Manali Pass – Day 9

At home, having to wake up early always seems to be a difficult task. But while on holiday, it somehow becomes second nature to none. I woke up early as usual, feeling fresh and eager to start yet another new day. The climax of the trip had finally arrived. We would be trekking up to Manali Pass at 4,800m.

I unzipped the tent, had a peep outside and saw the clear blue sky awaiting us. I dashed out immediately to catch the cool morning breeze. It was so...so refreshing. I walked over to the kitchen tent to get some hot water. Ram was busy cooking while Sangy was seen getting ready some ingredients.

Ram and Sangy seemed to make good working partners. They were both originally from Nepal. Sangy is a fine young man with a very cheerful and sunny disposition while Ram, besides the charming smile, always surprised us with different menu and delicious dishes.

The campsite was located on a plateau, devoid of any trees and protection, unlike camp 1. Breakfast was held close to the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley with the stunning Himalayan Range in the backdrop. What a novelty!

After breakfast, we left at about 8.40. We would be trekking up to Manali Pass then returned to the same camp for another night.

Shortly after we started walking, I turned back towards the direction of the campsite and saw Ram and Sangy clearing the breakfast ‘table’ while Jhaba Ram, the horseman took the horses grazing. Where the campsite was, the ground was almost barren and so Jhaba had to take the horses to lower level to look for grass.

While one may be bowled over by the beautiful and spectacular scenery, the trails would keep you on your toes sometimes and your adrenalin high.

While the trails on the first day was generally green, dry and sandy, and at times without clear cut path, etc; the subsequent trails were rocky, muddy, sometimes extremely narrow and sandwiched between snow.

We began to ascend, at times very steep. We were traversing across the mountain on a narrow ledge, full of boulders, rock pieces and stones, some were loose. Prudent was the order of the day as a misstep could send one down the slope.

At 4,000m above sea level, we were above treeline. Flowers were far and few. We were at wide open space. As it was still early into the trekking season, we were the only group of trekkers. Indeed, we were having ‘the whole world to ourselves’. I really enjoyed the peace, the serenity and the tranquility.

About one hour into trekking, we came to the snow field where we saw Tek and company coming down the day before (when they went to assess the situation). My heart skipped a beat. But with Tek’s help, and step by step, I crossed the snow field!

As we were huffing and puffing along the steep rocky trail, I looked up and saw what appeared to be the ‘top’ of the mountain, I asked Tek, ‘Is that the ridge we are supposed to reach before going up to the Pass?’

‘No, we are going much higher up, still far away,’ Tek replied.

‘Oh!’ I responded.

More huffs, more encounter of snow and climb later, we came to the steep slope (the one where the horses were not able to go up). Yes, STEEP is the word. Chin and I looked at each other then turned to Tek, ‘We are going up there?’ asking the obvious. My jaw dropped, my heart cringed.

Chin and I took turn to go up, with Tek’s help. I went first. On the way up, I slipped. I got up and slipped again. Somehow, I seemed to have lost all grips – between the shoes and snow, between my hands and Tek’s, and perhaps even of my confidence. I felt powerless. I looked up and saw that I was barely 3m away from the top of the slope and beyond, the spectacular view beckoned me. I regained my composure and determined to make it; and with a hard pull from Tek, I was over the slope and on to the ridge. I was overjoyed.

Chin and Tek were up soon after. We were at about 4,300m high. Tek told us that we were at part of the Manali Pass, and that we would ascend further to about 4,800m.

I was completely entranced by the view, a 360 degree view. At every angle we turned, a different vista greeted us. On one side, we had the Dhauladhar range where Manali Pass is and down below was the Kullu valley. Across where we were, was another lower mountain, peppered with pockets of snow.

As we stopped to enjoy and savour the panoramic view of the Himalayan Range, and busy snapping photos away, the wind became much stronger and it was getting very cold. We put on our jacket and moved on. The scenery was indeed overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

After a slow walk on the gentle grassed-trail, we came to another snow field before we reached our final destination at 4,800m, a small peak of sort. The snow-covered trail continued and some distance away, was another higher peak, above 5,000m, we were told. I asked Tek where that lead to and was told, ‘Dharamsala, 15 days trek away.’ That reminded me of the day when we had the long journey from Dharamsala to Manali and asking why wouldn’t we travel direct from west to east. I knew why then.

About two hours into our adventure on the Pass, dark clouds loomed over the horizon, time to leave. We started to descend. By then, snow fields and the steep slopes all became a familiar sight. We had a quick lunch on our way before reaching the slope where we could either walk or slide. I chose the latter. It saved us a lot of walking. We reached the campsite at about 2.45pm.

Soon after we arrived, it started to rain and the wind was getting stronger and stronger.

Besides the kitchen tent and the dining tent, we also had a toilet tent. The wind was so strong that the toilet collapsed in the midst of the strong wind. It happened just seconds after Chin came out from it. It was kind of funny. Just the day before, during the strong wind and heavy rain, Chin was saying that, ‘What happen if the toilet got blown off when someone is inside?’ Her ‘prediction’ came true minus the person inside, fortunately.

The rain stopped and the wind abated. Just before four, we had our afternoon tea, before we retired for some rest.

Chin and I were recounting our experience, talking and joking when suddenly the quiet evening was shattered by the hard pouring rain. The wind was howling and our tent was flapping ferociously. Then we realised that water was coming into our tent near the entrance and at the side. As we could not get out to ask for help from the crew because the rain was too heavy, we did the best we could. We took out our spare towels to soak up the water, put some plastic bags (trash bags to be exact) around and moved away from it. With the limited space of the tent, we could not move too far!

We were thankful that the rain and wind did not come when we were still on the trail. It was indeed an experience that would linger on long after I have left the place.