Fast and Furious at Hampta Pass - Day 3

Read Part 1 of the series here
And Part 2 here

“Don’t even think of that”, I almost had to yell at Onkar who laughed gregariously as he entered the chilly glacial torrent. It was early afternoon and the melting ice turned it into a raging force impossible to withstand. There was a makeshift narrow pipe bridge some distance upstream. But Onkar felt particularly adventurous that day. Probably owing to the fact that we had just crossed the pass and got down in a very quick time. I reckoned it was impossible to ford the rage so strong, we had to shout at each other to be listened. A few tense yet funny moments ensued, where he pushed through a few uncertain steps, balancing the shoes, the bag and the trekking pole. After a scintillating Nataraja pose in the middle of the ice cold stream that lasted a mere few seconds, Onkar finally gave up. We moved upstream to use the eerie looking makeshift bridge. And thus the glacial torrent coming down from the mighty Indrasan was crossed at Shea Goru!

The scary looking bridge at Shea Goru

It rained lightly as we got up with the first rays of the sun that day. Flanked on two sides by huge rock walls and on another by the ridge of Hampta Pass, our cozy little camp site of Ratan Thoy bathed in the tangerine hue of the rising sun looked coy as ever. Yet, as we packed up and got going by about 7, the clouds had gathered and smeared the azure sky that panned the vista just moments ago. Although they looked harmlessly snow white, the possibility of early afternoon showers could never be ignored. We wanted to reach Chhatru as soon as possible to be able to catch any conveyance back to Manali the same day.

A little after Ratan Thoy, starting the day. The route from here circuits to the left and winds up through the narrow gully between the cliff and the ridge as seen here

I felt just fine and was relieved that my back pain was just an aberrance. We moved swiftly, circumventing the black ice from the Hampta glacier that was almost completely molten. The climb from here on was pretty steep and through umpteen gigantic boulders stacked on the top of each other. The going was strenuous but our acclimatization at about 5200m on the earlier trip to Mt. Yunam served us very well to negotiate the terrain and keep up the pace while carrying the heavy sacks. All the while the Dhauladhars loomed in the background and the biggest of them Hanuman Tibba, topping out at 5932m, struck an inviting pose. Project noted for time to come.

View of Dhauladhars looking back from the route. Notice the black ice which is just giving way. The glacier had melted almost completely

Hanuman Tibba (5932m) standing tall among the Dhauladhars

Onkar and I were separated by some distance because of taking different routes to the top. I tried taking the route I could see straight up and started climbing those rocks alone. A slightly chilly wind blew up and more than once I felt a snowflake landing on my face but poof it went before I could find a proof. The going was enjoyable and a fuzzy feeling of elation just engulfed me. It was 8 am on a glorious Thursday morning and I was out in the mountains doing what I loved the best. Imagine my alter life in city where I could have been sitting in a cab dragging myself to the everyday drudgery of a regular office day. There would be roaring traffic around. People honking and getting mad at each other. Maybe a driver would peek his mouth out of the window and spit the paan before getting back to the honking.

It was silence here. Not a sound. Not a hiss, not even a whiff. Nothing. All I heard was my own breathing and the rustling of my backpack. It was just I, and the mountain. All I wanted that moment was to take the next step and get across the next rock. Sucking in the crisp yet rare mountain air, one breathful at a time, just feeling wonderful in the incredulously beautiful place and situation I was in, thanked my fortunes for getting me here. I was in a sheer state of bliss and moved up the steep boulder lined gully at a decent pace occasionally connecting with Onkar via whistles.

Nearing the top of the pass.

After just about two hours of non stop climbing, we reached the top almost simultaneously. He looked weary, but we couldn’t have been happier. Two of the most wonderful hours of our lives had culminated into the enchantingly beautiful top of the Hampta Pass. This was freedom for me. This feeling was why I came here. Again, I had that heady sense of invincibility at the top. I had expected it after experiencing it for the first time in the last season when I had topped out Mt. Kanamo in Spiti. In my opinion, a feeling of infallibility is really a tricky thing. A little less and you might not be able to take risks and achieve what you came for. On the other hand too much of it would make you take stupid decisions. It's just like slack-lining, a tough balance. But at that moment, rather than letting go of it, I just closed my eyes and let it soak in while resting as Onkar took a little time out for himself.

Onkar at the top of Hampta Pass with a magnificient view

Notably, the trail here turns to left which brings one down to the Shea Goru campsite. But inexplicably and in the hindsight, rather surprisingly, we went straight up and tried to find a route from the right, which of course was never to be. After wasting about an hour scrambling through the rocks on the top of the Hampta Pass, we finally found the right way and started going down the valley looking over our shoulders time and again to check if the clouds shrouding Indrasan had cleared.  It’s a beautiful mountain standing high at 6221m at the eastern end of the Pir Panjal range. The grand view of its magnificent north face and the snow dome of the adjoining Deo Tibba (6001m) was one of the perks of Hampta Pass and the weather seemed to deny us of that.

