Himachal Pradesh – TRAVELTRUNK.NET

June 28, 2022July 4, 2022

A Tale of Two Veiled Valleys: Part II- Tucked Away in Tirthan

The adjoining valleys of Sainj and Tirthan, named after the rivers that drain them, are part of the Great Himalayan National Park. From Larji a left will take you up the narrow Sainj valley and a right to the bigger, wider Tirthan valley lined with orchards and dotted with scattered hamlets. Our short stay at Shangarh has proved to be worth the horrendous roads. The day hikes, the meditative meandering and just breathing the deodar scented air has us craving for an encore. While the spoon-shaped Sainj valley is still devoid of masses, Tirthan started gaining traction as an ‘off beat’ location about 5 odd years back but now is firmly on the tourist circuit with homestays galore and resorts lining the river ahead of Banjar. Jibhi has trendy cafes and a hippy vibe and the narrow road to Jalori pass has more traffic than it can handle. But tucked up and away in Tirthan Valley, beyond the bustling crowd is the village of Bihar, our second destination.

Our departure from the FRH at Shangarh is tinged with a slight sour taste when I see the caretaker dump, along with our conversations and his assurances on waste disposal, segregation etal, the garbage into a neighbouring stream. Lesson learnt. There is, in all hill stations, a burgeoning mountain of a problem of waste disposal. On that sobering note we drive off with plans to reach our homestay post lunch at Jibhi. We are spoilt for choice but our menu is on default setting… trout it has to be! The gentle drive is along the shallow Tirthan River. Hema, our host has an amused tone when she calls to ask about our whereabouts. (we are a couple of hours late) Maybe she has visions of having to organize another rescue!(She has had her share of barmy guests!)

Another road to discover passes- At the Darwaza of a Road Less Travelled

Beyond the Bustle at Bihar

From Jibhi we backtrack towards Banjar and then climb up on a deserted road winding through a forest, cross the entrance to the Shringa Rishi temple till we reach the end of the road. Janisha, a slight girl with an angelic face and solemn eyes has tagged along with Hema, her equally petite mom to help carry our luggage (I think she has heard of the furry guest) up the last 100 meters or so to their home- Tirthan Eagle Nest.

Hema and I have been connecting over the phone and here we are finally, after many false starts. Perched on the edge of the village, close to the wired trolley going right up to Myaji point, the stone and wood house is set into the slope. It is a home made with much thought and from our room window I can reach out and touch the grass! After tea we head up the path to the tiny village, past wooden sheds stacked with hay on top and with a place for the cattle below.

A homestay seeped in culture is- Dera Jaipur: A Homestay for Stellar Style and Exceptional Experiences

The houses are huddled around a clean paved square, their wooden balconies at an arm’s length from each other. Two old women gossiping on one of these stop briefly to give us a cursory look, children run around in the square and up ahead young women go about their chores around a communal tap. Young girls, their bags laden with school books are heading back to their homes somewhere on the mountainside. They point the way to Chehni Kothi. We can see the tower in the fading light. But don’t have enough daylight left to reach and be back and I’m not up to trapezing on narrow paths in the dark. Smart move!

Leaning tower of Chehni Kothi

Next morning we discover there is no straight route in the mountains to things in plain sight. We walk through flowering apple orchards and houses with wild rose bushes with paths branching up and down the slopes. We finally hit a dirt track just below Chehni village where an enterprising fellow with a tea stall is now constructing a ‘homestay’ with many rooms. He is going to be ready when the hordes drive up….till then there will be days like today when we have the place to ourselves. Two lost and frightened cows attach themselves, literally, to us, scaring me more. Their pretty owner is chatting with a woman making pattu on a hand loom. The square is deserted save a few boys. A woman with a baby tied to her back, has come to fetch water from the community tap.

