Tag: mountains

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I wondered whether I should wrap up the descent in a single episode, given that all excitement of getting to the close quarters of Kahgchenjunga and its colleagues was now over. But that wouldn’t have been fair for multiple reasons. One obviously being the natural display along the descent, which was quite different than while going up. I also wanted to share my experience of staying at the Singhi Namjong hotel at Gyabla, its hospitality and a sense of cosiness in these remote corners of the world. I also had the fortune of learning about how mountaineering expeditions are conducted and its operational challenges. For my case, the surprises weren’t over till the last day of my departure. My plans for the return journey went for a toss. That’s a story of its own.

22nd April, 2026

It was time to bid goodbye to Khambachhen. Our plan was to descend to Ghunsa as quickly as possible. From there, it’d take about 1 hr 45 mins to reach Phale. We’d have lunch there. Another 2 hours of descent should take us to Gyabla. The descent from Khambachhen to Ghunsa shouldn’t take more than 3.5 hours. While we were a bit sad to leave Khambachhen, but there was some joy and relief too, at the prospects of reaching under tree line and more importantly, reaching Gyabla. Staying at our favorite hotel Singhi Namjong was exciting. Because of the comfort, added with the feeling of having completed our mission, it was expected to be an enjoyable stay at Gyabla. The reason we were a bit sad to leave Khambachhen was the cordial behavior of the hosts. We had most of our conversations with Didi (Nupu’s wife). On our way up, we asked why they didn’t have bread toasts on their breakfast menu, while it was available at Ghunsa (a lodge owned by Nupu’s brother). She jokingly replied that her sister in law didn’t share the recipe with her! When we asked the reason, she was prompt in her reply, “jealousy!”. Everyone at the dining space burst into laughter, including her father in law. We’d miss that warmth. The mountains blessed us with the sunrise views once again. We started off at 6.30 after breakfast, bidding goodbye to Nupu and Didi. After crossing the lawn, we crossed over the flowing streams over a small wooden bridge. To our left, yaks were grazing. Though vegetation is scarce in Khambachhen, patches of fresh green grass are there, beside the flowing streams. The yaks dipped their mouths in them and devoured the grass. A baby yak followed its mother wherever she went.

We started moving up a gradual incline to move out of the valley. After reaching the sign board which welcomes people to Khambachhen, I turned around to have a final look at the lodges. Staying more than one night at a place is rare on treks. It only happens at the place where one goes through acclimatization. We spent 3 nights here. Hence it stayed on my mind a bit more than others. I also turned around towards the north. The trail towards Lhonak and further on to Pangpema appeared like a string lying along the left slopes of the Ghunsa river. On turning right, an easy stroll followed by a minor hike led us to the start of the suspension bridge. Mt Jannu dominated the skies on the left. The winding trail to its base camp was also visible. It revived the memories of our journey to its interiors. As we started crossing the Ghunsa, the morning breeze swept our faces. After reaching the other side, we turned right from the sign-board showing directions to two diverging paths. One going left towards the "Phaktanglung base camp" of Mt Jannu and the other we just came along. The trail on the right moved upwards in its winding ways. When I turned back, the lodges of Khambachhen were already out of sight. I had my windcheater on. We slowly climbed the staircases. The slope was gradual and then, as anticipated, the trail reached a broken end and the landslide area started. On our way up, this caused nervousness, but now it seemed manageable. I navigated carefully through the narrow track of pebbles and dust. On the further end, I could see the trail reaching a bend, which had an iron pole. Beyond that, the normal trail would resume. Some careful steps led us to that point. We stood there and cast a look back at the landslide. I stopped for sometime to take off my windcheater as the sun was fully up and was weighing down on our bodies. We took the opportunity to gulp down some sips of water and pop lozenges into our mouths. The staircases resumed. As the slopes were gentle, the length of the stairs were long. Unlike while going up, breathing was easier as we kept losing height, moving into areas with increasing oxygen levels. We could now see the woods in the lower areas. Somewhere down the line, there's Labuk, beyond which, the trail becomes more or less gradual. The poles reappeared with prayer flags. Then came the sign-board for the viewpoint where we saw Mt Jannu for the first time (on our way up) - the Phaktanglung view point. We bade goodbye to the mountain. The vast expanse of boulders was gradually coming to an end as trees started reappearing. Their heights were smaller but the canopy started to form above our heads. After sometime, we reached the place of worship, Hajare. We passed by the birch trees. Their skins hung around, which exposed the interiors of their barks. The Ghunsa kept flowing in leaps and bounds beside the trail. The day was still bright and the vegetation was shining. After Hazare, the density of the forests increased. It was refreshing to move under the tree line. The landscape in the Himalayas are distinct in lower and upper regions. They almost seem like two different climes. The dense greenery, flowing torrents and flowers in the lower regions transform into monochrome ruggedness of boulders, snow and glacial moraines in the upper regions. While the close ups of awe inspiring mountains, their ice falls and the glaciers overwhelm us, but the eyes get their relaxation once greenery appears. That's what was happening with us on our way down. After sometime, we came out in the opening of Labuk. Labuk lay almost at the border between the lower and upper landscapes of the trail. One could roughly say, it marked the transition between sub-alpine and alpine zones of the Himalayas in this region. The trail now moved gradually along the banks of the Ghunsa. One or two rhododendron trees started appearing.

