“The ocean refuses no river..” – so many interpretations come to mind, a sentence deeper than it looks, and having many possibilities, just like the water bodies it talks about.
What’s your interpretation?
“The ocean refuses no river..” – so many interpretations come to mind, a sentence deeper than it looks, and having many possibilities, just like the water bodies it talks about.
What’s your interpretation?
Over the past few days, I’ve been on a trek, to the mountain ranges of my brain..
Through the forests of thoughts, tall summits towered high, vast plateaus stretched out and deep valleys sank down. Fissures, crevasses and gaps littered the route.
A place which could take lives or a place where one could be reborn
ચમકતી ધારા ની ચળકતી ધાર
ધીમે થી અંદર ઉત્રી જાય,
મારી સાથે એક બનીને
મને ઘમી જાય..
ક્યારેક શાંત સર્કી મારી બની જાય
પૂર બની ને વહી ને મારી જાય..
ક્યારેક હસ્તી નાચ્તી કૂદતી જાય
સાંપ ની જેમ ડસી જાય,
થીજી ને જામી જાય
પ્રકાશ માં ફરી જીવિત થાય..
એના અતૂટ અખૂટ ચક્ર મને કહે
મારામાં પલળી ને અસીમ વહે
ઘણાં પાણા, ઘણું પાણી
મારામાં રેહવાના, ઓગળવાના..
And below, a quick, basic and rough translation (Realized how difficult it is to translate even something that is your own work. I can imagine the effort needed, the struggle required, the depth one would have to go to to understand someone else’s work to translate, and finally the reward of having done it satisfactorily.
Title: Water and Rocks
The glistening edge of a glittering stream
slowly slides into me,
becomes one with me.
I feel good about it.
Sometimes, it slides past me silently, becoming mine,
Sometimes, it becomes a flood and kills me,
sometimes it playfully dances and jumps around,
while sometimes, serpentine, it bites me.
It freezes, and stays frozen,
In the light it becomes alive again
Its unbroken, unending cycles tell me
Come, get drenched in me and flow, flow limitless.
A lot of stones, a lot of water,
Will stay in me, and melt away.
After the long entry on the Har Ki Dun trek (https://gabbartrip.wordpress.com/2016/03/28/valley-of-god/), my thoughts were still in the mountains, and I was transported back to Berchtesgadener Land in Germany. We were lucky that we could visit the area twice and could spend some time hiking, seeing, experiencing the local culture and practices.
The first time we’d visited the area, we were on a longer trip which had a lot of places thrown in – reason being this was our first big vacation in Europe and we didn’t know if we would be there again the following year. As a result, there was lesser time per place, but nevertheless we loved the place so much that we returned six months later to South Germany and spent a full week there.
Here are some memories from both the trips:
Arriving in Munich in the morning, we had a few hours which we used to hop over to the Oktoberfest.
Just before the train pulled into Freilassing, there was an announcement saying that one of the staff was celebrating 30+ years of service with Deutsche Bahn and this was going to be his last day. I think he was from this part of Germany, which is why the staff seemed to have arranged a quick celebration for him at this station. There were friends, family and well-wishers cheering on and a lot of patting on the back, hugging and clapping. Such a nice gesture!
Heading on towards Berchtesgaden Hbf now, we saw glimpses of peaks from the train itself. Being our first year at such a northerly latitude, we were extra keen in checking out if autumn had yet graced us with its colours or not.
We reached in the late afternoon / evening, and called it a day at the campsite.
The following morning had started off cloudy, but the sun was rising somewhere behind the peaks and would soon clear matters.
We rushed to the stream nearby, the Königsseer Ache, which was flowing fast and steady. Beautiful companion to have..
We wanted to see the lakes and go on a hike, so grabbing a tiny bit of breakfast we started off. The lake was reflecting a bit too much light for our liking, especially after us having seen some photographs of how incredibly beautiful it could be – we were a bit disappointed and decided to come back later when the sun had moved in the sky.
We headed off, no particular place in mind, and saw a trail board pointing and leading to “Grünstein Klettersteig” and headed off. At that point, we didn’t really know that much German, and we thought it would be an easy trail. We were right, it was easy, but only because there was a trail all the way as an option. Klettersteig basically means a ‘Via Ferrata’ (Iron road) and we had neither the experience nor the equipment in that bit. Having said that, I’m really looking forward to climbing it that way now, sometime!
