mountains – Break shackles

The Barun valley – Phemathang

26th October

The visits to the toilet continued deep into the night. Thought it spelled troubles for me, but it caused my headache to subside. The dryness of my mouth and a slight swelling of my tongue also vanished. The porters and guides from different teams continued their gossip and drinks late into the night. During my trips to the toilet, I glanced at the sky. On some instances they were clear, on others, they weren’t. That gave me some worry. Not only can they rob the chances of a clear sunrise. Gathering of clouds at this altitude can also mean snowing. That’s something we don’t want. My headache showed signs of decline. However, sleep was disturbed. Even a tiring day of hike couldn’t make me sleep well. This is enough indication that lack of oxygen was the cause. After tossing around through the night, when I was just starting to feel comfortable, the time was up. When I ventured out, the sky was clear. The entire massif of Makalu covered the northern horizon. Looking around, the other mountains were clear enough, except that their outlines were dark. Our exposed faces bore the brunt of cold. We didn’t yet dare to take our fingers out as the solar rays were yet to appear.

After some time, our perseverance bore fruit. The first solar rays began to decorate the heights of Mt Nepo and Mt Sersong. Makalu was yet to wear the crown. Though its entire massif was clearly visible. Clouds stayed clear off the mountain peaks. As soon as the first touch of gold started its patch on the mountains, we sprang into action. We forgot the numbness of our fingers in the biting cold and shutters kept rolling. We stood at the base of a wide amphitheater, surrounded by mountain peaks on all sides. Though others were equally beautiful and gave our first glimpse of golden shower, our eyes kept turning towards Makalu. It was yet to be bathed. These acts of nature move fast and colors change by the minute. So, there was no time to waste. We could see the entire trail we took to get to this base camp. A small track of steps moved up from the valley floor. The relentless sound of the Barun river’s torrent filled the air. Cold winds dashed our face. We were in full warm wears but none of them seemed sufficient. There came a point where all of the mountains wore the crown of gold. Makalu wasn’t an exception. But the colors on the Makalu massif weren’t as glorious as they were during the previous day’s sunset. Nevertheless, we had nothing to complain as others filled that space.

*Makalu base camp*, *picture courtesy, Kunal Kishor*

After breakfast, it was time to bid adieu to the base camp. After a group photograph, we embarked on our return journey. We crossed the bridge over the Barun river and started moving up the slopes. What seemed easy while coming down, proved tough while moving up. The trail was just enough to put a pair of steps. Beyond that, the slopes moved steeply down towards the flowing Barun river. There was not an inch of soil visible on the surface. Manoj kept ahead of us, guiding through the route. Raju was behind me. I kept placing my steps in the marks created by Manoj. He judged the strength of the snow by placing his foot. The color of the snow in such foot marks gives an indication. If it appears solid white, one could assume them to be safe. But there are ones that are light blue or green. They are the ones to be avoided. More often, these are formed by fresh snow and could give in under body weight. The trail was precariously close to the edge of the slope. My entire concentration was on the foot marks. That didn’t let me soak in the surrounding beauty. Every thing was in monochrome. In fact, there was one color that dominated the entire landscape and that was white. I was waiting anxiously to reach that section of the trail which moved along the middle of the ridge with enough space on both sides. But that eluded me for long. The current stretch appeared never ending. But every ordeal has an end. So did this. Seemingly, after ages, we finally reached the ground where the trail moved along the center of the ridge. I breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time after leaving the base camp, I could focus on the surrounding landscape. By that time, the mountains bathed in silver. The entire Makalu massif was dazzling bright in the morning sun. Streams of snow and ice came down its slopes in the form of multiple glaciers and ice falls. The upper section of the massif contained rocks with a yellowish tinge. Geologists must have an explanation about the source of such rocks. They rose millions of years ago from sea bed due to the ever colliding Eurasian and Indian tectonic plates. The process that gave birth to these mountains, is still on. Mt Everest also has a band of such yellowish rocks near its summit (called the yellow band).

