ON SKIS IN KULLU, 1976

JOHN A. JACKSON

PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SKIING in the Himalaya over a long period of time and the Ski Club of India was first formed in 1926. Presently the most definitive book on skiing in that part of the world is Skis in India written by Major H. C. (Charles) Bagot (now Lord Bagot) who was Chief Instructor of Skiing at the R. A. F. Centre in Kashmir when I was Chief Instructor of Mountaineering.¹

Whilst trekking and travelling in various sections of the Himalaya, Eileen and I, whenever possible, have also skied. This has been on the glaciers in the Everest area, on the flanks of Trisul in Garhwal and in Thajiwas, the Valley of Glaciers in Kashmir. We were also fortunate to ski with the India-Tibet Border Police on the Kullu-Lahaul divide and later to be involved in the running of the first Kullu Summer Ski Festival in the Rani nala.

 

One outcome of that involvement was that later we suggested to Harish Sarin that a National Ski Federation of India be formed. Through his influence it was and for many years now it has been affiliated to F. I. S. (The International Ski Federation). During a recent visit to Kullu, we again met several of the skiers from the Border Police and the Mountaineering Institute with whom we had skied and run the ski festival. It was good to discover that since that time, government finance had helped with ski developments in the Solang valley above Manali. In addition, during the 1990's Swiss and American firms have developed Heli skiing on the Rohtang and the Hampta la. These are big changes from the earlier times when we had to carry our skis from Madhi to reach the passes.

Camping at Madhi

Following a stay at Jimmy Johnson's orchard, we went to find the Western Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (W. H. M. I.) in Manali. Harish Sarin, President of the Indian Mountaineering Foundation was keen that we met Harnam Singh, the Principal of the Institute and see some of the buildings of the new centre. Fortunately, as it turned out, we were given incorrect information on how to find the W. H. M. I. and when we arrived at the waterfalls of Rahla beyond Manali, we realised we were a long way astray. We decided we might as well carry on despite having to frequently negotiate the rubble of recent landslides and the angular hardcore of the road repairs that were in operation. Up and up we went continuing to twist and turn along the road to the Rohtang la. In several places the road had been completely swept away by avalanches, leaving rutted boulder strewn sections that threatened to turn us back. At one desperately steep and rocky turn we lost three mudflaps, a reversing light and our backstep, but on we went. Soon we began to edge our way through narrow snow cuttings and as the sides of our vehicle scraped the snow, we gazed up the sides of the cutting rising fifteen feet above us. This already narrow and dangerous route had been made more difficult by frequent meetings with large flocks of sheep and goats tended by the Kangra shepherds who kept us waiting poised over frightening depths whilst they moved the animals to one side.

'Let's turn back' suggested Eileen and I agreed we would, if after the cutting there was no improvement. When we did finally emerge, the improvement to the road was negligible but the improvement to our morale immense.

This was because on the snow slopes that rose eight hundred to a thousand feet above the left bank of the river, two separate groups of people were skiing. This was totally unexpected. Going over to the first group we found they were an advanced ski course from W. H. M. I. Manali. A little higher up the slope, the second group of skiers were performing some elegant up-unweighted Christianas. This was a party of India-Tibet Border Police (I. T. B. P.) from the Garhwal Himalaya, there to gain further experience in the mountains of Kullu. Bhagat Singh, an Inspector of the Police, told us that his party, and that of the W. H.M. I. were camped a few hundred feet above at the village of Madhi. 'There is plenty of room. Do camp near us.' This invitation became almost an entreaty when he found we had our skis with us and off we went to set up our tent.

Above us was the Rohtang La, the boundary between Kullu and Lahaul, said to have been created by Lord Shiva who smote through the mountain barrier to create the pass. William Moorcroft, a surgeon from Liverpool, who eventually became an indefatigable Himalayan traveller and explorer, first calculated the height of the Rohtang when he crossed it in 1820 and built a stone cairn to mark the source of the river Beas.

By road distance Madhi is 21 km from the top of the Rohtang la and at the time it was the furthest that any vehicles could go. The pass was still blocked by heavy winter snows and did not open for normal traffic for another seven weeks (mid-July) long after we had left Kullu. Even so, this superb snow area around the Rohtang and the Hampta la became our mountain home for the next two weeks.

Snowbeds were melting quickly on the 'alps' around Madhi, a small village of a dozen or so stone dwellings. Already roofs of corrugated iron were replacing those destroyed by an avalanche earlier in the year. Where we camped, a fresh green spread of short grass contrasted with the clean snows of the mountains and whilst we sat drinking tea the increasing warmth of the sun seeped into our bodies. We realised that here we had found a place of peace and beauty. A soft murmuring of running water emanated from a dirty white bed of snow nearby and clumps of pink primula pushed through the snow to reach for the sky and light of day. Within days our 'alp' was profusely carpeted with an abundance of other Himalayan flora - purple iris, white anemones and the rich gold of burgeoning sulphur - yellow wild flowers.