The ‘non-Klettersteig’ trail was level and broad, and easy, but where it lacked in making us really work out, it awarded beautiful views – dense forests, views of the lakes, trees in different shades, views of higher peaks across the valley and so on..
This was also one of our first hikes together, as in where both of us were not only hiking together physically, but we were much closer mentally and emotionally as well.
Along the way, we saw several elderly people hiking and found that very impressive. It was a recurring theme, how sport and fitness was such a lifestyle there, and how even the elderly are in such good physical condition! It also led to the sightings of a white mop of hair hurrying down the trail, catching the sunlight and reflecting it, a quick smile exchanged. Loved it!
Scenes from a memory..
As we came out of the thicker woods, we saw the Watzmann massif, and it looked daunting even from far off. We didn’t have the time on this trip to try and hike there, and in our next visit to this area, we couldn’t climb it since it was ‘nicht Schneefrei’ (not snow-free). However, it still left a mark and we still think about it a lot.
Here’s a popular and lovely imagination of the Watzmann family.
“”Watz” means rough, hard, stony and “Mann” means Man. An old legend explains the unusual formation of the Watzmann massif. Long, long ago, the area was ruled over by a cruel king called Watzmann, along with his queen and their seven children. The whole family was merciless and unfair, trampling down the crops on their wild hunting trips and taxing the people to starvation. Every Sunday the inhabitants prayed that they would be rid of these tyrannical rulers. One day, their prayers were heard at last. While in the hills on a hunting expedition, the entire family perished in a great storm and was turned to stone. And there they still sit today: the main peak is the king towering over the land, his queen sits to the left and the seven royal brats huddle between them.” – from ‘Your complete guide to Berchtesgaden” by David Harper.
By this time we were really hungry, having had a tiny breakfast and a light dinner the previous night. A Bavarian Weißwurst helped push us on.
The views were pretty, the trees seemed to be framing a landscape photograph!
Soon we were at the summit.
There was a board or two which shared details of the trail.
Back home, or rather back at the camping place, we saw the sun set on the peaks, a beautiful sight.
It was getting chilly, and we zipped ourselves in the tent once dinner was done and slept off, content.
The next day was foggy again, and an early rise and visit to the lake was rewarding.
The sun soon shooed the mist away, although both got trapped in a spider’s web
We went back to the lake later on and did a short hike till the Malerwinkel Aussichtspunkt (literal translation – Painter’s corner viewpoint), which as the name suggests is a view point from where a lot of painters painted the beautiful landscape. Personal note: I’m thoroughly enjoying pronouncing all the German words right now, after a gap of a year . People say the language sounds angry / harsh / unfriendly, but I really like the sound of it.
The next time we came to Berchtesgaden was in Spring, around the middle of April, and it poured for 5 days out of the 8 days that we were there!
However ,there were some delightful scenes to be seen right outside the tent, as overnight rain had left a carpet of water on the ground. Wildflowers had just started to bloom and along with the cool water, the whole place looked so fresh green, and fertile.
It was not breakfast time for us alone.
The lake was mysterious and intriguing green – different from what we had seen a few months back. Time and the seasons had woven a completely different shade into the surroundings.
We went off towards Obersee and saw some incredible reflections and shapes
Here’s the ‘normal’ view and the rotated photograph of the same view
There was another hike of about an hour and a half, which we took basically the entire day to complete(!) since the views were just too pretty. The clouds and the light kept changing, the sun went westwards as the day progressed and somehow the lake started getting stiller and seemingly clearer, and this is what we were offered a vision of:
Farther on, the views just got even more stunning.
After 4 days of non-stop rain, gray skies and hardly any color, these views were a reward.
At a certain point of time in life, the mind / heart wants more and more, never satisfied with what it already has.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine.
Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.
– Rabindranath Tagore
But that day was not one such day. We didn’t want any more / less of sunlight or clouds or wind or still waters or anything else. It was the most comfortable place to be in, the most ideal condition of everything in the Universe, and those five hours flew by in a second, and yet lasted for almost at eternity.
As I sit here typing this a little more than two years later, I feel the same state of mind returning.
Reluctant to leave, and yet leaving without regret, almost as if designed to rub it in, we stumbled onto this board near one of the villages.
”Die Welt hat genug für jedermanns Bedürfnisse, aber nicht für jedermanns Gier” – Mahatma Gandhi, meaning that the World has enough for everyone’s needs, but not for everyone’s Greed.
Powerful. Appropriate. Urgent.
We again went off to Hintersee, now that it was sunny. The magic of this place and the incredible profound powerful beauty of nature just kept surprising us. If this is not wealth, what is?
