A Snowy Trek through the lower Himalayas

7-9 February 2012

A Snowy Trek through the lower Himalayas

It was a four hour drive from from Bilaspur to the mountainous location of our first campsite.  The first portion of the ride was on a well-paved highway that ran along a river below.  After about 2 hours, we turned off the highway onto a dirt road the rose steeply up the mountain.  Our caravan of cars climbed up the switchback roads under the shadow of tall pine trees.  The views became more and more beautiful as we rose higher until finally we could just make out massive snow-capped mountains in the distance.  

The cars pulled off the road on the top of a mountain ridge.  We could see the trucks of the kitchen and housing staff already unloaded.  It was a short hike down a steep hill to the campsite.  While we had been driving to the site, the rest of the staff had created a small village of tents.  There was a kitchen and food preparation tent where the men were already busy chopping vegetables and making chapatti bread for lunch.   Next door to the food tent was a dining tent with a propane powered furnace in the middle.  Past two canvas shower tents we found a cluster of yellow LL Bean tents.  Beth and I chose a tent in the sunshine.  From the thick tree cover around the campsite, it was hard to see the mountains around us.

After lunch a group of us took a walk down the road to explore the area or perhaps find a trail for hiking.  We found a narrow trail that veered off the road and appeared to lead to a small rustic village below.  We passed by small one room houses made of clay walls and thatched roofs with cows tied to the sides.  The cows stared blanking and carelessly at us as we continued on.

There was a two-story building further down the trail where we encountered a family.  The grandmother was hanging out in the front patio with the children while the mother worked with the cows in the back.  The children stared inquisitively at us, hesitant and timid.  Their faces and hands were brown and dirty, their nosed crusted with snot, they wore tattered clothing and sandals on their feet despite the cold.  Brett and Nick started playing with the kids, tickling them, fooling around.  Their shyness quickly evaporated and more children came out of the neighboring houses.  The grandmother brought out a tray of steaming cups of chai for us to drink.   

As we walked further into the village of just 250 people, we amassed quite a following of children until we had at least a dozen.  They led us through the tiny town that was perched on a mountain ridge; there were gorgeous views of the valleys on either side.  We passed by rustic farm houses made of stones with hay roofs.  There were a few small two-story apartment buildings that were painted in bright colors.  Goats, sheep and cows would intermittently walk out in front of us.  The villagers stood outside their door staring at the foreigners who passed through their small town.  Avi, one of the Hindi speakers in our group, told us that the villagers hadn't seen any white people in their town for many years.   

One side of the mountain was covered in terraced fields.  There was nothing but grass growing presently due to the winter season.  We followed a narrow concrete trail through the fields.  Further down below there were workers creating more terraces; they were literally using hammers and pick-axes to break up the mountainside.  

As we neared the end of the village, a woman in a house yelled to the children in Hindi, it was clear that she was telling them to stop walking and go back to the center of the village. The children complied along with the rest of our group.  Brett and I continued to walk a bit further.  We came along a group of three women who were sitting in a circle breaking up large rocks into small stones with tiny pick-axes.  There were two cows tied up next to them and a few goats scurried at their feet.  They giggled as we took photographs of them.  I encouraged Brett to try his hand at rock-breaking.  He motioned for the hammer; the woman smiled broadly and handed it over, laughing.  Brett struggled to get into a comfortable kneeling position and then got to work on the to rocks.  It was harder than it looked.  The women all had a good hard laugh at him, I couldn't help but to laugh along too.  

When we got back to the main square of the village, we found Avi and the others who had taught the village children how to play Duck, Duck, Goose.  The kids caught on fast and before long there was a big game going with some of the adults from our group joining in too.  After they tired of Duck, Duck, Goose, we played Red Light/Green Light and Freeze Tag.  The rest of the villagers came to watch the spectacle while they drank chai, swatted at their livestock, or knitted sweaters.  We stayed and played in the village until the air became distinctly colder and we could see our own breath.  

By the time we made it back it camp, the sun was down and the air was crisp.  The sounds and smells of dinner preparations wafted out  of the kitchen tent.  I could hear the cooks slapping dough back and forth between their hands as they prepared tonight's chapatti.  It was warm inside the dining tent where most of the group was circled around the furnace for warmth and the others were playing a card game.  After a delicious dinner, we played some camping games to pass the time until we went to bed.  It was cold in the tents that night and I wore most of the warm clothes I had.

I woke up sometime around 4am when my bladder just couldn't hold it any longer.  I had heard rain drops hitting our tent earlier in the night, an that was preceded by thunder, so I was surprised to find about 2 inches of snow on the ground when I walked out of the tent. 

A few hours later when we emerged to start our day, there were about 4 inches of snow on the ground and it was still falling steadily in big wet flakes.  When the Australians, Caroline, Beth, and Karen came out of the tents they squealed with delight as it was the first time in their lives that they had ever seen real falling snow.  

