Exploring the Neora Valley

Chinmoy Chakrabarti


Trekking through the dense Himalayan Terai forest and climbing steep slopes on the way, can be quite tedious. Your eyes do not get the visual relief that you normally find in a trekking expedition. You have to concentrate on the path in front of you, the sight cannot wander. It’s a regimented, straightjacket kind of thing. Your surroundings and even the sky are canopied by thick foliage and all you see are big moss laden tree trunks, so huge that a single man alone cannot encircle those. The trekker sometimes looses the sense of enjoyment and time. He just trudges ahead. And that’s exactly what I was doing on this path.

One calls this trail a ’path’ only for want of a better term. Bamboo trees form most of this lower mountain dense foliage where a small clearing, about a foot wide, has been literally snatched from the forest to create a path. It was made for the patrolling of the forest guards and now we were marching on it.

The trail goes beneath big Rhododendron trees, about 75 m high. Rain water while rushing down the mountain, leaves behind a trenched uneven path, curved out of the mountain wall; it looks like as if somebody had trudged many times on this path before.

Joseph, our guide, tells us about the forest, where wild animals roam; when apparitions appear and disappear, people who were lost without any traces. Well, personally, I would be happy to bump into an apparition but the same cannot be said about an encounter with wild animals that roam around - leopard, boars, wild dogs, black bears and even tigers, to name a few. But Joseph assures me, ‘Sir, do not fear; none of the animals harm except the Himalayan black bear’. Then he adds as a soothing after-thought, ‘In this forest, there are lots of Himalayan black bear’. His soothing observation keeps us really moving ahead!

Bijan and Asoke walk ahead; Pratik and Biswarup, are coming up behind with Joseph. I am in the middle. All of us, except Biswarup, are above fifty years of age. Most of us have some trekking experience but Asoke Chanda - a former first division football player of Kolkata football leagues is a first time trekker.

Being on his first trek, Asoke has to prove that he can really move well on difficult terrain and I must admit, he has done well so far. Even then, I must be close to him. So I start to climb fast and turning a bend I can see them. Bijan has climbed on to a wall to take a picture and Asoke is standing beneath him on the path.

As I come near, I see Asoke transfixed and crying; tears streaming down his cheeks. I am worried. Something must have happened. Moving fast I approach him. Asoke turns to look at me and says simply,

‘Even in my wildest dream, I have never imagined that some day I will be beholding such beauty. Thank you Chinmoy’.

Following his gaze, I looked upon a flaming red mountain wall - dotted with pink and white. An entire wall of the mountain is covered by blooming Rhododendron flowers and around this riot of colours are all the shades of green that you can imagine. Through this resplendent foliage I could see a grey sky overhead, torn in places where it’s blue colour peeps through.

The beginning: It all started 25 years ago in the year 1982, when Himalayan Club along with Zoological Survey of India, Department of Botany, Calcutta University, West Bengal Forest Development Corporation and Indian army organised an expedition - first of it’s kind, to the then uncharted Neora valley forest of the Terai Himalaya in West Bengal. That was an epic expedition, much of which has been forgotten. A report by Capt. (later colonel) Ajit Dutta, a copy of which was presented by Kisore Chaudhury - the project coordinator of the expedition, to the Kolkata section of the Himalayan Club, still exists. . Kamal Guha was expedition leader and Capt. Ajit Dutta was the transport Officer. The team consisted of 17 members and 35 porters.1
After a few days of trekking, the impossibility of an expedition in the Neora valley forest was accepted by the then leadership and the expedition was declared abandoned. But according to the report, two members of the team Capt. Ajit Dutta and. Kisore Chaudhury and later supported by K K Rastogi of Botany Department, Calcutta University, refused to abandon the expedition and with the permission of the leader embarked on a nearly impossible, suicidal attempt to complete the expedition. They were supported by Bist - an army Jawan and two porters - Kazi Tamang and Shibu Thami.

It was a Herculean effort and they lost their way on the second day (predictable in such an uncharted terrain) and survived on boiled curcurbits and bichu leaves (a black leaf with thorn all over; touching it feels like being bitten by a scorpion). Rastogi, the botanist commented at this point, ‘If we can eat bichu leaves, then I am sure I can eat anything.’