We missed these flowers in upper valleys. It was pleasant to see them reappear. Their densities kept increasing. The buds which we saw on our way up, we're now in full bloom. The color shades in the flowers in this area ranged from light pink, pink with colored spots to dark pink. The latter variety were much less when compared to the other two. Suddenly, I found myself walking through an area where small yellow flowers dotted the floors. These were small shrubs with dense light green foliage with yellow flowers. With these bright display of flowers, the entire place basked with brightness. We crossed the lonely huts of Chermalung and Tartang to reach the dry bed of the Thango river.

After regaining the trail on the other side of the riverbed, we walked for sometime and then could see the lodges of Ghunsa from a distance. The village wore a bright look. Prayer flags decorated every top. We saw these on our way up too, but their numbers have increased and so did their brightness. It turned out that these decorations have been done on the occassion of some Tibetan festival. Dilal had to complete some formalities at the conservation area office. Just as they record entries on the way up, they tally again on the way down to ensure nobody is missing. We've seen such checks in Annapurna and Manaslu circuit trails. We took some time for photographs in the backdrop of the village houses and then followed the trail. Dilal would join us en-route after completing the formalities. Limbu dropped down to slippers and half sleeves. After crossing the river, we continued our walk towards Phale. Trees became taller and more rhododendrons started appearing. Along with the lighter shades, the scarlet and deep red varieties increased.

The lodges of Ghunsa faded away as we moved along. We came to the junction where another sign-board declared an arrow towards Nango La. That's the route towards Olangchung Gola. Carole was to take that route on her way towards that valley and potentially onwards to the Makalu region. We came across a resting place. Cool breeze caressed our faces as we gulped down sips of water. After some rest, we resumed our walk towards Phale. The trail was broken at some places where they bridged the gaps with logs. One could gauge the fury of nature by these scars left by past monsoons. Small ups and downs, a few staircases and a gradual trail led us to the open valley of Phale. We went through the familiar network of streams and rhododendron bushes to reach the tea houses.

We spread our legs and sat in the dining space of one of these, while our dal bhat lunches got prepared. We devoured our lunch as hunger was at its peak and the preparation was good. After lunch, we resumed our walk through the meadows of Phale. By now, the sky got cloudy. That reduced the heat but the darkness of the clouds raised some concerns of rain. So far, we've been able to avoid it. Gyabla was still about 2 hours away. The wide meadows of Phale spread out on both sides. A light breeze swept through the meadows. The valley narrowed towards the end where the trail entered the forests and we reached the gate.

Beyond the gate, the trail descended sharply through rocky and winding staircases. It put some stress on our knees but we lost altitude very fast. After multiple switchbacks we came down to a trail running on elevated banks of the Ghunsa. We were walking along an open ridge. The Ghunsa flowed down to the lower valleys in leaps and bounds. By this time the clouds dominated the skies. A felt a few drops on my body. On asking, Dilal assured that it wasn't likely to rain. We continued our walk and reached a tea house on the banks of the Ghunsa.

I remembered this tea house because of its location amidst rhododendron trees with full bloom. We stopped for a few minutes to rest our backs. But the increasing darkness of the clouds prompted us to resume quickly. We now walked right beside the Ghunsa. They've tried to tame the landslides by caging the rocks using barbed iron wires. It is a technique used in the mountains to avoid having to use concrete. Concrete prevents growing of vegetation but increases weight which often gives away during inevitable landslides. Caging rocks in this way tries to keep them together but still allows vegetation to grow over time which solidifies the ground. The number of drops increased and finally, even Dilal advised to put on our rain covers. The drizzle increased and darkness set on. Very soon it converted to incessant rains. Despite rain covers, I got drenched. Seeing through the spectacles proved challenging. We made our way through the forests and reached the base of the final hike towards Gyabla. Streams of rainwater flowed down the rocky staircases. The rains lashed at us while we made our way up the staircases. After reaching the top, level ground awaited us. We walked briskly through the bushes till we could see the roofs of Gyabla tea houses. Above all, stood the double storeyed premises of the Singhi Namjong hotel. We reached there at 16.30.