We warmed ourselves in the dining tent with multiple cups of tea and a big hot breakfast.  Ravi came and announced that we would be canceling clinic due to the weather.  We were supposed to about 12km up the mountain to work in a clinic that would serve this remote population.  With the inclement weather, not only would the village at a higher elevation be difficult to access, but the villagers would not be likely to trek that long distance in the snow.

The branches of the pine trees were heavy with wet snow as we all set off for a morning hike.  There was snowman-building and a snowball fight along the way.  The following night, a few of the guys had taken a hike up to a Hindu temple on a mountain ridge otherwise the path would have been impossible to find.  They led our entire group of 18 to the trail that snaked upwards.  I quickly became hot in all of my layers as we made our way up. 

By the time we reached the summit, it was difficult to even seen the temple under all of the snow that continued to accumulate.  We all took some photos while we waited for the stragglers of the group to make their way up.  The entire valley below us was beautifully covered in snow.  

To get back to the campsite, we took a different path which was quite a bit steeper.  As the hill became sheer, most of us lost our footing and tumbled down the slope.  I have a good sized bruise on my right elbow and butt cheek to prove it.  The snow finally stopped falling on the way and the sky turned brilliant blue.  We finally emerged on the main road and already the snow was turning to slush.  Further downhill there was a large truck stuck in the ice.  Men were using dirt shovels and other random tools to try to clear the path for the truck to continue on.  Two guys tried to make it up the hill in a tiny hatchback car that probably weighed all of 300lbs itself.  When the driver couldn't manage to make it up the hill driving forward, he did a K-turn and attempted to go up the switchback road with no guardrails in reverse.  

Over our lunch break at the campsite, we warmed up around the furnace with hot food and tea before setting off on another hike.  This time about half a dozen of us set out on a 10K walk to the next town further up the mountain.  The sun was out and it was actually quite pleasant as we made our way up hill.  It was already apparent that the snow at lower elevations had all but melted away but where we were there was at least 4 inches still on the ground. 

On the way up, we passed through a few tiny villages.  The inhabitants were mostly outdoors already, but when they saw us, they came out into the street.  They stared curiously at us and we took pictures of them.  They were not shy about posing for the camera and were in fact excited to look on the camera displays to view their photos.  A few of the women even tried to instigate a snowball fight while others shyly watched from the side-line while continuing their knitting.  A few men sat outside a shop playing a heated game of cards.  At another store front we saw a man working on a loom making a traditional shawl.  He used both his hands and bare feet to work the loom.  An elderly man with a deeply wrinkled face sat in front of the loom, winding string around a spool.  He stopped working while we were there to ogle the westerners.

Although these towns were small and simple with meager and rustic homes, they were perched on the ridge of a mountain with amazing views at all angles.  If I had to be a peasant in a developing country, I would at least be glad to live in the mountains.  

As we neared the main village, the sun started to get low in the sky and the temperature began to drop.  We decided it was probably about time we turned around to head back to camp before it was too dark to see.   The downhill trip took about half the time and we made it back to our cozy campsite just as the sun set.  The stars were shining brightly overhead. 

The following day we attended to a clinic in a village called Saroa which was an 8km walk from our campsite.  We all decided to commute on foot and it was quite a vigorous hike but the sights along the way were fascinating.  We saw farmers bringing containers of fresh milk to large receptacles on the road side where they would be picked up and brought to a processing center.  There were women herding their cows and children carrying baby goats.  

The hike back home from the clinic was pretty challenging as it was about an hour of steep steps the entire way.  There was a little bit of evening traffic as the villagers came home from work.  People who looked to be in their 60s or 70s were walking up the steep steps with us as they carried large shovels or bundles of wood on their backs. They women giggled when they saw us and followed close by.  One women of about 50 years of age started throwing snowballs at us, laughing and playfully taunting a fight.  Then she invited us in for tea.  We continued on. 

When we returned to the village square where we'd played games with the children the prior day, we were greeted by some faces we had seen before, both at clinic and in the village.  We stood around in the square, watching the activities of the day's end.  Goats jumped through the square, children played, women fetched water.  A village women went around serving hot chai to us and to a few of the elder men.  We found Nick and Brett further uphill, horsing around with half a dozen children.  They had taught them some American songs and the children were singing and laughing.  You could tell they were sad to see us all go, especially Nick and Brett. I was impressed with the people we encountered in this region.  They had been the friendliest and most gracious of hosts, and even if we spoke no common language, the connection was still tangible. These villagers had few material possessions and amenities, but they were clearly happier than most of us.  It was easy to sense the strong community bond within the small villages where it was apparent that everyone looked after each other.  I don't mean to glorify their existence, as it was clear that they lived hand-to-mouth with only but a few pairs of clothes, working hard labor, but they seemed not to take life too seriously still.  They should serve as a lesson to all of us in the western world.