The morning started with Soph relocating to the cafe early to make use of the faster morning wifi and discussion regarding a further delay prior to heading West to the train station at Pathankot to fast track us across to Haridwar. Still one more day of coffee, porridge and rice pudding, how can you go wrong. I truthfully did not forecast the day I would be craving porridge but it is a nice deviation from our morning prantha. It is like having toast every morning, regardless of topping it has to get boring.
Post a scrumptious breakfast and wifi update we headed up Bhagsu road heading for Dharamkot and then onto Triund Pass. A popular trekking route leading up onto the Dhauladhar range.
Past the Firs from the other day, but the Ferets had obviously moved onto alternate feeding grounds. The walk started with a smooth fire trail that wound up above Dharamkot and then gradually lead higher and higher. The higher you climbed the cleaner it got as less people obviously frequent and there was even a sign by the Himachal Mountaineering Assoc identifying a fine for littering. The path as it grew higher decreased in size marginally and increased in rock content as it weaved it's way up to the pass. Similar to Alpine walks in the Snowys as you climb the vegetation changes, though unfortunately they don't appear to have the beautiful snow gums. There is however a gnarled dark green leaved tree that has elements of similar character and snow grass. In typical Indian style there is also some entrepreneurialism, with a chai store perched three quarters of the way up, with beautiful views over Bhagsu, Dharamkot, McLeodganj and Dharamasala.
The chai guy had an interesting outlook on the expansion of Indian population and the eventual deforestation , environmental impacts that it would have, unfortunately many of the things discussed were not unique to the Indian situation, but population is probably more of a pressing issue here. His store was packed with the gear you would expect at such a location, water, soft drink and chocolate. Apparently during the season ie summer / spring large groups would pass his store, but during winter this drys up especially in January - February when he can get snowed in.
We bunch up behind one such Indian group all in matching tracksuits of dark blue and red. Mainly guys about college age? The group is large enough to have two quite furry dogs following them who look very healthy. The chai guy did identify that during summer, fleas were a big issue as the monsoon made the mountain side quite damp and warm. Then between the sheep, goats, vermin and roaming city dogs it made things quite bad. He identified that the larger the group the more likely dogs would follow them up. These dogs looked quite healthy and as winter we weren't left scratching.
The view from the saddle was fantastic. Looking across though much closer to the main range still towering above to the North. The snow spread sparsely along the scree slopes as it appears quite a knife edge ridge, especially from this perspective. From the saddle a ridge line runs to our west connecting to the main range. A trail is just evident leading up. We decide to follow the spur to the east of the saddle to a couple of knolls that give great views back over the city far below. In the main saddle there are a further group of leanto styled rock slate buildings housing snack foods and drinks. Also a small guest house by the looks.
We decide to take a short cut on the way back post speaking with a guy outside a Hindi shrine overlooking the valley. He communicates to Soph that yes there is a back way to Bhagsu and it follows the spur eastward in a more direct route to the town.
We can make out a kangaroo trail but more likely goat, leading off along the spur line which is mainly short grass and rock at this height. Every know and again the trail breaks into sections of stone stairs but of an age and design that makes them look part of the natural lie of the mountain. Every now and again there are rock cairns that assist in the navigation. Our directions are quite simple, follow the path to the temple then turn right.
We pass several small Hindi shrines questioning ourselves as to their temple status. Still we are falling in the right general direction and their appear to slate rock huts below us overlooking the valley. Although the chai seller did identify that some of these high huts were only occupied during the summer by nomadic herdsman the places looked in good repair from the top. A couple of times we took deviations away from the path as in a rocky environment a semi rock path is sometimes difficult to spot. Still dropping in the right direction and aiming for the houses, every now and again picking up the path. One point lead us around a large rocky knoll on really large smooth slate sections, the slate with a slight silvery glint. Soph was reminded a couple of times of Dales her childhood home which was made by italian stonemasons of Bluestone.
Every now and again the path where no stone cairn is evident a red ribbon is tied to a bush. I can't remember from red riding hood whether the ribbons lead to or away from danger, Soph is no help as her memory is even holier then mine. Still we are moving towards the huts which are now getting larger. The surrounding bushes are also now getting larger as we drop from the snow line. Red riding hood however has been quite proficient and every time that we question the route another ribbon comes into sight.
We climb through massive bushes of what unfortunately turns out to be stinging nettle, thankfully the path is just one person wide and so able to squeeze through. The vegetation also includes another thorny bush not as dense as a blackberry but as high. The unfortunate result of this vegetation is that it has reduced our line of sight and we are now track dependent with various options. We enter the first cluster of houses and their is no sign of life. The houses have rocks in their window holes and their little metal doors are locked. There is evidence of fresh goat and sheep dung, but I am no Bear Grylis and I am not going to get up close and personal with the dung unless I am really desperate.
We head west towards another clump of similar houses about 200 mtrs away. On route Soph spots some saris down to our right. In the time that it takes to come back to her she is spotted and waved at. We head down quickly following the sounds of women until the sound disappears. The combination of this vegetation and various rock paths would and is making a great maze. Thankfully following the direction in which they disappeared we round a corner and their are four brightly coloured Indian saris on four smiling Indian women. Post pleasantries we identify that we heading for Bhagsu which coincidentally is where they also are heading. They live up on the ridge but during the offseason traverse between here and Bhagsu, below. Three of the women are quite advanced in age and one is carrying a bag on her head. My offer to carry the bag was declined.
We head off down the hill, but pull over to sit and rest not long after joining. We meet an older man walking with a stick, who is obviously part of the group. We discuss where we are from whilst having a drink and some cookies, then off again. Maybe 300mtrs down the path we pull over again for another rest which is combined with an impromptu singing session, which though beautiful leads to our departure from the group following what is now a well marked trail which leads down to the falls behind Bhagsu. Thankfully not being monsoon season the falls are not in full swing as to cross to the main path you cut across the front of the waterfalls watercourse.
Down to Bhagsu picking up trash on the way and find a fantastic Punjabi Dhaba which has a sink and soap out the front, just past the Gurka memorial. A godsend. The food was fantastic, great Chana Masala.
Chill out prior to heading down to the Namgyal cafe (vocational training setup for Tibetan refugees) to grab five veg pizzas (surprisingly not that difficult) and cider beer, which unfortunately is non alcoholic. Then off to Frances and Rory's place for tea. Start a bidding war at the taxi rank as our driver must have broken taxi etiquette and then are forced onto a side road on the way down as a chief minister is in town. Driver nearly runs a guy into a ditch which leads to some of the dirtiest stares I have seen in India before finally making it with semi cold pizzas, still nothing that an oven cannot resolve.