The Spirit of Sandakphu - Part 1

To be frank, I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the 3^rd-AC coach of the Humsafar Express. Perhaps because it is a relatively new train with new coaches, the train was fairly clean. What surprised me even more were the modern sanitary facilities like a jet-spray and a hand wash! The coach also had a feature of displaying the station which we were approaching, like the metros. It seemed like fiction! On the return journey, we were booked in a sleeper class coach, which was more ‘real’ – more like what I had expected on train journeys. I shall tell you more about it at a later stage.

As per schedule, we were supposed to reach NJP at 4.30 AM while our pick-up was at 9.30 AM. The train seemed to have understood my apprehension about having to spend five hours at a railway station and hence, by the time we reached the station, it was 9’o clock. Feeling an urgent need to use the washroom upon alighting, I was directed by the station staff to the washrooms near the second-class waiting room. While in the queue, I saw another person standing guard close to a toilet. I clearly understood why when my turn came – the toilet doors had no bolt on the inside! Having asked my friend to be with the luggage in the waiting area, I had nobody to guard while I was at my business. That was when I decided to resort to the universal code of coughing, whistling and singing! This code came in handy at our camp site in Sandakphu as well. There is another fairly interesting story about that campsite. But then, we will have to get there slowly.

We met some of our co-trekkers over breakfast at a modest hotel outside the station. Post-breakfast, we set off in three vehicles towards Jowbari (or Jaubhari), our base camp. My friend, Naman (he personally asked me to mention names – his name, at the least) and I were grouped with four others from IIM-A along our journey. I found it unique that a group of young men and women should choose a trek as their grad-trip than perhaps getting drunk in Goa or a road-trip to Ladakh – things which are trendy. One of them is a pretty good singer and he sang along most of the Rafi and Kishore Kumar’s songs which were played during the drive.  

The setting was perfect – beautiful music, cool wind and majestic mountains. What was missing was, perhaps, coffee. Those mountains can silence us into introspection. Reflecting, I realized how insignificant we are. Yet, we humans bore through mountains to create tunnels and roads, stamping our authority on nature. However, would we have been able to do something had nature willed against it? All it takes are a few seconds for any earthquake or landslide to destroy all those symbols of human conquest, along with our ego!

The journey was pretty uneventful and by the time we reached Jaubhari, it was late afternoon. Fog was setting in and the weather was turning cold, prompting us to wear multiple layers of clothing. We were let off for a while to socialize, call up home and rest. I spent time looking at the mountains till they disappeared behind the veil of fog, trying to understand what I was looking for on this trek.

Here, we met our trek leader, Sushant. Along with him was Karthik as part of the Green Trails, a highly commendable initiative by India Hikes. The idea is to collect any waste, plastic especially, which we come across along our trek, in the “Eco-Bags” which were given to us and deposit them at the next camp for disposal. Thus, we leave the mountains cleaner than they were when we entered them. Over tea, we were given our health cards and our BP, pulse and oxygen readings were taken. For the next six days, our pulse and oxygen readings would be taken thrice a day – in the morning, upon arrival at a camp and in the evening. What caused anxiety was the fact that in the health card, it was written that any parameter below a certain level mandated immediate evacuation. Everytime the oximeter was put on to take my readings, I sincerely prayed that the score was favorable, just like while waiting for results of an exam!

We were served hot soup, the first of the many delights that we were served through the trek, and Sushant explained the itinerary in some detail, with special stress on the no-smoking and no alcohol clause. There was also a mini ice-breaker session. An interesting observation about our batch is that the youngest member was 11 while the oldest was 52 years old. Dinner was good as well. Perhaps one reason why I would recommend India Hikes is the amazing food that they serve. Throughout the trek, at all camps, we were served quality food, not to forget the sweet dish and ‘hot drink’ (no euphemism there – we were provided Bournvita or ginger water!).

I was surprised to find myself happily going off to sleep at around 9’o clock, unlike in the hostel, where an average day ends at 1’o clock in the morning. I went to sleep wondering if the ensuing week would reset my biological clock to timings which my parents would be proud of!

The next morning, after a moderately heavy breakfast, we were set to begin our trek. With backpacks, shoes and trek poles, we looked professional. Through the clouds, we caught a fleeting glimpse of the snow-capped Himalayas, beckoning us and off, we were.                                                                                 

                                                                                                               To be continued…

The Spirit of Sandakphu - Prologue

The trek is over. The hangover is fading. Now that I have sat down to write about it, I am faced with a question. When actually did this story begin taking shape? It surely did not begin on Day 1 of the trek. More importantly, it does not end with that final step with which we reached the end point on the trail. Experiences of that one week will be ruminated over for days, with new insights gained every other time.

Over the next two or three pieces, I shall narrate this story, hoping to capture the spirit of Sandakphu.

                                                         *************

It was in November when a couple of friends and I sat down to make plans for the break in the coming semester. Package tours were too mainstream. Our previous experience had not been great either. That's a story for another day. Besides, a bunch of 20-somethings are expected to do things which are hatke. The idea of 'self-discovery' has been much romanticized. Moreover, 20s is the age when you decide what the philosophy of your life is. It was this that drove us towards the idea of a trek - to find our real selves and where better to delve within than the mighty Himalayas?! December was dedicated for shortlisting treks and trying to get other 'like-minded' friends on board. We also promised that regardless of who joined us or otherwise, the three of us would surely be going.

By January, our group was five-member strong. After much deliberation and debate, to the extent of switching over to the idea of a package tour, we zeroed in on the Sandakphu - Phalut trek offered by India Hikes. The batch of 12th - 18th March seemed tailor-made for our plans. The website said it was a trek for beginners. The trail was through a national park, in a month when flowers would just begin to bloom. The summit provided views of the Everest! What more reason do you need to start a love affair with nature?

A few days after having booked the tickets, one of our friends decided to back out. The reason is still not known to any of us, perhaps even to himself, even after the trek is over. Attempts at convincing him failed miserably. That was, however, only the first wicket to fall. Some days later, two more decided to cancel, with justifiable reasons, though. Of the initial three, only I remained and the group was reduced to two. In fact, until the day that we actually boarded the train, I dreaded that the only other member would decide to back out as well, for whatever reason!

Couple of weeks before the trek was when we decided to burn a hole through our pockets – by purchasing gear and equipment from Decathlon. While shopping was an experience to remember, the fact that we travelled nearly a couple of hundred kilometers for the same is a story in itself. On that fateful day, we travelled to and from the warehouse (which is in the middle of nowhere!) in buses, local trains, cycle rickshaws, auto ricks and motor thelas. Lack of time prevented us from travelling by steamer across the Hooghly, though. By the time we exited the warehouse, we had heavier bags and lighter wallets, having purchased more than what we had intended to!

Our first challenge was not on the trekking trail but on the train to Howrah. Bengal is, of course, a densely populated state. That evening on that local train underlined this for us. We already had difficulty moving with our heavy backpacks. Add to it the heat, sweat and pressure of a crowd trying to push you in every other direction! At one point of time, some of the kids on the train began crying, perhaps because they felt claustrophobic and were gasping for air. In hindsight, it feels that this was the first point along the entire trek which highlighted the value of one of the things we take for granted – breath.

Funnily, though, throughout this prelude to the trek, I felt absolutely no sense of excitement – not while backpacking, not on the night before the trek, not on the train to Howrah. It was replaced with an eerie sense of calmness. Or was it anxiety? I will never know.

Humsafar Express, our train to New Jalpaiguri, our pick-up point, was a couple of hours late that night. Our journey had just begun.

                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                                To be continued…