The Singhi Namjong

We entered the premises of the Singhi Namjong hotel (we can't call it just a tea house) through its ground floor entrance. After hanging up our rain soaked clothes, we entered the room alloted to us. It was on the 1st floor, a three bedded room with an almirah at one of its corners. Reaching the premises of this hotel gave us a feeling of home coming. Gyabla didn't have WiFi, but had everything else. A large dining space that could swallow three other dining spaces of usual dimensions. A kitchen of a similar scale. Its rooms can accommodate at least 6 people with decent living space for each, but they're alloted just for two. Add to it, a huge lawn adjoined the premises with enough wires to dry up your clothes. Beyond the lawn, went up the slopes towards the monastery of upper Gyabla. On clear days, one could either take a small hike to the upper village or just relax in the lawn looking at the distant hills beyond the valley. Our bodies were tired. We were eager to reach the dining space to start our evening session of beer. But why not have a hot shower before it. The presence of good and large bathrooms prompted that decision. Dhananjoy has had showers at different places (not hot though) before, but I couldn't muster the courage. But hot shower was a different thing altogether. They gave a bucket full of hot water to each of us and we enjoyed our baths to the fullest. Sitting on our beds after the showers made all the accumulated stress go away. Though our muscles still retained some of the fatigue, but it was fulfulling. By this time, the rains ceased and the sky became clearer. The fading sunlight painted the surroundings with a shade of yellow that tells that the sun was about to call it a day.

We occupied a corner at the dining space. Beer got served. A lady served a bowl of popcorns. Looking at her, we were amazed, it was Sonam! We looked for her immediately after reaching the hotel, but she was alseep. But now she was back in the kitchen, performing her regular duties to serve the boarders. A wrap of scarf around her head didn't allow us to recognize her initially, but the smile was unmistakable. Sonam came from a Sherpa family. Her father was a climbing sirdar (the leading sherpa of a mountaineering expedition) for many years and has been to all the major mountains of the world, being part of summit parties to many of them. Years of experience prompted him to start a business of conducting professional expeditions to the Nepal Himalayas. Being a sherpa, I asked him the same question I asked Nupu, which was, whether he hailed from the Solu Khumbu region. His reply was a No. Moreover, he corrected my understanding that while most of the sherpas belong to that region, but not all. At least not all who are mountaineers. Over successive years, many developments have reached that region with schools and hospitals (a large part of it is due to the untiring efforts of Sir Edmond Hillary and his Himalayan trust). With development coming in, many sherpas have moved out of the region to other parts of Nepal or even the world. Many of them don't consider taking up the job of a porter or guide in an expedition (which comes with its disproportionate share of risks) like their previous generations. His organization is still actively involved in conducting expeditions. The majority of them go to Mt Everest, but others fare as well. Time kept moving along, and then it was time for our dinner. We were served with delicious yak curries along with chapatis. This time we didn't have to instruct for "churum churum". We were back sleeping at the height of 2730 m.

