REMINISCENCES OF SOME EXPEDITIONS IN THE HIMALAYAS

REX CARDEW

I

In June 1938 I visited Kyelang in Lahoul. There were three of us in the party and we had a month's leave for the trip. The journey from Lahore to Manali is well known, but on the way we made a little diversion to get into training. From Dharmsala we made a quick visit to the Indrahar pass which is one of the passes across the Fauladhar range from the Kangra valley into the Ravi valley in Brahmaur. I was anxious to climb to this view point as, two years previously, I had travelled from Dalhousic to Dharmsala over the range by the Gaj pass, which is about the same altitude but a few miles west of the Indrahar.

We camped at Laka Gok in our bivouac tents at about 10,000 feet, taking two local men who had been up the pass before. At about 5.30 we got off and after a mile or so on a long snow-bed struck off to the left, crossing and recrossing the valley of the snow- bed later when it became too steep to negotiate easily. On the steep rocky pitch which followed I caught my shin bone on a sharp projection and managed to cut open a vein. However, snow wrapped in a handkerchief staunched the somewhat profuse flow, and we reached the pass (14,500 feet) just about noon.

The view all around was magnificent. On the way we had overtaken some shepherds and their sheep who had started earlier than ourselves, and just as we were preparing to leave the summit, they joined us again. It was fascinating to watch the flocks wending their way up towards us across the untrodden snow on the north slopes of the pass.

Our descent was rapid; we were back at Laka about 4.30 p.m.

II

After our diversion to climb the Indrahar pass, we left Manali, 8,000 feet, at the upper end of the Kulu valley and marched up a picturesque valley to Ralila (some 1 o miles) where there is a rather dilapidated rest-house. On the way we crossed the bridge near Kothi where the Beas runs in a narrow gorge, almost 100 feet deep and scarcely 20 feet wide, for about a mile.

Soon after leaving Rahla next morning the road up the Rohtang pass began, with its 'thousand steps'—the ponies taking the longer, less steep track. Some devotee of earlier times constructed this stairway of massive stones, each step from eighteen inches to 2 feet deep, making both ascent and descent rather tiring. After the stairway, the valley flattens out and the road rises gradually through green pasture land to the snow line, and thence over rocky spurs and snow slopes to the summit, which stretches more or less level for a mile or so. A little off the beaten track the source of the Rikki Beas springs under a large rock, near the cairn where all travellers place a stone, as a prayer for safe conduct. In June the rock was almost snow- covered and it was necessary to scramble down 6 feet of snow to reach the water.

The pass is about 13,800 feet, and the descent on the northern side to the rest-house and village at Koksar (10,000 feet) was fairly easy going, as most of the snow had melted. We got a good wetting where the pathway leads under a waterfall. At Koksar the road crosses to the north bank of the Chandra by a modern suspension bridge. There are signs of bridges of older times which have doubtless been washed away and replaced. We followed the right bank of the Chandra down to its junction with the Bhaga, about 20 miles from Koksar. Rest-houses and camping grounds are very pleasantly situated at Sissu and Gondla, about 8 miles apart. At Gondla there is a very picturesque Buddhist Gompa with a pleasing square tower with sloping sides studded with small windows like a medieval castle. By the road side are Buddhist drawings cut into the rock.

At the confluence of the Chandra and Bhaga rivers, the road to Kyelang crosses the Bhaga and carries on up its right bank. The junction is considered a holy spot, and we had good reason to know it—we camped there and in the early hours of the morning, hearing weird and mournful noises, we peeped out of our tents to see fantastic figures dancing around to the beat of drums and other 'musical⁵ instruments. This was a party of mourners bringing the ashes of a deceased friend to be committed to the swirling waters of the river.

The way to the holy shrine of Triloknath lies down the combined streams of the Chandra-Bhaga rivers, the upper Chenab. We passed many pilgrims and sadhus on their ways to and from the shrine, clad only in the scantiest of clothing though they have to contend with the bitter winds and blizzards usually met with on the Rohtang pass. We ourselves had only run into a slight snow-storm on the top.

The approach to Kyelang is very attractive, through fields dotted with Chortens and Mane walls and a number of Gompas perched on the mountain spurs. We arrived just in time to climb another 1,000 feet, and see the Lama dancing, the orchestra, actors, and dancers all being the Lamas of the Kyelang Monastery. On the terrace above the dancing, the visitors from the surrounding valley were provided with refreshments and local brewed beer, and two policemen maintained at Kyelang by the Government were in attendance to watch over those who drank—not wisely but too well—and found themselves in difficulties getting home along the precipitous paths.

