Day One, Zanskar Trek: Lamayaru to Wanla

Today is an easy day with only five hours of walking but am already quaking from self-doubts. While checking out of the hotel in Leh, a naysayer of a cashier had looked at me in astonishment when I told him of our Lamayaru to Padum trek. The conversation went something like this –

Cashier: “Toh aap trekking karenge”
Me: “Haan”
Cashier: “Acchi baat he. Kahan par?”
Me: “Lamayaru se Padum”
Cashier (astonished): “Aap kar sakoge?”
Me (puzzled): “Karne ke liye hi aaye hain…”
Cashier: “Bahoot mushkil he. Aap kar sakoge”
Me (pissed off): “Haan kyun nahin?!”
Cashier (doubtful): “Achcha…”
Me (trying to escape quickly): “Thanks…” To myself - “… for nothing”

On top of PrinkitiLa pass (12,240 ft). Pic by Aniruddha Das

But my confidence is shaken and I send imploring looks to my friends and guide to help boost my confidence. Alas, there’s not much that they can do. We take off soon and in two hours we are at the base of the first pass, PrinkitiLa Pass which at 12,240 ft is the smallest of our climbs. But it tells us what to expect – huff-puff slow progress for me, Naveen’s form is taking shape while Ani’s being his usual android self, showing no inclination to tire at all (what does he eat?!).

We are accompanied by a rat pack of Czech adventurers. They are a motley group – two are struggling with their gear, two alpha-males are competing with each other and others are keeping a sensible but fast pace. Annoyingly, one of the alpha males even drops his bag to run up a hill on our path kicking up dust. We can even hear the hum of his footsteps. Soon the whole group overtakes us, though we do spot them again – ahem, skinny dipping in a cold, glacier-fed river. Nuts!

We are at Wanla by mid-afternoon but there’s no sight of our tent. Rajesh (our guide) tells that we have to learn to setup our tents. There’s no mistake of the message here, I think groaning inwardly. What about days when we are so dog-tired that breathing will seem like a chore? Will we still have to setup our tents? Nevertheless, the tent is up soon but it’s too hot to settle inside. I can feel the sun setting up his burn factory on my epidermis which makes me quite grumpy. To make matters worse, the boys want to go up to the river and Naveen is entertaining some strange ideas about jumping into the river. After a quick and easy wash (easy because unlike in other camps, the water is not sub-zero and I don’t have to do gymnastics to just wash my face), we saunter around, take pictures, have many cups of tea and relax.

A Glutton for Punishment…

Or at least that was my friend’s reaction when she heard I was heading off on a Himalayan trek for ten days. To be honest, I felt the same on the sixth day of my trek after a six hour climb up a steep mountain path which then had whittled down to a half metre ledge. However, I did reach the top and the exhilaration… well, that story is for later.

Nervous excitement for our three-member team – Naveen, Ani & me - had set in the moment our plane touched ground on the inconspicuous Leh airstrip. We had a day to acclimatize, wait for our guide (who was to come from Manali) and the next day travel to Lamayaru (five hour drive away from Leh). The day went by quickly with last minute gear shopping, specifically buying… ahem fake North Face gear.

It was dinner time and our guide hadn’t turned up yet, and we were worried. Will he or won’t he come? Did he find a group that would pay better? Thankfully, he turned up. At 3 in the night! Turns out he had had a harrowing, long drive from Manali.

It was dawn soon, and we were already bundled off in a rather derelict of a bus with all our gear secured to the carriage on top. A five-hour bumpy drive later we were in the Buddhist town of Lamayaru. The monastery in the town is one of the largest and oldest (founded in 956 AD) Tibetian Buddhist gompas in Ladakh, and lucky us, they were having a special prayer that evening. While our guide’s assistants set up the tents and got busy with making dinner, we shook off the cramps of our bus journey by taking the steep road to the monastery. When we quietly padded into the prayer hall, the monks were already chanting and singing, the monks-in-training aka little monks aka boy monks were proudly displaying their musical skills on cymbals, trumpets and drums, and curious tourists/spirituality-bums sat flanking the outer edge of the hall. We felt as if transported to another realm, and it all seemed surreal until a boy-monk came along with a tea flask and a carton of apricots. The older monks enthusiastically filled their cups to the brim and filled their laps with the fruit between mouthing the chants and singing.

Lamayaru Monastery

Back at our tents, incredibly, we can smell mutton. Whoa! Since it was the start of the trek, our guide and his entourage of a cook and assistant, have decided to treat us to a rich meal. For the next ten days, we may not even get a whiff of meat.

Lamayaru campsite. Pic by Aniruddha Das

The long overdue Zanskar Trek log

It's been more than three months since our momentous Lamayaru to Leh, but the memories of cobalt-blue skies, harsh winds, caramelised landscapes and Buddhist monasteries still singe our bloods. There's just no escape from the call of the Himalayas and, not too different from the enslavement of an addict, I can't wait until I set foot on those mountains again.