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Drohmo Ri, 21st April, 2026

Based on experiences of Dhananjoy Dey and Dilal

The alarm went off which set the tent abuzz with activities. Considering the settings, sleep wasn’t that bad. The tent was reasonably comfortable under the conditions. The people of Nepal work so hard to make such things happen. Such arrangements are unheard of in other parts of the Himalayas. It didn’t take long for Dhananjoy And Dilal to get ready. Minimal stuff was to be carried (a bottle of water, the required warm wears and of course, the head lamp). As they ventured out of the tent, the sky was pitch dark, but studded with stars. Despite multiple layers of warm wear, the cold was biting. Members from other groupss also started coming out. Though few people were around (most of them went back to Lhonak on the previous afternoon and others were to reach much later in the morning), the place was alight with head lamps. Beams of torches moved around. Dhananjoy and Dilal cast a quick glance to the surrounding mountains. Their dark silhouettes were clearly visible. Beyond which, innumerable stars dotted the sky. They started moving towards the slopes behind the tea houses. Despite being from different groups, they kept together like a flock. At this stage, memberships don’t matter and everyone relies upon each other. It’s not a normal trail, even by the mountain standards. Drohmo Ri reaches almost to a height of 6000 m and there’s no proper trail, except for some traces left by earlier travelers. These signs (via cairns) get dismantled often because of falling rocks.. TTracks change on a seasonal (if not daily/weekly) basis. Starting at the wee hours reminded Dhananjoy of the Kalapathhar and the Roopkund hikes. On both occassions, height was lesser and there was an established trail. Fortunately, one of the guides from another group had been to Drohmo Ri on multiple occassions. He led the group. Soon after the tea houses, the trail started moving up and the incline changed drastically. Walking poles became necessary to have some grip. As they moved up, pebbles started coming into play and steps had to be careful. The air was already thin at the base camp and would get thinner with every inch gained. Travelers moved close to each other (maintaining just enough space to avoid tumbling upon the person lower down the order, in case of a slide) to keep company and help others, if needed. Sounds of breaths became louder with increasing altitude. The ground wasn’t just unstable, but was covered with frost. With gain of height, steepness increased. So did the size of the stones and their snow cover. One couldn’t call it frost anymore. After a hike of about 40 minutes, the sky started acquiring a brighter shade. They stopped and looklooked back. The Kangchenjunga and its colleagues also rose in height, but theyy apppearared neanearerr. At the base camp, they were awestruck visitors, but now the mountains seemed to extend their hands towards them. Early rays of sun started to remove the darkness from the Kangchenjunga massif. The twin summits of Kangchenjunga and its neighbor Yalung Kang, started to emerge out of darkness. The entire flow of the glacier from Kangchenjunga’s slopes started to reveal itself.

Small puffs of snow blew from the summits. The daylight wasn’t strong yyett to wipe off the stars from the canvas. The ground below will still dark. Mouths ran dry frequently and they had to take frequent sips from theirir bottles. The sun (still invisible) kept changing its angles and its rays started spreading in the valley. When they turned looklooked towards Lhonak, they could see the faint outline of the stream of ice of the Kangchenjunga glacier. Its uneven bed of rocks had greater shades of white as compared to its lower reaches at Lhonak. Its huge expanse was still hidden in darkness but the solar rays gradually started invading. Prior experience in the Himalayas told Dhananjoy that the drama of colors was about to unfold. The stage was set. But they couldn’t afford to stop as Drohmo Ri was still further ahead. The entire ascent and descent required at least 6 hours. By that scale, they still had 2 hours to reach the destination. Ideally, the target was to reach there just when the sun was about to rise. But the height, terrain and the cold was deterring. The size of the boulders increased. More often, they had to use their hands to get over them. After sometime, they had to do away with the walking poles as they needed the support of their limbs as well as hands to negotiate the terrain. The crust of snow over the rocks weren’t a factor yet but that would change soon with the rising sun. That was another reason for stoppingping, despite the appealing views. One would like to cover as much ground as possible to give a chance to reach the top. All said and done, there needs to be a hard turnaround time based on the calculated risk. Multiple factors went into that algorithm – the remaining distance, the incline of the slopes, the cover of ice on their surface and above all, the position of the sun. The last factor decides the risk of descent. As they say, ascent is only half of the story. The trick is to come back down safe. But they left all that to the experienced guide who’ve been there before. Despite the rush, they couldn’t ignore the canvas behind their backs where scenes were changing fast.

LookLooking back, they saw the entire valley was out of darkness. The full course of the Kangchenjunga glacier was now visible right from its inception from the slopes of the massif, all the way down where it followed a curved track to meet the main stream of ice. It was all monochrome. But that was about to change soon. The summit of Yalung Kang was the first to receive the touch of gold. It then started spreading to the neighbors. The main Kangchenjunga summit acquired a golden outline, but the color of flying plumes of snow from behind its summit indicated that it received its share of golden shower on that side which wasn’t visible from Pangpema.

They kept plodding ahead, but it started setting on them that it was going to be a tough ask. Time wasn't the problem, terrain was. Even if one was fit enough to overcome the effects of altitude, but they kept thinking about the descent. The snow now covered almost the entire trail. It gave an uneasy levelness,, hiding the gaps bebetweenween the loosely stacked rocks. They'd have to descend over the same surface during a period, when the solar rays would ststart mert meltingting the snnow on w on the rockhe rocks, making them, making them. The crust of snow covering the surface would melt, making themhem ripe for slides. The incline made it more dangerous to arrest such slides during descent.