The expedition from Lava, the roadhead, started on 23 November 1982 and the three musketeers launched their three man expedition on 3 December. They came out of the forest, exhausted, dehydrated and famished, on 10 December, thus completing the expedition.

As an outcome of this expedition and with sustained campaign later to save its pristine character, Neora valley was declared a national park in 1992.

Our five-member trekking team, are trying to cross the Neora valley on the eve of the silver jubilee of that expedition. Of course, we will be trekking on a well defined path from Lava, the roadhead and wish to come out at Samsing - a quaint hamlet at the foothill, on the other side of the valley in a five-day trek.

Since Neora valley is a National Park, there are official hurdles in the way of getting permission to trek. My posting as a bureaucrat in the state helped and on reaching Lava, the main roadhead, on 15 April 2006, Lava’s forest range officer helped us to acquire permits on payment of fees. He also arranged for the porters, the guide and the transportation to Chaudopheri -- the roadhead and the starting point of our trek.

Initially we had planned to trek to Chaudopheri from Lava, a distance of 14 km, on a lovely path through the forest. But our initial calculation proved to be wrong. We had planned camps at Chaudopheri, Alubari, Rechela top or Jorpokhri, and Mauchaki. On the fifth day we planned to reach Samsing in time for catching the train to Kolkata the next evening. But Sannyasi Giri, the range officer, told us, in Neora valley we could not trek to Mouchaki from Rechela top, a distance of 45 km, in a day. We would need to stop at Bhottekharag, 15km ahead of Mauchaki and we may also have to camp between Rechela top and Bhottekharag, in case of rain. So not only did we reschedule our night halts but also had to find a tent which he provided.

Even today there are places in the Neora valley where man has not yet set foot and no scientific studies have been conducted. Our only hope was our guide - Joseph Lepcha, who is the best guide around and who modestly claimed that he has traversed this trail at least 50 times.

16 April
With our rucksacks, gunny bags, PVC drums and 13 members - including guide and porters, we were quite a large party. To make room for us, all goods were loaded on the roof of the Jeep. But as the Jeep started to move, rucksacks and bags started to rain down from the Jeep-roof. Pratik was entrusted to supervise the loading. He just threw up his hands in disgust and perhaps in helpless resignation! Joseph had to take over and did it with élan.

As we left the concrete jungle of Lava, we could hear birds call - but could not sight them. Here trees are blessed with dense foliage. It was indeed a beautiful trail through the forest. The gradient was so steep on some patches that we had to disembark so that our jeep could negotiate the ascent. I used that opportunity to take a few ‘birds’ view’ photographs of Lava.

The cobbled road is so beautiful that I christened it Urvashi Sarani (Urvasi was the heavenly courtesan and Sarani - road). But that name applies only if one treks on this trail. But if one covers it in a jeep like us then the trail becomes Udayshankar Sarani (Udaysankar was a famous classical dancer) - you toss and break into involuntarily dance while desperately latching on to some hold for dear life! It took one and half hours to cover a distance of 14 km.

At Chaudopheri (2372 m), the first forest check post, our permits were checked and leaving the drums and gunny bags behind for the ponies we started our trek. The gradient was benign, about 30o-40o but the first day’s trek is always difficult. Moreover, from the very beginning the dense foliage of the forest engulfed us. It was midday but there were hardly any light. The dense bamboo jungle ensured that harsh light does not enter to disturb the eeriness of the jungle. It was fine with me except that I did not have enough clearing and lighting to take decent photographs.

It took us almost five hours to cover the distance of 16 km from Chaudopheri to Alubari. Most of it was through dense forest and the rest was through undulating valley. Near the camp, standing on the ridge with mountain walls as the backdrop, I saw rolling green hills sloping gently towards the middle of the valley where the fierce Neora river flows down.

In the late eighties, Alubari was a forest village where mainly potatoes (alu) were cultivated and the village was thus named Alubari (home of potatoes). When Neora valley was declared a National Park, the village was relocated outside the park area.

The forest camp here boasts of two rooms, one kitchen and to our surprise not one but two toilets - well that was luxury! Pratik went to sleep and Bijan, our quarter master, supervised our tea and dinner. That left three of us - Asoke, Biswarup and me, who just lazed around.



17 April

It was a beautiful morning. In the east, I could see the steep trail to Jorphokhri or Rechela top (3170 m) -the highest point of this trek, the tri junction of Bhutan, Sikkim and West Bengal which is our destination today. It is indeed a steep trail but fortunately only 8 km long.