Walking was easy over the snow, thanks to the micro-spikes. The patches of snow kept decreasing as we progressed towards Sersong. Sersong is the interim place of stay between the base camp and Langmale. After sometime, the snow reduced to a great extent and I had to remove the micro-spikes from my boots. That’s when the roofs of the tea houses of Sersong became visible. We descended the slopes towards it and finally entered its lawn. We removed our day packs to take some rest along with steaming tea. The locals started to play some music and the Sherpa owners of the lodge started dancing to the tunes. Our porters joined them too. While sipping tea, we heard a bursting sound. Following the pointed fingers of the onlookers, we saw a huge avalanche coming down the slopes of Mt Nepo. It was so near yet so far. We weren’t quick enough to film it. By the time we trained our lenses, the avalanche had lost its steam. These are awe-inspiring to watch from distance. But the mere thoughts of falling in their way, sends chills down the spines. That reminded me of a similar experience while descending from the Larkya La.

*En-route Langmale*, *picture courtesy, Dhananjoy De*

After Sersong, the trail moved into the flat valley floor of the Barun river. It then took a turn to the left. As we moved along the trail, the Makalu massif gradually started going out of our sight. After sometime, only the tip of it was visible above the hills. The rest of the mountains kept company and we moved along the familiar tracks we crossed the day before. We crossed Merek and the same stretches of the valley. After sometime, we saw the gradual hike towards a top. We knew that Langmale lay beyond that. An easy stroll took us to the top and we could see the tea house of Langmale. The place was bathing in bright sunshine. Dhananjoy and Kunal had already reached there and were lying down in the lawn, basking themselves in the bright sunshine. It was sort of a homecoming for us. The place was familiar. So was the dining place. As lunch was getting prepared, we rested in the lawn. I opted for fried potatoes (the same dish I had on the evening we reached this place). Dhananjoy went for roasted potatoes. These were raw potatoes roasted in fire. Roasted hard and sprinkled with a touch of salt, they tasted delicious. I kept the practice of drinking large quantities of water. The owner of the tea house advised us to take a shorter route along the banks of the Barun river. This was the route we avoided on our way up to Langmale. We avoided it because there was a red cross that prohibited us from taking it. But it seemed it was safe enough and could save us time on our way down.

*Langmale, picture courtesy, Dhananjoy De*

After exiting Langmale, we started descending the rocky slopes. While moving up, it was tough on our knees and lungs, now it was the knees. The slope had some steep inclines at some places with broken rocks and boulders. One had to be careful while crossing them. We finally reached at the base of the slope and bushes reappeared. We were entering into the treeline once more. That gave us some relief. Raju latched on to a local passer-by. He was heading to Dobato. The lad convinced Raju that he could help booking our stay at the tea house there. Raju gave him some advance and was sure that our stay would be secured at Dobato. The lad moved ahead. On our way down, we met a local lady who sprained her leg while crossing a landslide zone. She asked for some medicine and we gave her a painkiller. But that was more of a consolation. Painkillers help only when the body gets rest but she had to descend to Phemathang, still a long way down. After sometime, our tracks diverged. We took the route downwards towards the Barun river. She took the upper route, which was the trail we used on our way up. The zones of landslides started. One came after another. Now that we were accustomed to them, we navigated them by following the markings left by others. Mostly these were sets of stones stacked up in the form of a small monument. The track was broken at many places, but we kept moving along the banks of the Barun river. After crossing the Shiva-Parvati rocks, we entered the forest. The track went through level grounds through the forest. We lost the Barun river for sometime only to emerge on its banks, sometime later. This was the familiar wide valley that led to Yangle Kharka. Most of the travelers would be staying here We met the Slovenian group on our way down. The lady with the sprained leg reappeared. We saw her ahead of us, walking briskly though the track strewn with boulders and rocks with a stick in her hand. Even with her sprained leg, she beat us to Yangle Kharka. The magical fading light of the setting sun created wonders on the distant hills.

