Mountain Sound

Welcome to Manali- a welcome respite from bustling metropolises and hustling tuk tuk drivers. Our journey from Agra took us through New Delhi, the capital of mayhem, in which we spent no more than 24 hours due merely to the fact that our distaste for Indian cities was at its zenith. One 18 hour bus ride later, in an overcrowded semi-sleeper Volvo bus, through winding and treacherously steep mountain roads, we reached Indian Whistler. Instead of being populated by ski-bum Aussies, the place is filled with trek-happy, dreadlocked Israelis and a calming sense of home brought by the presence of mountains- something all western Canadians can definitely relate to. Upon our arrival in Manali we got straight to work, gathering supplies for our imminent 6-night trek through the 4500m Hamta Pass. Once we had secured sufficient lentils, rice, veggies, and spice, we began something of a wild goose chase through New Manali for a bottle of kerosene- a rare thing in these parts - finally finding some of the banned substance several hours later by way of a chai-seller in a remote alleyway behind a small snack shop. Adventure! 

The next morning we set out for our the village of Jugatsukh, a 20 minute bus ride south of Manali and the starting point of our trek. After finding our trailhead high above the small town, we began day 1 - a solid 1500m gain in elevation, past villages, temples, and shepherd camps guarded by aggressive guard dogs. Once again we found ourselves somewhat lost, and took the long way up to the mountain ridge- a steep 800m ascent up a grassy slope covered in thorny underbrush and goat shit. 

But at long last, we reached camp 1 unguided, and slept soundly with glorious mountain views and heavenly rays breaking through the clouds. The next morning we found ourselves even more lost - after traversing beautiful meadows (filled with grazing herds of horses and endless patches of wildflowers) searching for our river crossing, we somehow found ourselves back in Jugatsukh. Square one! This is what happens when one is too cheap to hire a guide; however, we persevered and took the long way around via road, through the village of Prini to the next camp, just above a high dam on the opposite ridge. The next 3 nights were spent at various points between Chikah, a shepherd camp, and Valu Ka Ghirra, the last camp before the high pass. Unfortunately it is still too early in the season to even approach Hamta Pass due to treacherously thin glaciers on the approach, while Hamta Pass itself is completely iced over and impassable. Still, views of the pass and the ascending Hamta valley were breathtaking, and the deity-like presence of the high peaks surrounding us shook us to our collective core. Yesterday afternoon we decided we had done all the hiking we could, and a pleasant walk down the valley to the dam had us pass several Israeli Trekkers who had heard rumours of the 3 Canadians tearing up Hamta Valley. We found a local villager at the trail base who offered us a ride down the 17km dam road, and after a cup of chai we hopped in a jeep (seemingly taken straight out of Far Cry 4) and found ourselves back in Old Manali within the hour. Although thankful for hot paneer kadai and cold beers, we will fondly reminisce on our makeshift camping meals, including our signature mountain Veg Biryani supper, chocolate porridge breakfast, and broccoli-Maggi luncheon with lemon tea and coconut shavings for High Tea. I can honestly say the experience of being self-sufficient and living comfortably in isolated Himalayan valleys for 5 days was one of the premier experiences of my life and I can't wait for more trekking adventures. McLeod Ganj, Ladakh, Lei, and perhaps Nanda Devi in Uttarakhand are on the list!

 In summary, Northern India is Bae and I never want to leave this heavenly oasis, where the chai is spicy and hemp grows like weeds on the roadside. Weeds, Carl. 

-Mountain Ryan