Welcome to Sikkim
“ I have scaled the mountain; Thy myriads of corporeal worlds that travel in the eternal sea of space! I have beholden that all the stars in heaven would not fill the hollow of Thy Hand; yea, that Thy breath moveth the universe! The glory of Thy works hath inspired me with madness to come to Thy Mighty Home!” – Tae, Ch.I, Oahspe, Book of Knowledge
Howrah – New Jalpaigudi – Jorethang – Yuksom 6th Oct, 2005
We took five cabs from campus, with about four people in each, a large group of twenty one, and left Joka and bought a malfunctioning spider man mask, in a burst of festive spirit, on our way to the Sealdah station. At the station, we waited with our rucksacks, the guitar and each other, hungry and surrounded by hunger, pulling time with the intention of hurrying into the train. A mad beggar ate my biscuits and rolled on the floor like he was in great pain. Sad. We entered the train, and after an uneventful night of cards, food and little sleep, we woke up at NJP with our luggage, transported it to three large jeeps after huge negotiations and headed to Yuksom, earlier capital of the state of Sikkim. We stopped for lunch, after being mesmerized by the views of the Himalayan foothills and plains, the first time for some of us, at a busy town called Jorethang. We ate rotis, rice, dal, vegetables and papad at the marwari bhojanalya. The post-lunch jeep ride was much less nauseating compared to the morning drive, and as a result was a lot more lazy, until of course we reached the border of West Bengal and Sikkim, at Melli, and after a short stop for minor bureaucratic procedures and a short collection of maps and similar paper goodies, we headed on to Yuksom. We reached a few hours after sunset and occupied rooms at hotel yangrigang. We went out for a walk at night and reached the coronation palace, apparently Yuksom was the capital of Sikkim long before Gangtok, and so the place was quite a royal experience with a huge verandah and a very posh dining room and reception. We also tried to find the monastery, but the path was completely unlit and we had no idea where we were going. So we went back to the hotel for a dinner of rotis, potato and dal. I found an old copy of Aleister Crowley’s ‘Moonchild’, and a couple of French exchange students from IIM Lucknow, but unfortunately they couldn’t join us the next day when we left for a higher climb. In any case, there were quite a few discussions on local folklore and we knew not.
Yuksom – Bakhim – Tsokha 7th Oct, 2005
We left the hotel at Yuksom early in the morning after a reasonably heavy breakfast of two muffins, tea and biscuits. We even found some mango cornflakes that I had never seen before, and tasted really sweet, like an artificial mango drink or other synthetic fruit-like liquids. The climb to Bakhim was very difficult, and our route involved crossing four bridges. We encountered at the second bridge, four yaks crossing a stream, throwing me and my red backpack off balance, balancing on slippery water stones. The first yak noticed me in fear, and almost charged while entering the lake, and suddenly walked off in a different direction. The next one danced with his cowbell while continuing past me. All this while, I was perched on a rock dodging yaks and turbulent flows, but soon I was free again, with the Himalayas, trees all around me, and butterflies on my side constantly fluttering in no particular direction. So, many hours and discussions later, we stopped after the third bridge across a huge river, and soon the bridge that held our trembling feet oscillated in the wind and rain, and on the other end, we stopped for maggi and discovered on our feet, leeches, growing and sucking continuously for an explosive bloody end. We climbed onward, after a long break, towards Bakhim, where there were no people but a large spooky tourist lodge and a family nearby. We proceeded onward towards Tsokha which they said was less than an hour away, uphill. It seemed like a lot more, what with all the steep climb and muddy, marshy path of crazy danger, constantly lurking with whispers in the trees, stroking my ears with their cries for help, pulling me back to earth, as I climb on and on. And so I reach Tsokha with four others, and unload for the evening. We met travelers from across the globe, but one of them puked at our dinner table, just before our meal, and we, too cold to react. We were eventually fast asleep.
Tsokha – Pedang – Dzongri 8th Oct, 2005
We left the tourist lodge after much confusion and headed towards Dzongri at 3950m, perhaps the highest I have ever been. The initial climb was very steep and strenuous and the Himalaya always proves itself, separating the week from the strong. As we climbed on, we discovered more rain, fewer trees, more marshes, yaks and horses (pronounced yucks and yucks respectively). Soon, we were in the drying lands of a deserted vegetation. The trees grew thinner but more colourful, some were even red or green with hues we couldn’t recognise ourselves. One had a peculiar face, it was completely red with green eyes and a mouth, its bark perhaps meaner, but I couldn’t recognise it myself. Who it was… probably just somebody’s practical joke. We climbed on, and the rocks and mud grew more formidable. Soon, I was surrounded by yaks and horses again, but I continued to climb toward the little birds, and eagles above. We were supposed to stop for lunch at a little cabin in Pedang, but it was raining like crazy and there was certainly no space or food for twenty four, so while the others waited for food or the lunching rain to end, many of us climbed on toward the Dzongri peak, meeting place of man and god, and what was supposed to be another short one hour trek turned out to be a lot more, weakening, strenuous and power sapping and after the beautiful climb, and a few descends and more climbs, we stumbled on this particularly snaky winding road that sent us toward Dzongri, and unlike yesterday, we reached in time a lot before the sunset, and at the end of it, we were comfortably seated, with more maggi and a warm mat below for protection. The trek today was far easier than yesterday, so we stepped out again in the evening for a stroll to the viewpoint nearby, and the fifteen minute trek at this height turned out to be more of a disaster than a blessing, as it was seriously cold and we didn’t have too much of a view with all the clouds and rocks blocking the way, so we went back to the hut for a long sleep after a good dinner of rotis, rice, dal and vegetables. Dzongri is very cold.
