The trek to the abyss and back

My joy knew no bounds when I left for a trekking expedition to Srinagar - the paradise on earth -- with 19 others from diverse fields: Entrepreneurs, software engineers, home makers and students.

I had my own vibrant idea of the beauty and glory of Jammu & Kashmir -- silver lakes, crystal blue rivers, glaciers adorning the mountain tops, resplendent rose gardens, picture-perfect landscapes and mouth watering Kashmiri biryani and piping hot Kahwa - a Kashmiri beverage prepared in a brass kettle, flavoured with cinnamon, cardamom, dried rose petals, almonds and authentic saffron.

After a gastronomical indulgence of Kashmiri biryani, shahi paneer, khadi pakoda, nadru yakhni and Kahwa tea, we visited the Mughal Gardens, Dal lake for a delightful boat ride, and a ‘warmup’ trek at Nilnag lake. The next stop was at Sri Shankaracharya temple atop the Zabarwan range to invoke the blessings for the trek of the ‘Great Lakes of Kashmir’.

The trek started from Sonarmarg, an 80-km drive from Srinagar. But the real, arduous trek commenced from the ‘table top’ camp which is a 4-hour trek from Sonamarg. The mighty team of 20, with all the euphoria and sporting branded trekking gears reached the ‘Nichnai Pass’ with tents pitched at an altitude of 12,500 feet. All good so far.

The incessant rains over-night brought the temperature down to freezing levels and the wet boulders unravelled a slippery slope that the best of trekking shoes failed to sclae. This is when my nerves gave way. I had no confidence to brave the rough terrain. And I decided to separate from the team and hoped for an easier descent. There must be a different, easier path to reach my base camp at Sonarmarg, I thought.

I was wrong. The guide informed me that I have to trek back on the exact route -- a stretch of normal trek, moraine (comprising of rocks and boulders, present in glacial environment) and the gushing streams.

My heart sank. My trembling legs had to cover a 7-hour trek back to Nichnai table top. That wasn’t the end of my misery. It was getting darker, colder and I had to reach Sonamarg before the sun set. The local guide, Abdulla, mounted me on Chinnu, a ‘mule’. And the trauma deepened as Chinnu gallopped, fast and furious, on the rocky terrain. With nothing to hold on to except a metal piece fixed on the mule’s neck, I was convinced my end was near. Abdulla’s caution that I should keep my balance even if the animal jumps, sent a chill down my spine. I decided to walk the distance. It was a traumatic end to an exciting trek.