The Valley of Flowers: The Ultimate Guide to an Adventure Trek in the Upper Himalaya, by Susan Jagannath.

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The Valley of Flowers: The Ultimate Guide to an Adventure Trek in the Upper Himalaya

by Susan Jagannath.

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One looks at the title, the cover, and expects a dreamy travelogue that can transport one into the beautiful valley just as one reads this.

All that, however, comes later.

Instead, it takes a flying star by informing one extensively and in detail about practical matters, such as how to prepare for getting there - on one's own feet!

For, at least the last and the most difficult bit, is a trek up a steep slope into the valley, and then some in the valley.

Author helps with all sorts of information, from how to train, to what to wear, and what food to expect, to rates of various things.

Author seems to suffer from the same sickness that grips everyone abrahmic or western, and therefore all their camp followers. It's main symptom is a compulsive badmouthing about India, so that author seems unable to let the reader enjoy a description if glory of Himaalaya or Ganga without a description of garbage.

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"High in the mountains, among windswept peaks and gleaming glaciers is a hidden bower that touches the sky. Like a fragrant benediction among the sacred peaks of the Himalayas, it remained hidden until the last century. Despite the ancient pilgrim paths nearby, this valley stayed the exclusive preserve of flower–munching mountain goats and silent shepherds on their way through the valleys and passes to the dry hills of Tibet."

It might, rather, have been Gandhamaadana, the very valley instead where Urvashie and Pururava lived for a year, and one where Apsara flocked descending from heaven to frolic.

"The rocky path to the high–altitude glacial valley is steep, slippery and soggy. To see the flowers, you must trek through the rains of the monsoon into the swirling cloud–covered reaches of the upper Himalayas. Even then entrance is restricted to a few short daylight hours. Dusk is but a brief interlude before darkness falls like a curtain when the sun slips behind the towering walls of the gorge."

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"The Ganga, is the river of India, beloved of her people, round which are intertwined her racial memories, her hopes and fears, her songs of triumph, her victories and her defeats.

"― Jawaharlal Nehru"

Which sounds all very senty, except this - India's memories go back beyond Samudra Manthana, when India was watching Himaalaya rising from the ocean that separated landmass of Asia from India. This was before this ocean vanished, which is also part of legends and lores kept alive by India.

Sindhu is thus the only river named so, despite bring not as karge as say, Brahmaputra, or even Ganga, because Sindhu replaced the ocean thst had existed to the north, its course matching the coastline. The word Sindhu, in Sanskrit and therefore in all Indian languages, literally means, ocean.

And as for Ganga, yes it's loved, but even more, revered. Nehru's quote there would make a stranger think India grew as a culture on banks of Ganga, and that's less than a half truth.

Fact is, most famous legends about Ganga begin with Bhagiratha, a famous king in ancestral tree of Raama, making humongous efforts to bring Ganga down on Earth, down from heaven. And till date, one of the most arduous pilgrimages people of India aspire to is to the tremendous sources of Ganga, chief one being to the source of Bhaagierathie, originating in a spot named Gaumukha - literally, Light's Mouth.

As for the "racial memories, her hopes and fears, her songs of triumph, her victories and her defeats" that he mentions, they aren't all about Ganga, but have involved other rivers far more - major ones being Sharayou with Raama, and Yamuna with Krishna.

Ganga is far more about reverence, spiritual journey, seen and known as the river received personally by Shiva on earth wheen she descended from heaven, since Earth wouldn't be strong enough to take her force.

And India sees this relationship still the same way. Ganga is river of Gods, a Goddess descended from heaven.

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" ... The ice–blue Bhagirathi, coming from the frigid Gangotri glacier, inches along, scorning the wild muddy dance of the boisterous Alaknanda. Coming off the high mountains, and tumbled into by countless valleys and rocks, the Alaknanda roars into the confluence, all power, noise, and mud."

What on earth is the author describing? Is it effect of yhe dam up river?

We saw, in summer of 1993 at Devprayag, Bhagirathi a tremendously powerful torrent, roaring white over the rocks, while Alaknanda was a smooth blue flow, just as powerful but quiet, silent.

I recall my partner describing it as us, and his saying he was like Alaknanda, just as powerful but quieter than Bhagirathi.

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"THE MAROONED GODDESS

" ... goddess Dhari Devi. It’s a women’s shrine ... "

Author writes to say that it's rare, which is highly incorrect; Himaalaya has not only the temples of Goddess in every form but is known as birthplace and home of Parvati, literally Daughter Of Mountain, and besides there's the very revered Ganga, venerated not only in a shrine at Gangotri but as a river at every, any point. And then there are other temples such as one of Hidimba at Manali.

If, on the other hand, the temple of Dhara Devi is restricted only for women, that would certainly be rare.

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"A TRILOGY OF PRAYAGS

"The Panch Prayag, the five confluences of the Alaknanda flow thick and fast, all aflutter with temple flags. Yesterday we passed Devprayag, and today we will pass three more. This route is the perfect Ganges worship, she who has no temples dedicated to her, but who gives life to the land and its myriad peoples."

Who does the author think is the temple at Gangotri for worship of, even apart from the every day worship of Ganga - the river - at Haridwar, Kashi, and various other places, regularly?

This is apart from the fact that these who so wish can worship Ganga at any point along the river. And of course, Prayag is a major place of the said worship of Ganga.

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"At Nandprayag the Mandakini, proceeding from the pristine heights of Nanda Devi, and the Alaknanda meet at a boulder strewn confluence. ... "

It's actually Nandakini at Nandprayag, 'proceeding from the pristine heights of Nanda Devi', while Mandakini flows down from Kedarnath to merge with Alaknanda at Rudraprayag.

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" ... This is the unheralded confluence of the Pushpavati and Laxman Ganga, where the mountain source streams become the Bhyundar Ganga that tumbles downhill to join the Vishnu Ganga ... "

So far, OK. But then -

" ... a tributary of the Alaknanda, that eventually becomes the Ganga."

Author is presuming wrong.

It's Alaknanda that's secondary tributary of Ganga, and Bhagirathi the main source of Ganga - unless, of course, one counts three of them - Bhagirathi, Mandakini and Alaknanda - as equally important major three sources.

If one goes by tradition of pilgrimage since millennia, these are the three major sources; nevertheless, Bhagirathi it is that's named as chief source. Gangotri and Gaumukha are testimonials to this, in names and fact of their existence, on Bhagirathi.

But the difference, the separation of the three tributaries is only limited to the common view of pilgrims who never go beyond Gaumukha, Kedarnath or Badrinath.

When we were at Kedarnath, we heard about how one may trek further up behind Kedarnath, and arrive at Gaumukha. This is as evident in Google maps, as the fact that sources of all three are from glaciers that stream from sides of the huge peak behind the three, namely, Chaukhamba.

But it's Bhagirathi alone, in legend and it's very visible source at Gaumukha, that's different from others, in being not only from a glacier, but springing out as a full torrent out of Himaalaya, out of a rocky cavern.

The only other river that matches that is Saraswati, which springs out of a rocky source below Bhim pul at a point above Badrinath, below the waterfall Vasudhara that's seen as source of Alaknanda. But Saraswati vanishes promptly, and isn't visible if one turns around to look from other side of the bridge.

But it joins Ganga only at Prayag, still underground. So Saraswati counts as a separate river with its own persona and importance, just as Yamuna does.

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"An animated if wilted group of women of all shapes and sizes tramp up in identical maroon t–shirts and black hiking shoes. What’s their story? They decided to have an adventure, they laugh, bending down to catch their breath. Training together all year on the hot flat roads and sketchy parks of their small town, they ordered their hiking gear from Decathlon online. They’ve booked transport and accommodation online, and now are here. They shake their heads when I tell them they can’t make the Valley of Flowers today. They think it's just a couple of kms further and it can be a short pre–dinner walk after they freshen up. What does Aunty–jee know?"

Again, author chooses to insult women only for no longer being sixteen! Should women be all killed before eighteen, according to the author?

Or is it being an aunt that's disgusting? Should siblings of every female be rendered infertile, or killed at birth, according to the author?

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" ... we head back to Auli for a late lunch, with a stop at thunderous Vishnuprayag. I descend steep stairs down to the temple where the Vishnu Ganga and the Dhauliganga converge with a thunderous roar to form the Alaknanda, one of the two source streams of the Ganges. ... "

Again the author is incorrect.

Alaknanda is the third major tributary of Ganga, all the way from beyond Mana, above Badrinath, down to Devprayag.

At Vishnuprayag, in fact, Dhauliganga meets Alaknanda, former streaming from Dhaulagiri, latter from beyond Mana via Badrinath.

If there is a Vishnuganga, Wikipedia ought to have information regarding it, but neither Google maps nor Wikipedia seem to do so.

It seems a tad unlikely that this author is - this casually - providing information where both Google maps and Wikipedia fall short.

"The Alaknanda punches it way down through deep gorges until at Kalpnath the gorge expands to a narrow green fringed valley. Brown and churning, rolling rocks down in the monsoon, in the winter the Alaknanda transforms into a liquid turquoise stream. ... "

Kalpnath seems another spot not known to either Wikipedia or Google maps, but there is a Kalpeshwar by another tributary, unidentified by Google maps,

that meets Alaknanda along further down river from Vishnuprayag.

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"How many decades will there be before the Indian woman is emancipated from the mental, moral and physical slavery she has endured for countless generations?

"– Frank Smythe, The Valley of Flowers"

Smythe obviously was, and so perhaps also is the author, unable to appreciate the struggle India went through, surviving the barbaric onslaught of invaders who destroyed, massacred, and abducted, in hundreds of thousands. Neither seems aware of just how India was, as India recalls, before those assaults commenced, and went on for several centuries, for well over a millennium, by the horrendous barbarians set to destroy all cultures and freedom, all knowledge, in name of a creed.

But more than anything, they are unable to see how west isn't - never was, since about seventeen centuries if not longer - a place of equal treatment for women, much less anything better.

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"This is where we intersect with the route Frank Smythe took from Ranikhet to Joshimath, crossing the Kuari Pass to emerge onto this meadow. A thrill runs through me as our story and his merge on this shining meadow with views of heaven."

"And, earlier in the morning we met the three mountain women, confident and calm, compared to the frightened small woman he met. Reading the chapter in his book, it seems likely that this is the same slope. But what a difference the 90 years have made.

"“.. a small woman driving some oxen appeared. She seemed terrified when I questioned her and hastened by with averted eyes.”"

Good heavens, are they both stupid?

Smythe might have recalled he was encountering a rural woman whose knowledge of history of recent centuries of India was not reassuring regarding male strangers who were of origins other than India! It wasn't that she was downtrodden, it was that she had no safe way to judge if he was a wolf.

And the women whom author met had no reason to fear a small bunch of city slicker women, especially when they - the rural ones - were handling bellowing bulls.

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"In the beginning there was a quiet valley, veiled in cloud and wreathed in glaciers and utterly remote from the teeming masses of the plains. But then one day it welcomed a lost wanderer stumbling out of a Himalayan storm, and it became known as the Valley of Flowers to the world.

"The people of the mountain, the simple shepherds had long known this valley as Nandan Kanan, the last verdant valley before the brown dry hills of Tibet that lay in the rain shadow of the mighty Himalayas. And year after year it lay quiet and forgotten, except by a few intrepid souls ready to walk for days to reach it.

"And when we knew of it, it was like a dream hovering in the distant north. In the vibrant south of India, we got on with converting the sleepy retirement town of Bangalore to the IT capital of the world, and building careers that as Indian women, not even our mothers could have dreamed of.

"And we, answer Frank Smythe’s question – a single generation. In 1937, when he wrote his book, my mother was a ten–year–old in a small town far in the south called Podanur, and on the trek in the photograph above, I stand in the exact spot where Frank Smythe asked that question."

Kudos to the author, although she's not delving into the other parts why that remark by Smythe was fraudulent in the first place.

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"It later transpires that the roads are so precipitous and wet, and the curves so continuous and convoluted, that I sit one row back in the car, but that’s another story.

"Once we have our dates and times, it’s time to plan. We have a ten–day window for a three–day trek, that sounds easy. Until we realize that we need to get to the valley, and acclimatize for the upper Himalayan heights. I have no qualms about admitting that I have altitude sickness, so we need a slow ascent to the start of the Valley of Flowers. And that needs some negotiation, as the tour operator wants us in and out fast, and we didn’t.

"We hand over all the decisions to the best planner among us, Anju takes it all over, and we mostly nod and smile as she does a great job. I smile to myself as I think back to the time ages ago in an office far far away, I mistook her for someone’s little sister, not a key developer on India’s first supercomputer."

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"MEETING AGAIN

"Today is not a boot day, trainers make my feet feel light and airy – as I head into the gurudwara for a five–minute meditation. Coming out, I’m accosted by a posse of grey–haired grannies. There’s no escape from a twenty–minute interrogation by curious village Nanis and Dadis (Grannies). No personal space here. They’re from Ludhiana, a woolen clothing center of Punjab, but their own “sweaters” are exquisitely hand–knitted."

Author, despite a different lifestyle and career, exhibits a mindset that belongs to a kitty set, and exuberantly so, in that description of the presumablyelderly women, althoughshe disdains an explanationof just why one must find a grandmother ridiculous - must women die young, preferably in childbirth, as they did until Europerealisedimportanceof hygiene? - and, too, she refuses to explain why she's attaching quotation marks to sweaters.

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"We’re on the last stretch to Auli, via Joshimath where we are back in small town India. Joshimath has been a pilgrimage town for hundreds of years, the winter home of the priests of Badrinath. ... "

"The temple priests here have been South Indian Brahmins for many generations. I wonder what happened to the local priests over the centuries. ... "

These traditions, going on for centuries or rather well over a millennium, aren't because of any shortage of local priests, any more than descendentsof Queen Victoria repeatedly intermarried close relatives despite plenty of other available local candidates.

