constantly looking to click photos breaks the focus on the place, or feeling the place. Second it takes up precious time when there is a lot to cover. Third I feel putting yourself in the middle of every scene, or background in a way disrespects or undermines it. What I have come to see is more important than seeing myself in that setting. This is more to impress others than to express love for the place. I agree that one would like to capture oneself in a beautiful place or adventurous position, but a few photos can achieve that purpose. I detest the inherent vanity in senseless posing. The fourth reason is that after a point, most sceneries look similar and multiple iterations of similar background is futile. Senseless clicking is just to compensate quality with quantity. Fifth and last reason is that in my experience people seldom go back to look at the photos clicked in the past. Or most times the average photography skills mean that the photos do not capture the beauty that one sees with naked eye and wished to capture. On looking back, the photos seem uninspiring and mundane. For this reason, I feel more like capturing the scenery in my mind and heart than on camera. I am more interested in absorbing it instead of trying to photograph it. There is a nice scene in the movie The Namesake where Irfan Khan’s character goes to a place with his son and on reaching there the son exclaims that they have forgotten to bring their camera. Irfan Khan responds something to the effect: ‘So son, now we will have to capture and store it in our mind.’
Despite my thoughts, I like it when somebody shows photos of interesting places and poses. I like the excitement and envy such photos create. I also feel that I should have similar photo. But I feel contrived to ask somebody to click my photo, essentially because I do not do that for others. In fact I discourage it and rarely carry a camera myself. Thus I am mostly in a dilemma. I do not like when people around me waste time clicking photos, and I do not like the vanity. At the same time I miss when I do not have any memory of some special place or person or thing or time and wish I had been lesser irritant.
One Disappointment
Amongst the many positives, there is one blemish of this trek, and it is to do with one of my objectives of the trek. When I had mentioned about going on a tough trek to a friend, she had said: “So now you would return from the trek with clarity, your mid-life crisis resolved.” I had laughed her off but I had expected something similar. I had expected solitude, silence in mind, deeper and clearer introspection. I had the opportunity but I could not achieve these. I remained engrossed in the routine humdrum. I feel I could not harness the strength, purity, and peace that was all around me. I could not silence the numerous, loud, conflicting, irritating voices in my head.
Victory on many fronts - life ahead
I have returned from the trek with my mind in a haze. Upfront, there was the thrill of achieving a target without any hiccup. Of having done something which was physically tough and doing it at my terms. I now have hunger for more. My mind is already on undertaking a more difficult, longer trek just to push myself further and overcome the minor issues I faced.
I realised that my body, which is keep suspecting, is not as frail as I believe it to be. I need to be more trustworthy of my innate strength, which I now believe I have as much as the any normal guy. Most of the weaknesses that I associate with the body are more weaknesses of the mind. This is a mind-over-matter barrier I need to overcome and this trip has been a big morale-booster. I always considered myself to have poor tolerance to cold food/water lest I would develop cold or sore throat. But during the trek, despite drinking cold water throughout I was fit. In fact I returned from the trek much fitter and happier - one week of good food, good air and daily physical rigour had done wonders. I had lost some weight and was in a better frame of mind when I returned. Of course, before the city life pulls you back. It was an enriching experience. An important part of this experience was not having any connectivity to the world. There was no mobile signal for six days - so nobody to reach out to, no messages, no emails. Complete silence. I would like to believe I have come back a slightly changed man - with better equilibrium, more confidence and more peace.
All this made me love this mountain life so much. I have been wondering about leaving a city like Delhi with its poor lifestyle, air, water, food, people, attitude, and endless stress. Increasingly I find little value in this city, in the life I currently live, in the endless, senseless craving of material comforts and money. I cannot escape the feeling of futility in what people around me are doing, in the vacuousness of soul and purpose. Mountains gave a beautiful alternative. I know I am basing these judgement one limited observations, and that most places look great as tourist, that no place is without its challenges. Still I felt so much alive in mountains. People there have no option but to live with cooperation, because competition can be fatal when one is facing the natural elements. Seeing nature in its full glory and scale is a humbling experience. It awes you, keeps you measured and true. There was a profundity in the simplicity which I loved.
Will I be able to live in such an environment permanently? I am not sure, but I would like to go back, taste it again. Those in our group for whom Kedarkantha was their second or third trek said: “Mountains call you”. Yash had said “You have to respect the mountains only then they let you climb them.” Back in the city, I am starting to feel this animate version of the mountain. I can feel the Kedarkantha peak talking to me.