The wide meadows of Yangle Kharka was bidding adieu to the day. We still had another 2.5 hours to reach our destination. After crossing the checkpoint of the Makalu Barun National park, the valley narrowed. We now walked on a fairly level trail along the Barun river, which came much closer to our trail. The light started fading away as we headed towards Phemathang. After sometime, we crossed the wooden bridge to cross over to the other bank. The rest of the walk was on level ground and we reached Phemathang. This time around, we avoided the room that was adjacent to the kitchen. So, we were spared from the smoke and soot emerging from the it. Tired legs after a long day of trekking tempts you to rest immediately. But I ignored them and changed my clothes. The challenge of finding accommodation at Dobato was still lingering in our minds. Paying advance to the local passer-by was not deemed enough. Raju came up with a plan. It was to dispatch Manoj early in the morning with packed breakfast to Dobato to try and ensure a booking. The rest of the team would follow later. News was ripe about large groups coming from Khongma as well as Yangle Kharka, both competing for space at Dobato. At that time, the plan seemed precise. This was based on an assumption that accommodation was available on a first come first serve basis. The fact that Manoj will start from Phemathang (about 2.5 hrs before Dobato) would give him an early-start advantage. That should increase the chances of acquiring a stay at Dobato. We went to sleep with hopes of getting accommodation at Dobato.

Base camp Shipton La

The Barun valley – Acclimatization

Khongma Dobato

22nd October

I was breathing heavily while taking the steps upwards. Pressure was gradually building up on my knees with increase in steepness. It was stairs all the way, going up through a series of switchbacks. The head torch showed the way amid darkness all around. We started from the lodge at 4 AM and were on our way to the viewpoint. I was sweating inside but despite that I couldn’t remove my jacket. As soon as I stopped for a few mouthful of breaths, coldness set in promptly. My hands were gloved and my head, covered. This journey in the dark reminded me of our hike to the Mardi Himal viewpoint. Just like then, I kept focus on the traveler in front. Incidentally, it was Dhananjoy again. I rested where he did. Consciously, I didn’t look up and focused on the stairs, letting the trail guide us. The distance between switchbacks kept getting shorter. Their increase in frequency indicated that the top was nearing. We saw the watch tower now. With every bend it kept rising and increasing in stature. Finally, we stepped on a flat ground where a stupa greeted us. Prayer flags hung all around it. The dawn was breaking. Darkness was gradually giving way to a soft light.

Taking hands out of the gloves proved painful but without doing that, camera operations were difficult. We had to ignore the pain as time was running out. The eastern horizon was acquiring a crimson hue. Sharp edges of rays flew around the distant mountain ranges. Mild stretches of clouds floated above the mountains. The reflected solar rays colored them with crimson and gold.

It was literally a crowning glory. To our left, beyond the hills, a mountain peak was partially visible. It’s shape resembled a distorted bowl with elevated edges and a depression at the center. It’s a very well recognized contour. There was no problem in recognizing the mountain, thanks to many photographs of it that I’ve seen before. That’s the mountain that has brought us to this corner of the Himalayas. Over the next few days, we’d reach at its base.

This was our first overland view of the fifth highest mountain in the world, Mt Makalu. Though still half concealed by the hills in front, but nevertheless, it’s “the mountain”. It is one of the illustrious neighbors of Mt Everest in the Mahalangur himal. It took some time for me to absorb the moment of looking at it physically. Before that, my interactions with this mountain was all through photographs or videos, i.e. through someone else’s lens. Now, it was an opportunity to frame it in my own lenses.

That I did in abundance. The numbness in my naked fingers became irrelevant. We’ve come across thousands of kilometers just to see this. No matter how many snaps we took, it still felt insufficient. The perpetual abode of snow appeared bright against a sky which was yet to acquire it’s full brightness. A thin slice of cloud floated above it as a roof. The golden hue gradually infected Mt Makalu and its neighbors. The edges of the bowl acquired tinges of gold but its inner walls remained in the dark. This presented a unique contrast of colors. The crimson ball popped up beyond the mountains on the eastern horizon and started it’s journey upwards. The solar rays changed colors by the minute.