The dense bamboo forest was at a lower elevation and now the route was through a Rhododendron forest. The incline was steep, about 400-500. Though this is primarily a Rhododendron forest, we also saw oaks, ferns and orchids (Piptanthus napalenis and Pleione humilis). Here the Rhododendron trees were huge, about 75 m high.

It was April, the trees were in full bloom. In this valley I have seen mainly Rhododendron arboruem and Rhododendron barbatum. On the lower elevation, I have also seen some Rhododendron Dalhousie and Rhododendron Lindley.

Walking slowly devour the beauty, the smell and the colour around me. Green has so many shades here - light green, deep green, blackish green and in the lap of this overwhelming green shades red, pink, blue and white were the apostrophes. It was a natural kaleidoscope.

The silence that reigned here was all pervading and I could hear the sound of a falling leaf and the rustle of leaves when a gentle breeze passes through them, playing with them and teasing them.

As the canopy overhead prevents sun rays to penetrate, trunks of huge trees were full of moss. This light and shade along with the moss ridden trees give an ancient appearance to this forest. One fears to tread on this path lest one disturbs the meditative forest.

The air is full of oxygen and so light that one has no difficulty in breathing and consequently in trekking. The smell of the forest also pervaded my senses; somewhere it was too strong and in other places it just wafted towards me, touched me so softly that I could hardly smell it.

Some one kilometre before Jorepokhri, a track goes down towards a Sikkimese village - Renok. From Renok one can trek to Jorepokhri and back in a day. We reached Jorpokhri around noon.

Jorpokhri or Rechela top (3170 m) is a mountain table-top surrounded by blooming Rhododendron trees with two very shallow ponds (Pokhri) in the middle. Rain water accumulates in such shallow ponds in the mountain and since water is a rare commodity here, all such ponds are revered - Jorepokhri being no exception; one cannot bath in its water. Locals come here to worship.

A small trekkers hut with a tin roof stands on one side of the table-top in splendid isolation. The toilet is unusable. But one can have the luxury of lying on wooden cots which are just waiting to take exhausted trekkers like our Pratik who promptly slumped on it.

While lunch was on the way I had a chat with Joseph Lepcha, our 36-year old guide who works in the forest department as a casual worker since 1992. Even after working for 14 years there is hardly any chance of a permanent job and he earns around only Rs. 3000/- a month. I was quite interested in his numerous sojourns to this wild country. He said that he had seen animals several times. When asked whether he had ever encountered danger, he related this incident : ‘Once. on the track I met a Himalayan black bear. I only had an umbrella in my hand. I opened it to threaten the bear but it barked like a dog and attacked me. Leaving the umbrella, I ran like hell’.

Though forest department claims there are 15-20 tigers in Neora Valley National Park (NVNP), nobody that I met had so far sighted one. Some have seen tiger kill and pug marks.

Neora valley forest is a virgin forest; some of its tract is yet to be scientifically explored. Until 1706, Neora valley was under the King of Sikkim and then the King of Bhutan conquered it. In 1864, Neora valley came under the British rule and after more than 100 years, in 1986, the Government of West Bengal announced its intention of declaring the Neora Valley biosphere as a National Park. The actual declaration was made six years later, in 1992.

This 8800 hectare National park has a vast altitude difference, ranging from 180 m to 3200 m and so is a vast repository of Himalayan flora and fauna, some of which are highly endangered.

31 species of mammals including rare animals like Red Panda, Wild Dog, Flying Squirrel, Clouded Leopard, Himalayan Black bear, Himalayan Tahr; 79 species of birds including Monal, 276 species of insect and 38 species of other invertebrates are found here. 15 species of highly endangered mammals, which are in the ‘Red Book’ of IUCN, are also found here.

Sitting on the grassy patch outside the trekker’s hut, I was lost in thought, when it started to rain. The evening had silently crept in. This was a bad omen. Though the sky had been overcast over the last two days, it had not rained. Trekking in Neora valley is itself a difficult job at the best of times; trekking in rain would be really difficult. As night fell, the rain became a hailstorm and thereafter it turned into a heavy shower. With the rain came cold and dampness. We settled in our sleeping bags accompanied by the pitter-patter of the rain on the tin roof.

