23rd October
Equipped with an assurance for an accommodation at Dobato, we started off for the first of the four passes. The day was expected to be long. I had my skepticism but everyone else didn’t think much about it. It came as a surprise. On every trek, the day of crossing a high pass is considered crucial (kind of a D-day). This is because that day tests the limits and once you’re through, rest becomes easy. Such days are physically demanding and usually comes with risky terrains either while going up or while descending. For example, we started at 3:45 from Dharamsala to cross Larkya la during the Manaslu circuit trekking. The descent from the pass gave me a tough time. It was entirely through a rockfall zone. Getting a purchase on a steeply descending terrain was challenging, especially with loose pebbles conspiring under your feet. For Thorong La, it was the loose snow during the descent to Muktinath. You had to move fast to prevent the treacherous snow dragging you into the abyss. And who can forget the Cho La? Walking through narrow snow filled track, barely wide enough to place one foot at a time. A loss of footing there and you don’t want to think about the consequences. For the treks done so far, we had one such day at the most. This time it had four (most of them around 4000 m) and that too, in a single day. Moreover, it was not on the penultimate day. We would be going down into a valley to reach Dobato only to regain altitude to reach places like Yangle Kharka, Langmale, and finally, the base camp. The return journey would also need us to repeat these same passes. That made this trail unique. I had my doubts about the return journey. There was a day where we were supposed to travel from Yangle Kharka to Khongma. If going to Dobato takes a day, how can one cover the return journey which was even longer? This is normal when you gain height while going and lose while returning. But this was not a stretch which uniformly moved up. After crossing four passes, the trail would leave us at almost the same altitude where we started from. We would gain just about 100 m. The story for return journey would be the same. But locals seemed unfazed by this. We didn’t even start before 7.30. It actually turned out much worse while going up and return was no different. The planned itinerary went for a toss. In hindsight though, that saved us. However, reasons for that were different.
The first pass Khongma La (3890 m) was already familiar. We went there the day before to witness the sunrise and were presented with the first view of Mt Makalu. That familiarity gave some relief. Comparable to an easy examination where all questions are expected from a known textbook. It’s like “Oh, it’s that same set of twists & turns. Just a few mouthfuls of breaths, and there you are at the watch tower.” It didn’t quite play out that way. The trail seemed longer, now that we were hiking in daylight and the route was visible. Hence, the feeling “what remains” also started kicking in. We crossed the upper tea houses. Then, we climbed the winding set of stairs and switchbacks. It took us about 2 hours to reach there. The views were familiar but equally amazing. Skies were clear. Makalu and its neighbors were devoid of cloud cover, appearing majestic. The trail after the pass gradually descended. After a bend, I suddenly heard the sound of a notification on my cellphone. Network! At this place! Our quick fingers dialed our homes. They had a bonus of knowing our whereabouts for an extra day. The gradual decline continued and I wasn’t feeling good about acquiring this debt which we’d have to repay. The more it takes down, more have to be regained.
We could see the “repayment” going up the slopes in winding trails towards a distant top. It went towards a small dip on the contours of the mountain we were about to hike. It wasn’t clearly visible at first and only became clearer after we moved up through a few bends. Switchbacks started early on, indicating that this slope was steeper than the ascent of Khongma La. The distant mountains kept rising with us. After sometime, we saw the outline of a small stupa. That was Ghungru La (4055 m), the next pass. During our return, this same trail would turn monochrome. The bright sunshine & greenery would be hidden by dense clouds amid incessant snowfall. That’s a story to be told later. In the meantime, the switchbacks increased in frequency. Our knees and lungs bore the brunt. At least on the way down, lungs would have some respite. The slope gradually reduced in gradient and we finally reached Ghungru La. It was akin to any other pass with stupas and hanging prayer flags. The trail from Khongma to this point was well laid and safe.
There were even guardrails on some sections on the way up to Ghungru La. We took sometime at the pass for photography. This also was a chance to gulp down water, a crucial element at higher altitudes. Lack of it can allow high altitude sickness quietly sneak in to strike you unprepared. Once it strikes, the only medicine is to come down. It could jeopardize not just your plans, but your life. We saw an instance of it within our team in later days. The trail moved gradually down from the pass. Walking was easy. After losing some altitude, a beautiful lake appeared. By this time, clouds started to cover the sun. The lake was small. It had dark waters because of the reflection of the black rocky walls of the hills that formed its bowl. The water surface was mostly still with small ripples created by a gentle breeze flowing through the valley. We saw the finely laid trail lined by rocks. It went all the way down to the banks. Then it moved up again and disappeared among the hills in front.
