"I dont want to go back over Rohtang". I heard my thoughts echoed
in space. I looked around and saw Vikram looking expectantly at
me. We all had the same thought. We didnt want our adventure to
end already and we certainly didnt want to get on a bus and leave
for Manali. "Nyima jee, yahan se Dashaur ka raastaa hai?",(Is there a road to Dashaur?) I
asked. I knew Dashaur was a sacred and mystical lake somewhere to
the east of Rohtang jot and was supposed to be incredibly
beautiful. But i had only heard of people climbing to it from
Marhi, on the other side of the Pir Panjals. I was sitting in
Koksar at the base on the other end. "Haan jee, ek din ka raasta
hai!". I ask Nyima for the details of the route but he can only
provide me a general direction and says we shud be able to reach
it by evening if we cross the glacier alright.
We set off early next morning after Vikram had successfully
managed to choke the sewage system of koksar for the next 6 months
with a truckload of toilet paper.We climbed the almost vertical mountain behind Koksar. There was no path, not even a hint of a trail. we just traversed up the steep incline as best as we could and within a
couple of hours, commanded an eagle's view of Koksar and the
Chandra valley for miles on both sides. The Chandra was almost a
fluoroscent green and had a gleam about its glacial waters that
looked quite surreal.It meandered swiftly through the deep valley
between the Pir Panjal to the south and the CB peaks to the north.
We reached a broad meadow at the top of the climb and gaped at the
waterfall which exploded water horizontally like a water canon. I
went ahead to investigate the path and was accosted by an
incredible view. The nala had narrowed into a gushing torrent
tearing through a gorge less than 20 feet wide and at the head of
the gorge was a hanging glacier from under which the milky torrent
roared into life. There was a 50 foot waterfall right at the head
of the glacier. It was an incrdible sight.
We got up and headed up the steep mountain to the true left of the
glacier and headed dead south straight towards the huge mountain
representing the Pir Panjal's intimidating might. The terrain
turned from meadows to boulders and glacier moraine and the going
was slow and tiring. The effort was more than compensated by
the tremendous sense of awe I felt at looking around me.
I could see the snow and ice across the chandra valley and the highest peak in the CB group, Mulkila, far to the
north east. To the south, towering above my head was a beautiful
giant mountain with glaciers hanging off it and waterfalls falling
but never reaching the ice below. The long, serpentine glacier
snaked below me as I walked on its lateral moraine. I felt like I
had penetrated to the sacred heart of the Pir Panjals, which
technically, I had.
After a short rest we decided to cross the
glacier and we had to head west at the top, and walk along its eastern bank. The glacier was filled with
gaping crevasses and was covered with fallen boulders and fresh
snow. We trudged carefully together and crossed it without
incident in half an hour. The nervous energy gave way to euphoria
and we glided up on a cloud of exhuberance. Soon walking on fresh snow and moraine sapped our morale and we were
eagerly looking out for the lake beyond the next ridge...the next
ridge..the next ridge...the ridges were conspiring to multiply
against us. The wind was fierce and biting cold. It seared my
throat as it went down through my gasping mouth.
I balance on the sheet of ice forming below me, as I run through a white world of snow and sleet, breathing the stark beauty I love, aware that I cannot stop for pause here, now.
| Hanuman Tibba looked like I could touch it. Far, far below was the green oasis of Marhi. To the north, the vertical peak of Geopang Goh dominated along with three peaks that looked exactly like a manifestation of Bhole Nath's trishul. |
| | |
|
Finally I saw the pile of rocks signifying a gaddi camp. A
solitary cairn of stones stood surrounded by snow and beyond it
was a depression. The depression was surrounded on three sides by
peaks and ridges and the only outlet was along the glacial nala
that we had followed up. That HAD to be the lake. I dropped my
rucksack and ran towards the unseen depression. what I saw
shocked me completely. THERE WAS NO LAKE..!! The snow melted off
the amphiteatre of ridges and flowed down into the nala. There was
no lake. We had endured the day with the thought of
reaching a heavenly lake at the end of the day.
|
Gurgle..Gurgle....grrrr.....bbbrrrr....gurgle....I woke up to find
my stomach making strange noises...must have been the bacon...it
didnt taste right..toilet paper time..!! As soon as I unzipped my tent and poked my head out, I was
mesmerised. The moon was exactly half but the light that
emanated, reminded me of one of those sci-fi movies where the
aliens descend from shining space saucers. It was such a magical
night. The stars were shining bright and clear againt pitch black
velvet. And the moon was intoxicating.
Gurgle..Gurgle....grrrr.....bbbrrrr....gurgle....yeah right..!!
After attending to matters a little less romantic I stared around
me in a trance. The snow peaks were shining like huge goblins and
I was in love with the world. I thought about waking up Vikram and
asking him to bring out his tripod and taking a night shot, but I
was afraid his reaction might be less than friendly. I retreated
back to bed and was soon in blissful dreamland, dreaming of
back-lit fairies and snow flakes falling in slow-motion.
We climbed the ridge,
something to my far right reflected the sun that was not snow. I
looked. I could not believe it. it could not be. Yet, indeed it was the crystal waters of Dashaur lake. Oh my god, we had been 1 hour
walk away from the lake and had not known it.The lake was
absolutely beautiful. A small glacial lake surrounded by cairns
that devout Buddhists and Hindus had placed as offerings in prayer. The lake is situated on a pass in the Pir Panjals and is
over 4200 m high. To the south, the views encompassed ridge after
ridge of mountains down to Kullu. Hanuman Tibba looked like I
could touch it. Far, far below was the green oasis of Marhi. To the
north, the vertical peak of Geopang Goh dominated along with three
peaks that looked exactly like a manifestation of Bhole Nath's
trishul.
It was a heavenly setting. It is one of the most
powerfully beautiful places I have ever been to. I knelt before
the lake and prayed to this earthly abode of god. I drank the
sweet water of the lake and felt blessed to have been allowed to
view and feel the divine power of this place. Strange is his leela
indeed...when you are seeking, he hides his treasures behind
invisible situations, and when you have given up hope and are making your way home, he opens his heart and shows you his secrets.
We set out for civilization feeling content and blessed. The drop
from Dashaur to Marhi is steep and we descended cautiously
breaking icicles off rocks and crunching on them. A little above
Marhi, we stopped to see the thousands of tourists crawling up to
Rohtang in uncountable sumos and jeeps, belching huge clouds of
black smoke and throwing biscuit wrappers into the pristine green.
I did not feel sad, nor angry, I did not feel superior, nor right. I just felt in love with life...I just felt in
touch with Dashaur, the mystical magic lake.