By now the sun was at its full display. The colors on the mountain slopes changed to dazzling silver. It had been 3 hours since they started. At about 7 AM, theyhey decided too tuturnn ararouundd as as the riskisk wasn''t worth taking taking. Dhananjoy usually doesn't budge so easily, but when it came from the mouth of the local expert, he had to heed. Though the actual top of Drohmo Ri remained beyond limits, but nature was generous enough to fill their laps with ample display of it's beauty. Just as they were about to descendd, Dhananjoy's gaze got fixed at a growing cloud of white coming down the slopes of Mt Kangchenjunga. An avalanche! It wasn't big, going by the standards at Kangchenjunga, but the mountain was kind enough to reveal itself in its all forms. Despite having to turn around, there was no reason to complain.

The descent was challenging enough because of its slope, uneavenness and the cover of snow. There were a few slides on their way down, but fortunately, arrested within limits. Apart from the wetness caused by the ice, there wasn't any other cause of concern. The incline eased with descent and with careful steps they made it down to the base camp by 8 AM. They reached the limits that were permissible under the circumstances.

After breakfast, it was time to bid goodbye to the Pangpema base camp. For one last time, Dhananjoy cast a glance at the Kangchenjunga massif as it was about to disappear from sight. They turned their attention and headed towards Lhonak.

Lhonak, 21st April, 2026

I had better sleep on the previous night. Some of it may have had to do with getting adjusted to the altitude, but the rest of it was about the prospect of having a full day's rest at Lhonak. There was no hurry to get up early as there was nowhere to go (or so I thought). The alarm went off, but I kept lying on my bed, enjoying the warmth of the blanket. But after sometime, looking at the sunlight through my window, I felt it was criminal to lie down while the sun played the painter on the mountain tops. I came out to the lawn and quite expectedly, the colors started unfolding on the canvas.

As the day before, there was frost on the ground, but the lawn was bathing in sunshine. I had my breakfast and chose to lie down on the benches spread out in the lawn. Carole was out there too. She would be leaving for Khambachhen in the morning. She had been interviewing people at different locations on this route about the changing climate and its effect on their lives. She had interviewed Nupu's brother at Ghunsa. She was now planning to interview the current lodge owner and had plans to interview Nupu at Khambachhen. The owner, who was roaming around in the lawn, holding the little hands of his small kid, trying to make him learn to walk. The kid would creep on the frost, try to rise up taking support of the chairs, walk on his feet for some steps, tumble down, only to rise up again to repeat the same cycle. It was a treat to watch while his father kept vigil.

Carole asked me to record her interview. I had to walk up to the edge of the glacier, where she had the conversation in its backdrop. She wanted to show the big lake. According to the owner, that lake had multiplied in size over the years at an alarming rate. It was supposedly at a risk of bursting and if that happens, it would wash out places all the way till Taplejung! During construction of lodges or repairs, they have seen layers of permafrost beneath the ground. It shows signs of cracking. Which means that the ground on which the tea houses stood, could also be slipping away, literally, moving under their feet! The officials of the Kangchenjunga conservation area visit their site regularly to collect taxes (for being allowed to run lodges on the land owned by the  Conservation office), but such funds are not being used for sustenance of the environment. Carole did a heart wrenching commentry, while I assisted with the video. She was pleased with my effort and we hoped that the video, when circulated, would raise the right ripples. After sometime, Carole strapped up her backpack and headed for Khambachhen. I spent the rest of the morning, lying down on the armchair, enjoying the sun. Time passed lazily. I didn't expect Dhananjoy and Dilal to return before 14.00, or possibly later. To my surprise, they turned up at 11.30 and immediately declared about a change of plan. "With the entire afternoon at our disposal, what's the point of staying at Lhonak? Let's get down to Khambachhen instead and enjoy our stay there!" I had no problem since I had a full day of rest since my return yesterday. It was a welcome suggestion, but I asked for confirmation of his health, to which Dhananjoy replied affirmatively. After rising at 4 AM, completing a hike for about 4 hours, then another trail down to Lhonak for another 2.5 hours, he was still ready to venture further down for 2.5 hours! I packed my bag and after lunch, we hit the trail. Clouds covered the mountains by that time. Under overcast conditions, we walked down to the bridge over the Lhonak river and started hiking through the landslide area. Winds were blowing, we crossed the area, casting regular glances towards the upper slopes. At the familiar bend where we saw the Kangchenjunga glacier for the first time on our way up, we turned around. We walked through the plateau of Ramdang and started descending the landslide area. Familiarity to the trail and prospect of reaching Khambachhen removed my anxiety and I descended carefully but steadily to reach the banks of the roaring Ghunsa. The narrow line of steps along its banks didn't seem scary (just that we had to keep looking up the slopes at regular intervals). After crossing the warning sign-board, we started hiking up towards Khambachhen. It started drizzling and we had to put on our rain covers. Just as we covered our bodies, the drizzle stopped. As we neared Khambachhen, we saw yaks grazing along the mountain slopes. Some were up on the slopes, some down, while others roamed freely on the trail itself, munching the leaves. As I neared, they were courteous enough to make way for me by either moving up or down the slopes.

