Rupin Pass: Of Beauty, Difficulty and Satisfaction!
For sights worth seeing
Of Valleys and Streams
Of Mountains and Clouds
Where the Journey becomes the Reward
Stunned and Silent in a Snowy Abode
There was a sense of familiarity as I entered the ISBT at Kashmere Gate in Delhi. This was where it had all begun in 2016, with my first Himlayan trek - to "Har Ki Doon". Here I was, eight years later, on my sixth adventure in the Himalayas.
That first trek was also the harbinger of multiple travel escapades in India and a few of them abroad. Travel, I've always believed, touches you in multiple ways. Be it inspiration from nature or appreciation for man-made creations that have pushed the limits of human potential; Travels that reek of luxury or travels that revel in our necessity for adaptation; Travels where you're journeying outward and inward at the same time.
Moving into an air-conditioned bus after braving fifteen minutes of heat on a Delhi summer day was enough to help me pen those lines above, in my journal. A nine and half hour journey lay ahead of me. And I had plenty of things to do - try to read, try to "not think", stay away from the phone for a length of time and get a glimpse of Delhi, Haryana, Punjab and Himachal!
Day 1: Simla - Bawta - 7700 ft
We started from Simla at around 7 AM in the morning. This would be a nine hour drive,at least. We were 21 of us split into three groups in three vehicles. The first day of the trek is when you try to find your coterie - a bunch of people with whom you'll possibly spend a major chunk of your trek. I seemed to have found mine that morning - with a bunch of people from Bengaluru, a man of wisdom from Kolkata and a civil engineer from Hyderabad.
We stopped for breakfast a couple of hours later and I found the appetite and the courage to try the "Siddu", a local dish of the Himachal that had been recommended strongly by friends back home. The vehicle then ambled across the serpentine roads of the hills, as we tried to get to know each other in between power naps. The hills were covered with apple and cherry orchards. One interesting aspect was the tree-tops that were covered by tarpaulin-like material, possibly to protect the fruits from birds (inputs on this aspect welcome).
The journey was rather longish and most of us dreaded the second half - which was supposed to be a Kachcha road. And indeed, our patience was tested post lunch. Our driver had been throwing tantrums since morning, that worsened in the afternoon and continued into the evening. A roadblock thanks to a landslide also brought in Murphy's law to the equation, even as we tried to find excitement in a bull-dozer drilling rocks and pushing them downhill to make a path for us.
After thirteen hours that seemed an eternity, we reached our homestay in Bawta by eight in the evening. To exacerbate our frustration, the walk to the homestay was another fifteen minutes. At the end of Day 1, we were already muttering about poor management -using corporate jargon that we had carried along with our backpacks. Up there, the mountains waited patiently for us, with jargon of their own.
Day 2: Bawta - Jhaka - 9000ft
We woke up the view of green hills that surround Bawta. It was a great morning for the first day of a trek, helping us stay boisterous. I could overhear plenty of suggestions and instructions being passed along by the leads and some of the more experienced trekkers in the group. Phew! 21 was a large group - considering my last two treks had under 10 people in the group. That was one reason why the leads insisted on a lot of discipline during the trek in terms of stoppages, distance between trekkers and the group behaving as one unit. And some of these rules would come in handy during the business end of the trek.
The initial part of the trek was on a muddy road, upto Jiskun - which is about 2km from Bawta. The clear skies and sunny morning meant that the day's hike was warm and sweaty. From Jiskun we followed a trail - where we finally felt we were entering the wilderness of the hills.
In the distance we could see bulldozers trying to drill through the hills and the rocks to pave way for a road that might be operational in a few years. There was the constant sound of drilling and rock-felling. It's always a conundrum for societies. Do you let these hills and mountains remain untouched, preserving their ecosystem? Or do you bring roads, vehicles and infrastructure from the urban world over time, partially losing the pristine ecosystem of thousands of years? The selfish side of me felt that these places should remain untouched. But then, should the people remain deprived of amenities - I kept wondering.
The first look at the "hanging village" of Jhaka provided some answers. It's called the hanging village because of its location at the edge of a hill. The village was not "remote" in a lot of ways. Wooden houses, mobile networks, electricity, constant water supply - it was simple and comfortable. I was surprised to see symbols of national parties and signs of some active campaigning from the recently concluded general elections.
Later that evening, most of us bonded over "Mafia" - a game that's extremely popular during group treks. A few rounds of the game evoked laughter, camaraderie, controversy and in yours truly, some stupidity as well. I earned the moniker "The Destroyer" that evening - and the name would last through the trek!