18 April
It was early morning; I came out of the tin shed. The rain had reduced to a drizzle. After a cup of hot tea, I was off to Rechela Danda, the highest point of this trek, where borders of Sikkim, Bhutan and West Bengal merge. It is just about 60 m up from the tin shed but the track was muddy and slippery.

I stood facing the east on the Rechela Danda. All around me rolling hills merged into the horizon. In front of me was Bhutan; Sikkim mountains blocked the northwest and on my back, on the southeast, was West Bengal.

As I turned to look behind, I was happy to see a carpet of flaming red Rhododendron flowers covering the entire wall of the mountain. I could have leapt from my high point and the red carpet would catch me and would gently lower me on to the meadow below.

I shifted a little to the south to look at the twin ponds. Their banks too were covered with blooming Rhododendron flowers. Nature has bedecked Jorpokhri with infinite care and perseverance.

We started to trek in the rain towards Bhottekharag camp on the banks of Bhote khola, about 30 km away. We would have lunch at Rechela camp, 8 km ahead.

The trail goes through dense forest of Rhododendron and Oak. Gentle ascents and descents greeted us along with rain and mud. The trail became difficult with a steep descent (600-700), slippery steps and to top it all, torrential rain. Coming out of a bend, we were glad to reach Rechela camp (2782 m) on a small clearing in the middle of the dense forest.We were soaked to the bone and had to change. Sitting next to the oven in the kitchen was the only respite from the shivering cold.

Bhottekharag was still more than 20 km away. It was raining hard and the route ahead was difficult. So we might not have been able to reach Bhottekharag before evening and might have to spend the night under the tarpaulin tent. This would not be fun in heavy rain and with dangerous wild animals snooping around.

So we decided to wait a little in the hope that the rain may stop or reduce. But the downpour continued it became apparent that we had to stay in the Rechela camp. This would be an extra day that we had not calculated. Now in the changed circumstances, we would have to reach Samsing from Bhottekharag in a day and would not be able to spend a night at Mauchaki camp. Joseph said that it was possible as Samsing is only 20 km from Bhotekharag and though the first part of the trail is difficult the later part is a mountain road.

After lunch and a little siesta, I had a chat with the forest guards beside a camp fire under a plastic sheet; in front of the wooden camp.

In NVNP all forest camps are built on the only path that crosses the park. Since there is virtually no other trail except this one poaching is rare. But still forest guards are alert. In fact during my entire trek I did not see any sign of tree felling or hunting. As the forest cover is dense in NVNP, the chances of sighting an animal is almost zero unless it crosses your path.

Though we were the first to start walking, our army of porters would soon overtake us. They were more interested in dumping their loads than pondering over the beauty of the forest and definitely not interested in encountering wild life. So they all went boisterously and after they had trampled on the path, all animals simply vanished.

We have seen lots of orchids, fungi and a few birds (Black headed Oriole, Chestnut headed Bee eater etc). There are four forest guards in this camp; another two guard the Orchid camp (2278 m), a few kilometres down the hilly slope. It’s a lonely life here. Their constant companion is an old radio.

19 April

As I woke up at 4.00 a.m. it was still dark outside. The rain had not stopped but it was now gently falling from the leaves. We had to leave early today

I turned back from the fringes of the camp to have a last look at the small wooden structure that had sheltered us from the ferocity of the elements. All the guards waved at us biding good bye. They had shared their home and hearth with us without the slightest hesitation or resentment. As I turned on the bend, the forest gobbled me up and they were gone.

On the trail I was hungry. So I sat down on a fallen tree trunk to eat. I had no idea how far ahead Bijan, Asoke and Biswarup had progressed or how far behind Joseph and Pratik were.

The forest was eerily silent. I could hear the sound of falling raindrops through the leaves. Sitting on the tree trunk, I began to listen to the song of silence. But I had to move ahead and complete this difficult and miserable trek.

Utterly exhausted, totally drenched, I started to slog along and at this point I realised that I was lost. As I went down steeply towards a Jhora (stream) I found the track ahead closed with the densest forest that I have ever seen. I froze with fear as I realised that I was lost in one of the most inhospitable terrains on earth. I scampered back to the fallen tree trunk where I was sitting a few moments ago. The loneliness and the silence was overbearing. I lost my cool completely and started shouting. repeatedly. There was no answer. Numb with fear, my only hope was for Joseph who was coming up behind.