The Rohtang La and the Rani Nala

Our first ski with the W. H. M. I. and I. T. B. P. was very interesting as we side-stepped and herring-boned up a steep slope above the Madhi bridge. Turning round we were aware of many watching eyes as we paused momentarily then swooped down to the Beas river as gracefully as we could. Mostly it was old snow made bumpy by wet avalanche sloughs and in places narrow, so that I used a variety of turns - mainly short swings in the narrows and Welen technique in the rough to absorb the bumps. Straightaway both ski groups were intrigued and keen to find out as much as possible about us and our different way of skiing. Wedeln, short swings and Welen they had never seen before.

'What do they call this way of skiing?' asked Ran Singh.

'How can we learn?' queried Misra.

'Do show us' demanded Bhagat Singh - and so for the next two weeks I did.

Each day, either at the snow beds, sometimes in the two mile long avalanche nala, the Rani, or on the top of the Rohtang la, I gave two or more hours of instructions. This was to the I. T. B. P. I derived immense satisfaction from teaching such fine mountain men. Most had climbed to the summits of some of the world's highest mountains - Saser Kangri, Shivling and Nanda Kot to name but a few. I still feel great satisfaction that during our stay in Kullu I was known as the 'Guru' or 'Guruji' the teacher.^* In the afternoons following the tuition, we then free skied the magnificent slopes of the Pir Panjals and on the third day we were joined by Lill Bahadur and Dorje, two Chief Constables, who with an Indian team had just made the first ski descent of Trisul, 23,500 ft (7158 m). They had been the first pair to ski down from the summit and I remembered seeing this mountain in Garhwal during an expedition I had been on years earlier in 1952.

* Apart from being a qualified ski instructor I was at the time a Senior Coach of the British Ski Federation.

I had photographed its massive snow covered flanks from high passes on the way to Joshimath and the source of the Ganges. As Lill Bahadur described their ski descent I also thought of Dr. Tom Longstaff and evenings spent with him at Achiltibui in Scotland. In 1907 Longstaff had been the first man ever to reach the summit of Trisul after a remarkable ascent of 6000 ft (1830 m) in one day. For many years it remained the highest ascent made in the Himalaya. Now it was a privilege, 70 years later to be with two men who had made its first descent on ski. In 1981 whilst climbing in the outer Sanctuary of Nanda Devi I was delighted to ski at 20,000ft (6100 m) on Trisul — a link with the I. T. B. P. and our ski days in Kullu.

A wide climatic depression covered most of northern India during the first ten days that we skied, depositing five or six inches of new snow in the late afternoons and evenings. Because of the weather, the Kangra shepherds were unusually late in crossing the high passes to Lahaul and Spiti and generally they found the conditions to be a trial. Rather selfishly we skiers welcomed the snow, enjoying our skiing on the various slopes and at the Rohtang la. After a good ski at the pass we used to have an afternoon break for a mug of tea at the 'Rohtang View Hotel'. This was a low stone shack, roofed with canvas which stood just below the pass. The proprietor came from Lahaul and from a battery of pots, pans and kettles he produced a variety of hot beverages. Other containers held 'chang' or 'rakshi' of which the I. T. B. Police consumed little. Hot tea was their favourite drink often helping to wash down a quickly prepared chapatti cooked on the acrid smelling charcoal embers. At frequent intervals the driving snow outside swirled into the 'shack' as the sacking that made for the door was twitched to one side. In might step a lively Lahauli trader, a traditionally dressed Kangra shepherd, or an inadequately clothed Hindu Pilgrim. Each time there was plenty of banter and questioning for our skis proved to be a source of interest and wonder to all who saw us.

Eileen was a constant focus of interest and our friends the police were immensely proud to have her with them. Quickly she used to build up a happy relationship with everyone, would have them helping her in all sorts of ways and was greatly respected. At this time she was skiing strongly and at the end of the day we sometimes made a swift swooping descent of the Rani nala which after three to four miles led us back to the bridge at Madhi. It was broad and steep and we came to know its bumps and turns very well.