North face of Indrasan (6221m) shrouded in clouds

Closer view of the lower half of the North face of Indrasan. Notice the umpteen icefalls and seracs that guard it!

The route down from the pass is incredibly steep and one must be really sure footed to be able to get down quickly. It is a continuously winding downward trek traversing a sharply angled slope. I still can’t believe how fast we moved on our way down almost as if our backsides were on fire. We had wasted a lot of time on the top and almost denied ourselves any possibility of finding a ride back at Chhatru as almost everybody wishes to cross the Rohtang pass before dusk. But we had to take our chances. We just went on and on without stopping even as much for water, of which we had little left now. The later half of the descent features a moderately angled scree slope getting down to Shea Goru campsite at the end. This is where YHAI and other trekking companies have a camp for the participants getting down from the pass. And here was where we had the aforementioned hair-raising river fording adventure.

Breathtaking view of the valley from the top of the Hampta Pass. Notice the stream coming down from Indrasan in the middle. With enough zoom you can see the tents at Shea Goru

But yet again, no mountain story lacks in any sort of adventure, does it? I nursed a rumbling stomach that day and finally my body gave way at Shea Goru. No sooner had I unloaded the rucksack from my back, I unloaded a lot of other stuff too from my stomach right through my mouth. I had expected it for some time now and instantly a feeling of weakness engulfed me. But I had been through this earlier as well, both at Kanamo and Yunam and also during training. As they say, experience is the best teacher! I knew what exactly was happening to my body, how much more could it take and how long could I go before giving up and how could I push and pace myself to outdo that. It was all in the mind. It was that rare feeling when you are one with yourself and know exactly what you are doing and what you need to do. I bet if you get that feeling sitting in an office chair! It's the magic of the mountains!

After crossing the stream the going was pretty easy. Vast easy angled slopes leading down to the Chandra valley. Occasionally there came a sharp bend or steep contour on the way, but generally one could trek down very fast. The beauty of the descent lay in the miles and miles of the valley painted red by the unending carpets of Sheep Sorrel. A path cut through these omnipresent carmine pastures inadvertently makes you feel like walking on red velvet! It was overwhelming and more than once we rested on the boulders lining the path even when we didn’t need to, just to soak in the soul fulfilling place we were at. The entire route went skirting a deep gorge that echoed with the thumping sound of the ice-cold torrent that just got bigger as we moved along. Here we came across a few porters carrying heavy camping supplies, including thick foam mattresses! And expectedly, a little ahead we met the Indian Glaciology scientists whom these were meant for. They were to camp at the base of Indrasan for a while to study the glacier and take samples to analyze. What a fascinating life!

Sheep Sorrel lined pathway. Notice Onkar resting on an uneven boulder.

Fantastic vista on the way down

Fairly comfortable walk through the meadows to reach the end of the valley where it joins Chandra

Another hour and a half of continuous walking led us down to the wide Chandra valley where we turned eastwards to Chhatru along the true left bank of the Chandra river.  This area is a known heaven for boulderers several people camp here in the season to solve their problems. Another couple of kilometers through the boulder strewn valley, which we covered hopping and skipping in elation, finally give way to the iconic bridge on the Chandra river which brought back memories from a year back when I was here on the way to Mt. Kanamo in Spiti. That time I had stumbled upon a few trekkers coming down from Hampta pass and was enlightened about its history by a Spitian gentleman whom I was travelling with. Then and there I had resolved to do it very soon, and here I was, just back from that endeavour. Both these times, I had been successful on the adventures. Maybe Chhatru is what is lucky for me. Again, I clicked the smooth and steep granite flanks of several towering peaks that lined the valley and which I had fallen in love with last year. They are just so beautiful. I hope I can make myself able to climb these lovely rock slabs someday soon.

Reaching the Chandra valley. Chandra river flows below in full power. Notice the porter coming up.

Walking beside the Chandra river to Chhatru

At Chhatru, marvelling at the rock faces.

As we rolled into the dhaba at Chhatru, again I had the feeling of nothingness that I experience once an adventure is over. Apparently, I should be happy, proud, elated and over the moon. But I just feel nothing, almost aloofness with the surroundings. I have often wondered about it but could never figure the source or reason behind it. Maybe it’s because the days of fun are over or maybe I am just humbled with what I had undergone for the past few days. Maybe it's the journey that matters, and the goal is immaterial. Nevertheless, I do mean to say that we were super happy as Onkar and I shook hands and congratulated each other for our first successful trek together. We waited for some godsend angel who could haul us back to Manali (where a dinner of Trout and beer awaited us at the Blue Moon Café!!). After a couple of humans, the angel came but the ride back was more akin to one through hell than heaven as we clung on to our lives with our hearts in the mouth. But that’s a story for another time.

And that folks, is how we crossed the Hampta Pass.