Still, we rise

SWEPT BY RAIN, WIND AND ALMOST-CELESTIAL MOMENTS, A TREK ALONG THE HIMALAYA’S SINGALILA RIDGE LEFT ASHIS GHATAK WAXING POETIC

- ASHIS GHATAK

Serenading the majestic Khangchendzonga from the corridors of a mountain trail is a compulsive desire for any trekker in Sikkim. For a group of zealous boys in their 20s, that becomes the sole motivation for a visit. A senior among this group of eight, I was not an exception. But this time, I chose to stroll along this path in April—a relatively unfamiliar time—with a different purpose.

My homestay in Hilley, our last motorable point before we ventured into the Khangchendzonga Biosphere Reserve, offered a view of the horizon in misty layers. As the rain-soaked foliage became cloaked by clouds, I could see it dented the spirit of my young comrades. However, it only spurred my excitement. Out came our ponchos, and we took our first step into the Varsey Rhododendron Sanctuary, our gentle entry for the Singalila trek.

The sky was hardly visible, but a curious reddish glow surrounded us. Mammoth bamboo shoots formed an archway above, an occasional overhanging creeper breaking my trance as I gazed at the glistening vegetation. Veering into thicker pine woods ahead, we found that overnight showers had turned long stretches of the trail soggy and muddy. In the silence, I was fascinated by the squelch of shoes on wet soil, the mossy stone softening the stomp of my trek pole as unseen insects buzzed continuously.

Our camping ground for the first day—a mild ascent—was Deonangali Dhap, located beside a marsh. A sprawling heath dotted with hedges and thickets, it was enveloped in mist that wrought an ominous desolation. It reminded me of the tormenting allure of Wuthering Heights. At a distance, smoke rose beside the camp of an unknown group of vagabonds. Our support staff quickly set up a fire, and we huddled around with mugs of tea.