Here’s something that I had felt when we were here –> https://gabbartrip.wordpress.com/2014/06/29/the-third-eye/
The next day started off bright, but cloudy, and we immediately headed off for another hike (easy to identify the pattern, isn’t it? 🙂 )
We decided to take some photos of the lovely flowers local to this region – we’d picked up a book which mentioned their names and we were trying to absorb the local plants as well.
Driveways were lined like this:
You go left, I’ll go right.
That’s how we go underwater!
This is how the entire hillside looked like:
This tree in its convoluted shape and multiple shades looked like an abstract piece of art.
Little splashes of colors along the way, like tiny medals after completing a few sections of the trail.
Even though it was drizzling and was chilly, the water splashing down on us from the trees felt welcome and like a small prank played between us.
Fresh from a bath
That’s the summit, maybe there was a bit left to climb, but based on the time since the last milestone, we estimated that it wouldn’t be far from here. As such visibility was poor. That’s looking down into the valley, with the trail on the right of the photograph. We soaked in this view, and headed down.
The next day was bright and the river was pretty!!!! Check out the shade of the water!
We’re all close knit, aren’t we?
spot the evergreens vs the new leaves? 🙂 loved the shades, with the clouds lifting up and revealing higher slopes behind
Saw a giant squirrel going about it’s business, foraging for food, making a forest in the process.
Adjust the brightness, contrast and settings in your brain, then in your camera and you can spot butterflies in the canopy overhead!
Saw more than a few couples hand in hand – a warming sight.
Home for a week! 🙂 (the black tent, I mean!)
This style of housing where a small house was built just outside the bigger one, was where the parents stayed once they grew older. We found it to be an interesting, if slightly unusual, idea.
We met a very nice person on this trip, someone with whom we spent a good amount of time, some of it drinking a lot of wine in his caravan, and then going out for a couple of drives and walks. We spoke about a lot of things, and have some very good memories of him. He had taken us to Cafe Reber – home to the delicious Mozartkugeln and several cakes.
He also took us to the Gradierhaus which “is the world´s biggest open-air AlpsBrine Inhalatoriuman, located in Bad Reichenhall´s Kurpark. About 400,000 litres of AlpenSole (AlpsBrine) trickle down the 13 meter high walls, which are covered with hawthorn and blackthorn twigs. Take a walk around the Gradierhaus and breathe in the fresh air enriched with small salt water particles. This ‘sea-breeze’ air has proven to be highly beneficial to the respiratory passages.”
Walking around these walls is considered to be healthy, and we could not help but compare it mentally with how regions near a sea shore leave you relaxed and fresh.
If you didn’t like to walk inside, you could walk around the area, which, on a sunny day, would be radiating some wonderful colors thanks to the beautiful flowers.
A closer look at the ‘grid’ – the wall holds moisture as it trickles down, and gives a cooling effect as well.
Below is a stunning, thought provoking sculpture called ‘Die Pietà’ by Anna Chromy, situated outside the Salzburg Cathedral.
The plaque had the following words:
“Und aus der atmenden Brust.. fühl’ ich die Seele entfliehen
Die leere Hülle als Symbol dessen was uns überlebt:
die Liebe, die wir gaben.
die Werke, die wir schufen.
das Leid, das wir erduldeten.”
English translation to the best of my abilities:
“And from the breathing chest I feel the soul flee,
The hollow covering as a symbol of what survives us:
the love, we gave,
the works, we created,
the pain, we endured.”
Back at the campsite by night, and off to bed, having spent a wonderful day in very good company.
The next day was a sunny day after a lot of days of rain – quick, dry everything, breakfast can wait!
This is the little order book where we could place orders for fresh bread for the following day. Loved the system, and loved the breads, too – Mehrkorn, Kornspitz, Croissants, semmelbrot – most of them were very tasty, especially when we added some dips / jams and tea / soup into the equation!
Back to the routine of wandering outside 🙂
This would however be the last hike of the trip, and we would return back to ‘civilization’ the next day, with enough memories for many years to come.
I am reminded of what I read somewhere, about how ‘He whom God loves, is dropped into the Berchtesgadener Land’, a quote by Ludwig Ganghofer.
We’d been on our first winter trek, in January this year, to a place called Har-Ki-Dun (Valley of God). We’d wanted to (especially) experience the snowfall and witness the draping of the ceremonial white veil over everything, all the more so after having seen three winters in Germany.