Day 3: Jhaka to Dandrayesh Thatch: 11700 ft
The day was the second toughest on the entire trek. We were to gain about 2700 ft in height and walk for 11 km in the effort. The day's trek started at 8. This was also the day of election results and a lot of us in the group were curious for snatches of information about the way the winds were blowing. Jhaka was the last village and source of information along the route. We realised we'd have to wait for a few days before we got our dope on the results.
We gained height in patches. Ascents followed by walks along a flat trail. The trees got taller - as we trekked, with pines and other conifers dominating the vegetation. We'd finally left the bulldozers behind. It was time for the typical silence in mountains, only punctuated by the chirping of birds that at most times remain invisible to the untrained eyes. Since this was a longish walk, I was able to put some distance between those ahead and those behind, hiking to a rhythm that was dictated by the silence.
The first sign of what the Rupin Pass trek offers differently, was visible about two hours into the trek, when we encountered our first snow patch. These are isolated patches of snow that remain after the surrounding snow has melted. For the next couple of days, crossing these snow patches would remain the most looked forward to and the most dreaded part of the trek at the same time.
Crossing the first one was rather easy and the location of the patch made it look extremely unique. Immediately after crossing the patch we were walking almost next to the Rupin river with its turquoise waters. We took our first break of the day at a Tapri along the river, one of the last such shops on the trek. Clouds gathered in the sky, indicating that the weather would soon be at the mercy of the mountains lording over us.
We stopped for lunch around one-thirty and our trek leads mentioned we were half-done after about five hours of trekking. The trail was slowly getting tougher and there were first signs of rain. I'd forgotten my poncho and didn't think of a rain cover for my day-pack during packing. It led to an unsavory exchange with the guides. Luckily, the doctor from Bengaluru helped me with a rain cover for the backpack. It solved half the problem. I'd brave the rains without a poncho if it got heavier.
The landscape opened up in all its glory for the next couple of hours till we reached the Dandrayesh Thatch. We entered a valley, with mountains on both sides and walking next to the Rupin river. The sun kept playing hide and seek from behind the clouds, with warmth enough to dry our clothes that had soaked up some rain. Our moods got better and crossing the snow patches seemed tricky yet fun. I kept looking back every few minutes and the same landscape appeared in multiple perspectives. What stood out for me, was a shepherd with his flock of more than 500 goats crossing the valley. I'd never seen such a herd! The goats dotted the valley, the black and white blending beautifully with the snow patches and the surrounding mountains. The guides kept hurrying us, warning us about the dangers of weather - but some of these sights were too surreal to ignore and just keep walking.
The skies opened up with purpose just before we reached the camp at the Thatch. There was thunder and lightning and instead of rain, it was hail. It was exciting - but with the precipitation getting intense and the wind stronger, we rushed to our first camp site on the trek. There would be plenty of time to appreciate the campsite on the acclimatization day that would follow - but for now, we hastily got into the tents and warmed ourselves up.
The kitchen staff was ready for us,with tea, soup and snacks - the Pani Puri was sheer surprise! The hail and wind did abate and as night took over, the sky was a canvas of stars. A lot of us took time post dinner to admire the night-sky. I snuggled into the sleeping bag for well-deserved rest. The day had blessed me with enough sights and adventure already!
Day 4: Acclimatization Day: Dandrayesh Thatch - 11700 ft
The morning was bright and sunny. The mountain toilets more welcoming than they were previous night. As I brushed and washed my face at the riverfront, I took time to take in the sights of the campsite. The lower, middle and upper waterfalls stood right in front of us, the mountain from where they cascaded forming a wall that we had to walk around, the following day. Numerous smaller water falls formed on mountains on either side and there were a few frozen ones as well.
The tents added to the beauty of the entire landscape, bringing a riot of red and yellow to the green, blue and white of nature. I could see every face in the camp light up as we reveled in the serenity of the campsite. Each of us spent the morning in different ways. Some spent it by the river, some of us went on a short hike around the site, photographing the site and ourselves along with the site seemed to be the favorite choice! We watched in awe as groups in front climbed over the middle waterfall en-route the next campsite, crossing the snow patches in a disciplined straight line, wearing their spikes and helmets. That would be our path as well!
As expected, the weather turned murky and it rained again in the afternoon. We were almost expecting this now. And even thankful. It would only mean that the next morning would be bright and sunny all over again and there would be one less factor to negotiate. The free afternoon meant some more games and an overload of snacks. When we started the trek, we never really wanted this rest day. But that day, we realised that it was a crucial break.The rest and acclimatization would hold us in good stead once we reached for 13000ft and above, over the next two days.
Day 5: Dandrayesh Thatch - Upper Waterfall Camp - 13300 ft:
Being wary of the weather, our guides had decided that the trek would start at 8 AM in the morning. The trek would be short. However, the altitude gain substantial. There was a slight element of technicality as most of us used micro-spikes for the first time. We had two huge snow patches to cross - both with substantial inclination. We were also provided helmets for protection against rockfall.
