Fast and Furious at Hampta Pass - Day 2

Read here about the Day 1 story

The second day started abominably. Although the weather was clear as crystal, we missed both the sunrise and our planned alpine start by getting out of the sleeping bags at 8am. Too late by Himalayan standards. By the time we wound up our tent and got moving, it was 9 already. The sun was shining bright and the Hampta/Rani nullah gurgled gleefully through the wide, open valley carpeted by viridescent post monsoon pastures dotted with flocks of gaddi sheep. Many sheep on the way obliged us by posing for the photographs taking time out from the grazing business. We, the guests here, were floored with the humility!

We picked up our sacks and got going. The valley was wide and the rivulet broke into several streams turning the valley floor into nothing more than a marsh. Onkar took the more direct and straightforward route through the middle of the bed of the nullah and instantly regretted it, with his shoes sinking to the ankle in mud. I, on the other hand, moved more cautiously along the true right bank of the stream and kept going up and down the undulating terrain gently rising from about 3600m at Baloo ka Gera to 3900m till the base of the pass where it steepened up till 4300m to the pass.

Crisp morning at BKG looking towards the pass

But, the happiness of being in such pristine surroundings, listening to the sounds of the heaven and working our way towards the goal, was short lived. Few moments of bliss bless us here and there and never seem to last longer. But isn't that why we go on an adventure, for those few moments of bliss!

We were about an hour and a half into the route when it started. My back started hurting like hell and I just couldn’t move. As I saw Onkar march past into oblivion, I was left walking at a snail’s pace. The heavy backpack I carried offered no respite and I used all tricks to reduce the weight but to no avail. I wore the full array of my warm clothes all up to the heavy, warm and rainproof jacket I had. Big mistake carrying that jacket though. To add to the woes, it started drizzling continuously with an occasional sleet shower. While the rain just got stronger, my back just wouldn’t stop hurting. The pain was unbearable and over-enthusiasm of last day combined with a back injury I had sustained more than a decade ago apparently aggravated the pain in my upper back. And yet, I resolved to walk through the pain, at least for a short while to see if it subsided once I warmed up sufficiently.

Taking umpteen rest breaks, I kept moving slowly while Onkar and I communicated through whistles and shouting. I did not lose sight of him since I was walking a little higher up on the bank but the distance between us just kept increasing and more than once he had to stop and wait for me, for long. All this while I struggled through other problems like fogging of my specs, profuse sweating because I wore all the warm clothes and the constant risk of slipping because of the muddy and rocky terrain coupled with my poor sphere of vision owing to the bags hanging on both sides of my body. The rain was relentless in its pounding now. It is these practical problems in climbing and trekking that you learn so closely about when you decide to venture into an adventure yourself, go where you’ve never been to and do what you’ve never done before. And topping these every time you go to a new adventure or take up a new challenge in the mountains pushes you to outdo yourself and test your limits every single time. That’s why we go to the mountains time and time again!

Lots of Gaddi sheep dotted the verdant pastures

Did you hear the news? The dogs are dead!

Right then, I felt the universe was conspiring against me to not allow us to finish the trek today as planned. I had trained pretty hard for this trip and the several uphill kilometers I regularly walked with 20kg load on my back just flashed back through my head. They seemingly meant nothing compared to the tough challenges a very moderate trek dished us with. It’s, indeed, always further than it looks, higher than it looks and more difficult than it looks. The objective seemed far and my strength seemed to diminish rapidly. I just couldn’t fathom why this happened and after reaching Ratan Thoy, a small, flat camping area only a few kilometers from BKG, with enough space for 4-5 tents, I just had to throw in the towel.

Onkar asked grimly if it was at all possible to go on but I just couldn’t. The pass was still some distance away, at least a couple of hours, and the climb from here was very steep straight up. Add to that the very long downhill walk to Chhatru, I thought it was just impossible to finish it today at this speed. There was even a danger of getting stranded somewhere in between. We stumbled upon a few Gaddi shepherds camped here, whom I could most definitely feel sniggering at the weary selves that we presented. As a last straw of hope, we tried to convince them to help us carry our packs on their mules, since they planned to cross the pass soon. Unsurprisingly, they asked for a fortune and rather prudently, we did not give in and decided to camp there for the night. Even they would not to be able to go anywhere that day! It was about 4000m and the valley had narrowed down considerably. The site was just above the head of the glacier and, as we discovered the next day, right at the base of the pass. A small steady stream flew nearby that served as our water source. I was so weary that I didn't even click any pictures that day, just resigned to my fate. (maybe that's why I'm putting up this morning picture again!)

Ratan Thoy is near the ice patch seen in the middle

It was a couple of hours past noon and the drizzle had turned into heavy rain by now, as it often does in the afternoons in mountains. I hastily unpacked the tent and put it up, rather shabbily, while Onkar arranged some water. It was extremely disappointing not to be able to do what we came for but as I said earlier, one can only do things they are physically fit enough to do. I decided to postpone any other activity and just lay down inside my sleeping bag, trying to put my aching back to rest. After a while of twisting and turning inside the most lavish of beds one could muster at this altitude, I could manage to sleep for a couple of hours while Onkar took care of the goings on in the tent, namely cooking and unpacking.

I woke up to the heavy downpour that had been beating continuously and had, in fact, leaked inside. I really did do a shoddy job at pitching the tent. We had small puddles of rainwater inside the tent and were quick to shift the blame to “Karan Garments”, the trekking equipment shop in Manali that had apparently sold us a leaky tent, although in reality, however, it had more to do with the loose pegs and strings than anything else.

After a hearty meal of, what else, noodle soup of course, we drifted away to sleep after covering ourselves and our stuff with our ponchos, bought at a hefty premium in Manali. All the while I found it fascinating how all the jobs in the world could be done while lying inside a tent, not even getting up. A practice quite religiously followed by Onkar and I on our adventures.

 The day hadn’t turned out to be as expected and we could only take lessons from it and plan to move forward. We didn’t really have a long way to go next day, or so we thought, yet decided to move out as soon as possible in the morning, provided the rains stop during the night.

The next day turned out to be quite wonderful and full of adventure and the trail ahead was pleasing yet challenging and we were definitely up for the challenge. More about the last day in the next post.

Part 3 of the series is here.