The Hindu Business Line : Gurgling meadows

It's a hazy sun that greets us as we alight from the train at Kathgodam and transfer to jeeps to begin our journey into the hills of Uttaranchal. The drive is long, but the vistas that unfold are so beautiful that we barely notice time go by. It's sunset when we reach the tiny hamlet of Saong from where it's an hour's walk to Loharkhet, our camp for the night. Darkness falls quickly but the path is quite visible in the clear night and we reach the village well in time for a bonfire and a hot meal.

We begin our trek with the sun's first rays. Though the track is run down and rugged and the incline sharp, we are well acclimatised by mid-morning when we reach Jhandhiadhar, a tiny habitation hidden among the pines. We take a break at the teashop along the ridge where apart from the ultimate reviver, a glass of steaming sweet tea, the pahari chaiwallah offers us other refreshments — aloo ka gutka (spicy potatoes cooked in mustard oil), a piquant cucumber raita and a chutney of anardana soaked and ground to a paste with fresh coriander.

Energised, we pick up our backpacks and move on. The ensuing lap takes us to Dhakuri Top, then down to the Dhakuri campsite, set picturesquely amidst rolling-meadows surrounded by tall conifers. We settle into tents under an inky sky lit by a million stars. Dawn unfolds a gorgeous sight of shadowed peaks suffused with a lustrous glaze.

It's from Dhakuri that we approach the valley of the Sunderdunga river. The path takes us between clusters of homes, their slanted roofs carpeted with myriad creepers, the fenced yards vivid with flowers and fields vibrant with paddy and the magenta and gold of ripening amaranthus. We hear the river's thunderous flow much before it comes into view.

It's after the rickety slatted bridge that the trail begins. It goes by the river through grasses and bushes and occasional groves of wild walnut before winding up through verdant hill flora. The dense undergrowth and dappled shadows makes it moist and cool. Soon the river is far below— a streak of silver in the noonday sun. Beginning to feel quite like the happy wanderer, we reach Ritting, another single teashop, by late afternoon, where a lively lad entertains us with local lore while we sip a delicious clove and mint infusion laced with lemon.

From Ritting the track passes through a multi-hued forest. Evergreens mingle with the autumnal colours of the chestnut; there's the Himalayan maple and oak, and somewhere in between the silver birch, its inner bark the fine bhojpatra on which rishis of yore penned their wisdom. Nor are these woods silent. Pheasants rustle in the dense grasses at our feet. We hear the rat-a-tat of woodpeckers, the melodious crooning of leaf warblers, the hoot of the wood owl and the animated twittering of a host of birds we can't identify. And all along, the rush of streams and occasionally in the dappled shade a thatched water mill chugging away.

We halt at Jatoli, a picturesque village surrounded by hills on all sides. Here we hire porters for the rest of the trek, for mules do not attempt the tricky route ahead. Here too, we get a taste of native fare. The headman, a veteran sherpa, offers us a curry of tender fresh broad beans, a sabzi of the crisp pahari spinach and rotis made from madua — hill millet. Redolent with wood-smoke, the meal is delicious.

The moon is still visible when we leave camp to walk along a sharp and narrow path that soon fades away. We cross swift brooks, clamber over mossy rocks and gingerly tread on till quite magically the trail materialises again, taking us through a deep glen to the Sunderdunga once more.

The stretch ahead is tricky for severe snow-slides and glacial movement have eroded the hills to pile debris along the river. We walk over moraine along the fast flowing water till the path moves away and up through thick deodars and, quite unexpectedly, a striking expanse of yellow-stemmed bamboo.

The wilderness eventually makes way for low shrubs and grasses and a fairly level trail to Kathaliya. There's nothing more than a camper's hut here, but the place is ethereal any time of the day. We walk to the edge to see the Sunderdunga flowing below among beautiful white and translucent boulders.

Since we have made it this far our guide coaxes us on to Baluni Bugyal. It's a steep, steep climb through stunted, gnarled trees and tangled floor-cover to a wide expanse clothed by tall grasses that have turned deep brown in deference to the approaching winter. All around are the snowy mountains towered over by Maiktoli, Nandaghunti, Durgakot, and Pawalidwar peaks.

We soak in the beauty of the clear ranges before descending to Kathaliya and back to Jatoli where we spend an extra day before heading back.

Fact file

Getting there: Delhi is connected to Kathgodam by rail. Kathgodam to Saung (210 km) can be covered by private, public or hired transport.

Best period: May-June and September-October

Pictures by the author

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