The famous Pashupatinath temple of Kathmandu had always had priests from the diametrically opposite end of India, Karnataka, until Chinese supported communists regime violently threw them out in recent decades.

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" ... Adi Shankaracharya, the South Indian reformer led a great Hindu push against Buddhism in the 6th Century A.D. It highlights the power of story, as he retold the ancient myths and situated them in real places right here in the Himalayas. Believers preferred the rich palette of a story, rather than the austere intellectualism of Buddhism."

Since when does Nirvana qualify as "austere intellectualism", or even logic? Or is it because Buddhism does not postulate a God at all, only Nirvana, seemingly zero, hence acceptable to Abrahmic-IV?

Unless it's about a compulsive need of all later abrahmic creeds, in this author, to abuse and assault all Hindus, since Hinduism is the very culture of ancient India, as per Macaulay policy to tear India into shreds before cannibalising it?

But Buddha was only a prince of a kingdom in India who grew to become a God whom India saw as such - and the emperor of China had a vision of, subsequently, so that he sent his emissary to find out about it all, before converting himself and his subjects to Buddhism.

Nothing "intellectual" about any of that. Nor did Buddha invent an austere path of spiritual life as a first in India. What can be more austere than, after all, Shiva? Until he was made by Gods to marry Parvati so birth of Kartikeya was possible, and Gods were saved from their adversaries. Nevertheless, he still resides - by choice, and with family - in remote Himaalaya, nay, on high peaks thereof, not in palaces served by devotees.

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"The morning dawns clear and the mountains gleam a rosy pink in the morning sun. The peaks encircle us in a glimmering embrace and far to the north west, the clouds finally part, like a bride drawing her veil, Nanda Devi floats into full vision – the blessing of the goddess herself. We're all daughters of the Himalayas, culturally, physically and emotionally, and are drawn back to gaze upon her, in Darshan. Leave a blessing as you pass."

Seemingly written beautifully, the paragraph above at first reading leaves an impression that Nanda Devi peak is to North West of Auli, which is not only incorrect, it's in fact opposite. Nanda Devi is in fact almost exactly East, slightly South, of Auli - and a repeated reading of the paragraph only shows that its in fact badly written, producing this confusion.

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"A MAGIC LOCATION

"The Valley of Flowers National Park is in Garhwal, in Chamoli district, about 595 kilometers from Delhi. The tiny national park, all 87.5 square kilometers of it, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, as is the nearby Nanda Devi National Park.

"The closest airport is about 300 kilometers away, Jolly Grant Airport near Dehradun. The nearest railway stations are Haridwar and Rishikesh, 276 kilometers away. From Rishikesh the only access is by road along the sparkling Ganges, until the confluence at Devprayag where the road clings to the steep sides of the Alaknanda valley.

"The northwest to southeast aspect shelters the valley from winds from the frozen north. Open to the wide skies in the summer, the heat from the golden sunlight melts the glaciers that cover the ground for most of the year. But this is India, with its magical life–giving monsoon. 500+ different varieties of alpine flowers explode into bloom from June to August. The flowers germinate, bloom and seed in a 12–week period, in this sky–tossed valley nestled among the spectacular peaks of the Himalayas.

"At an altitude that varies between 3000 to 3600 meters, drained by the Pushpavati, the valley is tiny, barely ten kilometers long and two kilometers wide. This does not seem difficult, but at this altitude you are three kilometers vertically up in the sky. It can be hard on lungs, knees and feet, make sure you acclimatize before you go."

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"In May when the ice retreats, sweet scented primulas cover the rocky terraces in blue and snow–white anemones light up the valley floor.

"With the arrival of monsoons in July, pink and red varieties of flower flush the valley with rosy hues. Balsam, Wallich Geranium, and River Beauty, dominate, although there are plenty of yellow, purple and white flowers.

"From late July to the end of August, Pedicularis, Potentilla, Ligularia and many other yellow varieties appear."

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"Steep hikes at high altitudes need significant preparation and information. ... The more you prepare, the more fun you will have and the easier the trail. The Valley of Flowers is a series of short walks, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy.

"You do not need to go with a tour company, but do book accommodation and transportation in advance. ... "

"Note: You must check whether the Valley is open, and comply with health requirements put in place. Check with the Uttarakhand State Government portal for up-to-date information. If in doubt, do not travel.

"If you have health issues, check with your doctor before you start either the training or the trek.

"There are a couple of landlines available from shops in Ghangaria, as Rs 10 per minute. A post paid BSNL mobile may work, however as a tourist, you will not have this."

Author gives alternative itineraries, varying from reasonable minimum four days to seven.

Wonder why he doesnt recommend staying for the season.

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"IT STARTS WITH WHY

"When you decide to trek the Valley of Flowers, the first step is in your mind. Identify why you are doing the trek.

"Is it to see the flowers?

"Learn about the flowers in the valley, the best time to see them, and your expectations. This is not a man–made exhibition of flowers, this is natural, and you cannot expect all alpine flowers to be big and showy. Many maybe tiny. The flowers differ from week to week. The best time is in the monsoon, so prepare for wet windy weather. Also, for a real botanical experience plan to walk deeper into the Valley, and for this it is better to hire a local guide. You will also need more days, and be ready to climb into the valley on consecutive days. This requires more fitness. If you are taking a porter, then plan for double the cost.

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"If you are adding Hemkund Sahib, work out the optimal times. Sikh devotees and volunteers throng the path for the opening of the Hemkund gurudwara in June. They come in crowds to repair the road and the gurudwaras, if you want the hustle and bustle of a true pilgrim experience, this is the time. They will be only too happy if you volunteer to help out.

"If prefer a quieter trek, avoid June. This is India, you may find it crowded, or you may be surprised at the emptiness.

"If this is for a trekking experience, respect distancing rules. Maintain physical distances when passing others, and wear a mask when you have to be near strangers, for example, when passing each other on the narrow tracks."

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"GET FIT TO WALK

"Because regardless of what you hear or read from other books, walking is not optional if you wish to experience the flowers and higher peaks of the Bhyundar valley. You can get yourself a health coach, or just follow the basic instructions here.

"Unless you are already fit and healthy, start your fitness program at least 2 months before you go. If you have any concerns, check with your doctor. Walk 6 days of the week, then take a rest day, and after the rest day, lengthen your walks.

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"Start by walking a kilometre or less a day.

"• By the end of the first week, you should be walking two kilometers a day.

"• By the end of the second week, three kilometers in a single stretch.

"• In week three, five kilometers a day; and by week four, you should be walking eight kilometers a day.

"• In week four, start carrying your backpack. At first, load it up with about two kgs, and every day increase it in small increments, so that by week six you are carrying your full load.

"• In week five of your training, walk 10 kilometers on two consecutive days, and on the third day taper back down to five or six kilometers.

"• Continue this for the next three weeks of your training, pushing for longer walks every week.

"• We did four 15–kilometer walks in the last two weeks, with full backpacks, and one 20–kilometer walk.

"You might question why you are training hard for a mere three–day walk, the reason is that the trekking stages are steep, so you should be ready to walk at least 12 kilometers a day."

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"TREK TRAINING FOR THE MONSOON

"Train in the clothes, boots, backpacks and water bottles that you intend to use on the trek. Try out the rain gear. Take a lot of rain gear. To see the valley in full bloom you must go in the monsoon, when it rains. All the time. Everyday, and sometimes all night."

Author gives sensible suggestions, such as walking in the gear you'll need, walking in terrain resembling the destination, etc.

Next, footage, important for trekking, especially in remote Himaalaya heights with uneven terrain under feet.

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"TAKE CARE OF YOUR FEET

"It is vital that you find the right footwear, and you must break them in before you start the trek. There is a huge range of hiking and walking boots, so keep looking, and trying them on until you find the right pair. It’s best to shop for new boots late in the day, after a long walk. Take your socks with you when you try them on.

"Look for footwear that will remain comfortable with two layers of socks, one, a thin cotton–polyester blend or bamboo, and two, a wool–synthetic blend. Don’t buy pure cotton or pure wool socks as you need socks that wick away moisture from your feet.

"I always buy boots which are one size up from my normal size, to accommodate the thick socks, and because feet swell during a long walk. Hiking boots support ankles on tracks that are stony and slippery; boots with enough room at the toes don’t hurt your feet on steep downhill treks.

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"If you already have boots, make sure the tread is good, and check the lacing. Despite all our precautions, one of our party tripped on a hidden rock and the sole peeled neatly away from her boot, and she had no spare boots. After a brief hunt, we found a mochi or shoemaker crouched over his awl under a dripping tarpaulin on the streets of Joshimath. If we had been further along it might have not been possible to get it repaired. The young guide in Ghangaria mentioned that she had to go all the way down to Rishikesh to buy good hiking boots.

"Wear the boots on your training walks to break them in, and so that you can find and solve problems in advance of your trek. For example, my feet started to hurt too much, and it felt like I was coming up with shin splints or tendonitis. A visit to the podiatrist and a pair of orthotics fixed that in a day or so, and I could continue training.

"If you feel blisters coming up, treat them immediately. How do I know if a blister is pending? If you feel any hotspots on your feet, that’s the precursor of a blister.

"Walking on with blisters is bad for your feet."

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"NOURISH YOURSELF

"Use your trek preparation phase to get fit to walk distances at high altitudes. The best way is to improve nutrition. You will find that the extra exercise curbs your appetite and cravings. If you haven’t been taking supplements, consider adding good quality vitamins to your diet."

" ... I found that we were more susceptible to flus and colds when we are off the training! The exercise and supplementation make a difference over the long run.

"We ate a lot of high–quality protein, with good fats and minimal carbs. This encouraged our systems to burn fat rather than sugar, so we shed some weight in the training, to ensure that we were carrying less weight on our bodies. Extra weight on your hips puts more pressure on your knees and ankles when you are walking every day. One kilogram on your hips is four kilograms on your ankles – that is a lot when you are trekking.

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"Cut out sugar, limit alcohol and caffeine, and increase your intake of proteins and salad. It’s amazing how healthy you eat when you have a clear physical and mental goal.

"There is no meat or fish available in the higher reaches of the Himalayas, from Joshimath onwards. Restaurants in Ghangaria may serve eggs, but even these can run out, as everything is carried up on the backs of mules, or porters.

"Whatever your current diet, at high altitudes be prepared to switch to lots of carbohydrates and no alcohol. If you have diabetes or other conditions that affect what you can eat, please check with your doctor, and follow instructions.

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"WATER!

"Always carry at least a litre of clean, filtered water with you on your training walk. This is crucial in your training —you must never forget to carry and drink water!

"Drink at least 2–3 litres of water a day as you train, because you will need it after your walk and throughout the day. As you increase your fitness your body builds more muscle, so you will need more water to flush away any toxins that accumulate after exercise.

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"Just make sure the you are drinking filtered water, as you don’t want to put your kidneys through the extra stress of filtering impure water. Buy or borrow a home water filter before you start your training—this is one of those things that will be with you long after the trek.

"Plan to carry a water bottle with you. Don’t leave a trail of empty plastic bottles behind you. Please."

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PLANNING FOR THE TREK

ANTICIPATION

"It’s always further than it looks. It’s always taller than it looks. And it’s always harder than it looks.

"– Three Rules of Mountaineering"

"Planning the route of your days in the Himalayas ... it can be difficult to change plans on the go. You can build in other trips along with your Valley of Flowers trek, for example, you can take a day extra to travel up to Gobind Ghat, visiting various river confluences and temples on the way up. After the trek, you can continue to Badrinath and Mana, depending on road conditions.

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"INDEPENDENT TRAVELER OR TOUR GROUP

"The next decision is whether you are going independently or with a tour group. There are plenty of these about and it is best to go with those who specialize in this area. In which case, your accommodation will be pre–arranged for you.

"For the trek, avoid large groups. Do not join group treks with strangers, and if possible avoid public transport after Haridwar or Dehra Dun.

"Hire a taxi from a service that assures deep cleaning of the vehicle between passengers, and use the same taxi for the entire journey up and down.

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"If you opt to go independently, be aware that Ghangaria is a tourist village, so you must pre–book, especially if you are particular about your accommodation.

"Free accommodation is available in the pilgrim dormitories of the gurudwaras in Gobind Ghat and Ghangaria. The gurudwaras also have private rooms at reasonable rates. However, if it is pilgrimage season, it may be difficult to find a place, with scores of Sikh pilgrims walking up to Hemkund Sahib. ... "

"Note: Given the need for physical distancing, it is better to opt for the private rooms rather than communal halls, or crowded hostels."

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"PLAN YOUR TREK TRANSPORTATION

"The next decision is about having your luggage, and maybe yourself transported on the trek sections. Gobind Ghat to Ghangaria, is a moderate to difficult trek, it is not for newbies, or the unprepared.

"The following are the stages and my recommendations:

"•Gobind Ghat to Pulna – After crossing the bridge, it’s a steep 4 kms up the side of the gorge. Take the share taxi.

"•Pulna to the bridge at Bhyundar – Moderate, well graded walking path, but with steep twists and turns.

"•Hire a pittoowallah or porter for your luggage

"•Hire a pony for your luggage, or for yourself, and ride up on a well–trained mule accompanied all the way by the ponywallah or muleteer.

"•Byundar Bridge to Ghangaria Camp – Wind along an uphill path lined with and rhododendron. If the bridge is down, you may have to change ponies/porters here.

"•Ghangaria Camp to Ghangaria – A short, but steep climb between towering Himalayan pines, with mossy rocks and flowers peeping out in the undergrowth.

"•Ghangaria to Valley of Flowers check point – Upward slope of about half a kilometer. No ponies are allowed.