Following the day's activities, our evenings at Madhi varied but almost always we paid a visit to the camp of the I. T. B. P. One evening we shared with the skiers of the Mountaineering Institute as well as the police and after liberal quantities of curry, chang and rakshi there was singing, and also dancing of a kind remarkably Greek in style. As was to be expected the songs were of the mountains for these were mountain men - songs of Garhwal, Kangra, Punjab, Kashmir, Nepal - and one, a song of praise for the skiers of Trisul, Dorje and Lill Bahadur. Ran Singh, the chief ski instructor at the W. H. M. I., made bold by drinking chang, sang a strangely evocative song. Again it was music from the hills, this time from his Kangra home. We asked what the song was about and to our surprise found that he made up the words as he went along. It was a lament about the weather and the lack of sun, the early monsoon, the heavy clouds and the cruelty of their persistent appearance.

At the end of the first week of skiing we met Harnam Singh, Principal of the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. The police were joined by Chandra Khanna (Assistant Commissioner) who had been deputy leader on the first ascent of Saser Kangri, 25,300 ft in the Karakoram Himalaya. These two were starting to organise the Kullu Summer Ski Festival to be held one week later. We were asked to help. Having said we would, we were immediately taken aback by being asked to choose the venue but with little hesitation we chose the Rani nala and the Rani it was.

The Kullu Summer Ski Festival

Following so much persistent cloud and snow, everyone was pleased that the big day proved sunny and warm. The fresh white snow that had fallen during the previous two weeks contrasted strongly with the green grassy slopes at the bottom of the nala and the deep blue sky above. Much to our surprise, over 750 people came from Shimla, Bilaspur, Manali, Kullu, Mandi and from as far away as Delhi to watch the racing. Early in the morning they arrived at Madhi over old snowbeds and across the steep hillside to the Rani. This show of enthusiasm by the Indians for a newly developing sport in their country was impressive as were the brightly coloured saris of purple, yellow, red, blue, orange and emerald green worn by many graceful Indian women who enhanced the scene.

During practice a few days earlier, we realised that the local idea of a Downhill race was a straight 200 yard run down a steep slope and through a tape. Such a course required no technique and with a good pair of skis the heaviest man, even if he couldn't ski very well, providing he stayed upright long enough, was bound to win. On the race day I changed this concept to the correct one and set the downhill course for the seven advanced skiers. It was almost one and a half miles in length and included three large sweeping turns. I also changed the slalom when I found Ran Singh setting seventy-two poles up the slope in a dead straight line. Can you imagine skiing such a vertical course!

Whilst Eileen organised herself as a judge and timekeeper, I set a proper slalom showing Ran Singh how he should start from the top and work downwards. He and the others were puzzled by my varied positioning of the gates which were set to present technical problems and yet provide an essentially pleasing and rhythmical course. To our satisfaction and that of the skiers, the slalom proved exciting and interesting and the problems in technique gave them a thirst for more. Intermediate and advanced skiers vied for places but in the end those we expected to win did so and most of the first, second and third placings were taken by the India-Tibet Border Police. Lill Bahadur won the Downhill handsomely and with a cheerful refreshing modesty that was typical of the day. Ran Singh from the W. H. M. I. set the Giant Slalom and then proceeded to win the event. I pointed out to him that this was not allowed in racing but who could care when he and everyone there, including those he had beaten were ecstatic with delight at his success. Ang Tharkey, brother-in-law of Tensing Norgay of Everest, won the slalom and vindicated my confidence in his ability. Prior to our first meeting he had only experienced a fifteen day beginners ski course in Darjeeling. For the two weeks I was his 'Guru' he showed himself to be the most able pupil I had ever taught, picking up new skills with remarkable ease. Against opposition we persuaded the Festival Committee to allow Ang Tharkey to race with the advanced skiers and though he fell in the Downhill, he came third in the Giant Slalom, then skied deceptively smoothly and fast to win the slalom by seconds. Perhaps of them all, his was the best achievement.

Each race, and every competitor, was given a fine ovation by the enthusiastic crowd which in the main sat on a grassy moraine. Not far away we set up our large 'Good Companion' tent with its extended fysheet and not for the first time it proved its versatility, for all afternoon it was used as the tea tent. Inside it, huge multi-jetted kerosene stoves boiled gallons of water which threatened to melt the fabric whilst busy helpers dispensed chai and biscuits to all the spectators at the ski festival. Everyone, young and old, thoroughly enjoyed the highly successful and festive day.

In the late afternoon General Bakshi of the National Cadet Corp., who had journeyed up from Delhi, presented trophies to the skiers at the foot of the nala. Above us the sun glistened on the snows at the top of the Rohtang and the Humpta passes, whilst small groups of mountain choughs gave sharp clear calls which resounded from the crags. It was as if they too were adding their congratulations to that of the spectators below. The day ended when in the evening over a hundred of us sat around an aromatic campfire of sandalwood singing songs from the northern hills and listened to several speeches expressing hope and encouragement for the future of skiing in Kullu, and the rest of India.

SUMMERY

Recollections a visit to Kullu in 1976.

 

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