Wanderlust Heaven!

Next day we hiked to Lahesh Cave, a natural hole in the side of the mountains. Fairly short day – only 5-6 km – but the approach to the cave is challenging as it involves picking your way through a meadow strewn with huge rocks. The meadow at first is not that steep, but later on it gets steeper, and the last 1-2 km to the cave is really a scramble up a rocky slope – not much grass nor flat surfaces. When we reached the cave I was beat – and my feet were sore. Took off my shoes and let my dogs bark for a couple hours while Suresh and Satish gathered water, made tea, and cooked dinner. I read V.S. Naipual’s book ‘India: A Million Mutinies Now’ and starting psyching myself up for the next day, when we’d climb to the summit and then walk back to Triund – probably 18 km of walking in all, with the summit climb being quite challenging as I remembered it. Here’s a quick look at Lahesh:

Talked with the guys in the cave while we ate. Dinner consisted of white rice, a few chapatis (flat unleavened bread), dhal (lentils), and tea. Decent, filling stuff – but I was already daydreaming about meat and beer. Found out from Suresh that Mr. Saini, the head of the Regional Mountaineering Center (I mentioned him in my previous posting), is the father of the fellow from Himalayan Heights, the trekking agency I was now using. That was a revelation – as you may recall from last week’s entry, I was surprised that Mr. Saini, a presumably impartial government employee, steered me away from two well-known agencies and towards a new one. Which, I now knew, was his son’s agency – and Mr. Saini undoubtedly had a financial interest in Himalayan Heights. I was later to see Mr. Saini lounging in a TV room with his wife at Himalayan Heights’s guesthouse, called the Ekant Lodge, where I stayed post-trek for two nights. He didn’t seem to have any problem broadcasting his presence there – no conflict of interest concerns. I wasn’t that surprised to hear of the connection, in retrospect – India is full of these background webs and links and that’s part of the way the society gets by. And to be honest, Mr. Saini turned out to be a good guy – he had always given me (and Jan) good advice, this time as well, and he and his family looked after me well at the Ekant Lodge.

That night, while tossing and turning, felt very cold and noticed that the zipper on my sleeping bag had come off the track – causing the bag to come open at the side. I cursed the agency, and the cold, and briefly tried to fix the zipper. Most of you know about the generally weak repair skills of the Jewish people – and I am a good representative. But I was saved…Satish got up to go take a piss outside the cave, and when he came back in I got him to come over. He was able to coax the zipper back on track, and then I closed the bag up. That was a huge help…but while he was fussing with the zipper I had some (homophobic?) concerns about us being so close to each other…and I silently prayed that Brokeback Mountain didn’t enjoy wide popularity in India!

Next morning, we set out at 6 a.m. to climb to the pass. Satish estimated it would take 3 hours – but the rocks were dry, we had energy, and we got there in a bit over two. Satish was surprised – he said that I was a ‘very strong trekker.’ Of course, he was in the front and was a much stronger trekker – but I didn’t hold him back much and together we made good progress. So we got to the summit (I hate the verb ‘summitted,’ by the way – too cocky) around 8 or so. It came on fast – I suppose I was looking at the peaks to either side of the pass, and thinking we were heading there. The pass is well below the peaks, as passes generally are – so when we got to the top it felt sudden, but rewarding nonetheless. Spent 45 minutes up there, taking photos (see below) and resting. There’s a plaque dedicated to two climbers from Rajasthan who died in an avalanche thereabouts. Sobering to see it.

Did a lot of thinking and reminiscing while at the top. The last time I was there, in ’92 with Jan, I was a 25-year-old business school student spending the summer interning in Bombay. I had no firm job in hand, very little money, and my India job didn’t clearly link to any high-paying jobs. So that much was in flux – yet I was a happy guy. My family was well (my mother was alive then), my sister was in graduate school, I had made some great friends in the first year of b-school, etc. Long time ago…Clinton had only been President for a few months, and I’d seen a year or so prior a victory parade for the first Gulf War down Constitution Avenue in Washington. Back then I had hated old Bush…but now I’d be very happy to take him back.