"•Checkpoint to Pushpavati river crossing – Gentle downslopes to boisterous river.

"•Pushpavati crossing to Valley of Flowers – steep and winding 1.5 kms, followed by a gentler climb of two kms."

................................................................................................

"HEALTH & SAFETY

"It is safe to walk to the Valley of the Flowers and Hemkund. You can walk alone, or in pairs, or with a group. As usual, take care of your wallet, passport and credit cards by keeping them out of sight and close to you in a travel belt at all times. Unlike many parts of North India, if you are a woman you will not be harassed or importuned.

"There is limited phone coverage after Joshimath. BSNL may work if you have a post–paid account. You can make calls from some shops where they have booths.

................................................................................................

"If you are using trekking poles, adjust them to your height, and the slope of the land. Longer if you are walking downhill and shorter if you are walking uphill. You can also buy stout wooden walking sticks or staffs from Gobind Ghat, Pulna or Ghangaria. The paths are steep and rocky, so you need to pay attention to every step. Plan your trek days carefully, as you can only trek in the daylight. Tripping and hurting yourself is much more likely in the dark.

"Carry snacks and water for the trek. You can buy bottled water in Gobind Ghat, Pulna, Bhyundar village and in Ghangaria.

"There are pay toilets along the trekking route to Ghangaria and Hemkund, but there are none in the Valley. You will have to find a bush. Stay away from water ways, as you don't want to pollute the pristine waters.

"Ensure that you wear gloves and masks before you enter the toilet, and do not allow your backpack to touch any part of the building. For this reason, it’s recommended that you walk with at least one other person, so that you can each look after belongings rather than carry them into the toilets. Carry hand sanitizer, and sanitize your hands after leaving the toilets. Place the mask, if disposable, and gloves into a plastic bag and ensure that you carry your trash with you out of the area.

"The gurudwaras at Gobind Ghat, Ghangaria and Hemkund provide free treatments for minor ailments. There is also a Government-run basic medical facility at Ghangaria."

................................................................................................

"HEALTH IN THE AGE OF THE VIRUS

"Is there a risk of contracting COVID-19? Yes, there is no point saying that the risk is over. On that note, Uttarakhand had one of the lowest rates of infection, however, the majority of trekkers and pilgrims do tend to come from the virus hotspots, the major cities.

"To contain this, entry from particular states maybe forbidden, so check before you go. The Indian government, or the State government may require you to install a virus tracking app on your mobile, and may require more certification of your health status.

"Follow the protocols of hand-washing, not touching your face, and coughing or sneezing into a tissue or your elbow. Wear a mask in public areas, like when buying food or supplies.

"Most importantly, if you have any form of respiratory illness, even a mild cold, do not start the trek.

................................................................................................

"AMS – PREVENTING ACUTE MOUNTAIN SICKNESS

"Altitude sickness is real. The mildest form of acute mountain syndrome (AMS) is altitude sickness, caused when you ascend quickly to a height where there is less oxygen than what your body is accustomed to. Watch out for one or more of these symptoms:

"•Headaches

"•Loss of appetite

"•Nausea

"•Tiredness

"•Trouble sleeping, and

"•Dizziness.

"If you find you are getting breathless without significant exertion, or confused over small things, you may be in danger of the fatal High–Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE). The only remedy for that is to descend immediately.

................................................................................................

"Prevent AMS from destroying your trek by taking early action. The chief problem is the false belief that it is a sign of weakness to take any medication for altitude sickness. Altitude sickness has nothing to do with you, your fitness or your positive attitude. It is only about oxygen and how your body copes with lower levels of oxygen. If you have suffered from altitude sickness before, it will occur again.

"For some people, altitude sickness can start at any height beyond 8000 feet or 2500 meters. At that height the early signs of mountain sickness: tiredness, shortness of breath and inability to sleep can begin. Diamox is the accepted treatment for altitude sickness. You need a prescription from your doctor for Diamox, and you must start this 24 hours before you ascend, and take it daily.

"Other preventive steps are to drink a lot of water, ascend slowly, not more than 500 m a day, and rest between climbs. The ideal itinerary is to add rest days at Auli, Gobind Ghat, and Ghangaria, with another rest day before a second ascent to the Valley of Flowers, or Hemkund Sahib."

................................................................................................

"TRANSPORTATION

"If you are heading into India for this trip, Delhi is the best choice of arrival. You can land at the International airport, catch the Metro to the Domestic Airport (a single stop away), and wait there for your flight to Dehradun. Flights to Dehradun start from 5:30 a.m.

"You need to reach Gobind Ghat, the jump–off point of the trek, a tiny village on the road to Badrinath, from where a trekking path turns off the road to climb into the mountains. The road crosses an iron bridge over the river, and is motorable for four kilometers, before the trekking path begins. Gobind Ghat is in the valley of the Vishnu Ganga, just beyond the confluence where the Vishnu Ganga joins the Alaknanda.

"Buses and Taxis to Auli via Joshimath are available from major destinations of Uttarakhand state like Rishikesh, Pauri, Rudraprayag, Karnaprayag, Ukhimath, Srinagar, and Chamoli.

................................................................................................

"A bus from Rishikesh to Badrinath leaves Rishikesh at 5:30 a.m., reaches Badrinath at 5:30 p.m., after passing Gobind Ghat and Joshimath.

"There are plenty of shared taxis/jeeps, or you can hire one for your own use, either from Haridwar, or Joshimath.

"The road is long, winding and steep, and traffic on it is subject to sudden stops, landslides and long army convoys. If you have any form of motion sickness, take motion sickness medicine, keep some ginger or Hajmola sweets handy.

"If you get bad motion sickness, ask to sit in the front of the vehicle. If you're flying into Dehra Dun, take the (unused) air–sickness bags with you off the plane."

................................................................................................

"FOOD

"There are plenty of hot and hearty meals (and snacks) on the way, served with lashings of hot masala chai, or tea. Take precautions to eat food that is fully cooked, hot and fresh, and wash all fruit in bottled water before you eat it. Avoid all salads or raw cut vegetables and fruit, as you do not know how cleanly they have been prepared.

"Dhabas or roadside food stalls serve basic Indian food on the route up to Ghangaria, and onto to Hemkund, and there's simple free food at the gurudwaras, at guru ka langar. Restaurants and stalls provide vegetarian Indian/Punjabi or even South Indian food in Ghangaria, and Gobind Ghat.

................................................................................................

"For the trek into the Valley of Flowers itself, you must carry your own food and water from Ghangaria. Carry water and force yourself to drink water along the way, however cold and wet it is, as dehydration at high altitudes can precipitate AMS.

"Carry protein bars, nuts or trail–mix to supplement the food, as you may not feel hungry enough for a full meal, despite the delicious food available.

"Avoid sitting in the restaurants, or be prepared for wait periods to allow for distancing. It is better to collect your food in your own containers, and eat it outside in an uncrowded place. Carry your own containers and cutlery and wash them yourself again before eating from them."

................................................................................................

"FEES AND RATES

"You need to pay National Park fees to enter the valley, as well as other costs if you hire a porter or a mule.

"The Forest Department checkpoint, less than a kilometer from center of Ghangaria is where you pay the fee to enter the Valley. Enter your name in a well–thumbed manuscript, and obtain your slightly grubby–looking permit. Make sure you carry appropriate photo ID, Aadhar card for Indians and passport for foreign nationals."

Author provides rates for various fees, which of course are subject to change, but give an idea.

"The fee to enter the Valley of Flowers, is 150 Rupees for Indians and 650 Rupees for foreigners for a 3–day pass. Each additional day is 250 Rupees for foreigners and 50 Rupees for Indians.

"A guide can cost from 1000 to 2000 Rupees. Please do not haggle for their services, it is well worth paying for local knowledge, and remember that they have only a four–month season in which to earn a living.

"Other fees fluctuate from day to day, you could pay 1,000 rupees upwards per person for a porter or a mule, for the trek into Ghangaria from Gobind Ghat. Hire a porter at the minimum to carry your backpack up – you are supporting the fragile Himalayans economy.

"Travel by helicopter from Gobind Ghat to Ghangaria (or the opposite direction) costs about 3,500 rupees one way, per person for a person weighing up to 80 kilograms. More than that and you pay extra per kilogram. You can carry hand baggage of only four kilograms for the helicopter ride, you will have to send the rest of your luggage by porter or mule.

................................................................................................

"WHAT YOU SHOULD WEAR

"You want to look good and be dry and comfortable.

"• Water and wind–proof jacket (maybe with a separate warm jacket inside that can be worn alone if necessary). On some days you will need both, and on others one or the other. Ensure that these have plenty of pockets to stow away your phone, camera, some change and any small things that you don’t want to open your backpack for. In fact, aim to never have to open your backpack while walking.

"•A hidden travel belt under your clothes with your passports, credit cards, extra cash. Carry cash at all times, as the roadside stalls don’t take credit cards.

"•Light water–and wind–resistant walking trousers (though I have seen people wearing skirts, ski pants, sports tights). Make sure the size allows you to tuck your travel belt into it.

"•An inner undershirt—either merino or lighter, NOT cotton.

"•Several long–sleeved or short sleeved T–shirts suitable for the season, either light or merino again, OR a shirt of a material that wicks moisture away, with pockets for safe stowage of your mobile phone and cash for the day.

"•A fleece jacket, a size up from your usual size. This will enable you to wear an extra layer of whatever you have in case it gets chilly.

"•A rainproof jacket that you can slip on over your jacket.

"•A poncho is also a good choice. In fact, I recommend that you definitely use this, even if it is not raining, to protect your clothes from infections

"•A belt for your water bottle, or you can carry this on the sides of your backpack

"•Wear two pairs of socks with well laced up hiking shoes with tough soles, and add a rainproof cover for your backpack and day pack.

"•A sunhat, and a warm hat, as you may need one or the other, or both.

"•A long scarf, bandanna or dupatta to keep your throat warm, and to cover your head in temples or gurudwaras.

"•A small day back to carry water, rain gear, and some food.

"•Carry hand sanitizer, insect repellent, Vicks Vaporub, cough lozenges, and any medication that you would normally use.

"•Mask, or disposable masks. Do not trek in these, but even fairly ordinary masks used when you are signing into your accomodation, or buying food can protect you. Take enough, so that you can change them frequently.

"Gloves, and disposable gloves. The normal gloves may be needed when at higher altitudes, but the disposable gloves are essential for when you are using any public facilities such as toilets, restaurants, or shops.

................................................................................................

"WHERE TO STAY

"The government–run Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam (GMVN) guesthouses provide reliable budget accommodation, and advance bookings are possible and recommended. There are other hotels and guesthouses as well.

"After the first day's drive, spend the night at Joshimath, Auli or Gobind Ghat before starting the trek to Ghangaria. The gurudwaras at Gobind Ghat and Ghangaria offer safe and clean accommodation, and free vegetarian food. There are also private rooms in both gurudwaras on payment if you don’t wish to sleep in the halls or dormitories. Accommodation and food are available to all regardless of religion, caste or gender.

................................................................................................

"At Ghangaria you can find a range of accommodation from cheap guesthouses to “luxury” tents for glamping. Prices range from between 200 rupees to 3,000 rupees per night. Western style toilets and bathrooms are available, and of tolerable cleanliness. Steps to upper levels can be open to the sky, slippery and dangerous, take care, or ask for a lower floor.

"With tourist departments mandating new standards and rules for accomodation, it is best to be prepared to take your own bedding, sheets, and even pillows.

"The cheaper guesthouses and backpacker hostels can be claustrophobic, lack views and have questionable standards of cleanliness. I would avoid these until the pandemic ends.

"Electricity and water supply are erratic, and the only hot water is provided at extra charge by the bucketful. Ask the hotel attendant to leave it outside your room door, rather than carrying it into your bathroom.

................................................................................................

"Carry several sleeping bag liners, and your own sleeping bag and pillows.

"Always get a hotel with insect screens, as despite the cold, the wet brings out monster mosquitoes. I spent an hour on the first evening, swatting the infiltrators individually, before the hotel boy kindly gave me a can of insect spray that blitzed the lot of them. These mosquitos were a centimeter long, black and persistent.

"The solar powered lights come on after dusk for a few hours, so be ready to pack and unpack and leaving your room in a semi darkness.

"Here’s where camping and hiking discipline comes in handy. Line up your backpacks, trekking poles and shoes."

It's unclear if that last sentence was finished.

................................................................................................

"BAGGAGE

"Travel light. But not too light. If you are flying into India, or Dehradun, you will need check–in baggage for your trekking poles, warmer clothes and rain gear.

"If you have backpacks, you will need sturdy waterproof bags to place these into, for loading onto mules. You now need plastic bags to place over these to prevent infection."

................................................................................................

"GETTING to THE START OF THE VALLEY

"The base for the trek to the Valley of the flowers is Ghangaria, a seasonal settlement. The stages for the trek are:

"•Ghangaria to Valley of Flowers check point – Upward slope of about half a kilometer. No ponies are allowed.

"•Checkpoint to Pushpavati river crossing – Gentle downslopes to boisterous river.

"•Dwari Pairi to Baman Daur at Valley of Flowers – a steep and winding 1.5 kms, followed by a gentler climb of 2 kms."

................................................................................................

"TIME AT THE TOP

"The trouble with Hemkund and Valley of Flowers is that you are confined to a short window of time, you must be off the mountain by 5 p.m., so that shrinks the amount of time you have at the top."

Presumably one isn't allowed to stay in the latter, but why the same about the former?

"Plan to leave by 7 a.m., so that you can reach the Valley of Flowers by at least 10 a.m. This will give you time to walk further into the valley, an additional four to five kilometers reveals magic vistas with few crowds and more flowers. The walk down from the Valley can take up to three hours, and plan to start walking back by 2:00 p.m. or 3:00 p.m. at the very latest.