Such is the gravity of the mountains, that I am going to skip the background and other details and dive straight into the heart of the electro-chemical storm that’s still raging in the area of my head where these memories are stored.
Just like the previous trek entry (https://gabbartrip.wordpress.com/2014/03/16/a-magical-trek-to-roopkund/), this will be a fairly long entry, simply because nature and the mountains have so much to offer, that putting it down in few words is tough, and unjust.
We changed several modes of transport and eventually reached Sankri which is the trailhead. The layers of fatigue were washed off when we saw the sparkling green, pristine waters of the Tons river flowing alongside tall pines which in turn carpeted tall hills. In our encyclopedic ignorance, we had thought that we would not be able to see such clear, green waters in India once we had returned back from Europe. But, of course we could. This magnificent collage of colours now seems to be present and stretching from the Julian Alps all the way to the Himalayas and who knows elsewhere. In such a big world, the amount, similarity and the diversity of beauty is indeed astonishing.
Green watered cousin from Slovenia:
The trees and mountains filtered the winter sun’s inclined rays on an anyway tilted face of the earth, and added an enriching layer of long shadows, silhouettes and gentle back-lit shades. We had some chirpy company in the car –Meenal and Anil (meaning Air) with whom the conversation remained a jolly and breezy affair. Her comment (technically an excuse!) of having to sit in the front seat since not only was she alert and awake, but also because she was a good driver and would assist the driver in pressing the (imaginary) brakes at her side, was quite infectious. I see the passenger foot-well as having brakes as well now!
The locals looked different by now – their attire, their features, their language and mannerisms, the type of songs that were played in cars and restaurants . Drivers teased each other and wedding songs played out in the car, which itself was ‘decked’ out in colorful carpets, stickers and a row of glass bangles jangling between the sun visors in the front row! Due to the inclines, a few buildings had vehicle parking on the terrace (which was closer in level to the sloping roads in places) and post lunch, going to the parking lot needed a change in habit. All this ‘foreign’ stuff right within India – just shows that once you increase your sensitivity, the observations just increase many fold. (“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes” – Marcel Proust)
Reaching the base ‘camp’, the energy of the batch which had just returned was noticeably high. Our group was starting very slowly in that regards, a formal round of introduction not doing much in terms of team building. It would take more than a day’s climbing, a bit of perspective from our trek leader and a round of informal ‘’share-your-most-memorable-moment-in-life” discussion which helped. A couple of people were more instrumental in pushing up the group’s energy and this rubbed on eventually to a point where it felt like a team by the end of the trek.
The first day was 11 km of up and down through a beautiful valley. The mountains were brown and snowless, turning into deep orange in the setting sun’s light. The trail ran alongside the Supin river (the Rupin and Supin rivers join into the Bhaghirathi), and the constant rush of water was impressive to see. Crossing old wooden bridges, and also rafts of planks acting as bridges, we occasionally climbed higher from where the river looked a completely different shade. The trail forked several times, but the trick was to follow mule excreta along the way. Mules are the lifeline here; not only assisting the villagers in their daily transportation but also assisting the trekkers in carrying loads during the trekking season.
Young kids waved wildly and continuously as they saw us walk by lower down in the valley. We waved back, and shared a moment of innocent playfulness with them as we made actions and gestures which they copied, only for us to change them, or change the pace, and wait for them to respond. Smile, rinse and repeat! As always in villages, kids seem to be so full of energy and innocence and able to take joy out of seemingly nothing. This is something we would experience again on the last day of the trek.
Patches of ice on the trail made walking tricky. Parts of the trail looked like they didn’t receive much sunlight (thanks to the mountain slopes and trees on both sides) and it seemed that these patches would melt only when the temperature rose later on in the year.
We had paused for lunch when we had reached a clearing, soaking in the sunlight and the views for a moment before moving onward.
We were a mixed group – young and old (early 20’s to mid-50’s), rookies and experienced (multiple high altitude treks and expeditions), people with different priorities (some who wanted to trek more than talk or photograph more and so on) and it was inevitable that the group split into sub groups. If anything, this led to some photographs of the trail with people on it.
Reaching Osla, an old village, considered one of the older ones in India at about 2000 years old, we took a small break and walked through the small settlement of houses. It was a rich culture locked away in the folds of the mountain, preserved by the isolation and harsh weather of the region.
We saw women washing clothes in a big wooden bowl inside which they climbed and stamped the clothes clean. At the end of the trek, we gave our medicines to Max who was collecting them for the village. We also saw toddlers learning how to walk directly on the rolling terrain, something which was quite scary!