In this drama, the actors stayed still, while colors of their costumes kept changing. Makalu and its neighbors dazzled as silver in the full morning glory. When we look at the photographs later, it becomes a challenge to select the ones to keep among many duplicates. Many of us posed in front of this canvas. I’m a bit skeptical about this. Though we relish the proofs of our presence in such theaters, but nevertheless, it’s nothing more than a proof. I find myself to be a mismatch in such portraits. Hence, I keep myself restricted to framing pure landscapes most of the time. The prime subjects are Makalu and its neighbors. Also featured are the glaciers that decorate its slopes and the valley with its diverse flora and fauna. With the sun fully up, the cold was tolerable.

After some more video shoots and photographs, we headed down. The route now appeared to be longer in broad daylight. The lodges of Khongma appeared tiny at start, but kept increasing in stature as we went down. The meadows bathed in bright sunshine. After breakfast we brought out the chairs and sat in the sprawling lawn. There wasn’t much to do except to enjoy gazing at the distant hills and the snow peaks beyond them. I kept dozing off. Dhananjoy brought out a mat and spread it over the ground. We quickly lay down with the sun warming our backs. The French group (who were headed to Sherpani col) also stayed at the lodge. Their porters joined us in the gossip. Dhananjoy entertained the crowd with a demonstration of his yoga skills. The porters joined him too with their own unique antics. After sometime, we were told that lunch was ready.

The routine for post lunch session wasn’t much different, except for playing cards. The angle and color of the solar rays kept us informed about the time. As afternoon wore on, the sunlight acquired a touch of gold. The distant bushes acquired the hue. We were sitting beyond the tree line. The valley below kept getting darker, while sun continued to shower its rays over the hill tops. We inquired about our stay at Dobato. Ming assured us that he had already informed the owner of the sole lodge there. We shouldn’t face any problem in getting an accommodation there. Our hike for the next day was supposed to be longest with four passes to cross. Our route lay along the same trail traveled today and went beyond the watch tower.

A sudden look at my phone revealed a feeble network. We called our homes. We informed them that this was probably the last time they would hear from us for the next few days. We didn’t expect to talk again till we reached here on our way back. Diwali was just a few days back and festivities continued with the locals. They have unique festivities in Nepal around this time. At Seduwa, we saw a few kids wearing masks and shouting like crows. They came door to door and people gave them money or gifts. Apparently, that was a day to worship crows. The next morning, on our way to Tashigaon, we saw garlanded dogs. It was their turn of respect. Today, we learned that porters and guides from different teams would assemble in the evening and dance. They’d visit all the lodges in the area to repeat the same. Darkness fell as soon as the sun went down below the hills. We could still see the distant mountain peaks shine in the fading sun, but darkness reigned supreme around us. Card pay resumed at the dining table. The guide from the French group was a Sherpa mountaineer. He had climbed Mt Everest. That made him the second person on this trail who had the honor. Their plan was to travel beyond Makalu base camp to higher regions. They carried tents and other allied equipment and ration. Beyond the base camp, there are no lodges. They’d need to setup successive camps for a few days at ever increasing altitudes. The highest crossing point Sherpani col pass lay at 6155 m. After crossing over, one would reach at the Solu-Khumbu district in the Chukhung region. The rest of the route lay through the villages of Pangboche, Namche Bazar and finally terminated at Luk La. This route requires climbing skills and hence, the group carried the necessary equipment with them. This route traverses through one of the most remote regions of Nepal.