................................................................................................

"The way up to Hemkund is a wider formed path, but take care, the stones can be shaky and slippery, though the path is wider than the narrow path to the Valley of flowers, you still need to to take care, especially in the wet and slippery parts where the path cuts through the glacier.

"Above the forests the sweeping mountain vistas make the long scramble to the top rewarding. Even on a rainy day, you will have patches of sunshine. This path is always populated by pilgrims, but for some reason, maybe the broadness of the path, or the number of teashops to stop and have a cup of tea, make it less crowded.

................................................................................................

"If you like a bit more space, avoid June, as at the start of the season is a time when the gurudwara opens after a long winter, is a busy time. The gurudwaras and hotels are likely to be packed with pilgrims, so ensure that you have confirmed bookings if you must come at this time.

"The season ends in the first week of October, or the first snowfall which ever is earlier."

................................................................................................

"How many decades will there be before the Indian woman is emancipated from the mental, moral and physical slavery she has endured for countless generations?

"– Frank Smythe, The Valley of Flowers"

But more than anything, they are unable to see how west isn't - never was, since about seventeen centuries if not longer - a place of equal treatment for women, much less anything better.

................................................................................................

Kudos to the author, although she's not delving into the other parts why that remark by Smythe was fraudulent in the first place.

................................................................................................

"AN IMPULSE TO ACTION

"It starts as a conversation on Whatsapp across three continents – when were we going to do the things we wanted to do? With the people we wanted to do it with?

"It was already June, and the monsoon was late, it gave us an opportunity – we could walk the Valley of Flowers in early August or September. One by one, we go over the options; independently, or hiring our own taxi, walking on our own, pre–booking? There was no guidebook that we could consult, so we throw our search net far and wide over the internet.

"The options narrow as we realize we have limited time; we cannot wait around to catch buses or shared taxis, and I’m always car–sick on mountain roads. We need our own car and driver. And I need to sit in the front.

................................................................................................

"It later transpires that the roads are so precipitous and wet, and the curves so continuous and convoluted, that I sit one row back in the car, but that’s another story.

................................................................................................

"THE 10–DAY PLAN

"This then was the 10–day plan:

"Day One – from Dehradun airport to Kirtinagar.

"Day Two – from Kirtinagar to Auli, a long and winding drive.

"Day Three – A day’s acclimatization at Auli with a trek to Gorson Top.

"Day Four – Drive to Gobind Ghat and walk to Ghangaria.

"Day Five – Walk into Valley of Flowers

"Day Six – Walk into the Valley of Flowers

"Day Seven – Walk to Hemkund Sahib

"Day Eight – Walk back to Gobind Ghat. Drive to Auli via Badrinath and Mana.

"Day Nine – Drive back to Haridwar

"Day Ten – Drive to Jolly Grant airport and fly out.

"And because of the monsoon, we factor in landslides and rain.

................................................................................................

"Many years ago, we had booked a rafting holiday in Rishikesh. On the drive up from Delhi a truck smashed into our car and sent us hurtling off the crossroads into a ditch full of murky water. Luckily, we had no major injuries, but that shook us up so much that we returned to Delhi and abandoned our rafting plan. Many decades later we rafted over the rapids as part of a white water expedition. But that road to Rishikesh always reminds me of that frantic drive and for years we couldn’t eat aloo paratha, as that is what we were eating when that truck slammed into us and vanished into the dusty distance.

"On this trip that ghost of aloo paratha would be laid to rest."

................................................................................................

"LOSING MY NOTES

"At the long wait at Kuala Lumpur, I fill a notebook with ideas, then rush through security, sit down again and get the notebook out. My heart sinks, I scrabble through the bag. No book. Losing fresh written words – they’re gone forever. No use crying over lost words."

It's unclear why she couldn't have used a tab and saved them on the web, instead. This ought to be possible while they were fresh in mind, in recovery mode, even if one wrote on paper in first place.

But the real confusion is about her flight originating elsewhere, after she's just talked about not only her family roots in South India but also about "we" having transformed Bangalore, making one infer that she, if not the whole group, went from Bangalore to Bhyundar.

"In Delhi, it’s an easy transit to the Domestic Terminal. Walk out, turn right and cross the road to the Metro station."

It was an easy walk just two decades ago. Must have developed since then.

"In the pre–dawn the bright lights were still blazing as we tumble into the packed terminal, and a wild wave above reveals Shanti, just in on a red eye flight from a business conference in Singapore.

"At a certain age, you are averse to risk taking – and want to spend your precious holiday time with people who you know and like and trust. Pick your friends carefully in your youth. They are almost the only friends who will last the course.

"We flee the dirty grey skies and murky clouds of Delhi and in half–an hour we glide over emerald hills threaded through with shining rivers as we come in to land at Dehra Dun. The adventure begins."

................................................................................................

"The Ganga, is the river of India, beloved of her people, round which are intertwined her racial memories, her hopes and fears, her songs of triumph, her victories and her defeats.

"― Jawaharlal Nehru"

And as for Ganga, yes it's loved, but even more, revered. Nehru's quote there would make a stranger think India grew as a culture on banks of Ganga, and that's less than a half truth.

And India sees this relationship still the same way. Ganga is river of Gods, a Goddess descended from heaven.

................................................................................................

"The low green ridges and glinting streams vanish as we to come to rest at Jolly Grant airport. No one listens to the announcements as people leap up to grab bags, laptops and clothes from the overhead lockers. They’re in a hurry to dash into the mountains. Who or what was Jolly Grant – that name makes me smile as we shake ourselves out of our seats and do an impromptu jig in the aisle – having eaten our second South Indian breakfast of the day, we need to move along.

"Sleepless travel nights end in double breakfasts, and views of the Shivaliks, the low foothills of the mighty Himalayas. We venture into these today."

Author giver her itinerary in a graph that has names making one nostalgic about our own journey some three decades ago, travelling up along Ganga from Prayag to Haridwar and thence to Kedarnath and Badrinath.

"Down the stairs, we stream over the warm tarmac into the small airport terminal, eager for our great adventure. Shanti and I head off purposefully towards the “Ladies”, there will no more toilets for some time.

"Outside a scream of cars and motor vehicles swoop past, stopping briefly to scoop up their targets – but ours is a few minutes away, and we stand about in the cool air laughing and talking and thinking of the trip. We descend back to giggles as a certain joy wells up – just a great sense of joy – is this what hundreds of sages have felt as they approach the mighty Himalayas?"

Every Indian does.

And hence, too, the Hindi films shot in Swiss locales, easier done than in Himaalaya.

"Our taxi swerves into the gate and halts before us, with the early arrivals, Anju and Vibha waving at us. There can be little doubt that we are off on a girls own adventure."

................................................................................................

"JOLLY HAPPY CHAPPIE

"I forget the lost notebook and any trepidations of the trek, with an airport called Jolly and a driver called Happy. This bodes well. Rain or no rain, this is not going to be anything but spectacular in this company.

"We reflect modern India. Two North Indians who grew up in South India, and two South Indians who grew up in North India, all talking mostly English, at Indian speed of thought, and complete lack of personal space.

"The luggage is stashed on the roof, wrapped up in tarps, as it can rain anytime. We head out, and Anju and Vibha pull out special Haridwar treats. And Shanti produces parathas and chillas from her bag. We will never starve in this company. I have visions of us tramping along the high Himalayas in a snowstorm, and then sitting down and pulling out our second breakfasts. I have my hobbit cape on the ready.

"We fling off the dusty outskirts of Dehra Dun as we plunge into a finger of forest that Happy assures is the lair of bears and leopards. At Rishikesh, the last temple town, before the Ganges leaves the mountains forever, we push on and promise ourselves that we will attend aarti on the way back. In any case, Happy tells us, the Laxman Jhula footbridge over the Ganga is closed. Anticipation climbs over the day of temple visits and dips in the Ganges, as we brush up on our Hindi and mythology."

................................................................................................

"A HOW NOT TO DRIVE ON MOUNTAINS"

Presumably she means, how not to drive in mountains.

"Happy is a veritable fount of knowledge about temples and obscure myths, all recounted in chaste Hindi that sometimes foxes me. Bless ourselves with Chintis? Ants? That can’t be right?"

"The road unspools ahead of us, and the curves climb higher and steeper. Happy whips the car along at speeds that take our breath away, are we going over the edge?

"The highway will get worse soon, says Happy, so when we have the chance we should drive fast on the good roads.

"Right, so we are heading fast into a week of slowing down.

................................................................................................

"A steady flow of cars, buses and trucks lumber on. At the side of the road, there is continuous work to hold back the rebellious mountainside. Vast baskets of wire and blocks of yellow shaded rock try to keep the mountain from collapsing onto the thin thread of road. I wonder if it will work, at times an unrestrained waterfall bursts down the steep cliffs and flows over the road in a defiant slick of muddy water.

"Will we find a place that we can get down to the banks of the sacred river?

"Through the green foothills, we pass narrow shanty towns racked with rusty tin roofs. At last, a place where we can walk down to the river and immerse our feet in the holy water of the Ganges. Ganges water is central to all blessing rituals, from birth to death. And treks, we would like this blessing before we walk."

Oh, i remember I immersed myself as far as possible, worried only about the tremendous force of the flow, completely clothed, of course - a middle aged male from the GMVN tour came over to watch, nevertheless, despite the fact that we were obviously a couple, and my partner was keeping a watch over, looking out for me.

................................................................................................

"SACRED FEET"

" ... I shiver with the sudden cold for a minute before we splash into the river, spreading out our arms to balance between the rocks and pebbles on the riverbed. ... "

"There is no doubt that the adventure has begun – and like our ancestors, rather than visiting a temple or a cathedral, we are here feet in the river, in a prayer to the mountains. Are we accessing the collective imaginations of a subcontinent and beyond. Is it the mountains themselves that are the heavens or gods? Can mere lumps of rock and ice fill us with such awe?"

"In this place she is still the sparkling stream running off the dreadlocked plait of blue necked Shiva. In this area is the Chota Char Dham, the four temples sacred to the myths: the muscularity of Kedarnath and Badrinath, and flowing softness of Gangotri and Yamunotri, a perfect balance of Yin and Yang."

Funny, that's how my partner saw it too, when we couldn't make the complete four week trip and had to choose, and he said he preferred mountains to rivers. I was fine going with his selection of Badrinath and Kedarnath, although left to my choice I'd have selected Gangotri and Yamunotri.

It's only later that it became clear, that either way we had both Ganga and Himaalaya all along! Just different tributaries, was all.

................................................................................................

"It wasn’t the sinous curves on the road that were making me hold my breath. Around every curve could appear that magic moment where geography and myth collide – the confluence of the ardent Alaknanda and the blissful Bhagirathi, the point at which the two seminal streams become the Ganga, the marriage of heaven and earth."

Author includes a nice photograph here of the confluence at Devprayag, literally Confluence of Gods. Here, all three major tributaries have come together - Bhagirathi from Gaumukha and Gangotri, Alaknanda from Badrinath and Mandakini (which has already merged with Alaknanda at Rudraprayag upriver) from Kedarnath - and hereon downriver, it's Ganga.

................................................................................................

"Round a curve and dripping down the hillside, Devprayag steps down to the bathing ghats at the edge of a peaked temple. Happy evicts us, and instructs us to descend, sprinkle Ganges water over our heads and clamber up a covered ramp to the road on the opposite side of the valley. We’re not used to these brusque commands to holiness, but the dancing confluence below draws us down into a sacred vortex."

We were better off than that, although at the time that wasn't clear. Our tour stopped here for the night, and we walked across town to find a dhaba across the Bhagirathi river over a small bridge, run by a poor family, for a very simple homely meal. Back at the GMVN guest house rest of them didn't fare so well.

But next day, bathing at the confluence, simply fantastic!

" ... The bridge sways as we move from side to side to get the best photos and then it’s down the broken concrete steps to the prayag, or confluence."

................................................................................................

What on earth is the author describing? Is it effect of yhe dam up river?

We saw, in summer of 1993 at Devprayag, Bhagirathi a tremendously powerful torrent, roaring white over the rocks, while Alaknanda was a smooth blue flow, just as powerful but quiet, silent.

I recall my partner describing it as us, and his saying he was like Alaknanda, just as powerful but quieter than Bhagirathi.

................................................................................................

"On the return journey, we will meet the same river gliding sedately along at Haridwar, festooned with bright temples tinkling with brass bells, and flickering with a thousand lamps of glowing wicks dipped in ghee. But here, she is a wild young woman leaping off the mountain in a hurry to get to her destiny as the life giver of the northern plains of India.

"Is that us too? The four of us, reinventing ourselves in our late prime. At our age, our mothers, sat down with knitting and grandchildren on the knees. We are pushing those same knees to climb mountains, and invent some goddesses for ourselves."

................................................................................................

"A CLIFF–HANGER OF A LUNCH

"The road to Joshimath is magical, even the dhabas hover in thin air over the plunging cliffs. Parking on a tiny sliver of flat ground, we stop for lunch at a dhaba with no name and a river view. Through the grimy windows are ploughed fields edged by the glinting waters, and a set of rickety stairs tempt us up onto the roof. No railings or protection from the gusty wind, nothing but air separates us from a rural Himalayan scene, with a boiling river and opposite us a single hillock rises above a sandy white river beach."

"And then the rain rushes down on us. There will be no more temple visiting for the day. Happy concedes defeat and drives us to the hotel at Kirtinagar where we experience for the first time sets of interminable wet stairs tacked onto outer walls of buildings."

................................................................................................

