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A Mukherjee World View | ||
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Day 4 - Going Up!
The final assault on Roopkund is today. With this somewhat alarming thought in mind, we had a hurried (and rather unsatisfying) breakfast of cornflakes (with non-dairy creamer for me, thanks to lactose-intolerance) and set off, around 7.10 am. Amit had been reluctant to leave his cosy sleeping bag and I had taken a prolonged bathroom break, so we were amongst the last to leave camp.
Behind us, someone was suggesting that I couldn't make it and should turn back. This sowed a seed of determination in me – who was he to suggest that I couldn't make it? I opened my eyes, cleared my head and plodded on. Gradually, we caught up with a few of those ahead of us. This boosted my self esteem. Others were finding the going tough as well. One of them decided to turn back and another was on the verge of doing so. We carried on, up the hill, step by step, up the steep zig zags of the neverending path, trying to justify all the training we had put in for this trek. The black rock face we must attain hung seemingly quite out of reach. At the top, we could see those who had reached waving to us jubilantly. If they could do it, so could we. We trudged on.
Roopkund is a small lake, surrounded by stark, black, rocky hills. There was snow further up, but not here. The words to describe it would not be pretty or picturesque, so much as dreary, bleak and austere. The snowcapped peaks, Trisul and Nanda Ghunti, were mostly blocked from view by the ridge of the hill we were on. On one side, the path continued to Jiunaar Gali (at an altitude of over 17000 feet), which is the pass over this range of hills and from where the entire range of snowcapped peaks is said to be clearly visible. We had all wanted to go, but most of us are in no condition to walk another hour or so, another 1000 feet up. Although I also had fervently wanted to go on, I was secretly relieved to know that we need go up no further. Food was served at Roopkund – sooji halwa, boiled potatoes, biscuits, dates – but no water. The lake was frozen solid. We sipped cautiously at the 1 lt bottle that Amit and I were sharing. After an hour spent recovering our energy and trying not to feel too disappointed, we started off downhill again. This time, too, we were among the last to leave. |
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Comments and information welcome. Write to
anamika dot mukherjee at amukherjeeworld dot net |
Almost as soon as we started, the altitude got to me, not physically but mentally. Although I was not physically tired, I became mentally tired, feeling that I couldn't do it – it was not a feeling of depression or despair so much as a sort of lassitude, a giving up, an overriding indifference. Amit, behind me, kept goading me, pushing me on, but for a while, every step was a mental battle. Somehow I plodded on, eyes more than half shut, seeing only the next step beneath my feet, unaware of anything around me except Amit patiently urging me on. The going was steep, but, even as we gained altitude, at no time was I so short of breath that I was panting or hyperventilating. Only each sharp turn of the path, each set of steps cut into the rock seemed like an obstacle that was not only insurmountable but, worse, not even worth attempting. 
It took us three long hours, but at last we got there.