After a brief demonstration on how to use the spikes, we started off. Using equipment makes me clumsy and nervous. It was no different that day. I looked around to see how others were fitting the spikes on their shoes, sometimes helplessly looking at the guides with a plea for support. It was almost comic at times.
Twenty minutes into the hike, the first patch was in front of us. The guides forbid us from taking our phones out to click pictures. We hurriedly clicked a couple of them at the base of the patch and stowed our phones away. And then began our first major challenge on the trek. Even with the spikes, the patch was slippery. We planted our foot in the same spot as the hiker in front of us, as though it was assurance that we won't slip. The incline wasn't much of an issue up close, but if one of us slipped we were sure to take the ones behind us down the slope along with us.
We planted our trekking poles firmly for support, made sure our feet were sufficiently spaced to make room for the spikes, ensured atleast a couple of feet of distance from those ahead and in front. All of it while our guides egged us on saying the top of the patch was within reach. This was where, we realised, that sticking together as a group mattered. We could watch what the others were doing, the guides could control the group and there were little conversations of motivation that would help us with the next few metres.
While every step seemed to take a long time, we'd reached the top of the first patch in about an hour. The campsite was now a colored speck in the valley below. After some rest and hydration, we trekked to the second patch next to the upper waterfall. This seemed rather easy, after our experience in the first. We were reaching the 13k feet mark and the mountains seemed closer and more glorious from our vantage point.
The Upper Waterfall camp is nestled on a piece of flat ground at the edge of the waterfall. We could see multiple other camps at a lower height, next to the river at about 15 minutes distance. We were thankful that this camp was closest to the trail next morning. Come afternoon, hail pounded our tents for a good one hour. It looked ominous for a while, specially with the high wind speeds. Needless to say, we were all layered up. The tea and soup that evening lent so much warmth. And when the guides announced an early dinner at six thirty in the evening, the Summit Day beckoned all of us.
Day 6: Summit Day: Upper Waterfall Camp - Rupin Pass (15350ft) - Rontigad - (12300 ft)
We were up and about at 2 AM in the night. Most of us hit bed at seven, the previous evening, hoping to catch some sleep. I'm not sure I slept well - but was well rested. The sky wasn't exactly starry. There was no sign of rain thankfully, but a wind kept blowing making it a chilly morning. I brushed and washed my face, but couldn't make use of the toilet tents so early.
Mountain Maggi as breakfast at 3 AM was eminently palatable but I wasn't really hungry. Call it cold or nervousness or just the fact that it was too early in the morning. I was pre-occupied with my gaiters and the lack of a headlamp, that I planned to mitigate with my hand torch. The path that the guides had indicated last night was full of boulders and that we would be navigating them in the darkness wasn't something that enthused me. But, Rupin Pass lay five hours ahead of us. We were down to 19,from the original 21, attempting the Summit (a father-son duo had backed out in Jhaka, because of the father's ill health). All of us conscious about our shoes, trekking poles, electrolytes, dry fruits, headlamps and numerous little things that we felt might make a big difference. All of looked healthy without a hint of mountain sickness(unfortunately, a senior citizen from Bengaluru had to turn back midway on Summit day..so near yet so far).
At 3:45 AM in the morning, we set out. The next five hours were the most difficult in my limited experience as a trekker. We started climbing almost immediately through a patch of boulders, gaining height with every step. The darkness made it difficult and we had to rely constantly on the person trekking in front. The cold and the altitude added to the difficulty and we took a break every few minutes. The guides constantly egged us on, calling out our names individually and making sure we were okay.
About 45 minutes into the trek there was a particularly difficult stream crossing, of which no photograph exists. The stream was about 4 feet wide, but was flowing from a height into the gorge below. The guides immediately swung into action, placing boulders across the stream. Some of the boulders were stable; some were slippery; Just like us - some of us were confident, some of us slippery. One of the guides stood like a wall against the flow of the stream, guarding us from slipping into the gorge. A second one stood on our side and the third moved to the far end. We literally held each of their hands to make our way across. I fumbled on a couple of boulders and was nervous prompting one of the guides to yell "You need to be more confident and lose your fear" - wasn't that true in many areas of life, I wondered!
It took all of us a while - and by that I mean about 10 minutes - to recover from this crossing. It was by far the most dangerous moment on the trek thus far, considering the darkness, the slope and the slipping boulders. We were soon up on our feet, negotiating the trail all over again buoyed by the thinning darkness. About half an hour later, the first rays of the sun illuminated the peaks of the mountains opposite with an orange hue. Just the peaks - nothing more or less. It was again a moment that's etched in memory. We watch these in movies, on our screens. But to be there to watch it unfold in front of your eyes, is in a lot of ways, what you live for. It takes some pain, some grit, some perseverance and some blessings to get there - but to be there is a profound feeling of gratitude.