Somewhere up there, among the V-shaped gap between two hills, lay the famous Shipton La (4200 m). The lake is called Sano Pokhari. In the Nepalese language, “Sano” means small & “Pokhari” means lake. If this is the “small lake”, there must be an elder sister sitting somewhere. She lies on the other side of Shipton La. We spent sometime at the lake. There was a prayer flag on its bank. The entire place presented no other noise or movement other than ours. The walk resumed along the other side and the trail started moving up. Though the slope was gradual, but the easy stroll turned into a hike once again. Staircases and switchbacks reappeared. I started my usual tactic. I set local milestones like “the next bend” or “the base of the next set of stairs.”, “Just a few more and you can take in a mouthful” etc. What looks like a top, becomes a base for the next, which only reveals once you reach there. As everything comes to an end, so did this and we saw the prayer flags and a few lodges.
The pass is named after the famous British mountaineer & explorer, Eric Shipton. He first came to this area in 1951. It was part of his reconnoitering expedition to the Southern routes of Mt Everest. He was also accompanied by Edmund Hillary at that time. He returned to the area in 1952 with Hillary, Charles Evans and George Lowe. They explored the Makalu base area after crossing what became known as the Shipton La. Shipton’s exploration opened up the Makalu Barun valley for mountaineering & trekking. Shipton La (locally called Tutu La) is an important geographical milestone on this route. It is the gateway to the high alpine Barun river valley. By this time, clouds held their sway. Basic dal bhaat along with khursani (green chilies) greeted us at the dining table.
It was about 1 PM, when we started our descent from Shipton La. The trail led us down to the bank of another lake, the Thulo (meaning big in Nepalese) Pokhari. On this occasion, there were two lakes. A big and a small with their water bodies connected by a small stream. The bird’s eye view of these two lakes was mesmerizing. The well led trail went all the way down to the bank. It then rose up and beyond to reach the last of the four passes, the Keke La (4170 m). All of the serpentine trail to that pass was visible.
Dobato lay beyond that, after an hour’s descent. While going down, I was thinking if it was possible to stay at Shipton La on our way back. But it’s height predicted severe cold at nights. The lodges there were rusty and promised to give a tough time. Someone high up in the mountains must have watched me and had a laugh at that time. The sights of Thulo Pokhari and our destined pass kept us going and we reached the Keke La.
Cloudy weather didn’t offer much for photography at the top. We wasted no time and started our descent to Dobato. Trees started appearing again as the trail moved towards Dobato. Dhananjoy went ahead and the rest followed him. We started imagining a satisfying stay. We envisioned a warm dining place with steaming tea. There would be plenty of recollection of the day’s trail. Relaxation was the primary feeling occupying our minds. We saw the single lodge of Dobato.
As we entered its arena, Dhananjoy (who reached earlier) declared “There is no accommodation available”. I saw our guide Raju in conversation with the lodge owner, trying to work out something, but without any success. Dobato is an important break in this trail, but the place only has a single Lodge. I’ve dreaded this possibility long before the trek and have been insisting our guide Raju to make advance booking. That didn’t happen. Ming’s assurance (the Sherpa boy at Khongma) proved futile. The lodge was full with earlier reservations for a few large groups coming from both Khongma and Yangle Kharka. It transpired much later (from another guide) that some lodges at Tashigaon have tie-ups with this lodge. Staying there can guarantee reservations up here. It seemed the lodge we were coaxed away from by the little girls at Tashigaon, had a contact here. Staying there could have ensured a stay here. We were staring at two options. Sleeping at the dining place (not guaranteed as far as blankets are concerned) or trekking further ahead for about 2.5 hours to stay at Phemathang, which has a lodge. I preferred the former since traveling another 2.5 hours seemed an uphill task. It was already 3 PM, clouds hovered around and darkness falls quickly in the valleys. We faced the possibility of having to trek in the dark, at least towards the last phase. Much against my wishes at that time (and I admit, I was wrong), it was decided to move ahead.