"DANCING BY THE ALAKNANDA

"Pushing open the creaking doors to the balcony lets the musty air out and the soft Himalayan air in. The Alaknanda roars beneath, flanked by a green lawn, on which two mountain ponies graze, swishing their tails, and blinking large lashes against the rain. Their bells tinkle through the rain and the roar. The rain thins to a drizzle, and we troop down to the river terrace, where Vibha leads us in a dance meditation – my dance moves need significant correction, but the meditation and stretching helps after the long hours crumpled in the car.

"Then it’s time for the evening meal, palak paneer and the piping hot aloo parathas, with a mix of pickles and fragrant masala tea. The manager assures us that there will be early breakfast and tea for us in the morning complete with more aloo parathas.

"The whirling vortex of the day stills. Last night I was on a plane over the Bay of Bengal, tonight I’m sleeping by a river and on the edge of an adventure. The sound of Himalayan rain blunts the sound of the torrent that fills the slumbering valley.

................................................................................................

"We will follow the course of the Alaknanda all the way up to Gobind Ghat. I think of the explorer, Frank Smythe, headed up these verdant valleys, walking all the way with his entourage of porters and ponies. We have Happy, and a jeep piled high with backpacks. There are roads now, I feel some regret at the speed at which we will whirl past the many valleys and the innumerable hikeable tracks that we miss. Speed equals loss.

"I plan to subvert Happy–ji’s compulsory temple visiting plan tomorrow. The mountains are cathedrals enough for me."

" ... Tomorrow we will reach Auli for a day and night of acclimatization before we push on to the Valley of Flowers."

................................................................................................

"As the dew is dried up by the morning sun, so are the sins of mankind by the sight of the Himalayas.

"—Skanda Purana"

What an utterly lovely imagery, and how true!

................................................................................................

"Every roadside shack has a wonderful view on this path to paradise. It’s a long uphill drive today to Auli and we have multiple confluences or prayags, each with a temple that we will have to visit.

"The first town is Srinagar, the capital of the Garhwal region, not the one in Kashmir, though it is said that a sage from here visited Kashmir and founded that city. A large city along a wide valley, it clings to the mountains, but the river has been known to burst it banks and wash homes and farms away, so homes near the river live dangerously. In fact, the flood of 1894, utterly destroyed the old town. We pass through the “new” town, rebuilt in 1901, with Happy determined that we stop at our first temple, a women’s temple to a Himalayan goddess."

................................................................................................

"THE MAROONED GODDESS

" ... goddess Dhari Devi. It’s a women’s shrine ... "

If, on the other hand, the temple of Dhara Devi is restricted only for women, that would certainly be rare.

................................................................................................

"A rusted door bangs intermittently on a derelict cable car dangling midway over the torrent on a twisted wire rope. A relic of the 2013 floods that smashed down this valley, ripping out all the bridges, concrete footings and all. They called the army out for a huge search and rescue operation, and later they installed these cable cars to allow villagers to venture across the river, thereby also ruining the impromptu holidays of scores of rained in children."

Seriously, cable cars ruined holidays of children?

"A mist floats on top of the river even now, late in the morning, as the river thunders around the curve. In the roar is the creak of the rope and the dull thumps from the cable car, and I strain to hear the still small voice of the Spirit that created this mysterious web of water and earth, and brought me here to create this perfect moment."

Is the author trying to be fashionably anti-machinery?

................................................................................................

"A TRILOGY OF PRAYAGS

Who does the author think is the temple at Gangotri for worship of, even apart from the every day worship of Ganga - the river - at Haridwar, Kashi, and various other places, regularly?

This is apart from the fact that these who so wish can worship Ganga at any point along the river. And of course, Prayag is a major place of the said worship of Ganga.

................................................................................................

"At Rudraprayag the temples and river march straight down to the confluence of the Mandakini and the Alaknanda. Chamunda, the wife of Rudra also has her temple here at the prayag in perfect harmony of male and female."

"We stop at the only Krishna temple on the route, a tiny brightly colored shrine perched at the confluence of the Pindar and the Alaknanda at Karnaprayag, another of the sacred confluences or prayags. After we visit the tiny temple perched on a platform beneath large banyan trees, we stroll down to the quieter confluence."

Badrinath is, incidentally, a Vishnu temple, apart from Haridwar being named after both Shiva and Vishnu - strict Shaivaites call it Hardwar - but Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, isn't much in evidence as a separate presence along Ganga; then again, nor is Raama, who did cross the river more than once, but not along the upper reaches of the river.

................................................................................................

"At Nandprayag the Mandakini, proceeding from the pristine heights of Nanda Devi, and the Alaknanda meet at a boulder strewn confluence. ... "

It's actually Nandakini at Nandprayag, 'proceeding from the pristine heights of Nanda Devi', while Mandakini flows down from Kedarnath to merge with Alaknanda at Rudraprayag.

................................................................................................

"FIRST VIEWS OF THE SNOWS

"At Pipalkoti, in the cleft of the valley, we see it, the snow peaks of the Himalayas at last, wreathed in clouds, but unmistakable in their glow as they float across the sky. We stop and lift our eyes to the far horizon. ... "

"This is special, and soon we stop again at Garur Ganga, hunting for special stones in the pebbled riverbed below the temple after making our offering. A stone to protect our home from snakes of all kinds.

"From here on the chatter quietens, as the road narrows and the gears grind for the serious climb towards to our final stop for the day. The road is steep, and the valleys plunge into infinity. Peeking over the side, the road below is a tiny thread that switches back in infinite loops above an invisible stream that gleams when vagrant rays of sunlight make it to the valley floor."

" ... Hathi Parbat and Gauri Parbat hide behind white clouds, teasing us with rare glimpses."

................................................................................................

"MAGICAL AULI

"Perched high above the confluence of the Alaknanda and the Dhauli, Joshimath is ensconced in a circular depression, its protected position made it the winter retreat of the priests from Badrinath. A vital stop for pilgrims, it’s original stone temples ... "

Author indulges again there in reminding people about her impressions of ugliness due to one reason or another.

................................................................................................

"In winter a cableway allows day access to the ski slopes of Auli, but for us, we take the road. The increasingly steep roads climb to Auli, through apple orchards heavy with fruit, passing army cantonments, and later school buses packed with smartly dressed schoolkids – another reminder of army days. Joshimath and the Valley of Flowers are close to the Indo Tibetan border here, and the army is on constant alert.

"At last the road ends, literally. Up steep flights of stairs with broken treads, pay attention as the steps are of irregular heights. Later we meet a group of retired professors, and while they are sprightly, I wonder how they managed the stairs, but the secret is out. There is another approach. You can drive up to the cable car station and then walk down a short set of stairs to the resort.

"But for now, the "boys" from the resort come down and carry our bags up to the log cabins with the most magnificent views of the Himalayas. ... From Kamet, to Neelkanth to Nanda Devi, all the abundance of peaks leaves us silent."

"At dusk, the camp is wreathed in a ghostly mist, but later in the night the mist clears and before us like magnificent ships of the night the mountains float in the moonlight. The Neelagiri massif sits astride the horizon, and to it’s right, Gauri Parbat and Hathi Parbat hover in the distance, while closer to us Dunagiri raises a toothed spear to the sky."

................................................................................................

"As we came out of the upper forest onto a wide alp. The clouds parted, revealing the great massif of Gauri Parbat and Hathi Parbat, and almost before I had time to take in the grandeur of this sudden revelation, a terrific icy spire, shining and immeasurably remote, thrust itself through the clouds, Dunagiri.

"Frank Smythe, The Valley of Flowers"

................................................................................................

"Rain again, in the darkness after moonset ... in the Himalayas the rain can be horizontal. The day dawns early, but the high peaks mean that the only visible sunrise is a faint rose blush on the far mountains. The rain washes all the moisture out to reveal the views from 5 a.m., range after range, black and snowy, from dark jagged peaks to soft snow flurries stretch to the far horizons all the way to Tibet.

................................................................................................

"TO THE MEADOW

"Gorson Top trail is our treat of the day, a short six–kilometer return hike through a Himalayan pine chir forest and up to the alpine meadows of Gorson bugyal. Today we will meet our Valley of Flowers guide, sign disclaimers, plan the trek, and learn what to expect.

"But for now, it’s out to trek to the meadow. We saunter out past log cabins and rooms with mountain views, clamber up yet more stairs and come to the cable car station. I tilt my head, shading my eyes, and on impulse decide to ride the cable car for a five–minute ride to the lake. The grey bearded guard clanks the safety rail down over me and I forget my vertigo, as we glide upwards on the metal wire of the ropeway. Beneath us trekkers are plodding along ... Then it’s off and through some slushy paths to the lake."

"Still higher on the slope is another grey glassed in cable station, where Asia’s highest cable car ropeway connects the slopes with Joshimath, a four–kilometer ride. The pillars and cables vanish downhill out of sight. Feeling brave after my short cable car ride, I resolve to come back one winter. I forget my resolution not to repeat places."

"The names of the soaring peaks are the stuff of legend. In a vista from Neelkanth to Nanda Devi, one enormous massif after another rears its rocky snow flecked head in a majestic march across a blindingly blue Himalayan horizon. Not just home of the snows, Home of the Gods indeed. It is no wonder that Adi Shankaracharya seized upon this area to ... Hinduism from the push of ... Buddhism. ... "

................................................................................................

"MEETING FRANK IN THE MEADOW

"Out onto the meadow, we blink in the sudden light as the sun strikes us sharp and clear, and we flop down on the grass, amidst bunches of flowers, like living bouquets, white and blue anemones, daisies and mountain marigold. Then we scale some rocks and a rolling vista of flower studded meadows unfolds. In the distance the toiling figures of the three women, the cow and the calf fade into the mist like fantasy figures from a myth, and even the tinkle of the cowbells disappears."

"The clouds have vanished, and the vast range dominates the horizon beneath a brilliant blue sky. From Neelkanth, Kamet, Neelagiri, Hathi, Gauri Parbat and on to Dunagiri, are all so close it seems we could touch them – except for the dizzying chasms between us. Only Nanda Devi sheathes herself in mist. The goddess is still hiding herself.

................................................................................................

"“.. a small woman driving some oxen appeared. She seemed terrified when I questioned her and hastened by with averted eyes.”"

Good heavens, are they both stupid?

And the women whom author met had no reason to fear a small bunch of city slicker women, especially when they - the rural ones - were handling bellowing bulls.

................................................................................................

" ... The guide points out where the Valley of Flowers nestles beneath Kamet and Neelagiri. We strain our eyes to see it. It seems impossibly high and impossibly far. I wonder if it was better to walk there and slowly ascend in the manner of pilgrims of old."

"Back at the camp, we revel in the spectacular views as we sip tea in front of our log cabins. Nothing is grander than this. The sun disappears suddenly, ... "

"At moonrise a wash of mountain scape captures us while we sip more hot tea, but the lure of hot baths drags us indoors, hot water being available only for half an hour."

................................................................................................

"Finding the Goddess"

Author's titles and subtitles, too, betray an anxiety to distance self from India while at the same time assert a woman's right.

"Finding the Goddess", for heaven's sake, while in India? Which particular one?

Or is author really unaware of just how generous India is with number of Gods and Goddesses - who, most often, are only seen in pairs, even if worshipped jointly or separately as per occasion or choice, especially when it comes to Divine in male form. And the one usually worshipped sole, is most often a Goddess, whether one of the ultimate ones, or Ganga, or a lesser one.

................................................................................................

"In a hundred ages of the Gods I could not tell thee of the glories of Himachal.

"–Sage"

And here, by Himachal, what's meant is not merely the state- in North India in Himaalaya neighbourhood - by that name, Himaalaya region in its entirety - peaks and valleys, rivers and forests and more.

Also, perhaps those from elsewhere other than India might not quite comprehend just what it means when the sage says "hundred ages of the Gods", but it's not a vague expression. Far from it.

................................................................................................

"Out of the snug beds at 5 a.m., it’s a rush of stuffing backpacks and labelling baggage. On go all the layers, like good hikers we are prepared to peel on or peel off layers, depending on the weather. Today’s the first day of a long trek, on goes the Vicks Vaporub on my feet, followed by the two pairs of socks, and then the boots, laced up correctly. Check – Raingear is handy, and water bottles are ready for filling, snacks and trail mix accessible?

"On the guide’s orders, like good soldiers, we are prepped and ready by 6:30 a.m. We dodge the early rain, making a beeline for breakfast. But, no one told the camp kitchen that we needed early tea and breakfast, so despite the early rising, there is no 7 a.m. departure. The kitchen hut is silent, no smoke billows out of the chimneys and long lumpy sleeping bags move slightly on the kitchen floor when we shout out “Good morning”!"

................................................................................................

"TROUBLE IN PARADISE

"This is a serious annoyance and it rapidly worsens. We expect basic services, if this camp is only for trekkers to the Valley of Flowers only, don’t they know that the guides want us to be on our way early?

"But we have time to take more photos, as in the early morning nothing obscures the face of the mountain. Breakfast is even later than usual, and even after that, we wait until we find out why. It seems there is a war of pettiness between the kitchen staff and cleaners and the guides, and we get caught in the middle. Maybe Lean, or Agile methodology could work here – a seminar on “Start with Why”, but we push those thoughts away, it is far too much like work.

................................................................................................

"The story unfolds grudgingly, the other small group that should have joined us arrived late at night and slept in, and then, their payment does not go through. Not a surprise, seeing that internet access at Auli was less than stellar. The guide dismisses us, urging us to join another large group of 20 strangers. Don’t get me wrong, we’re ready to be flexible, but not be pushed around. Don’t mess with us because we are women – we object and refuse to back down until the owner steps in to resolve the issue.

"Not a good start, marking an uneasy relationship with the tour guide. Given that we had paid a lot of money each, this was poor service and we were not ready to suck it up. It mars the start of a magical trek, so do consider the wisdom of putting all your eggs in one basket. With excellent hindsight, it is not too hard to arrange this trek on your own, because despite the “end–to–end” nature of the tour we had purchased, there were irritants, like a pebble in your boot.