The morning ushered us into an abode of snow. Just white all around and beneath our feet as well. Peaks that were orangish-golden in the sunlight; a path that was white with a tinge of brown. It was still cold but we were all doing ok, as we walked in a single file on the snow covered path for another ninety minutes or so. Every now and then I took my gloves off to click pictures, knowing that my fingers would be numb by the time I put my hand in the gloves again.
It was seven thirty in the morning by the time we were face to face with the Rupin Gully. And just beyond it was the Rupin Pass. We watched the first trekkers of the day make their way across the gully and disappear behind the mountains. It gave us confidence. It made us curious. We were there to cross the Pass anyway. And there was no going back now. Spikes on, trekking poles in tow and most importantly with a sense of "this is what we are here for", we starting climbing the slope that led to the gully.
We started climbing left to the Rupin Gully and the Summit was visible for the first time. Trekkers who'd already made it were egging us on asking us to push ourselves in those final minutes. I would forever be grateful for a video made by one of those trekkers! Minutes away from the peak, one of the younger trekkers in our group panicked and started yelling for the guide. She was doing alright till then - but the moment overwhelmed her. With her feet firmly planted in snow, she called out for the guide, seeking desperate help. All she needed, it turned out, was that reassurance from the guide over the next few steps and she was at the Summit all by herself.
One hour of climbing the slope and the Gully, we were at the Summit!! The Rupin Pass opened to mesmerizing views of the Kinnar Kailash in the distance. We were feeling grateful for the safe climb, the sights and at the same time feeling validated, now that we were at the Summit. I sat down by myself for a while, just taking the moment in- something I didn't do last time and regret it till date. The views that lay ahead, the path we had just traversed, the sense of accomplishment. I hadn't expected the Rupin Pass trek to be "difficult" so to speak - but up there, it was a different feeling altogether.
Ofcourse, an elaborate photo-op ensued at the Summit. Solo pictures, group pictures, some with the Summit banner, some even with the national flag - it was the culmination of a lot of effort. And it is in these moments that the famous question I keep asking myself comes to mind: Is it the destination or the journey or the company?
Thirty minutes of jubilation later, we were promptly asked to start descending and make our way to Rontigad. I was amongst the first to start and promptly slipped and started sliding down the slope, quite by accident. And midway during the slide, I discovered the fun side of the whole thing and started shouting in excitement. It seemed to trigger the excitement of the group and the entire group started sliding the slope and enjoying the event.
We did that a second time a little later, faster and more deliberate. I'd always dreamed of walking in the snow for a length of time. And that day, I had the opportunity to do so for close to six hours. A snow covered path, mountains surrounding and nothing but a white canvas all around. While I continued to slip and stagger,I enjoyed every moment along with the nervousness that came with it!
The rest of the journey to Ronti Gad was largely event less. Thanks to the early morning start, most of us felt we were walking for an eternity. We finally reached our final camp on the trek at around four in the evening - meaning we'd walked for almost 12 hours, stoppages included. Ronti Gad is located at 12300 ft, but it still felt warm and comfortable. We spent the evening reflecting on the entire trek,taking turns to talk about our experience and our moments on the trek. Thanks to some quick thinking by the kitchen staff and guides, we even celebrated a birthday with a mountain-made cake.
There was some chatter during descent about how once the Summit is done, any trek loses its allure and the descent is more a formality. I disagree. I believe that a trek complete only once you descend safely and reach home in one piece. Rupin Pass had been kind enough to let us through without incident. We needed to make sure we do the remainder of the descent with due respect to the mountains.
Day 7: Rontigad - Sangla - Simla - 7467 ft - Epilogue
We woke up to a convocation of sorts. The guides presented all of us certificates for successful completion of the trek. There were some emotions, some nice words and a lot of mutual appreciation. We hiked for another two hours to reach a road head where vehicles awaited to take us back to Sangla.
Mobile networks that eluded us for the last four-five days made their way back into our lives with full force. Talking to loved ones, making sure everyone back home is doing ok, gathering news from the election results and the sheer dopamine rush of social media notifications took center-stage again.
Along with all other news, there was also news about trekkers from Karnataka who'd perished in Uttarakhand, caught in a blizzard while heading back from a trek. The news had caused panic amongst our families back home.
While we returned successfully post Summit, this news was and remains a bitter pill to swallow. Mountains can be meditative; Mountains can be humbling; Mountains can be inspiring; And yet.....
I reached home in Bengaluru a couple of days later. Added one more prayer flag to the collection. Rupin Pass is now done. What next?!!
- 30th June 2024