The festivities started after dinner. The locals started dancing to the musical tunes playing from their mobile phones. They danced in circles around the center. A few bottles of beer were placed there. There were also nuts, sweets, chocolates, and a few currency notes. The guests at the hotel donated money and so did we. They kept singing with a phrase “Deusi Re”. It is a phrase used in songs sung during Tihar festival in Nepal. It is also celebrated in parts of India like Sikkim, Darjeeling and Assam. During this festival, groups of boys or young men visit neighboring homes in their community. They sing and dance. They exchange blessings in return for food and money. The group left our lodge to visit the neighboring tea houses. The process would continue late into the night. After they moved out, we went under our blankets. Thus ended a wonderful day of leisure and rest in a remote Himalayan village. The terms “leisure” and “rest” would vanish from our lives for the next few days, rather unexpectedly. I imagined myself sleeping at Dobato in the next night. The cold increased and for the first time on this trek, I had to use warm inner wears.

Khongma Dobato

The solitude of Khopra ridge – from the ridge to the valley floor

Khopra. Ghodepani

30th April, 2025

Sleep eluded me for initial part of the previous night and I kept tossing around. I wasn’t sure of the reason, but it wasn’t due to cold as the bed and blanket (along with the warm wears) kept me comfortable. It was these aspects that always made me thank the infrastructure that is available in Nepal. Nevertheless, I had a comfortable sleep during the latter part. Hopes went high in the previous evening. The guide promised to check on the clouds and wake me up if they stayed clear off the mountains. For my part, I set an alarm anyways and when it went off, I left the comfort of the bed. It was 5 AM. A quick glance out of the sole window of the room revealed a dark silhouette of the moiuntains against a feeble background of emerging sunlight. Their tops were devoid of any cloud and there was no mist or fog. Finally, nature did choose to reward our perseverance of hiking up to the ridge amidst clouds! I still had about an hour at my disposal before the first sun rays of the morning started acting out the drama of color shades on the mountains’ canvas. I chose to utilize this to prepare myself for the day’s travel and packed my things into the bag carried by Yugal. I then hung the camera around my neck and ventured out to the open space behind the tea house. Some people already stationed themselves at the helipad, which was at an elevated place, near the lodge, some others made their start towards Khayar lake. I chose the helipad (as there wasn’t enough time left for Khayar lake). I had to hurry as this is the time of the day when the intensity and color of the solar rays change drastically and every minute counts. After reaching the helipad, I turned a glance towards the distant Dhaulagiri range and there it was, the first rays of sun started gracing their tops. The dark silhouette started acquiring golden borders along the sharp edges. The Annapurna ranges still lay in darkness while the sky lit up behind them, indicating the sun would emerge from behind them.

Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda, early sun rays — *Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda*

The cold was biting and I couldn’t move my fingers freely. I had to expose them bare off and on to handle my camera, which proved tough, but I didn’t care. Everytime I panned the lens across the vista, the colors seemed to change and that resulted in many snaps for the same subject. It’s normall to err on the side of caution as there’s always the option to retain the prefered set after examining their quality at leisure. A quick glance to the left revealed that the valley below was still covered with thick dense clouds. For someone down in the valley, it’d be difficult to imagine the vista at display up here at the ridge.

Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda, solar rays spread — *Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda*

I kept thanking my luck and nature’s kindness to have displayed its grandeur. Who would have thought about this, under the conditions that prevailed the afternoon before? The decision to hike yesterday, has paid off. Even if clouds engulf the views with the progress of the day, I’d have nothing to complain. These are the views for which one can hike for hours! Himalayan vultures kept flying around, a few crows kept screaming amidst this otherwise silent backdrop, which kept changing the canvas.

We’ve seen the Annapurna ranges from multiple angles, but it was the Dhaulagiri massif, which inspired the awe! Such a huge and imposing architecture. Mt Dhaulagiri (8167 m) is the highest mountain that is fully within the territories of Nepal. It is the seventh highest mountain in the world, just behind Mt Cho Oyu (which sits on the Nepal-Tibet border) in the race for height. The other big-wigs (e.g. the likes of Mt Everest, Mt Lhotse or Mt Kanchenjunga) are shared either with Tibet or India.