Further on, we saw a frozen waterfall across the valley.
We reached the campsite, legs and resolve a little shaky after the first day’s climb, but the fatigue was nothing that a few moments of rest and some food wouldn’t cure. The importance of staying hydrated was reiterated and by evening all was well. Garlic soup helps in acclimatization and was a healthy welcome choice. We were told to drink atleast 4-5 liters of fluids now.
The wish to see a lot of snow and a deep dark starry night wasn’t really being fulfilled though. There was a lull in snowfall, and the skies were either cloudy at night or were polluted through smoke from the fires lit by villagers to clear land for sowing mainly grass, and by the solar lighting in the villages. However, it was much clearer than the city ‘air’ that we live in and we still saw some spectacular sunsets, moon-rises and shooting stars 🙂 Not being able to see what we’d imagined we would be able to see on cold, dark nights at high altitude was a fair disappointment, but it is easier to get rid of such disappointments in such regions. The scale of everything (the peaks, skies, clouds, forests, meadows, etc) offered much variety, and the almost knife-straight stream trimmed wayward thoughts quickly.
Leaving the Kalkatiyadhar camp the next day, we started climbing. It would be a shorter climb, however it would be the day with the first view of the peaks! Looking back, we caught a glimpse of the beautiful campsite
Greeted by stunning views. The stretch of white is known as Devasuthaj, which reflected the moonlight in a very ethereal fashion. Just loved it.
“The reason why most places of power and grace have always been on mountain tops is because by the time you reach there whatever ideas you have about yourself shall fall apart.” – Sadhguru, from the book ‘Ultimate Outlaw’.
What Sadhguru has said above makes so much sense. Once broken, if one is conscious, you will be careful and more observant about what kind of image you are building about yourself. Effectively you are getting a chance to reform (re-form) yourself since it is only after you have dismantled certain ideas that you can realign them better. This is what the trail does to you – your notions of limits, strength, control etc. are all dissolved away and replaced with a healthy dose of humility mixed in.
The trail was difficult for the mules as well – with steep drops on one side, and with us taking up space from their paths while we hugged the mountain and forced them to creep towards the edge negotiating us…Felt a little sorry for them..
Nearing the final campsite, the switchbacks and the views got even more stunning.
Light and shadow added even more depth and contrast to the landscape. The colours were stunning – dark canopies, bright tree barks, pale boulders with bright tufts of grass, and of course shiny patches of snow..
The trail criss-crossed paths with semi frozen streams. At a couple of places downstream, we had seen flour mills powered by these waters busily grinding the local cereal.
while the grass seemed to be on fire..
Dogs are much respected in Uttarakhand and there is also a story from Mahabharata associated with them. Next to Har Ki Dun peak stands the (huge) Swargarohini massif. It is said that Yudhishthir chose to remain true to the dog till the end; the dog had been faithful to him and eventually led him to Swarga while the others perished on the way. Hence the peak is named Swargarohini, i,e, Swarga (Heaven) + Aarohan (to ascend) The dog is considered to have been an avatar of Indra.
Later on, while walking near the campsite, we ”spotted” a ”dog” in the stream. Are you able to as well?
Stunning campsite – flanked by mountains, ego dissolves. Hata peak and (part of) Har-Ki-Dun peak visible here
Colors erupting as the sun sank lower.
Colors erupting and saturating , some colors brighten up the day months, miles and moods away..
Sunset by the river
As the night wore itself and us out, a frozen combination of clogged nasal passages, bursting bladders and numb toes and fingers stepped out into the morning, to the cries of ”Chalo guys!! Chaaaaai!!”. Run! 🙂
Is the sun already up? Yes. But it is not visible. It has risen behind the mountain in the east, and the first sunrays are instead visible on Hata peak in the west! Every day that we saw the possibility of a sunny day, our hopes soared, and the mind got ready, checking knees, ankles, back, shoulders, etc. for suppleness. We traced the rising sun and the sunlight, as it trickled in, slowly, gathering intensity and pouring into the valley, filling it from top to bottom. The ‘simplest’ of the natural phenomena seem to have the most magical effects. Maybe we would appreciate it a bit more in the cities too, if we were not so hot and bothered about things already. Sigh.
Sun rays on Kedarkantha
Camping here was a privilege. The views were stunning, the weather harsh. Water in our bottles froze inside the tent if you had forgotten to put it inside the woolen liner where body heat would keep it ‘warm’. We had a buffer day here, and a few hours were spent memorably peeping out of the tent, away from the wind.