Once the decision was made, we wasted no time and resumed our trail. It now entered dense forests. The path started moving downwards through a seemingly endless set of rocky staircases. Since it was already cloudy, the forest trail was even more dark. The rocks were moist and some grew mosses over their surfaces. We kept going down carefully. It became clear that we were heading towards the river, probably the Barun river. We should have been excited to see it for the first time, but circumstances were very different. “Why does the trail look so desolate with no one around? Did we lose track and head the wrong way?” Asking Raju proved futile as he wasn’t aware either. The cost of taking a wrong trail in these areas at the end of the day can be fatal. Only Dhananjoy was firm. “Did we see any other way till now? Was there a junction anywhere that have led us the wrong way? Since none of these happened, keep moving.” My doubts were raised because till Dobato, we saw other trekkers, but not anymore. We should at least have seen someone coming up towards Dobato. “Everyone must have reached their destination by this time. No one is on the trail. That’s the reason.” – declared Dhananjoy. Looking at the steepness and length of the downward trail, I had another thought. There was no way we can travel from Yangle Kharka to Khongma in a single day. This was especially true with four pass crossings involved. Our own itinerary was flawed. The sounds of the Barun river increased. After a long descent from Dobato, we exited the forests and reached the banks of the Barun.
A thunderous torrent moved through the gorge creating massive rapids on its way. “Scaring but beautiful!” is how I describe it. At this time of the day, with tiring legs, fear was the more prominent feeling in my mind. To add to our problems, we now entered a huge landslide area. Large swathes of boulders lay along the sides of the hills, going all the way down to the banks. The trail was lost amid this destructive debris. We moved cautiously by tiptoeing over loosely placed boulders. We regularly glanced towards the top from where the debris stream originated. It seemed never-ending. One landslide zone led to another with a brief spell in between. We kept plodding ahead, trailing Raju’s steps. Our porters were asked to go ahead to Phemathang to make sure our stay there. I thought if one of them had stayed with us. They’re locals and have been on this route before. As daylight kept fading, we kept looking at the distance for signs of houses of Phemathang, but none were visible. It was all the roaring river, its numerous rapids and never-ending landslide zones. At times we mistook rock surfaces as roofs of houses from a distance. The landscape, the almost nonexistent daylight and our states of mind, all played hide and seek as we kept moving with tired legs. “Was that a human being? Oh yes, it’s Anil, one of our porters!” I’d be ever grateful to him for his decision to come ahead from Phemathang to guide our way. By that time we were already walking with our head torches. We had to spare one for the porters earlier. Raju managed with his cellphone. This didn’t go down well with me. A guide on a trail without even a fundamental item like a head torch! I kept quiet. Anil relieved me by taking on my day pack. We finally reached Phemathang in another 30 minutes.
The lodge was basic but who cares? It had a room, a warm kitchen & blankets. It also had charging facilities! What more one needs? Intense planning went on between us before and after dinner. Dhananjoy was of the opinion “Now that we’ve moved ahead of other groups on the trail, let’s keep that advantage”. He had a point. There were a few main groups en-route Makalu base camp. The French group is headed for Sherpani col with about 6-7 members. A Spanish group has about 18 members. They met us on the way to Tashigaon. A Slovenian group has about 5 people. There were other small groups, but these were the ones whose itinerary aligned with us. Since number of lodges are limited in this route, they’re likely to stay at same locations as ours. Hence, we’d always compete for spaces and our fate at Dobato can repeat at other places. Dhananjoy’s idea was to break that using the advantage we gained today by advancing to Phemathang. Our next stop was Yangle Kharka, hardly 2 hours from here. His proposal was to advance to Langmale instead, the penultimate stop before base camp. That should advance our itinerary by a day. It made sense. I proposed to stay at Phemathang again (instead of Yangle) on our way back. That was for two reasons. We wanted to gain on the trail covered. We also wanted to be closer to Dobato, to have a better chance at getting accommodation on our way back. At that time, we got the idea that earlier arrivals at Dobato increased chances of reservation. Both of which proved untrue as I’d reveal in later posts. We sorted this out with Raju, Anil and Manoj. It was decided that porters would go ahead of us to guarantee our stay at Langmale. We’d follow after that. With planning done, we headed to our room. For the first time after Seduwa, I got a chance to charge my camera batteries. Our room was next to the kitchen and the wall had gaps. That allowed smoke to enter our room from the kitchen. Its walls were black with soot. We had to be careful while choosing places to hang our clothes, which were scarce to find anyways. We ignored all that and were fortunate to be sleeping on a bed, under blankets. We were sleeping at 3500 m.
Break shackles 