HIDE AND PEAK

As Himachal Pradesh grapples with floods, SUSHMITA SRIVASTAV reflects on a trek to the Hampta Pass that underscored the significance of the journey over the destination.

- SUSHMITA SRIVASTAV

The Lesser Himalayan ranges pierced the sky in the backdrop, a gentle brook babbled over giant rocks, and the makeshift bridge running over it made the scenery postcard-worthy.

KNEE DEEP IN WHITE, powdery snow at 3,657 metres, I leaned on my trekking pole for support, gasping for air. Behind me, a few of my fellow trekkers were still struggling to cross the icy-cold stream that I had just managed to jump over. Ahead, many had queued up, holding on to a thick rope in an attempt to cross over one of the many alpine glaciers. I was at Balu Ka Ghera en route Hampta Pass in Himachal Pradesh, trying hard to stay focussed. But my partially foggy brain wandered off yet again—to the shooting pain in my hamstring that was slowly numbing my right leg, the mammoth mountains that were making my life problems feel insignificant, and the misgivings about making it to the summit!

A sharp yelp brought me back to my senses. One of the trekkers had lost his balance and was now slipping at an alarming speed through the snow towards the roaring Rani Nallah river! I shut my eyes, my heart thumped madly, and my knees felt even weaker than before.

A few seconds passed before I mustered the courage to open my eyes, only to see Om and Mankesh, our guides, dragging the guy back to the slope. Once back to safety, Om signalled the group to take five. I managed to cross the slope and hauled myself onto a boulder poking out of the snow, my rucksack still hugging my heaving chest. I closed my tired eyes to catch a breath or two in peace before it was time to move again.

HAMPTA PASS TREK