My trek to Triund in Himachal Pradesh was supposed to be a solo one or so was the plan. But then when man proposes, God disposes. And God’s decision to foil my plans worked in my favour this time around. Thanks to an equally, or should I say, more adventurous companion, my trek didn’t end at Triund as earlier planned, not even at Snowline which is about two hours uphill from Triund; we camped at a tiny secluded café close to 45 minutes by foot from Snowline. Located somewhere in the Illaqua region, the Dhauladhar Café stands tall as the sole reminder of human civilization amidst endless stretches of rocky terrain and sparse vegetation. No buzzing mobile phones, no laptops, no sound of traffic or human cacophony – the only sound you can hear here is that of pure silence.
We set out on our trek to Triund from Dharamkot at about 10:30 on a moderately cold November morning. Our hosts at Flugler Hostel were kind enough to show us a path that directly led to the Gallu Temple, the starting point of the trek, in 20 minutes. The initial lap of the trek for nearly an hour or so was easy, mainly level ground with occasional climbs. I spent this time focusing less on the path and more on appreciating the natural beauty around us: the distant view of towering mountains, the lush greenery, the chirping of the birds and the occasional rays of the sun streaming through the overhead canopy of trees; all of them helping calm my racing mind. While the trek did get a little more intense with every passing hour, a few Gatorades and water breaks kept us going. After about 3.5 hours, we were finally at Triund. And like everyone who has been to Triund or on any other trek would agree, the view at the summit drowns any fatigue that you were succumbing to until then.
Triund was beautiful and cold. After spending a few minutes taking in the view, we treated ourselves to some egg Maggi (Mind you, the prices for commodities are almost double at Triund and all along the trek). It was about 2:30 in the afternoon by then. Walking around Triund, we enquired about the possibility of trekking to Snowline. Though the locals were of the opinion that it would get terrifyingly cold up there much worse than Triund itself, I never got the seriousness of what they meant until hours later. But of course, neither of us regretted the fact that we paid no heed to their warnings.
We picked our backpacks and embarked on the next stretch of our trek towards Snowline. Unlike the Gallu temple to Triund stretch, the journey forward from Triund to Snowline didn’t have a well marked-out route. Though there were rocks with occasional signs marked in yellow for trekkers, we ended up missing one or two, leaving us confused and lost. Again, unlike the trek to Triund, there aren’t any vendors selling Gatorade, chips, and water en route Snowline. Hence, there was a slim chance of finding people to ask for directions. Fortunately for us, we met a guy who was headed in the same direction as us and owned a cafe ahead of Snowline. With a little guidance from him and immense push from our own tired feet, we made it to the Snowline cafe by 4:30 p.m. The cold had started to set in by then, and our legs were sore from all the walking. The sight of Snowline Café felt like victory. We were almost ready to put down our bags and celebrate when, our companion, pointing to a tiny structure in the distance at an area completely secluded and with terrain much different from that of Snowline, popped us a question, “Would you like to come over to my café?”
I jumped at the opportunity. I was tired but was also aware that I may not make a trip here ever again. Given that we had anyway come this far, why not go a little further, I thought. My partner-in-crime was in agreement too. Without wasting another second, we trudged forward to our new destination.
Though our guide cum host promised it would take us only 20 minutes to reach his cafe, we took nearly 45 minutes. The sun had already disappeared from the horizon. It was dark and cold. colder. colder than anything I had experienced in all my life. My feet were sore, my nose was frozen, and my hands refused to come out from the cosy comforts of my jacket pockets. All I could think of then was to dig into some food and go off to sleep. As the thought of eating and sleep engulfed my mind, a bonfire was lit and hot tea served. The warmth of the fire and tea brought instant relief. At once I felt the lost energy streaming back into my veins, and the thoughts of tiredness and sleep ebbed away. We were now enjoying the warmth of the fire and having conversations with the two boys who run the cafe. Packs of biscuits and chips vanished in no time during the conversation. When I was finally over my fight against the cold, I took a moment to look around. And that was when I fell in love with what I saw. The sky was lit by a million stars, like fairy lights strung together by an invisible thread. Kissing the sky, the Dhauladhar mountain ranges seemed to be spreading its arms far and wide to take us all in its embrace. The silhouette of the trees and rocks, and this one cafe standing amidst vast stretches of emptiness just felt perfect.
The whistle of the pressure cooker broke the silence and my flow of thoughts. A large plate of hot dal and rice was served and delightfully relished. We spent the rest of the night talking away and thanking the rum and coke for keeping us warm. We talked hours at a stretch probably intoxicated by the absolute calm around us. The only challenge was to answer the call of nature. Stripping layers of clothing to relieve oneself felt like a terror given the dipping temperature, but there was no choice and that was done too; at a place where water froze in no time.
By 12:30 a.m. the fire slowly died out, forcing us to head to our tent to grab some sleep. But with the fire gone and the effect of alcohol wearing out, I started to feel the cold biting into my toes, tips of my ears and nose. Two sleeping bags and three layers of clothing didn’t seem to be of any help. I checked the time and knew I had to get through another five hours before sunrise. Just for a moment, the thought of being found frozen to death at the foot of a mountain, miles and miles away from home freaked me. Anyway, time passed faster than I thought it would and soon enough it was seven in the morning. I heaved a sigh of relief when I caught the first glimpse of the sun’s rays escaping from behind the mountains. I basked in the sun and helped myself to some Aloo Paratha and chai. By 10 a.m., we bid goodbye to our hosts and headed back down, reaching Dharamkot in about 4.5 hours as against the 6.15 hours we took to go uphill.
Treks like this one leave me supermotivated. It reminds me to get out of my comfort zone more and push my limits. It makes me realize that nothing is unattainable if I pursue it with passion and determination. And lastly, the destination is beautiful but what is really transforming is the journey to that destination.
The Illaqua trek has left me wanting to go back to the hills soon, very soon.
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