I thought about my mother while at the pass. So much had happened in the time since my last visit, including her illness and passing. I was able to remember the fun times we had as a family back before then – all of her random names for our dog, the children’s books and articles she wrote, her colorful clothes, our family holidays – and I thought she’d be happy at how things had turned out for us. Bonnie and I were doing well in life, and Dad had remarried and was happy. The first few years after losing her were very difficult – I suppose she knew they would be – but we got by and had well and truly turned the corner. I smiled as I had those thoughts and felt close to her, somehow, all the way up there in the high mountain passes, way up there above the clouds…

We walked back to Lahesh cave after that. The downhill walking was not easy – my ankles and knees were shot after a couple hours, and for days afterward I arranged my activities to minimize downhill walking.

Adhered to a few general principles as we walked downhill. Watched out for unsteady rocks, and if I had to step on one, I did so in the middle to minimize the rocking back and forth. Always tried to have a fixed point – didn’t have both legs in motion/in the air simultaneously. Didn’t extend the leg in motion that far, and tried to use my hands as much as possible. Basic stuff, really – nothing that requires deep contemplation, but you do need to get into a pattern or you find yourself struggling. Of course, the guides just plowed ahead and never ever stumbled, whereas I’d do so once in a while. But managed to stay on my feet and not fall during the entire four days…

I noticed the converse nature of the elements at certain points. For instance, it’s hell trekking in the hot sun – but in those parts shielded by clouds and trees, the rocks tend to be wet and slippery. So you’re never really sure what you want…the best situation is to have alternating situations and just adapt to them.

Also was well aware of the cow and sheep shit all over the place. It was more difficult to deal with in ’92, when it was rainy – then the shit would spread all over the rocks and make them even more slippery. Now, much less of a problem – and the thing is that sheep and cow shit doesn’t reek that badly. All they eat is grass, and their ‘output’ is pretty natural and uncontaminated. Unlike, say, human shit or dog shit. I imagine that animals don’t get constipated – their diet and lifestyle is the same day to say. Anyway, it wasn’t that hard to trek in and amongst piles and pellets of animal crap.

Got back to Triund late that afternoon. Was very tired…pitched the tent and tried to take a nap. Used my fleece jacket as a pillow – warm and comfortable. But Triund was loud and busy that day – a party of 40 or so trekkers was moving through, and thankfully left after a couple hours. Another party of 15-20 volunteers pitched tents and stayed the night – I’d never seen so many people at Triund and silently rued the loss of peace and quiet at this special spot.

Compared this trek to our ’92 trek, and found that this was much less demanding, on several fronts:

1 – Better weather. In 1992 we were fighting through both the monsoon rain and the August heat. This time, the only hassle was the cold weather at night. But I slept only sporadically during both treks, so that variable didn’t play a major differentiating factor.

2 – Improved fitness/stamina. I was probably in slightly better cardiac shape in ’92, given that I had been running in Bombay, training for the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington later that year. But I had been nailed with a few cases of Delhi belly that summer, and had lost too much weight – I didn’t feel that strong during the trek. This time, I was a bit more ponderous, but steadier, and I was able to climb the hills more easily. Satish told me I did very well on the tougher bits.

3 – Easier trek and load. We only went to the Indrahar Pass and back this time, whereas in ’92 we went on to Bharmaur – another 2+ days, which included an overly demanding two days in one (hence, the plunge into the cow trough). Also, I was carrying less weight this time…although it had been 14 years between treks, I remembered being weighed down in ’92 and was ruthless this time in keeping my load light.

I never felt overwhelmed during this trek. In ’92, there were some hairy times…lack of water, carrying a heavy load up steep slopes, etc. Some real lessons learned…

Made it back to McLeod Ganj the next afternoon. Checked into the Ekant Lodge, emptied out my rented pack, and took a nice long hot shower. Walked over to McLo’s and ordered a huge meal – chicken spring rolls, club sandwich, ice creams, and of course a couple large Kingfisher’s. The first bite of meat and the first sip of beer were extraordinarily rejuvenating. Not sure what that portends for my future…but it was wonderful in the moment.

Went to a small ‘movie room’ that night to watch The Big Lebowski. McLeod Ganj has a couple places with a big TV and DVD player, and for 30 rupees (under a buck) you can go see movies there, they run them throughout the day and night. It’s an ingenious system and a very civilized way to go see a movie. And The Big Lebowski was pretty good – liked the storyline and random mayhem throughout.