We kept walking along the trail and reached the familiar bend towards Khambachhen. The sight of the tea houses, the flowing stream and the trail on the other side were all familiar and gave a sense of security and relaxation. Nupu alloted the room to the right of the one he gave us on our way up. After changing, we went to the dining room. Meeting the French group was pleasing. Suddenly, someone attracted our attention towards the lawn. The clouds started clearing and amidst their dark background, the fading sunlight fell on the summits of Mt Jannu, Mt Khabur, Mt Phole Sobithonje. The golden summits floated amidst the dense and dark clouds.

The window of colors lasted for just a few minutes and then the entire area was covered with mist. We went inside the dining space and enjoyed the rest of the evening. Since it was on our way down, beer was permissible. Dilal didn't complain, probably because he was made a party to it. Didi (Nupu's wife) obliged us with a bowl of complementary popcorn. After a dinner with pizza, we slid under the blankets. Our plans for the next day was to skip Ghunsa and get down to Gyabla. The prospects of staying at the comfortable Singhi Namjong hotel once again, made us excited.

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20th April, 2026

I didn’t sleep well. For the first time on the trail, I felt the thinness of the air. Initially, I wrapped my face under the blankets just Keeping my nostrils out. But, increasingly I felt better only by keeping my entire face open, breathing through my mouth. After tossing around for sometime, tiredness got the better of me. Keeping to the weather pattern, we woke up once again to a clear sky. There was some precipitation on the previous night. When I went out in the lawn, the ground was covered with white with frost. The dripping dew from previous night froze in the wee hours and the drops solidified mid air while falling from the roofs. Icicles of different lengths hung in the air. Carole was already on her way towards the base camp. We also wanted to hit the trail as early as possible. Afternoons get very windy as the entire trail is along the edge of the Kangchenjunga glacier. Gusts of winds start rising from the glacial bed to fill the valley with dust and cold. The surrounding peaks were ready to mermerize us with their crowns of gold.

We entered the dining space to have our breakfast. After some quick photographs at the lawn, we hit the trail. Based on the discussions we had with Dilal and Limbu, there were at least two large and active landslide areas to cover on the way. According to Limbu (who has been there umpteen times), one of these were just before the base camp. There is a steep descent followed by an equally steep ascent. All of that over unstable ground under the constant threat of falling stones. It seemed that Kangchenjunga wasn’t going to allow easy access to its premises. This is where it differs from the Everest base camp trail. At no point in that trail there’s any section that one could call as risky. Yes, there are places where it can he tiring, altitude can play it’s part, but if one is fit enough and keeps precautions (like regular intake of enough fluids), it’s only a matter of time to reach your destination. In every venture in the Himalayas, there are such trails. On earlier ocassions, they kept bearing upon my mind. On this ocassion, I chose not to. The trail went behind the dining space of our lodge. The ground was covered with frost but was level. We crossed some rubber pipes on our way. These pipes supply water to the lodges. They carry water from springs or waterfalls high up in the mountains.

The ground was white because of the frost, but some sections of it was moist. We also had to cross a few narrow streams of water. These were a result of melting of the frost by the rising sun. To our right, beyond the ridge, the ground dropped steep into the bed of the Kangchenjunga glacier. Beyong the glacier, the walls rose steep all the the way up where Mt Gimmigela stood guard. The northern sky was dominated by another awe inspiring mountain, the Nepal peak. There were many other mountains, all dazzling in the bright sunshine. Their glaciers and ice falls, ever more prominent.  We reached a sign-board that read “Syamjo”. It was also labeled as a blue sheep habitat area. We couldn’t spot any of those animals around.

We kept plodding ahead. The trail still wasn’t steep. Though we walked on relatively level ground, the thin air had its impact on our lungs which had to work harder. We made sure to stop intermittently to gulp down sips of water or pop in lozenges. After about 1.5 hours, another sign-board appeared – “Thanakpu 4966 m”. Two arrows on that board pointed in opposite directions. One towards the Pangpema base camp, still 2.5 hours ahead. The opposite arrow pointed towards Lhonak with an estimated time of 1.5 hours. The displayed time on our respective mobile phones tallied with that duration when calculated from our starting time.