Our tea house, along with its associated supplementary structures, lay sprawling amidst the ridge, which expaned into a somewhat flat area. A deep valley lay beyond it and at the edge of it, hills rose above the horizon, gradually merging into the snow line of the Dhaulagiri range that ran from Gurja Himal in the west to Mt Tukuche in the east, now all bathing in the morning sun.

The main and supplementary structure of the lodge appeared like matchboxes amidst this huge amphitheatre. Everything, including us, seemed belittled amongst the wide panorama of nature. The mountains and the sun were the major actors in this play and we were mute spectators. The only act we could take up was to train our lenses and roll the shutters on. As morning wore on, the brightness and intensity of the solar rays increased and the mountain peaks dazzled in their silver crowns.

Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda, silver crown — *Mt Dhaulagiri, Khopra danda*

Sharp rays of sun emanated amidst the ridges around the Annapurna range, which still lay in the dark and going by the indications, would remain so.

By this time, Yugal made his appearance. He came to knock at my door, only to find it locked and hence, he concluded that I was already awake and out in the open. As the sun came up from behind the Annapurna range, the rays fully illuminated the mountains. We made our way down the slopes towrds the tea house. Breakfast got served with hot tea and after paying our dues, I and Yugal, started our journey down the slopes we hiked up yesterday. The valley too, was now cleared up and we could see deep down into it, even the distant homes along the slopes of the hills. Pointing at a red roof top, almost at the valley floor, Yugal mentioned that was Swanta, our destination for the day.

Mt Annapurna South, khopra danda, down the slopes — *Mt Annapurna South, khopra danda*

We gradually moved along the flat trail to reach the place marked by Chortens (Tibetan flags) and then started our descent along the same switchbacks we traversed on our way up, the afternoon before. By this time, the Annapurna ranges too, were illuminated. As we lost altitude, the ridge walls rose above us and mountains went away from our views. The same tract, that appeared gloomy on our way up, now was shining bright with flowers and colors at display in the bright norning sun. Birds too, were more chirpy than they were the day before.

On the way down from Khopra danda — *On the way down from Khopra* danda

On our way down, we covered the same slopes much faster and with clear visibility, it felt all the more safe. The feeling of loneliness which accompanied me on the way up, was now absent. After a few more switchbacks, we could see the roofs of the tea houses at Chishtibung. They kept increasing in magnitude as we went further down the slopes. We met the Swiss group, on their way up to Khopra danda. They stopped at Chishtibung yesterday. It took one and half hours for us to be at the dining space of the lodge at Chishtibung once again. We reunited with Ranjan da and Ramesh. They were excited to know about our luck at the morning. The sun was still shining bright. As the luggage was being merged and re-sorted, we suddenly saw a rodent, which though appeared like a rat in its color and appearance, but resembled a rabbit in terms of its physical structure. It moved swiftly along the cracks and gullies of the tracks, tipping along at the small plants that came its way. As we tried to move a bit closer for a better snap, it hid away, only to reappear to resume its activities. After some trade off, we settled at a distance that gave us descent snaps of the animal.

After a small halt at Chishtibung, we resumed our descent from that tri-junction where the trail from Bailey kharka joined from the left. We now moved along the other one heading down towards Swanta. The trail now entered the tree line and once again we found ourselves amidst the dense forests. Given the cold during the morning at the heights of Khopra danda, I had my jacket on till Chishtibung, which I now transferred into my back pack. Though it increased its load, but walking was much lighter. At this time of the day, clouds started hovering again. Nature’s window of liberalism started to down its shutters. Yugal informed us that we’d have lunch at Bhainsi kharka one our way down. We kept descending through the woods and after about another couple of hours, we came across a solitary tea house amidst the surrounding forests. It had an open space around the dining room with chairs and tables. Terraced fields surrounded the main area of the lodge where cultivations were being carried out. I asked the owner of the lodge about the name of the place. It was “Al kharka”. Initially, I thought of moving further down, but then I thought of asking him again whether Bhainsi kharka was further down. According to him, there was no Bhainsi kharka along the route. That put me in a dilemma. Since there was only one trail coming down the slopes, there wasn’t any question of veering away, but the information from the lodge owner was contrary to that of Yugal. So, I prefered to wait for them to catchup. The place was quiet and tranquil. The greenery around was soothing to the eyes.