Next morning walked down the hill to the local Buddhist monastery. Recalled that when Jan and I visited there in ’92, I had a severe case of the shits en route and had to relieve myself next to a little stream…and as I had no toilet paper with me, I used my hand and the river water for cleaning. That was the only time I had to resort to the ‘local system’ and it was a funny memory. This time, nothing of the sort happened, and I enjoyed strolling around the monastery.

Walked back up the hill and wandered over to the major Tibetan religious-political-social complex, Tsuglagkhang. The Dalai Lama lives in part of this area. He was away at this point…I had written a letter and posted it from Bangkok a few weeks earlier, probably too late though – he sometimes sees foreign guests if they write to him early enough and he’s in town when they visit. He also has public audiences from time to time. Not easy to line up schedules, so I wasn’t that disappointed not to see him. If we were to meet, I’d probably tell him a couple Jewish jokes and ask him for some Tibetan ones – apparently he has a great sense of humor, and we all know he’s got a great smile.

The complex has some large and interesting statues inside…and plenty of offerings to the Buddha. Noticed that one of the offerings was a box of Oreo cookies. Apparently the Buddha has a sweet tooth…or prefers things to be black and white…

Popped into the Lung Ta Japanese vegetarian restaurant for lunch. The Japanese art and signs brought back some good memories. And the set lunch of the day was spot on – several plates of food, rice, soup for under two bucks. Very unlike Japan! The food was tasty…and the next day sushi was the special. Briefly considered delaying my departure from Dharamsala just to have the sushi, but decided to move on to Shimla as planned.

The final thing I had to do here was to try to go see my old guide Raja, in Dharamkot village. As mentioned earlier, he’d become a big local businessman and was busy. I did find him at his trekking shop, though, and we had a good chat. He remembered me and our ’92 trek – we had a few challenges after finishing the trek in Bharmaur, like a rockslide that closed the road back to Dharamsala, necessitating a lengthy 2-3 side route through Chamba and the utterly heinous railhead city of Pathankot in the Punjab. Our night in Pathankot was hell on earth – we arrived at the bus station only to be besieged by scores of beggars waiting on the platform, we had to walk around the streets (full of burning trash and staring fellows) till we found a crappy hotel that overcharged us. The beds were dirty and probably full of bedbugs – every time I lay down I was overcome with itching and took a cold shower. Didn’t sleep one second that night, and the next day fled the place with glee and horror.

My trek this time was much less full of drama, being shorter and just to the pass and back. Anyway, Raja and I shared some memories and laughs. He’s put on a few pounds and lost a few hairs – sound familiar? Here’s a shot of the two of us, my friend Jan will certainly appreciate it:

I promised him that I’d return before long (certainly before another 14 years passes), and that I’d do a trek with him and his agency. I plan to follow through on that promise, perhaps even next year.

That night was my finale in Dharamsala. Again went out to McLo’s and had dinner/drinks. It was rainy – strange for the post-monsoon season – and the town felt even more relaxed and asleep than usual. As I sat down at a table I heard Tracy Chapman playing on the sound system – brought back some old memories of Tufts (where she and I were both students in the late 80’s) and Boston. After a few minutes a young woman sat down next to me and we started to chat. She’s from Tibet, and fled three years ago to Dharamsala. We talked for almost two hours. She taught me about Buddhism, I talked about my round the world trip. She was intrigued by the Goa bit – she’s never seen the ocean and desperately wants to. I invited her to come visit me in Goa later this year, and we’ll see what happens. I walked her back to her place, said goodnight, and then went back to Ekant for a few hours’ rest. I was taking a bus to Shimla, the Himachal Pradesh state capital, the next morning.

The ride was long – 8 hours – but uneventful. Noticed en route that Lays potato chips are found in virtually all outlets, and that some stores are actually painted up to resemble a bag of Lays. I wonder who the Indian distribution manager of Frito-Lay is…s/he did an amazing job.

Shimla is a lively, semi-large hillstation that the British used to head up to every summer when Delhi became unbearable. It’s now a very popular getwaway for Indians, and some tourists, at a few points during the year. This was one of them – it was honeymoon/Dussehra/Diwali season, October is a busy month in India – and Shimla was full of holidaying families.

