My Frozen Collection: The Abode of the Snake God

I pulled the sleep mask over my forehead and rubbed my eyes. I was still in the bus that I had boarded from Delhi the previous night. But, the engine was dead. The co-passengers were all asleep. I peeked out of the window through a gap in the curtain. A tailback, mostly trucks carrying construction materials. For a moment I wondered whether the bus hadn’t left the National Capital Region. And, then, we Indians, smart as we think we are, assume those following a queue are nincompoops! We try to squeeze in through the needle hole. I can go on about how we are perpetually in a hurry. After moving at a snail’s pace for some distance and after a few classic Indian road moves that would have put Ayrton Senna to shame, traffic cleared beyond a narrow tunnel. Dehradun was still 10 kilometres afar and the bus was running 30 minutes late.

An initial section of the trek which starts at Pantwari.

We, (oh yeah! Ronnie, the other character in this narrative) managed to catch the connection cab to Pantwari. A small town in the Tehri Garwal region of Uttarakhand. Pantwari is one of the three preferred starting points for the trek to Nag Tibba. That’s where we are headed on this two-day expedition. At an elevation of a little over 3,000 metres, Nag Tibba, which translates to ‘serpent peak,’ is the highest peak in the Lesser Himalayan region. Ronnie is firmly counting on reviews on the web that this is an easy trek. He has been planning on jogging after winter, which apparently hasn’t ended for him; it’s May in Delhi. We had made arrangements for camping and food en route to the Nag Tibba summit through a local guide; thanks to the internet. He arranged the cab from Dehradun too.

A mud house at the Goat Village.

Nine of us and the driver were fairly comfortable in a big Mahindra Bolero. Dehradun was in the rearview in no time. The road soon drifted between left-handers and right-handers as it wound through the hills. Panthwari is 85 kilometres north of Dalhousie, via Mussoorie and Nainbagh. Besides usual traffic, schoolchildren in their red and blue sweaters, and cattle herders enjoying orange ice sticks stretched our journey over three hours.

And it gets steeper.

Nag Tibba base camp.

After brunch at Pantwari, we followed our guide – Dinesh – a lanky Pahadi in his fifties, clothed in a dress shirt, and a pair of polyester trousers, and wearing sandals. I had shopped at Decathlon the previous day to be trek-ready! Sigh! We followed him through the narrow alleys of the village. The concrete made way for a steeper rocky trail. As the terrain got rougher, Dinesh seemed to gain efficiency, like a fish in water. His sandal-clad feet maneuvered the loose rocks and sharp edges effortlessly, leaving our hiking boots feeling inferior. Dinesh says the trek has become popular with Indians only in the last four to five years, thanks to the internet again. In the preceding years, he mostly guided foreigners to the summit.

Jaibir Chaudhary shepherds his cattle to their shelter.

A gentle breeze cancelled out the harsh April sun. The hike has two water points until the base camp. As icy water trickled through the rocks into the bottles, seven more folks joined us. We got good company in Mariya and Prateek, two childhood friends. Though Mariya claims her marketing job doesn’t leave her a life, she’s an avid traveler. Prateek mostly works six days a week as he can’t find much better to do, going by his words. Moving forward, the terrain continued to be rocky and the trail got narrower.

Jaibir is a father of four - three sons and a daughter. One of them is in the army and the others are in school. He is not keen on any of them taking up his occupation. At their age, he did not have a choice as his ancestors were shepherds, he says.

The second water point is at Goat Village. As summer sets in, water supply declines. The arid topography of the hills reflected the ruthlessness of the unforgiving big star. Goat Village is gaining popularity as a camping spot; in addition to mud and straw dwellings, blue and yellow tents, and a few cottages sprawl across the vast hilly grasslands. Ahead of the village, the trail passes through a forest. Burans (tree rhododendron), the state flower of Uttarakhand, dot the forest, offering a pleasant contrast to the faded greens. A short hike among the trees and the trail leads to Nag Tibba base camp on a gentle slope. It takes about four hours to reach the base from Pantwari. Tents of several trek organisers line up along the slope. The site is preferred owing to water availability at a nearby pond.

Much needed warmth and rest.

We stretched our legs munching piping hot pakoras. Countless contours of mountain ranges spread in the west. The sun prepared to turn the sky orange. My favourite part of the day was approaching. Bleats were heard in the distance; as they became louder, the furry white creatures made their way up the hill in twos and threes and then in tens and twenties. They grazed around until their master called out to them in his familiar voice. The sun sank; clouds gathered, grey ones; the wind gained speed, petrichor started emanating from the warm earth. The shepherd, Jaibir Chaudhary, hurriedly gathered his herd before it started pouring. A few of his sheep stared at my lens curiously and Jaibir was kind enough to invite me home for tea; he insisted. We made a little conversation about his family and the cattle business while sipping hot tea prepared with goat milk. Before long, hailstones rattled the roof, warning of the downpour to come. I gulped the tea and scampered to the campsite after quick goodbyes.

The trail to the summit.

Thunderstorm lashed the hills for about an hour. The wind carried the rain away and we gathered around a bonfire for some much needed warmth. It was an early to bed day as the summit trek would begin around 4 am. The clouds killed my hopes of capturing the starry night sky. Zipped up in the sleeping bag, I wondered how I would have loved to star gaze listening to Fleet Foxes and Dylan.

Mariya, Prateek and Mayur catch up on the final hike to the summit.

The summit trek began with torchlights. Through the woods, and past the Nagdevata Temple, we were at the final leg of the hike, the steepest of the trek. The elevation changes by about 2,000 feet from the base camp to the summit. The first rays had started kissing the distant peaks. The trail moved among trees with mosses on the skin. Cattle herders had already begun their day; we had to carefully avoid shepherd dogs on many occasions. After over two hours uphill, a green carpet welcomes hikers to the final approach. The summit faces east with a view of some of the mighty Himalayan ranges, including the Nanda Devi range. However, haze deprived us of that panoramic view. Still, it was worth staring at the veiled marvel somewhere beyond the clouds as the early morning rays touched our weary skin.

Nirvana.