The Lahoulis are an honest, peace-loving people, Hindu, Moslem, and Buddhist living happily in their various valleys, and never bothering to lock their houses when they leave them. The women dress attractively and wc;ir a little plate of gold, silver, or copper on the back of the head like a halo, with two large turquoise or pieces of amber on the temples. The men wear little pill-box hats made of cloth, nearly always decorated with wild flowers.

The Thakur, who is the ruler of the state, honoured us by an invitation to lunch. We ate sitting on cushions on the floor, each with a small decorated lacquer table before him, and Chinese or Tibetan bowls as dishes, and after lunch we met the Thakur's wife, a delightful little lady in full ceremonial attire and a wonderful head-dress. We were shown round the palace which, like all the dwellings in Lahoul, is built primarily to withstand the rigours of winter at 10,000 feet. During the cold months all families live in an inner room surrounded by store-rooms and warmed by a large fire in an earthern firepot arrangement. The cattle live below, and for about four months no movement outside the house is possible owing to the depth of snow, which has to be cleared off the housetops to avoid the danger too much weight would occasion. For economic reasons half the population go down to the plains for the winter, and the other half for the summer months.

III

During July and August 1938 I was able to make an expedition up to Kargil in Ladakh. We went by the usual route through Dras but returned from Kargil to Dras up the Suru valley as far as Sanko and over the range by the Umba La. The route is not well known and a short description may be of use to travellers though of course it is mentioned in the various route-books and guides to Kashmir.

While at Kargil we visited the Lalun (Hamoting) La, about 10 miles to the east. From the pass there is a magnificent view across the Indus valley to the high peaks of the Karakoram range, and I turned back with regret for it is the nearest I approached to the Karakorams.

Leaving Kargil, instead of carrying on across the bridge on the road to Leh, one follows the left bank of the Suru river, through wooded glades on to shaly slopes and down again into wooded glades. We camped at Tsalis Kot and thence made Sanko. The village had suffered severely a few days before, when a mud avalanche had demolished many houses and damaged the crops during a heavy thunderstorm. I promised to report their plight to the Resident, and did so on my return, but I never heard whether the unfortunate village received any assistance from the Kashmir Government or not.

At Sanko I came across a lad who was 'syce' to a brother-officer in Simla. Quite a number of these villagers go to the hill-stations of India for employment, and every three or four years or so make the long journey home on leave.

I discovered later that I missed a fine view of the Nun Kun group (23,000 feet) by not going one march beyond Sanko, up the Suru, towards Parkatse. As it was we set off up the Umba La, a hot and thing climb, starting from Sanko. Although it is about 14,500 feet there is no snow and no water in the summer-time. From the summit there is grand panorama to the south and east with the peaks of Nun Kun just showing and the Zanskar range in the distance. From the top there is a steep descent into a pleasant grassy valley with water and an excellent place to camp at Lobar (where we found wild rhubarb in abundance, a welcome addition to the menu). Marmots were plentiful in this valley and a source of great attraction to the roan spaniel Mickie; during my complete journeying I covered some 300 miles on foot, but Mickie must have done at least four times that distance.

Gentian were in full bloom at this time up in the valleys above Dras and were a lovely sight. A point of interest at Dras, which perhaps the majority of travellers miss, is the meteorological station maintained near the post office and managed by the Postmaster, which must be one of the highest meteorological stations in the world, 10,600 feet above sea-level. Readings of the wind directions and speed, barometer, rain gauge, &c., are transmitted daily by telegraph on the line which runs from Srinagar to Leh.

We made one other small excursion off the main route to climb to the summit of the ridge above Saribal and look south to Kolahoi peak and down on the Kolahoi glacier and the west Liddar watershed. Saribal is about midway between Baltal and Sonamarg. It is a fairly stiff ascent—nothing difficult. I had to hurry at the end as clouds were gathering, and before I could get my camera into action, the peak of Kolahoi had been partly hidden.

From all of this you can judge there is much to see off the main track of the Kashmir-Ladakh road, that one can enjoy without having to be a climber in the strict sense of the word.

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