The track moved towards the edge of the glacier and we reached another sign-board, this time not advertising the name of a place, but to mark the start of the first landslide area with a caution to watch out for falling stones. The trail abruptly ended at the edge. From thereon, a narrow line moved through pebbles, rocks and dust. That line was created by travelers barely making their way through this debris. We started treading down the path carefully, keeping a vigil on the ground above. But the unstable ground below our feet also made us look down to our right where the bed of the glacier lay bare. It appeared as a stream of rocky dunes filled with cracks and crevasses that revealed the icy interior. There were pools (many small and some large) of greenish or muddy waters.

It was a beautiful sight but we couldn’t afford much time as the landscape gave enough motivation to quickly get over it and regain the higher stable grounds. While gravity pulled us down towards the glacial bed, the unstable ground kept conspiring to dislodge our feet. I gladly accepted the supporting hand of Dilal. Getting a hand of support on such terrains offer more of mental peace rather than anything else. A strong enough slide could lead you down fast enough and no hand of support can help. The descent almost took us to the glacial bed, where it leveled out only to ascend once again. The way up was through unstable heaps of pebbles and stones. I always found ascents to be safer than descents. After working our way up, we regained the higher ground once again. We took some rest to allow our breaths to settle down. That also allowed us to look back at the terrain we just covered. It weighed somewhat in my mind that the same traversal would be repeated in the afternoon on my way back. We continued our push towards the base camp, which was getting nearer but still there were no signs of it. Neither did we get even a glimpse of Mt Kangchenjunga. It  was like the head of a nation delegating responsibilities to the beurocrats (the other mountains on the route) to escort us to its base. After giving some respite, another landslide area started. On this ocassion there was no going down but a scramble to go up amidst the loosely stacked rocks. Iron poles were placed along the entire trail at regular intervals, acting as milestones. We saw them here too, some of them about to be dislodged from their positions by rocks which fell from above. They were just about holding out. Nevertheless, they continued providing direction amidst the maze of rocks. After sometime our ordeal came to an end.

We saw almost level ground stretching to the horizon. Nepal peak increased in its stature but Kangchenjunga continued to elude us. "Jorkyu, 5035 m" - another sign-board declared. The base camp was another 100 m above. Going by the estimated time displayed by the board, we had another 1.5 hours left of the trail. The valley widened and the trail went through the middle of it. The sky was devoid of clouds except floating small white puffs. The mountains had the entire canvas to them and they justified it. We were walking towards the base of the eastern most mountain that reached above 8000 m. The Himalayas which traverse from the north western corner of India to its north east, gets closest to the sea in this area. That causes more precipitation in this area from moisture laden winds than any other parts of the Himalayas. A small hut appeared on the horizon. As we moved closer, another became prominent. From this distant place we could faintly see a few flags. Beyond the huts and near the flags, there were a few tents whose flaps were floating in the winds. Pangpema (5143 m) was finally in sight! That prompted me to turn to my right and there was the lord, in its full glory. The north face of Mt Kangchenjunga with Mt Yalung Kang to its east.

We increased our pace and reached the base camp almost in no time. Pangpema just has two tea houses. One of them has its room underground. But that was closed. The other tea house has a dining place but the staying option was in tents. Two tents were setup. Looking at them, they appeared spacious, at least enough for two. I tried to soak in the beauty of the place. Looking around, the horizon in every direction was dominated by snow peaks. On the extreme right, there is Mt Gimmigela.

As one turns anti-clock wise, one encounters other peaks and then the gaze gets fixed at the center. That's where the huge triangular massif of Mt Kangchenjunga appears. We kept looking at it, awestruck. The mountain rises from the base of the glacier in different phases,  each marked by hanging bodies of snow and ice. The pyramid gets narrower as the vision goes up along the slopes and finally ends in two distinct peaks, Mt Yalung Kang (8085 m, alternatively known as Kangchenjunga West) stands on the right. To its left, rises the main summit of Kanchenjunga (8586 m), the third highest mountain of the world. On this ocassion, bathing in bright sunshine. Dense white clouds formed its background, but the summit of both the mountains stayed clear.

A stream of ice and snow came down its slopes,  carrying the discharge of other surrounding mountains to merge with other such streams to form the Kangchenjunga glacier, which went all along the trail towards Lhonak and further down into the valley to give birth to the Ghunsa river. This huge massif was the source of multiple glaciers which drained its different slopes to form many other rivers and fed their respective valleys. Just as the Kangchenjunga glacier on this side, Yalung glacier lay on its southern slopes. Other than Ghunsa, the glaciers originating from this massif gives birth to the Tamor amd Teesta rivers.

