Blossom Valley

The joy of beholding the Valley of Flowers is one that needs to be experienced. Vyas Sivanand shares his rapture

Pics: Courtesy Saahas.com

There was just a sliver of a moon that early August night. But it was bright enough to distinguish shapes from shadows. At that point of time, I really didn’t care much a bout either; I was just happy to have finally trekked - or rather plodded - my way up to Gangaria, the base camp for the Valley of Flowers.

In the gathering darkness, the home truth kept shining in my face like a million stars. Impulsive trips, like the one that had landed me in a small village nestled at 3,000 metres above sea level in the mountains of Garhwal, were an absolute no-no. Fatigued to the state of a zombie, there were only two things that carried me through the grueling 18 kms trek from Govind Ghat to Gangaria - the steady flow of abuses from Sethi, my pal and instigator, to pursue my inherent dream of travelling to Himalayan heights and my inherent stubbornness to finish what I had started. The trek was a real tough zone for an amateur trekker like me and it took some real elbow grease and a good seven hours to cover the distance. Despite the aching protests of my tired legs, I was suffused with a high of accomplishment.

Flashback

In Delhi for an official visit, I met up for a drink with Sethi and at some point expressed my long-standing dream of visiting the Valley of Flowers. Without wasting a moment, he said, “Let’s go,” and we hit the road with me dressed in a prim shirt, formal trousers, Blackburn leather shoes and a change of clothes. Even the signature backpack was missing.

The journey from Delhi to Rishikesh, about 280 kilometres, is through flat unrewarding stretch of barren and rural landscape. The drive is unexciting. All along the route, there is a kind of parched-mud melancholy, which even the abundant weeds or the call of a passing crow cannot soften. It was mercilessly hot - the kind where the sun seems to burn its brand into the hide of the land. Apparently the rains were delayed and had yet to hit the region in full fury. During August, the roads leading to Rishikesh are filled with Kavarias - ardent Shiva devotees - and people wearing saffron coloured shirts and shorts, holding their kavas to bring the holy Ganga back to their home. The experience is cacophonous but in hindsight it did create a postcard picture, beautiful with its colours running together.

In Transit

After Rishikesh, our next destination was Joshimath and the journey wheels through some of the most magnificent and famous religious landmarks - Srinagar (not to be mistaken with J&K), Devprayag, Rudraprayag, Karnprayag and Nandprayag.

For the first half of the journey, the Ganga is a constant companion on one side of the winding road. Wild apples, alpines, rhododendrons, mangroves, terraced fields, wild curry leaves - these sights were definitely richer in comparison to the Delhi-Rishikesh stretch. It is strongly advisable to take your own transportation rather than the state transport bus; it’s torture at its worst.

At Joshimath, accommodation is usually not a concern and we easily bargained a king-size room for Rs 80. But other than that, there is nothing worth mentioning. One has to wake up early to reach Govind Ghat, the last motorable destination to reach the valley, as the roadways here have one-way traffic. So if you miss the 9.00 am flow of traffic, you will have to wait till 11.30 am for the gates to open again. An hour's drive took us to Govind Ghat, a small stopover with hoards of shacks selling food and accessories like malas, kadas, prasads, rudrakshas, etc.

At 1.00 pm, we started our seemingly easy 18-kilometre trek to Gangaria through Pulna, Bhyundar and Kuwan Pul with the Alakhnanda river for company throughout. The zigzag mule track straightens through an ascending valley of terraced fields and vegetation. It was 8.00 pm by the time I completed what had seemed an easy trek and was completely pooped! We got our accommodation, though not as easily and as cheap as in Joshimath, but I did not care much - all I wanted was some shut-eye. But the anticipation of reaching the Valley of Flowers the next day kept me awake for a while.

We were to leave for Hemkund Sahib, a gurudwara at about 4,000 metre so that we could have the rest of the time in the valley. Thanks to me, while we were to get up at 5.30 am, we left for Hemkund only at 9.00 am. The trek was too steep and we did 1.5 kilometer in as many hours. We could have opted for a pony to take us uphill but Sethi chose not to, recollecting a horrid aftermath on his body, referring to his haunches.

Amidst Nature

Hemkund is 6.5 kilometre from Gangaria and the gurudwara closes at 4.00 pm. Sethi abandoned the plan of Hemkund and we took the diversion to the valley. The trek is three kilometre and thankfully, it was not too tough.

All along, with the chill, the greens, the myriad colours of flowerful pastures with clear running streams set against silver birches and partially shining snow peaks; there was no chance in the world for exhaustion. Very natural, with no hint of any abuse by mankind; every moist place held its quota of flowers.

Completely an alpine valley, it was formed by the retreating glaciers whose periodic advances and retreat pulverised hard rocks, resulting in a smooth U-shaped valley, which was later colonised by numerous plants adapting themselves to the harsh climatic conditions prevailing there. The king of the Himalayan flowers Saussurea Obvallata, popularly known as 'brahma kamal' is found in abundance here, especially towards Hemkund Sahib.

The best part about the valley, which is spread over an expanse of 87.5 kilometre, is that even during the peak months, one hardly finds tourists and we were delighted to see nature at its best. True it is, as John Muir, the naturalist, writer and conservationist once wrote, “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”