Dzongri – Kokchurong 9th Oct, 2005
My attachment to the highest place I’ve ever been in doesn’t seem to wane with the cold or my aching head. We wake up and walk towards a nearby point where we view the sunrise floating like lava over the snowy peaks, Khanchendzonga, Kabru and a few others. The wind is incredibly chill and the dynamic views kept us rooted to the spot, but eventually we returned to the hut for an absolutely amazing breakfast of poori, channa and onion curry with mashed potatoes but it was too much for the climb ahead of us, more of a descend really, to this quiet riverside cabin at Kokchurong, where we were welcomed with the same sweet chocolate like tea, that I have never had before and great soup. I even tried to bathe in the river, but ended up almost dead cold, and screamed an expletive, as the chill surged up my spine that must have really rocked the lonely mountains. I apologize. We discovered a little fireplace behind the massive log cabin where I tried drying some old, smelly clothes that got wet from the rain yesterday. Apparently, it is improper to start a fire or generate one after sunset, and we found it exceedingly hard to do so. After several unsuccessful attempts, we gave up and went in for dinner, probably the best I have ever eaten, with those protein enriched meat substitute balls, whatever they’re made of, potato, onion and egg curry with rotis and rice. The peaks we saw at sunrise, apart from the Khanchendzonga, were Kabru which was a barrier between Goechala and Sandakphu, from where we had earlier witnessed a similar majestic sunrise. The dark valley of Kokchurong with a lone aluminium roofed cabin surrounded by red and green moss covered hairy trees was quite breathtaking and sometimes surreal. After dinner, for a change, we had a three stage concert. The first, by the fireplace outside the cabin where few understood the words, but felt the music in a much deeper way. The next with confused friends who felt the words escaping the candlelight, and lastly, with the whole gang talking to spiders escaping waning candlelit choruses of cold.
Kokchurong – Thangseng – Lamoni – Sungmoteng Lake 10th Oct, 2005
The last leg of our journey, where we carried a few essentials like one set of dry clothes, a sleeping bag and shoes and warm clothes, we started a little after a sun rising hidden behind peaks that create our valley, Kokchurong. We climbed to Thangseng, a huge plain surrounded by a gigantic dark rock on one side, and snow covered peaks on the other side, and a large cabin in the middle for rest, perhaps colder than a closed valley, but with more stars to enjoy the night sky, and who wouldn’t need a fire at this altitude. We climbed on to Lamoni where we pitched our tents by the noisy river that grew out of a higher lake. After raising the tents, which occurred to me as upside down ships, we strolled to the nearby Sungmoteng lake that was surrounded by flowers of all hues, particularly indigo and red with a sparkle of yellow. After circling the lake once, and encountering a blackness in a cave within a cave, we crossed again, the stream that flowed into the lake, and this time, it was far too dangerous but our lives were safe and minutes later, we crawled back to a most amazing lunch of soup and rotis with aloo. Most of the afternoon was spent laughing in jest and digestion, while the late evening comprised of a discussion on learning from last year’s experiences at Goechala, which were inspiring, scary and productive. The dreams that follow hold us sleeping or carry us upward. Our discussions carried on to our guide’s experiences with far more intense expeditions such as the one to the Everest base camp and Khanchendzonga. Adventures not just with life and death, but the government, sponsorship and other ponderous issues. We were given hot water and tea before bed, again the same chocolate flavored drink that may have kept us colder and awake. In the long run, sweet temptation, and taste buds in contemplation.
Lamoni – Goechala – Kokchurong 11th Oct, 2005
The most memorable day of my life yet. We were woken up at about two in the morning, and were supposed to reach the Goechala viewpoint at sunrise. The trek in absolute darkness, windy and chilly, after mildly nauseating flakes of corn and milk, was a real astronaut like experience with about fifteen of us following each other single file, with torches, under a clear starlit sky and crossing over rocks and branches in the streams spinning by Sungmoteng lake, which is a whole different experience in absolute darkness. After crossing the lake, and very dangerous deceptive iced rocky paths, we headed into the Himalayan desert sands. I heard the cries of wolves, and saw the strangest birds appear, but that kept me occupied as I quietly crept on, hungry, tired and very weak from the already complicated climb. So the last stretch was not only long and difficult, like a beach jog that is equally exhausting, it was also very dangerous and I almost collapsed while climbing the last rock wall thing, where the smaller pebbles were constantly sliding under my feet and carrying me off back downhill. I also lost my water bottle one time, when it landed on a rock, rolled off into a valley and wedged itself between two bigger pebbles, eventually transforming from an aluminum flask to a dented tin cylinder. But soon after, I followed it, quietly sliding down and holding on to crevices and rocks for dear life. I even had a near death experience as I went on the pass between the mountains with a valley on one side, puddles of snow and slippery spherical boulders, while on the other side; I had to again slip down a very unstable mud and stone territory to return to the path left behind. Finally, with a little help from my friends, I made it up to Goechala. I was weak, breathless and colder than a numb skull. But I was here. My lips were purplish yellow and the skin on my scalp screamed for warmth and this peak towering in front of me and sun rays bathing it in its morning glory. There was nothing here in me but the silence echoing outside. And the still lake in the valley, another mind numbing matter of liquid grace.
11th Oct, 2005
End of Series
“the blossoms this standing tree bears cause that world to be light, making it light for the man-beings dwelling there”
– Iroquoian Cosmology of the Onondaga Tribe
