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Predictably enough the morning we left Darjeeling the sun burst through the early morning fog and we started to wonder whether we had made the right decision. The views of the Himalaya on the drive out were just stunning, could it get anymore beautiful than this? Yes, happily it could.
We entered the state of Sikkim through the small border town of Rangpo, got our tourist permits for 15 days and preceded to the capital Gangtok, the jumping off point for most Sikkim activities.
We quickly noted upon arriving in Gangtok there was little to do other than get out of your skull on the tax free booze available across Sikkim, bought from the liquor shops that seem more frequent than houses. Certain tax breaks have been introduced in Sikkim to encourage growth in the region, India is understandably a little worried about having a sparsely populated area so close to China's borders. The local administration had also ripped up the entire area that functioned as a high street, and most places looked deserted or long out of season. A little disappointed we grabbed a taxi to the most popular guesthouse (empty) and proceeded to sign in. Half-heartedly we asked about the slim chance of getting enough people together to do some trekking. A guy asked his friend, another asked his, and to cut a long story down a bit, 20 minutes later we had handed over a large bundle of cash to a total stranger and were sat in a tibetan restaurant waiting for a car.
It came. Thank god. Our trek arranger called Jeewan introduced us to a fellow trekker in our group, an aussie named Ian who would be following the tiny hatchback arranged as a taxi, on his Enfield complete with all his gear strapped on. Very heroic on the roads in question, or totally bonkers I guess. We would start our trek from an ancient village called Yuksom in West Sikkim, only 50km or so away but at night at least a 5 to 6 hour drive. So it was a particuarly long night for us, much longer for Ian. To keep us entertained we had Jeewan's bizarre choice in music - a 50/50 mix of Bryan Adams and other power ballads and Nepali folk trance it could only be described as. But also we had the proclaimations of BRO, or the Border Roads Organization. It is their job to build and maintain particuarly tricky roads, they do a very hard job very well but they are not too modest about it- they seem to hand paint a sign for every 20 yards of road to tell you they have achieved the impossible. However the best ones are their safety signs - "Go gently on my curves", "It's not a rally, enjoy the valley", "Road is hilly, don't be silly" and so forth made the spine wrenching journey go a little quicker. My personal favourite was "Go home in peace, not in pieces".
We reached Yuksom safe and sound, met the other guys Hayden and Lisa both Aussies, one a triathlete, the other runs marathons (oh jesus no) and our guide for the next five days Raj. Then an early night for an early morning to come.
After renting duck-down sleeping bags and such we set off with our guide, 3 porters, 4 yaks and high expectations. On the first day we would walk 16kms plus probably 6 or 7km up and down hill. The terrain was fantastic; deep wide gorges 1000metres high or more each covered in inpenetrable tropical vegetation, the stone path cutting a zany path through the valleys. We crossed innumerable bouncy suspension bridges, waterfalls crystal clear and icy to the touch and by lunch we were all happy and into the flow. Then we started the uphill. Slowly we trudged up into the clouds saying goodbye to the delicate palms and bamboo stands, and the strange high altitude jungle that clings to these valleys, and upwards loomed the giant Himalayan Oaks, proof that we were approaching our target of around 2200metres and our rest point for the first night, Tshoka. Slowly we rose into the thick fog that seems to smother everything, the colour, the birds and the wind all disappeared as we trudged onwards starting to curse the weather just a little. Blisters were starting to open and I was starting to wonder what would be the point in getting up a bloody high mountain if you can only see 5 yards in front of you?
Soon enough we reached Tshoka and although none of us expected a palace of glittering delights the reception was a little bleak to say the least. When the Dalai Lama fled Tibet he passed through here on his way down and some of his companions stayed and settled a tiny village. Since the forming of Khendchenzonga National Park the occupants are only allowed to reside in the village for the summer season - meaning it was thoroughly deserted and in the mountain half light of gathering fog and dusk it was a thoroughly depressing sight. Still our jack in the box guide Raj provided us with bottomless cups of Sherpa tea and a fantastic 5 course meal somehow created on a kerosene stove and we were soon more optimistic about the weather clearing. A few games of cards later and we all crawled into our sleeping bags and then into one small room together to try and beat the cold.