"We set off past 10 a.m., with no time to stop on the way (for more of Happy’s temples), reach Gobind Ghat, and then walk the 11 kilometers up to Ghangaria. But we have to fix Shanti’s shoe. At Joshimath an old–school mochi hunched over his awl at the side of the road, repairs the boot. He mentions that his sons manage the two posh shoe shops opposite him. He is the last generation of roadside mochis, once ubiquitous in any town in India. Was this progress? Maybe, maybe not. Sole safely reattached with glue and neat stitching, we’re on our way.

................................................................................................

"THE ALAKNANDA GORGE

"On the brief drive downhill from Joshimath, the sides of an ever younger Alaknanda press in on us. Happy scowls that we will miss the temple at Vishnuprayag. For once I agree as we whizz by, this prayag is the wildest, the flung spray showering the temple with icy water. Plunging through vertical gorges, this is where the Vishnu Ganga meets the tumultuous Alaknanda, the first, or last of the Panch Prayags of the Alaknanda. The gorge walls are nearly perpendicular, and the Vishnu Ganga is as riotous as the Alaknanda. We are still on the ancient pilgrim trail to Badrinath, in the footsteps of millions of pilgrims from ages past and all over India.

"We pull into Gobind Ghat, before the bridge, where a huge elevated road sign points the way to the Valley of Flowers as a dotted trail. As we leave the taxi, Happy promises to pick us up from the same place when we get back in a few days. He reminds us that Gobind Ghat is another place where you can buy gear that you may have forgotten for the trek, cheap rain gear, used shoes, and stout walking sticks, and locally grown apples, other fruit and water.

................................................................................................

"A cacophony blasts us as we leave the safety of Happy’s taxi. Ponywallah or muleteers crowd us in, offering mules, luggage services and general chaos. The guide stands apart and refuses to help, leaving us to negotiate the melee as best we can. The argument is that the tour operators could not know the price on the day – an irritant that annoys when you have picked an operator who claims to know and do everything. Or maybe he was just furious at our altercations earlier in the day.

"The sky buzzes, and a helicopter comes whirring low over our heads descending rapidly to the helipad below the gurudwara, about half a kilometer down the road towards Badrinath. They buzz up and down the valley between 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., in the season, weather permitting. However, the wait can be a few hours. But it is a four–minute ride, compared to a four to five–hour walk.

"But no helicopter for us, we’re here to walk.

"We cram into a packed share jeep, cross the suspension bridge, and head off to Pulna the road–head. We waved at trekkers walking up the road. The four kilometer walk from Pulna does not tempt us, a tarred road with lots of traffic, and little or no shade all the way to Pulna. If you do wish to walk all the way, give yourself enough time, as it is a steep hike with uncertain weather. Rain and mist can complicate the trek and you must reach Ghangaria before night fall, so walking from Gobind Ghat is only for the fast and fit."

................................................................................................

"PRESSING ON FROM PULNA

"From the shop lined street at Pulna, the stone–lined path shaded with Himalayan oak and rhododendron climbs around the first curve. The path runs all along the valley side, beneath us to the right, the Bhyundar Ganga rushes down to meet the Alaknanda.

"But first we negotiate luggage rates with the muleteers, load up the mules1, or hire a porter to carry your daypack. Why not? This is also the place to hire animal or human transport for the trek. Mules, porters and palkis are all available.

"You can hire a pittoowallah, or porter to carry you all the way – you sit backwards in a basket that the porter hefts onto his back and off you go. This can be nerve–wracking, but hold your nerve and do not move in the basket.

"And there is is the palki option, where like days of old you sit in a seat and four porters bear you aloft, balancing the poles on their shoulders."

Sedan chair, as it's termed in English.

................................................................................................

"After a quick stop for tea and fortifying snacks, we sidle past a herd of tethered mules, avoiding the steaming heaps of dung, and the wrong end of a mule. Notice how it keeps it left leg on tiptoe? This is not an elegant pose for Instagram, this is to get in a swift kick to anyone coming too close. The backward kick of a mule can break bones and put a painful end to your trek. I know this as a military brat who grew up around animal transport companies. The “ponies” are in fact mules, or Khachads. A mule is the offspring of a male donkey and a mare, and is an artificial infertile breed created by humans. These civilian mules in Pulna are no match for the handsome, strong mules bred for the Army. ... "

"India's Prevention of Cruelty to Draught and Pack Animals Rules, 1965, says the maximum load for mules is 200 kilograms, however the US Army specifies a maximum of 20 percent of body weight for mules walking up to 20 miles a day in mountains, giving a load of up to about 200 pounds or 91 kg. The mules here carry less than 100 kgs of weight, so animal–lovers need not stress.2

................................................................................................

"If you have any doubts about your ability to walk 11 kilometers uphill, hire a mule. The mules are sure–footed and intelligent, their stubbornness makes them refuse to put their lives (and yours) in danger. Even though they step to the very edge of precipices and stop to nibble on flowers, riding up is a good option if you cannot walk.

"Simple rules for riding up mountains on mules

"•Lean forward on the uphill

"•Lean backward on the downhill to help the mule balance

"•Don’t panic if the pony man drops the lead rope

"•Let the animal to make its own way up the steeper slopes

"•Let them eat the flowers. They’re animals, flowers are food.

"It’s time to set out on the first walk, the hike up the Laxman Ganga, first to reach the confluence of the Laxman Ganga and the Bhyundar, and then to follow the Bhyundar valley up to Ghangaria."

................................................................................................

"Lush sub–tropical vegetation flourishes by the sides of the cobbled path and the river runs loud with high lacy waterfalls splashing down dark cliffs across the valley.

"I take it slowly, as the air begins to thin, and tiredness can set in quicker than expected at these altitudes. Pavilions span the path with stone benches to sit down, take a rest, and enjoy the view, but it’s too early in the walk. I pass by with a wave to fellow trekkers.

"The path almost sparkles. Government sweepers keep the footpath clear of steaming mule droppings but armed with long brooms they also badger you relentlessly for tips.

................................................................................................

"I cross trekkers form all over India, and Sikh pilgrims, their hearts intent on Hemkund Sahib. It’s not just us with an enormous thirst for adventure today, it’s in our pilgrim heritage. Is that what drove us to this hard walk?

"Glancing to the right, the Bhyundar Ganga flows swiftly, with little beaches and even the occasional terraced field, while across the valley, unnamed waterfalls tumble into the river from the steep gorge sides. Bursts of flowers bloom heedlessly by the sides of the path, Himalayan balsam peep out in flushes of pink. Tiny bees hover over golden daisies nestling under mossy grey–green rocks.

"Higher, the air cools to form the occasional evanescent mist. I switch between sunhat and a warm hat and drop the poncho over my head as I adjust the trekking poles to cope with the sudden steepness of unevenly laid stones.

................................................................................................

"BHYUNDAR JUNCTION

"A couple of hours of steady ascent, and Bhyundar village appears, a clutch of make–shift shops and scattered mud and stone dwellings on the hillsides. The Bhyundar Ganga joins the Laxman Ganga here to continue down to Gobind Ghat. Bhyundar is Pulna’s summer grazing village where the shepherd families would drive their flocks to feed on the rich grasses of the high meadows, before moving them on to Tibet for sale.

"The dilapidated huts scattered on the hillside reflect the vanishing nomadic lifestyle because of the closing of the mountain passes to Tibet. No longer do the lonely shepherds drive their shaggy herds of goat and sheep through the high passes beyond the lush meadows.

................................................................................................

"At the wide boulder–strewn confluence, we collapse in one of the myriad teahouses for a rest and lunch, happy to shrug off the day packs, and gulp down tea as we wait for piping hot aloo parathas."

"While the steaming masala tea and water are better than all the soft drinks, there is no option for water except bottled water, but take care not to throw the bottle anywhere except in a bin. The Garhwal tourism department carries all the waste off the mountain, on mules."

................................................................................................

"At Bhyundar village, reality confronts us. The previous day, a fierce storm from the mountains funneled through the valley and tossed the iron bridge aside. Now only a fragile suspension bridge dangles over the raging boulder–rolling waters. No mules allowed on the bridge.

"A rough path loops along a nullah, up a steep slope covered in deep vegetation, and we must inch up it to cross on a temporary bridge. Access to the bridge is via a rough path, on one side a deep stone lined channel, and on the other, the vertical wedge of hacked out earth towers above us. From higher up we hear the swish of grass cutting scythes, and the voice of village women. ..."

"We clamber uphill, past some desolate huts and take a sharp right turn downhill to the temporary suspension bridge, struggling over loose broken rocks, construction materials, coarse sand and pebbles. ... "

"After a short rest I tackle the last steep ascent to Ghangaria, our destination for the day. Towering conifers close in overhead, moss–covered boulders bloom with flowers below and above. Strings of mules decorated with bells, and gaily colored ribbons, plod up or down, carrying nervous riders clinging to the pommels with sweaty palms. Strings of mules with tightly lashed crates of food or lumpy construction material struggle up the broken stone path. And beside them the sure–footed pony boys or men run alongside, shouting encouragement or abuse at the mules at every “last turn”. I catch up with Vibha here and we want to walk in together, nearly there goes on for some time."

................................................................................................

"GLAMPING AT THE HELIPAD

"The forest ends abruptly, and we emerge onto a wide flat meadow and in front, Rataban glows though the cleft of the steep valley. Myriad delicate waterfalls tumble down from remnants of glaciers clinging to the sides of the gorge.

"I stop, leaning on the trekking poles to gaze at a swaying encampment of tents. Rows and rows of “Swiss tents”, with rooms and vestibules to sit out are the luxury accommodation, and booked up to a year earlier. Looking out, there are vistas of the mountain, meadow and glacier, and all day, the buzzing sound of helicopters landing and taking off from the helipad.

"Gripping the trekking poles and shaking out my legs get moving again we pass the glamour of the tent city, up the path that disappears into the last grove of Himalayan pines. Something jingles ahead, and there’s a flat area where a herd of mules fidget and toss their heads to flick flies from their eyes."

................................................................................................

"INTO GHANGARIA

"Other trekkers stop off at the GMVN tourist cabins and huts that dominate the entrance set among patches of lawn with bricked over paths. Moving on backpacker hostel–like accommodation and to "luxury" hotels alike are identified by temporary polyester banners, there’s an impermanence here, like all of Ghangaria.

"We peer through glass–paned polished wooden windows at eating areas laid out neatly with tables and chairs. Reading the menus, it looks like they serve mostly Punjabi food, or generic Indian food, sweets and tea. On the roadside stalls, the smell of hot Samosas and pakoras being fried in huge pans tempt us to stop. The best thing you can get after a day’s walk is the hot pakoras and or jelabis, to go with your steel tumblers of tea. But ahead we see something more tempting, a room set up with chairs and foot massagers, excellent after a day of walking, and we stop to get the most reviving foot massage ever.

................................................................................................

"FOOTSTEPS OF TIME

"I snap up my umbrella and slip down through misty drizzle to the restaurant, bright and bustling with hearty breakfasts for all. The waiter urges us to eat more, the climb ahead is strenuous and long, he warns. Picking up our packed lunch and water, we pass the shops that line the narrow lanes with everything you could possibly need, from warm hats, cheap ponchos, socks and shoes, to hot samosas and cold jelabis. ... "

"I breathe deep of the already thinning air, I need every ounce of air on the steep ascent to the Valley of Flowers. I’m prepared for altitude sickness and exhaustion and brain freeze. I’ve taken my daily Diamox, better a little toe tingling, than Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) or worse, HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema).1"

................................................................................................

"CHOOSING DANGEROUS PATHS

"I cross the bridge over a melting glacier, where the Laxman Ganga sparkles ... out of its arched cavern. Above, it thunders down from the mountainside in three levels of waterfalls, from gorge walls so high that you can barely see the top however far back you crane your neck. To the left is the rocky confluence where the Pushpavati meets the Laxman Ganga and continues down to join the Alaknanda as the Bhyundar Ganga.

"The boulder strewn bed gleams with silver streams, and away from the torrent, tiny birds flit from rock to rock. It’s a gleaming rockscape of plunging gorges, glaciers and glittering raindrops. It seems impossible that somewhere higher than all this could even exist.

"In Indian mythology, the Pandavas named the Pushpavati river so when they saw the myriad Pushpa or flowers floating downstream as they toiled their way up the mountains in search of redemption. Maybe, at other times of the year, the Pushpavati is a calmer stream, but not in the monsoon. Is this even the same river? Who knows, myth and magic intermingle, and I give up puzzling over it.

................................................................................................

"The image of the Valley of Flowers as a peaceful bower is replaced by the reality of thunderous black gorges and steep paths. The rain buckets down and I pull up the hood of my unglamorous hooded poncho. Wet hands grip the poles as the path climbs to a steaming, tin–covered booth where I push through the clamour, to pay for my pass, a grubby little piece of paper, or chitti, for this shard of paradise.

"Chitti is an Indian word has entered the English language as “chit”, a piece of paper that is a record that you have paid for some privilege. It is just one of the thousands of Indian words that turned into bonafide English words thanks to the 200–year–old interaction between India and the East India Company.2

"The pass allows me entry for three consecutive days, but I must exit the valley by 5 pm every day, a narrow window to climb up and wander about looking for flowers. The raised booth is packed with porters and baskets, guides and trekkers, I grab my chit and escape down a narrow path with green and orange railings. The vegetation changes, and more conifers soar above the sub–tropical plants. Here is the first of the arum lilies, or cobra lilies, a rather threatening–looking plant that looks like a cobra ready to strike."

................................................................................................