We had a day off which we spent well wandering off near the campsite towards Jaundhar glacier and the V-A-S-T snowfields nearby.
The scale of the place was spectacular. Check out the tiny specks walking in the centre of the photograph below.
Back at our camp for the final night, we packed up knowing we would be leaving the next day. Sooner than I liked, it was time to turn back downwards. The trek was almost over. Another 2 days of walking and it would be done. Drink, drink, drink – don’t forget to drink – Again, after a rest day at the Har Ki Dun campsite (rest meant walking slower and with just a day-pack) the Partial O2 and heart rate readings had improved. It constantly amazes me how the body adapts.
In our dinner tent, there was a special moment when Max played a song on his phone which he kept inside a steel jug. Check out the Kabir song here –> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQBn90M9ixo. Thank you Max! 🙂
The next morning, we woke up with one eye on the sky especially since there had been a few snowflakes over the past couple of days. This was the last batch before the trail closed for winter, and all the wonderful support staff would be packing up each camp along the way as we all went back. Our guides and trek leader were concerned about impending heavy snowfall – “It hasn’t snowed since many days, and if it starts now, it won’t stop for several days. We need to move.” Breakfast done, sleeping bags rolled, bodies stretched, water filled, snacks packed, backpack straps adjusted, we start off.
After crossing the village on the way down, we saw a man climbing up with a cloth sling across his chest. We had stopped for a pause and we got an inkling it was a baby, to which he confirmed, saying it was indeed a 3 day old newborn baby. I asked if his mother was ok, and his reply was ‘she is just a few minutes behind, on her way’. To imagine a mother climbing up such steep slopes within three days of delivering a child – that is strength. All our ideas of how romantic life is on the mountains were washed out. We city people seem to be patting our backs for carrying our own back packs…
The views meanwhile continued to be beautiful.
Overall, for us, the trek was challenging, but doable. We were much more disciplined and better prepared than the last time around. Lots of fluid intake, eating proper food (daal / chawal, and not junk food), listening to the body and mind, stretching at the start and end of the day, breathing deeply, walking around the campsite once the day’s trek had ended helped us acclimatize better.
Edit: I am reminded of these psychotropic words by Albert Camus when I think about the experience now: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”
What pained me a lot was seeing the rubbish litter of plastic wrappers, defacing this majestic work of creation like ugly graffiti – “Man loves plastic” or “We came, we munched, we littered”. So disrepectful and harmful. Awareness and concern / compassion towards something beyond ourselves is what will slow down and hopefully kill this plastic menace. Lessons we learn in the mountains, in nature – consume less, live sensibly, plan before you do something, show some respect, be punctual and disciplined – these need to be brought back to our cities. Life without a mobile phone is possible, an orange peel may work very well as a scrub and sunscreen, listening to your body and respecting it will take you places, how you talk to the people in the mountains maybe can be brought back ‘downstairs’. We had been given Eco-Bags by Indiahikes (http://indiahikes.in/green-trails/), and we tried to pick up as much litter as we could. The quest and resolve to consume ‘increasingly lesser’ packaged items (food, lifestyle, etc.) got strengthened there (take just 1 biscuit packet between the two of us, instead of the one per head allocated) and the same quest continues everyday here as well. I hope I can lead a lifestyle with minimal long lasting impact, and hope that several small steps will quickly help me cover a lot of ground in that direction. What motivates me to consume lesser is the timeline showing how many years things take to decompose (bottom of the page in the link above). It is quicker, and better, to let a poor habit decompose instead 🙂
Again, this trek would have been very different and difficult without Monu and Naaru (assistant trek leaders / sweepers), Naina-the cook, Max, our trek leader and the other staff who were so capable and jovial while doubling up and performing multiple roles seemingly effortlessly. Also thanks to the guys off the slopes and in the offices who make the entire process easy and efficient. May you all be happy and trek safely!
Edit: Here’s something I would wish for you and for everyone who might want to experience this : “May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you — beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.” – Edward Abbey
Some of the trek members we had were very inspiring – elderly people in their mid-50’s, who climbed, spoke and understood things so well that they left a good mark in the memory. I am happy that most of us are still in touch, and I would like to meet all the members of the trek again.
It is difficult to forget an immersion such as this one in nature, the simple reason being that a part of me is still there on the trail, trying to stay warm, soaking in the views, breathing in the clean air and feeling privileged in being able to be having such experiences.