It was a warm and comfortable night considering the temperature inside the hut was well below freezing. A silver light crept in the window at dawn and we emerged to find a thick blanket of snow covering Tshoka in an ethereal glow, and the snow was still steadily falling. After a quick breakfast - well, pints of tea, porridge, toast, eggs, paratha with jam and so on we emerged and started the trudge upwards. We were only walking 8km to our destination but it was going to be be all uphill and the snow was getting steadily heavier.
The small shrubs and foliage gave way to beautiful looming himalayan firs, silver oaks and everywhere rhododendrons lined the paths. In April and June our trail would be lined with tourists who have come to see the rohos flowering but since we arrived in Gangtok we had met only our fellow trekkers, the whole state seemed blissfully quiet. Perhaps it was the weather.
As we approached 4000metres with burning legs the wind started to whip down straight from the mountains freezing our snow wet hair and clothes, and a large blizzard was starting, cutting down visibility to a couple of metres. On the plus side, if we stopped, we froze and their was no going back, so this made the very steep climb a little easier. Soon the trees thinned and then we were above the tree line, only rhodoendron bushes and stunted heather like plants covered in snow here. With the trekkers hut at Dzongri almost in sight and the weather now truly horrific we met a sizeable ice flow spreading across our route , forming a large and treacherous barrier from us and warmth. So, a bit of bum sledging down a glacier is just what you fancy at -10 degrees and it did the trick of cheering us all up after a short but very hard and cold morning.
A fog clouded our moods as well as the mountain when we arrived at the trekkers hut at Dzongri. We lit a large fire in the centre of the room and defrosted some of our clothes, ate the remainder of any biscuits and such we had brought with us (the yaks with all our dry clothes and food could not bum sledge, they would go around, and would not be here for four hours) and we tried to keep our spirits up. The thought of slogging it for 2 days here and 2 days back without seeing a mountain was getting to us all a little. We knew this was common in the mountains, especially in the winter, did we really expect a good view? We were asking too much.
A few hours later the tinkling of bells broke our disconsolate silence - the yaks had arrived. Hayden and I went outside to see them in. The snow had stopped. The wind had lessened. The sky the bluest blue you could possibly imagine, and the mountains were visible in all their glory, impossibly huge and beautiful but so still and silent - only the vapour trails being left by the wind at their tops giving clue to the utterly inhospitable conditions only just above us. Several excitable minutes of shouting and photos later we were running up to the view point above our hut at 4300metres and then we were all stopped dead, wheezing at the first slope. We had forgotten the effort it had taken to get to this altitude and now we were paying for it by crawling up to the viewpoint at a snails pace. After more photos we lay down on the bare earth marvelling at the raw beauty of it. There was a shout, our guide Raj had run up to the viewpoint we had taken an hour to reach with a steaming kettle of sherpa tea - Indian people really are incredible, Raj especially.
The following morning we made our way up higher, actually onto the Dzongri Pass, the views could never be explained, or even photographed for that matter, but the wind coming straight off the mountains and seemingly into our souls forced us back down after 5 minutes.
After a fine feast the following morning we worked our way back down the mountains - a recurrent theme being how the hell did we get up here, after climbing constantly down for 3 hours or more.
Particular highlights on the way back down were following the tracks of a snow leoperd all the way out of the snow line, going swimming in a crystal clear pool of thaw water, seeing the waterfall running in and feeling for the first time in ages mercifully clean (Tim only obviously), and on our last night an iced "Congrats" cake somehow produced on a kerosene burner.
So a time to always cherish had by all - and we continued on our own, taking the Monastic trekking route from Yusom to the sacred Buddhist site of Kheotchpelri Lake.
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blank0 says:
This blog should be a book - or at least serialised in a Sunday Supplement!