"THE FAIRY GATE

"Further on, is a cave tucked into the side of the gorge, and painted on the rock are the words, “Blue Poppy”, alerting us to the only place where blue poppies grow. The cup–shaped blue flower, is not a real poppy, its shape and delicate crepe –like petals make it look like a poppy.3 Where does the rare sky–blue color come from? It comes from the pigment delphinidin that combines with the plant’s ability to grow in the acidic soils of Himalayan rock slopes. If you were to try to grow blue poppies at home in an alkaline soil, the color would be more violet than the clear sky–blue of Mecopnosis, the correct name.

"The black, plunging rock walls of an immense dark gorge surround us, overhead grey clouds shroud the sky from view and beneath our boots, pounds the rock–tumbling torrent of the Pushpavati, or Byundar river. ... "

"A recent rockslide has tossed craggy boulders across the path, contemptuous of the flimsy balusters. Guides and porters glance mountainwards, hustling us over the rockslide towards a rickety bridge dangling dangerously over the torrent. A graphic sign depicts the next two kilometers as a wiggly line. Heed the ill drawn sketch. Truth comes in strange disguises."

"Pre–2013, this path was a steady three kilometer walk to the valley of flowers at a gentle incline. Today it is a five kilometer hack up the sides of the gorge and over the headland. One kilometer of it is a vertiginous ascent to reach the ridge."

................................................................................................

"LONGING

"White–barked silver birches lean over the path, brushing the hiker’s heads, and on either side the flowers and plants crowd the path, shrinking it to a bare thread of cobbles. Climbing higher, light trickles through the thinning conifers and an entire side of the valley flushes pink with waving banks of Himalayan balsam.

"The path opens up as the top of the ridge appears, and the stony track transforms to the gently sloping path promised by other guidebooks. The rain continues, no valley vistas yet. We stop for a rest in a cave with a dry sandy floor, tucked into a craggy outcrop. I lean against the cold rocky wall. I try not to sit down at all while walking, as it becomes harder to start again, the walking rhythm broken.

"Ahead around any of these curves is the Valley of Flowers."

................................................................................................

"Up a series of stepped landings and around a curve, the first sparkling glacier stream twinkles out in joyful greeting. The glacier has retreated, and the ice–blue brook flows out from underneath the frozen arches to babble over the rocks and moss. We creak across the rough–hewn bridge and I sink down to the stream cupping the icy water in my hand to sip and then splash on my face. Holy water! Closing my eyes, I breathe in the scent of ice and blooms, and listen to the “Ommm” of humming bees."

"Above me lush green meadows soften the harsh edges of the peaks, and the entire valley lies ahead. The sun comes out on a verdant flower–speckled space ringed by snowy peaks that look close enough to touch. ... "

................................................................................................

"IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF FATE

"Pushing onwards or skywards might be more appropriate, the grim gorges and rough rockslides are replaced by meadows lush with a green never seen on the plains, and embankments of flowers, through it all the sound of running water."

"In a classic real–life twist of six degrees of separation, only two degrees separate Frank Smythe from myself. In a spot of research, I find that he contracted malaria in Darjeeling, and later died of it. And he was in Darjeeling to plan another expedition with Tenzing Norgay, and as every one who lived in Darjeeling knows, you would always bump into Mr. Tenzing Norgay, either at a school or college talk, in the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, or on the Mall or Chaurasta in “Darj”."

Does the author expect everyone to know why that makes her connection with Smythe?

................................................................................................

"The rain lifts and in the brilliant mountain sunshine, the raindrops sparkle on the flowers. Tiny drops of flower rain shower us as we forge through lush paths strewn with fresh–fallen blossoms. Every week different varieties of flowers burst out in an urgent rush from seed to bloom to seed. In early August it is the pink of Himalayan balsam that predominates, interspersed with towering banks of milk parsley, waving their lacy spheres across meadows and up rocky crags. Mixed in with pink spires of Himalayan knotweed and balsam are the perfect purple blooms of geranium wallichinum.

"We push on in the thin air and jump the streams to where the meadows and tiny valleys seem to wander up and get lost in the sky. Remnants of glaciers glitter in the sun, pearly white from a distance, they hang like jeweled necklaces on the up–rushing black crags. ... "

................................................................................................

"We hustle along, no time to eat here, as time in the Valley is precious. We arrived here at noon, (the gate only opens at 7 a.m.), and we must be out before 5:00 p.m. or earlier if the clouds close in. Our guide hustles us to leave by 2:00 p.m. Don't be deceived by the thought that walking downhill will be quicker. It is not. The steep slope and frequent mists mean that you must watch every step. And there is no phone coverage in the valley, so if you get in trouble, you may be alone.

"Today this is not a problem, there are plenty of people wandering about, and as we leave, we meet walkers sauntering in. I wonder how much they will see, as you need at least two hours inside the valley, past the boulder gate."

................................................................................................

"AN ADVENTUROUS WOMAN

"We arrive at the grave of Joan Margaret Legge, botanist, adventurer, aristocrat. She trekked here alone, to document the plants of the valley. Unfortunately, she lived too dangerously and within a week of setting up camp, slipped and fell to her death.

"Her grave lies by the stream in sight of the mountains. A bit of research reveals that she was Lady Joan Margaret, the daughter of an Earl, hence able to travel and adventure on her own. A brave woman, to trek here alone at 54. If there was an adventurer who gave her all, here she is where she lies at rest in the heart of the Himalayas."

................................................................................................

"RIVER BEAUTY ON THE BANKS OF THE PUSHPAVATI

"We follow the paths leading over the moraine and birch forest to the riverbed of the Pushpavati, this is about 3 kilometers from the Baman Daur. All along the banks are clusters of pink River beauty, blue kashmirayana and creeping snowberry, with its bright blue berries that taste and smell like the old faithful, Vicks Vaporub.

"We must have walked about seven of the ten kilometers length, only looking up to the end where it passes the foot of Rataban, beyond which is the Byundar pass. This area is unique because it is the transition zone between the Greater Himalaya and the Zanskar ranges, beyond are the dry hills of Tibet, truly at the edge of the roof of the world.

"To see more of it, we use two of the three–day passes to the fullest, and hike in every day, trying to walk as far as possible into the valley even to the very end.

................................................................................................

"On the second day, a local guide from the Valley of Flowers interpretation center in Ghangaria joined our party. Thanks to her we could walk to the bed of the Pushpavati and beyond, crossing bubbling brooks and past sparkling fields of edelweiss, pink river beauty and clusters of blue Kashmir corydalis.

"By walking further, we saw different views and vegetations, more streams, melting glaciers and past lush meadows full of fine grass interspersed with banks of yellow sunflower like showy inula, and stands of Cortia wallichaina or Himalayan silge.

"The second day that we visited, the valley was nearly empty of people, and as we went deeper in the valley, it was as if we were alone in the world of enchantment."

................................................................................................

"COMING DOWN

"Every afternoon we descended, taking infinite care on the two–hour trail down. The descent to the gorge and the metal bridge at Dwari Pairi gorge is steep, slippery and twisting. In the twilight missteps are easy, and a mistake can cost you a broken limb, or even death. As we tread out of the valley, the rain tumbles down and we seek shelter in the cave near the valley entrance above the tree line. It’s crowded with others, and we remember to pull out our packed lunches. I pack the wrappings to take down the mountain with us.

"Monsoonal rain rolls in, the clouds swirl up from the steamy plains and as they reach the soaring barrier of the Himalayas; they drop their load of moisture and continue over the dry plains of Tibet. The kiss of rain and the intermittent winds blow us downwards."

................................................................................................

"We climb back to the valley that opens up again before us with Ghangaria steaming gently in the distance. The National Park booth is clamorous with exiting hikers and porters, and we join in shouting out our names and are marked out and waved through. The park closes at 5 pm, and the rangers wait to tick us off the list as we exit.

"Back in Ghangaria, we kick off boots and hang the rain gear out to dry. Masala tea, hot pakoras and jelabis sustain us until dinner time. I sit on the verandah, and close my eyes, the sights of the Valley still float before my closed eyes. It is only 6:00 p.m., and it is already dusk. I contemplate going straight to bed, but a long dinner with conversation with friends in the quiet restaurant is a satisfying end to busy days."

................................................................................................

"Jo Bole so Nihal and Sat Sri Akaal is the cry and response that we hear all the winding way up to Hemkund Sahib, the star–shaped Sikh temple that looks like a Swiss chalet nestling beneath soaring peaks and reflected in the crystal clear waters of the tarn. Some say it’s the shape of an inverted lotus. The five entrances are to allow pilgrims to enter from every direction."

" ... Guru Gobind, his father and four sons were all brutally executed, or fell in battle for refusing to convert to Islam, in the 16th century."

................................................................................................

"All along the narrow stone path, pilgrims mount up uncertainly on fidgety mules, clutching the pommels of the saddles with a death grip. The 6–kilometer 6–hour path up to the lake slashes switchback after switchback all the way up the steep valley of the Laxman Ganga, and while it is paved all the way, at many spots the fragile–looking railings have collapsed, and the stone flags wobble and slip underfoot enough for me to trip and fall. ... "

"I am lost in a crowd that sweeps around the corner. Grandmothers helped up by grandsons, tiny drooly babies clasped tenderly by their tough pink–turbaned Dads, beautiful women with perfect makeup and exquisitely coiled hair, toil up the steep and slippery stony path with shouts of Sat Sri Akal ... "

"Pilgrims converge from all over India, and the world – including Afghanistan – a reminder that the Sikhs once ruled from Afghanistan to Lahore and beyond reclaiming all the land (and the Kohinoor) taken by Nadir Shah in his rapacious conquest of Mughal treasure.

"The gurudwara nestles beside another kind of gem, an icy lake near the top of the Himalayas."

................................................................................................

"THE BRAHMAKAMAL

"As we round another cliff, there are the unmistakable clumps of the pride of Garhwal, the Brahmakamal, a huge lotus that blooms once every 12 years at these altitudes of rarefied air, waiting for the perfect conjunction of well–drained rock, a patch of soil and just enough sun to unfold its huge petals to the radiant rays of a Himalayan summer sun.

"The Brahmakamal is so precious and endangered that the villagers of Pulna, pluck only one flower a year, for their festival. No one else is allowed to take these delicate blooms of a pale goldy–green in a perfect whorl of softness nestling in a cape of dark green leaves. The closed buds are about to bloom, and in the shelter of the dripping rocks glow almost phosphorescent against the dark rocks of steep slopes.

"Beyond, resolute clumps of bushes cling to the cliffs, with yellow flowers at the tips, rare Himalayan ginseng or rhodiola. The ginseng increases circulation and uptake of oxygen, exactly what you need in these climbs, where less oxygen can thicken the blood.

................................................................................................

" ... destination is mirrored in the emerald waters of the lake. The lake reflects the green slopes, rocks and the clouds, and only a splatter of raindrops interrupts the perfect image in the water. A circular group of peaks crowd around the lake, and down from them creep thin threads of glaciers."

"There was no way to do a parikrama round the lake. Stern warnings prohibit this is in multiple languages, so we line up at gurudwara, place our shoes carefully in a row of lockers and enter the temple barefoot and with our heads covered."

"Outside, the gentle persistent patter of rain forms a chorus with the sighing of quiet winds. I know that this can change in a moment, as afternoon approaches, the warm air rising from the plains far below collides with the cold air of the high Himalayas, causing, the monsoon.

"After a six kilometer walk and a climb of over 1000 meters – we need food. We join the queue to the guru ka langar for just a few minutes. Unlike other langars, there is no sitting on the floor here, but on benches that line the langar. After a simple meal of delicious khichdi (rice and dal) washed down with hot sweet tea, it’s time to go, as no one can stay beyond 2 p.m."

................................................................................................

"THE GHANGARIA GURUDWARA

"Outside the gurudwara, the street dhabas tempt me with fresh fried samosas, hot crispy saffron jelabis and vast vats of creamy rabri simmering in the stuttering light of a solar lamp. I breathe it in deeply, despite the slight oily overtones, it was good to be alive."

................................................................................................

"The trek had been harder, longer and higher than I expected. Assumptions had fallen by the wayside, especially the phantom of fitness. Fitness is two edged – mental and physical and one impacts the other – the obvious shortfall of physical fitness for a high–altitude climb had impacted my emotional fitness – so a day idly wandering around Ghangaria was just right.

"From Ghangaria the steep black–sided gorges part to reveal a snow speckled Kamet with necklaces of glaciers. A far thatch of emerald green is the upper Valley of Flowers. But the heights are not for me today, a walk in a gentle valley by Ghangaria reveals a hidden treasure of woods, flowers and a bubbling brook, crossed by wobbly stepping stones."

................................................................................................

"MEETING AGAIN

................................................................................................

"The grannies urge me to come again next year, and not “waste money” on hotels and restaurants.

"Stay in the Gurudwara, they say, private rooms with attached bathroom and “geysers” aka small hot water boilers.

"Despite the lack of mountain views, it is airy and clean, and uncrowded, at least now, as most of the pilgrims are trudging up to Hemkund Sahib.

................................................................................................

"My breathless friend from the day before comes rushing over to hug me and introduce me to more of her family and friends, rattling on rapidly in pure Punjabi. All the women are in full make–up. My face feels naked with only moisturizer and lip balm. Full marks to them for hiking in makeup from foundation to eyeshadow and lipstick, though with their dark flashing eyes and clear skin flushed a faint pink, they needed no enhancements.

"I nod and smile. Sat Sri Akaal is 80% of my Punjabi. The other 20% is swear words probably not suitable for these sacred precincts. With a final hug and wave, she sets off back down to Gobind Ghat and her own tortured reality. I say a little prayer that she will be re–united with her children."

Any chance the percentage is diametrically reversed?

................................................................................................