Enjoyed my two days there. Saw a lot of monkeys – some of them are pretty large, and those at the local temples have been known to grab bags and run off. The official line is that they think there’s food in the bags…but I’ve seen renegade monkeys at Nepalese shrines before and I know they’ve been trained by people to rip off valuables. I saw a Japanese girl’s bag get taken by a monkey in Kathmandu, and she was crying her eyes out. I imagine that monkey ran down the hill, handed over the bag to his trainer, and got a treat from him…

Classic British colonial buildings in Shimla – gives the town a framework and nice atmosphere, feels a bit lost in time (as much of British Asia does). The impressive Christ Church looms over the town at the top of The Ridge…the Viceregal House just out of town is a massive Scottish baronial building where discussions were held on the partition of the subcontinent into India and Pakistan in the mid-late 40’s. Talk about momentous decisions…I took a short tour there and was impressed by the architecture, and the general British work on buildings, roads, infrastructure. Now the place is the Indian Institute for Advanced Studies – sort of a self-guided research house for post-PhD. folks.

Had lunch at a small hotel that featured river trout. Excellent lunch, much like the trout I had in Manali. I think that river trout is moving up on my list of favorite foods – it’s just very hard to find the stuff in most places.

After two days in Shimla, traveled onward to Delhi to see my old business school friend Hasmeeth and his family. Was taking a train most of the way, but had to catch an early a.m. bus first to the railhead in Kalka. The bus ride was 3+ hours on a local bus…not that clean, but certainly cheap. I guess I’m pretty cheap when it comes to these things – I could have taken a cab to Kalka for the rupee equivalent of US$20, but chose the crappy $2 bus instead. Sometimes I’m able to convince myself that I’m poor, as in the old days, and then I’m able to keep my budget low. Cleaned the seat with my handkerchief (you’ve gotta carry one of these with you at all times), sat down, and rode to Kalka. Then walked a bit and caught the train to Delhi.

The train ride was better, but still pretty cramped. Meant to write this entry on that ride, but people were coming and going, moving around the cabin, and I decided to wait until I got on firmer territory. Got re-acquainted with the general Indian tendency to take off shoes and socks on trains and buses and let their dogs bark. I’ll simply say that some dogs bark more loudly than others…

Got to Delhi, met Hasmeeth’s driver next to a Wimpy’s restaurant, and we drove to Hasmeeth’s office to meet up. When I got there, he was on the phone with our mutual buddy Jan, mentioned multiple times above. Jan and Hasmeeth are in business together in India, and were discussing the latest stuff. I talked to Jan for a bit, then Hasmeeth and I went to his residence to see his wife and adorable baby daughter Adia. Adia is extremely good-natured…and I can’t stress enough the importance of that quality. In an earlier posting I mentioned a few critical (in my opinion) attributes – including being witty. Well, after being on the road for all this time and observing people getting along, or not, I think that being good-natured is perhaps a foundation quality. I’ve seen quite a few couples squabbling over petty things in hotels and restaurants, and it’s not an attractive thing to have to watch. Reactions?

Went out for dinner at The Kebab Factory – very nice food, and they had an odd yet enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal on wine – so we bought a bottle of Chateauneuf de Pape, which I was surprised to find in stock. Hadn’t had a bottle of wine in weeks, and was pleased to get back on track with Chateauneuf de Pape – which is one of my brother-in-law’s favorites, if I remember correctly. Drank one bottle with dinner, and brought the other home, hopefully to be consumed right after posting this blog!

My final observation, in the midst of my short couple days in Delhi visiting Hasmeeth, is that the toilet in the bathroom I’m using has a very funny brand name. Many things in India used the prefix ‘Hind’ or ‘Hindu,’ as the Indian name for the country is Hindustan. Well, my toilet’s brand is ‘Hindware.’ I don’t think much more needs be said…

Final bit: I posted a short video on YouTube, please check it out (and excuse the amateur camerawork). The website is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfLi_H4CVO0. This video features a group of Tibetan schoolkids chanting songs and welcoming the Dalai Lama back to Dharamsala. I think you’ll enjoy it. See you next week, from the beautiful beach state of Goa…