Anytime a Himalayan black bear might appear and I was too tired to run; moreover I did not know in which direction to go. The next 15 minutes felt like a lifetime. I just fixed my sight on to the path through which Joseph was supposed to emerge. Finally I beheld the most beautiful sight of my life : Joseph coming down the slope.

With fumbling steps I started to walk again but the trail was difficult as I had to negotiate a number of steep and slippery descents. Few kilometres ahead, I had a bird’s eye view of Murti river meandering through the plain and then camp Maple - relief from this grueling trek.

Maple camp, a wooden structure of three rooms was established in 1996 at 1950 m. It was the biggest forest camps that we had seen so far.


20 April
The five-day trek would be over today. We were happy as we had had doubts about our ability to complete this difficult trek.

Today’s path was said to be full of leeches. Tobacco leaves soaked in water were applied abundantly on ones feet as these are said to prevent leech attacks. As we trekked a few feet from camp, it became evident that today’s stretch was bereft of any track. Until yesterday, however narrow, there was a track. The forest had simply swallowed the track and in this dense foliage millions and millions of leeches just waited to attack. No amount of wet tobacco leaves were going to save us from the army of leeches.

We started to run down the steep, slippery descent. At some stretches the descent was almost vertical. We were damn lucky not to fall hard.

It had become a monotonous trek. Everywhere there were dense forests. You could not see a thing. Other than some avi-fauna, we could not sight any wild life either and the downpour on two subsequent days has turned our trek to a nightmare.

Though the sky was overcast, there was no rain. We heard lots of bird-calls but did not stop to look for them, stopping on this track was a luxury we could hardly afford.

After trekking for around three hours, we came to a point where the whole track had been swept away by a land slide. There was a gap of about twelve feet. The only way to negotiate this stretch was to climb a sheer wall and traverse. Bijan was a good rock climber in his youth. So I suggested that he take the lead. But we had no rope or any anchor. So Bijan had to traverse the gap free hand - without any rope or any kind of anchor. Had he slipped, he would have fallen on a rock about twenty feet below and surely would have broken some of his bones.

As we stood with bated breath, he found some pinch holds on the rock surface and very slowly, testing his foot holds, traversed the length. I went next. But in the middle of the traverse I lost my confidence and just hung there for dear life. Bijan from one side and Asoke from the other extended their hands but both fell short by two-three feet. It became clear that I was all alone on the rock wall and self help was the only way out. So gathering all my strength I swung myself on to the other side. Asoke crossed the gap with surprising ease. Though it was his first trek at the age of fifty, he was proving to be a good trekker.

Joseph reached this point with Biswarup and took Pratik through a diversion, down below. We just looked on dumbly; some how we had missed the diversion. The risk we had taken was totally unnecessary.

At last we reached a proper road, a jeep-able road - a modern world entering the remote, virgin forest track.

Sitting on some scattered rocks on the wide road, we started to pull leeches out of our shoes and socks.

Mauchaki camp was just an hour ahead and Samsing our final destination, connected by a metallic asphalt road, was just four kilometres ahead of Mauchaki. A jeep was waiting at Mauchaki to take us to Samsing. Soon we were scampering for the bathroom on the second floor dormitory of the forest rest house at Samsing.

21 April

Coming out of my room as the dawn was breaking. As I stood on the wide balcony facing east, I could see, far away, rolling hills of Bhutan merging into the horizon. Last night’s rain has deposited fresh snow on those peaks and the first light of the day reflected the splendour. Somewhere a Doyel (Magpie Robin) started to sing. Its melodious singing wafted towards me riding on the cool, gentle, fragrant breeze. The sun came up behind those far-off hills, making the ridges stand out in silhouette against the blue sky. I was mesmerised.

Suddenly I heard a voice, near but soft like a sound coming from far off,

‘Chinmoy, please take me on to a trek on the glacier! I want to hear the sound of crunching ice under my feet! ’

I turned around. Asoke was standing next to me on the balcony, looking towards the resplendent Bhutan hills.

I could see Asoke transfixed, lost. His glazed eyes were not seeing anything. He was marching on his glacier; crunching hard ice under his feet - somewhere in the deep Himalaya.

SUMMARY

A trek in the Neora Valley National Park.