"BERRY TASTING IN THE MEADOW

"The rusty rails of the metal bridge over the Laxman Ganga are still damp with the dew and I’m loath to trust them. Nothing can resist the icy hand of winter here, and the many fallen over railings on the paths above are a warning not to lean too heavily on these railings. The triple waterfall pounds down to the creek, and the glacier has melted to a rock and pebble encrusted snow cave. Ice melt ripples out in multiple shining rivulets to join the stream, butterflies and tiny birds flit from rock to rock, flying specks of feather and sound."

" ... This is the unheralded confluence of the Pushpavati and Laxman Ganga, where the mountain source streams become the Bhyundar Ganga that tumbles downhill to join the Vishnu Ganga ... "

So far, OK. But then -

" ... a tributary of the Alaknanda, that eventually becomes the Ganga."

Author is presuming wrong.

But the difference, the separation of the three tributaries is only limited to the common view of pilgrims who never go beyond Gaumukha, Kedarnath or Badrinath.

But it joins Ganga only at Prayag, still underground. So Saraswati counts as a separate river with its own persona and importance, just as Yamuna does.

................................................................................................

"Post monsoon with less rain and lower temperatures, the river may run quiet, slipping between the boulders or gliding over the rocks. But now there are plenty of miniature waterfalls to splash in, and as the fine rain clears, a rainbow glitters over the valley and there is no one there to view it except us. Relaxing in the meadow, we talk of many things ... "

................................................................................................

"Dusting off golden flecks of pollen, we pick up our backpacks and head downstream to emerge at the far end of Ghangaria, where the lower meadows host an encampment of tents rivalling a Mughal army on the move. Row upon row of "Swiss" tents masquerade as luxury destinations for tourists, overlooking the helipad. By day there would be no mountain quiet here with the continuous buzz of the helicopters.

"We stroll down to the helipad, labelled as the “Hallypad”, as a tiny chopper buzzes down the valley and lands in a noisy whir of blades, the passengers scramble out, their baggage flung out and dragged away, and in a moment outgoing passengers dash out to clamber in clutching their bags. Total turn around – less than 7 minutes. A single controller with a scarf round his head and a handheld radio guides the chopper in and out, and in a nearby tent, passengers wait to show identification, pay their money and enter their names on the manifest."

................................................................................................

"The pounding of a helicopter punctuates the Himalayan air and we turn around to pelt down to the helipad, just in time to see the helicopter land and then take off again. Like a mechanical dragonfly, it flits between the walls of the valley, just above the tree line, along the twisting course of the river, and vanishes as it’s sprayed by nameless waterfalls."

................................................................................................

Again, author chooses to insult women only for no longer being sixteen! Should women be all killed before eighteen, according to the author?

Or is it being an aunt that's disgusting? Should siblings of every female be rendered infertile, or killed at birth, according to the author?

................................................................................................

"Walking on down, poles clicking and moving between sunshine and shade, the sorrow of leaving lifts with each step; not only by the joy of tumbling waterfalls and still blooming flowers, but with movement. We are built to move, not sit around and mope. People walking up glance at me with envy, the initial bounce has been pounded out of them by the relentless climb. The downhill walk is still fraught with potential for trips, falls and encounters with blundering bovines ... "

"The path unravels through the resin scented pines, and before you know it, I hear the roar of the confluence down at the Bhyundar village ... "

"I lean over the railing of the concrete bridge and say a silent goodbye to the torrent. As the path continues downhill, the river drops away suddenly. The vegetation changes in slow motion, 11 kilometers of downhill over cobbled stones is a long way. Why are Roman roads lauded for swift movement of those Roman legionaries marching in their sandals. In hiking boots I’m not fast, and even downhill I get breathless."

................................................................................................

" ... At the ten–kilometer mark, a despairing question, is it all uphill like this? Yes, all the way and steeper, take a mule, you haven't even begun the real climb.

"No, I didn't tell her that.

"But maybe I should have, do I destroy her dreams? Or let her learn the lesson in humility that I learnt? The Himalayas are great for learning by doing, by slipping, by falling and if you still don't get it, by thinning off the air so you have you have to gasp for every shred of oxygen.

................................................................................................

"The sun burns hotter and we are down at the floor of the Bhyundar valley, almost there. A cheer goes up as I around the corner, I’m the last of our group. We pose for photos, and then, it’s nearly over. But we still have to collect our helicopter borne Vibha from Gobind Ghat.

"At Pulna, I crush into the front seat of a shared taxi, the promise of carsickness enough to ensure me a front seat as we rattle and unspool down the last four kms to Gobind Ghat. The number of people and existence of cars and trucks astonishes, a rude awakening back to “civilization”. With a series of pings, our phones come to life again, like sleeping creatures squeaking awake, prodded by an invisible harpoon."

................................................................................................

"WHAT THE RAIN DECIDES

"The rain sets in, and we press onwards to Badrinath, rolling up the windows and the windscreen wipers swishing ever faster. Traffic crawls but we continue—until the road is covered with a landslide of truck–sized boulders and slippery slush. Happy makes a captain’s call and swings the car around, there will be no Badrinath today.

"Instead, we head back to Auli for a late lunch, with a stop at thunderous Vishnuprayag. I descend steep stairs down to the temple where the Vishnu Ganga and the Dhauliganga converge with a thunderous roar to form the Alaknanda, one of the two source streams of the Ganges. ... "

Again the author is incorrect.

Alaknanda is the third major tributary of Ganga, all the way from beyond Mana, above Badrinath, down to Devprayag.

At Vishnuprayag, in fact, Dhauliganga meets Alaknanda, former streaming from Dhaulagiri, latter from beyond Mana via Badrinath.

If there is a Vishnuganga, Wikipedia ought to have information regarding it, but neither Google maps nor Wikipedia seem to do so.

It seems a tad unlikely that this author is - this casually - providing information where both Google maps and Wikipedia fall short.

................................................................................................

" ... In a deep gorge slashed into the mountains, I feel as if the entire gorge shivers with the power of Shiva letting down his hair to allow the Ganges to descend safely to earth from her home, the Milky Way in the heavens. Looking up, the sky is a narrow slot between the walls of the dark gorges. The spray mists my face with a gentle caress.

Kalpnath seems another spot not known to either Wikipedia or Google maps, but there is a Kalpeshwar by another tributary, unidentified by Google maps,

that meets Alaknanda along further down river from Vishnuprayag.

................................................................................................

"The temple priests here have been South Indian Brahmins for many generations. I wonder what happened to the local priests over the centuries. ... "

................................................................................................

Since when does Nirvana qualify as "austere intellectualism", or even logic? Or is it because Buddhism does not postulate a God at all, only Nirvana, seemingly zero, hence acceptable to Abrahmic-IV?

................................................................................................

"ONE LAST EVENING

"We arrive, and again, those steep broken steps, but we have one last evening and night of breathtaking views from Nandadevi to Kamet, and Neelkanth and Mana. So far we haven’t had an unimpeded view of Nanda Devi, the giver of peace and contentment. Local legend says that the clouds are from the kitchen of the goddess. The devi has been cooking up a storm these last few days then.

"After the mandatory climb up the steep and broken stairs we find the retired botanists strolling downhill – their guide had taken them up to the cable car start, and walked them down from there. Maybe our guide doesn’t like us much – who knows? At the end of our tour, the indifferent hotel staff at Auli ignore us. And we them.

"We make ourselves teabag tea in the rooms, and bring out our cups to lounge on the plastic chairs on the verandahs drinking in the magnificence of mountains."

................................................................................................

"MORNING BENEDICTION

................................................................................................

"HOLY HARIDWAR

"It is a grey grimy dusk until the temples light up, the many hues floating above the darkened ghats, and the precinct transforms into a magic fairyland of gleaming domes beside the swift flowing waters of the Ganges.

"We remove our shoes and tip toe silently down the steps into the chill of the water to receive a last blessing from the holy river. It is done."

................................................................................................

CONTENTS

................................................................................................

Foreword

Part I

1. Mountain Blooms

2. Preparing for the trek

3. Planning for the trek

Part II

4. Deep South to Far North

5. Following the Ganges

6. The Color of Water

7. I Lift my Eyes to the Mountain

8. Eye to Eye with Giants

Part III

9. Boots on the Ground

10. The Path to Ghangaria

11. Fragrance and Fire

12. Excelsis

13. Death in the Meadow

14. Pilgrims Progress

15. Saunterings

16. The Return

17. The Goddess Revealed

Part IV

Appendix A

Appendix B

Appendix C

Appendix D

Part V

Appendix E

Appendix F

Appendix G

Appendix H

Appendix I

Part VI

Chasing Himalayan Dreams

The Camino Ingles

Thank you!

About the Author

Dedication

The Street Team

Notes

................................................................................................

REVIEW

................................................................................................

FOREWORD

................................................................................................

"In 1931, a party of British mountaineers staggered out of a blinding snowstorm into a sheltered Himalayan valley, blanketed by thousands of flowers and surrounded by a ring of soaring peaks.

"This was the Bhyundar Valley, henceforth known as the Valley of Flowers.

"Frank Smythe’s book, “The Valley of Flowers, An Adventure in the Upper Himalaya”, an exquisite ode to this secret corner of the mountains has been the only book about this hidden gem.

"Hidden no more though, as you can get there by helicopter in a single day. But you still must walk the last 5 kms. Unlike the pre – 2013 routes where you meandered up a sloping valley to reach the vale, a steep ascent awaits the unprepared trekker today."

" ... high Himalayas, where the valley nestles high among the glacier–encrusted, cloud kissed peaks."

................................................................................................

................................................

August 31, 2022 -

October 11, 2022 - October 11, 2022.

................................................

................................................................................................

Part I

................................................................................................

1. Mountain Blooms

................................................................................................

It might, rather, have been the very valley instead where Urvashie and Pururava lived for a year, and one where Apsara flocked descending from heaven to frolic.

................................................................................................

"A MAGIC LOCATION

................................................................................................

"CAN I DO THE TREK?

"In all instances, check with your doctor before you go. You must climb three steep kilometres at an altitude of 3000m to access the Valley from Ghangaria. You can reach Ghangaria by mule, but using porters to reach the Valley itself is no longer recommended, due to social distancing norms. You can also take a helicopter from Gobind Ghat to Ghangaria, depending on the weather.

"After three kilometers on a steep and winding road, the road ends at Pulna village in a melee of organized dung–scented chaos.

"From Pulna you must trek, or take a pony, or a porter to Ghangaria. From Pulna village an 11–kilometer trek gets you to the base camp at Ghangaria. Given the rigorous ascent, despite a few down slopes, it will take from 4–6 hours. Be prepared for rain, slippery surfaces and watch for the ethereal waterfalls, and burgeoning flowers on the way. Also watch out for begging sweepers and mule droppings.

"The valley itself, is a steep 3–4 kilometers (1.8 miles) from Ghangaria. Although it does not sound too far, plan to stop at Ghangaria and proceed to the valley the next morning.

"After the floods of 2013 destroyed the original route, the new path has taken a steeper route. When you arrive gasping at the top of the climb, you must walk for a further 3–5 kilometers at the minimum to experience the full wonder of the Valley of the flowers."

................................................................................................

"A SEASONAL FEAST OF FLOWERS

"Snow and ice cover the Bhyundar valley or Valley of Flowers from October to May. This includes access to bustling Ghangaria which turns into a ghost town from October to May.

"The season typically starts on June 1st, but the exact date varies.

"You can trek from early June until the beginning of October, check exact dates, as it depends on the ice melt. The best time to visit is from mid July to mid August, when the flowers are in full bloom. This is also the wettest part of the year, so add time for road closures.

"Day temperatures of 15 to 20 degrees C, falling to 8 to 10 degrees C by night, make for a cool trek. Layer clothing as it can get warm when trekking.

................................................................................................

"Flowers include the majestic and protected Brahma Kamal, lilies, anemones, primula, and blue poppies. The blooms come in all colors and sizes and change from month to month in subtle waves of color.

"Anemone, Geranium, Marsh Marigold, Primula, Potentilla, Aster, Lilium, Himalayan Blue Poppy, Aconite, Delphinium, Ranunculus, Corydalis, Inula, Saussurea, Campanula, Pedicularis, Morina, Impatiens, Bistorta, Ligularia, Anaphalis, Saxifraga, Lobelia, Thermopsis, Trollius, Aquilegia, Codonopsis, Dactylorhiza, Cypripedium, Strawberries and Rhododendrons, Anaphalises and Potentillas, the unfamiliar names hide the sheer beauty of the flowers. These are not the names of dinosaurs, but flowers.

................................................................................................

"In May when the ice retreats, sweet scented primulas cover the rocky terraces in blue and snow–white anemones light up the valley floor.

"From late July to the end of August, Pedicularis, Potentilla, Ligularia and many other yellow varieties appear."

................................................................................................

................................................

October 11, 2022 - October 12, 2022.

................................................

................................................................................................

2. Preparing for the trek

HIGH ALTITUDE

................................................................................................

"You do not need to go with a tour company, but do book accommodation and transportation in advance. ... "

"If you have health issues, check with your doctor before you start either the training or the trek.

"There are a couple of landlines available from shops in Ghangaria, as Rs 10 per minute. A post paid BSNL mobile may work, however as a tourist, you will not have this."

Author gives alternative itineraries, varying from reasonable minimum four days to seven.

Wonder why he doesnt recommend staying for the season.

................................................................................................

"IT STARTS WITH WHY

"When you decide to trek the Valley of Flowers, the first step is in your mind. Identify why you are doing the trek.

"Is it to see the flowers?

................................................................................................

"If prefer a quieter trek, avoid June. This is India, you may find it crowded, or you may be surprised at the emptiness.

................................................................................................

"GET FIT TO WALK