I kept my trekking gear on the table and sat to soak in the surroundings. Sound of a flowing stream kept murmuring, birds kept chriping in the woods, clouds acquired a darker shade, a cool breeze brushed my face. I casted regular glances at the higher slopes to look out for the rest of the group. They finally appeared on the slopes, made their way down to join me at the lodge. This was indeed, the slated place for our lunch. Yugal got the name wrong. We ordered sandwiches and french fries along with ginger lemon tea, while Yugal and Ramesh opted for standard “dal-bhat” meals. While we finished our lunch, their lunches were still being prepared and after waiting a while, they suggested us to move ahead and they would catch up along the way.

After the lodge, we moved down the slopes till we reached at a small hydo-electric power generation center where a gushing stream moved a few turbines which generated some electric power. After crossing the stream, the trail moved up for a few distance and then became adulating. We were once again amidst dense forests. The trunks of the large trees (many of them were Rhododendrons) were covered by green mosses. I also saw bushes of thin bamboo plants. We saw something similar at the place called “Bamboo” on the Annapurna base camp trail. Lush green vegetation looked freshly bathed in the rains falling for the last few days.

En-route Swanta, vegetation — *En-route Swanta*

En-route Swanta, small flowers — *En-route Swanta*

Small flowers dotted the bushes that lined the trail. Rhodododendrons too, re-appeared in their dark pink shades. This was to our surprise as we thought their blooms were over at these lower altitudes.

En-route Swanta, Rhododendrons — *En-route Swanta*

With the slopes either adulating or moving down, my speed increased and I kept going down fast, at times, almost running. But, after a while, I thought to wait for Ranjan da as the woods were deep and there could be chances of veering away, especially, there were still no signs of our guide and porter. I waited at a bend where two distinct paths diverged. Though I had a sense of taking one of them, but thought of waiting at least for Ranjan da. After waiting for a considerable time, he apeeared around the bend. We chatted for a while, gulped down a few sips of water and contemplated waiting for our guide and porter. However, we both thought that the choice was clear enough and kept moving ahead. After sometime, we saw a suspension bridge deep down in the valley and a few houses dotted the hill slopes on the other side. That made us think, we somehow had to reach the bridge as we were confident that that homes on the other side, belonged to Swanta. However, despite looking around, we couldn’t find a way down towards the bridge. We thought it better to wait for Yugal and Ramesh. It seemed ages before we finally heard their sounds and they appeared around the corner. Their lunches were served much later than we thought, but they came down swiftly to catch up with us. They assured us that we were still on the right path and Swanta was not on the other side (as we thought), but round the corner of the hill that we were travelling down. After sometime, fences started to appear, bellows of buffaloes were heard and a wide valley opened up with terraced fields.

A few houses made their appearance and more appeared nestled between the fields, as we moved into the valley. We could also spot a monastery. This was the place we looked down upon from the Khopra ridge, in the morning. I tried looking upwards to see if Khopra ridge was visible, but in vain. Our path went through the fields and reached the gates of Hotel Candle Inn, our place of stay for the night. The lodge was charming. We reclined to the open space outside its dining room where some chairs and tables were placed. We had our tea served there but clouds started looking ominous and it started drizzling. Our rooms were at the first floor with balconies opening into the wide valley. Sights of terraced fields greeted us and almost immediately, hails started pounding the roofs. We were just in time to reach our destination. For the first time in the trail, we had chicken and egg curries at dinner, which we enjoyed immensely. After drying our clothes and shoes at the fire place, we reclined to our room and slid under the blankets. Rain and hail storm was still on. We were sleeping at 2270 m.

Khopra. Ghodepani