Nepal peak stood firm, guarding the northern horizon. Unlike the Everest base camp, the entire place just had a handful of people. There were no expedition camps. This is because, the north base camp gets used to climb the northern face of a Kangchenjunga, which is dangerous and requires more technical climbing. The climbers attempting the north face typically advance further to setup higher camps. Most of the climbing happens via the southern (Yalung) base camp. Time flew by and we were reminded that our lunch was ready. We went inside the small dining hut and made ourselves comfortable at the table. Dal bhat was served. This meal was a result of sweat and toil of innumerable porters and yaks who carried all the raw materials (rice,  vegetables, even the cooking utensils,  oven, fuel etc.) to the base camp all the way up from the lower valleys. We, as urban dwellers, cannot even realize the necessity of such people in sustaining this trail.

After lunch, I started to prepare for our return. As planned earlier, Limbu was to accompany me. I bade a temporary goodbye to Dhananjoy and Dilal. They'd stay at the base camp to attempt a hike to Drohmo Ri (~6000 m) for the next day. I cast a final look at the surrounding mountains from the base camp, especially, Mt Kangchenjunga as it will go hiding again behind other mountains as soon we exit Pangpema. The sky was still clear, though more clouds started closing in towards the mountains.

Limbu kept ahead of me, but was within reach. We soon reached the first landslide area and started moving down the slopes. For a change, this didn't seem as dangerous as while we crossed it on our way up. The place started to get windy. By the time, we reached the second landslide area, strong winds started to rise from the Kangchenjunga glacier. I had my jacket, hat and gloves on my body. Even then, it seemed insufficient. The strong gales also raised the risk of stones sliding down. I took support of Limbu's hand and started the descent. He was moving fast and I had to keep up with the pace. At times, I almost felt getting dragged down. With unstable ground under my feet, it proved difficult. The sight of the glacier with gaping crevasses below also added to the stress. Instead of trying to get a conscious grip on my steps, I chose to let go, despite some minor slides on the way. Fortunately, such minor slides got arrested quickly. Finally, we reached a level track that ran parallel but very close to the glacial bed. Then came the ascent. I scrambled up through the broken slopes and crossed the sign-board that warned about the start of the landslide area. After regaining high ground, I stopped for a moment to gulp down some sips of water. My mouth ran dry. The strong gales of wind dashed against my body. The constant sound made it impossible to hear anything else. Limbu was way ahead of me. I tried calling him but my shouts died amidst the blowing gales. I met Carole, who was resting at Syamjo (the place labeled as habitat for mountain goats). When I reached there, I found the reason. Herds of goats were roaming around the slopes nearby. They gave ample time for some stills as well as videos.

Reaching Syamjo made me feel at home as Lhonak was just about 1.5 hours away (distances are always mentioned in terms of hours, rather than kms, in the Himalayan trails of Nepal). I felt a few raindrops on my body. That caused me to pace up. The drops increased in their frequency. The sight of the distant tea houses of Lhonak gave me immense relief. I was finally back at the tea house at 14.30.

Stay at Pangpema base camp

This section has been described based on experiences of Dhananjoy and Dilal.

After lunch, Dhananjoy and Dilal explored the interior of the tent. It had decent space for two persons. Enough matrices were laid out. There were warm blankets too. Regardless of the bedding, they realized that they needed to keep their warm wears on while sleeping. The weather still stayed clear. As afternoon wore on, winds started getting chillier. They knew as soon as the sun goes down behind the mountains, temperature would plummet. A set of Alpine Chough's (a bird that looks like a crow, but has yellow beaks) kept searching for some food in places nearby the tea houses.

In later afternoon, a herd of blue sheep came and started roaming quite close the base camp tents. Dhananjoy looked at the slopes to the opposite side to search for the trail of Drohmo Ri. There wasn't any formal trail. Just a track that could be identified by traces left by earlier travelers. The entire hike was through boulders. Every year, it changes. Only local guides who've been there before, could find their way through. Even Dilal was going for the first time. Fortunately, there was another guide from a different team, who've been there before. They decided to team up for the morrow. As darkness started setting in, they moved inside the tea house to have some tea. They stay put to have the warmth of the kitchen till dinner got served. After that, they slid to their tent under the warmth of the blankets with their jackets on. The next day, at about 3.45, their hike to Drohmo Ri would start over the surface of loosely placed boulders, likely to be covered with snow. They were sleeping at 5143 m.

Earlier