The Kath-Kuni styled tower of Chehni Kothi, with its debatable antiquity, lost some of its floors in the 1905 earthquake apparently. Yet it dwarfs everything around including the Krishna temple behind and another smaller tower in front. It leans ever so slightly. The staircase to the balcony way above is carved out of a single log of wood. The makers, like sure-footed mountain goats, gave no thought to lesser mortals needing support or width. But then outsiders are not allowed to climb up. (scraping them off the floor would be messy!) The temple with carved wooden balconies looks like a mansion which has seen better days. It’s entrance is through a wooden platform jutting out of the structure. There is a courtyard inside but we can’t find the inner sanctum.

Must see mansions are to be found in – Part Two- What Not to Miss on a Weekend Vacation in Shekhawati

Be Game to Get Lost

From a makeshift eatery we take packed omelets and walk up to Myaji point. This time we stick to the wide dirt track masquerading as a road. It is lined with apple orchards with wild white and pink lilies growing in the shade. We climb into one to follow two women and their cows across the crest with a small wooden shrine and pond. The white peaks of the inner GHNP form a perfect canvas backdrop.

Lunch is followed by a snooze lolling on the grassy slope of an orchard. Its paradise! We rouse ourselves and reluctantly start back with what we think is enough daytime. From the trolley point we see our homestay below and decide to take a shortcut in the general direction of the village. After a promising start we get royally lost. At one point I have to slide down on my backside a few feet. (As opposed to flying face down) A wrong turn to follow a pipeline (has to go to a tap no?) ends in a thicket. Sense prevails; we backtrack and eventually stumble back on to the track going to Bihar. Sweet relief! Hema has thoughtfully made halwa post dinner knowing I have a fast.

Another adventure was- Tarsar Marsar : Memoirs of an Escapade

River Run

Early next morning we take a walk on an under-construction road through the deodar forest patch near the village. A fallen tree is being chopped up by the village men and they carry the logs on their backs up to the village to stock up for a feast coming up. Cultural rooting is still strong here and family functions and festivals are community affairs.

After a hearty breakfast of delicious Siddu drowned in homemade ghee we venture down the mountain to the river. The valley below is overrun with resorts and homestays. We find a deserted stretch where the river cascades over boulders, shimmies into little quiet pools to catch its breath before rushing off again.

Read another river story – Barot and the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

River birds dart around as we chill our feet and drinks in the icy water. Bliss! Later from a hippy café where we lunch we see the sky turn slate grey behind a rugged golden mountainside. Colourful houses at its base make a striking contrast. A brief shower that follows, brings welcome relief from the unusually high temperatures for spring season but it doesn’t douse out the forest fires on the slopes above. Stephen, our host at the homestay has been telling us of the combustible mix of superstition and greed that leads to these fires.

The evenings here have been spent ambling down the road leading to the village. The dusty haze has settled with the afternoon shower and there is a nip in the air. Now that the last bus has thundered back, the road is deserted. A woman walking home offers a cup of tea and I regretfully decline as I try to chase some birds in the dying light. The golden roof of the Shringa Rishi Temple glints in the last rays.

In a clearing below a wooden shrine sits next to flowering rhododendrons. The mountains are silhouetted against an ombre sky. Then as if a switch has been thrown the lights across the valley come on. The night light show is live! It can be magical when man and nature come together in harmony.

Fact File-

Getting there–

By Road-

a)Take a bus for Manali. Get off at Aut. From Aut there are buses and taxis available for Tirthan.

b) Drive from Chandigarh either through the Shimla or Bilaspur route.

Fly in-

Closest airhead is at Buntar, Kullu

Staying–

We stayed at Hema and Stephen’s home – Tirthan Eagle Nest.

There are resorts, hotels and homestays to suit all budgets.

Conscious travel tips–

Carry your own water bottles.

Eat local produce.

Ask how your hotel/homestay deals with waste.

Carry your plastics back!

May 20, 2022May 23, 2022

A Tale of Two Veiled Valleys: Part I- Shangarh’s Meadows are meant for Musing

‘I hope its worth it’ is more of a prayer than a thought on seeing the man’s tired and slightly irate face. ‘Don’t you bloggers ever write about the roads leading up to those picturesque places?’ He has just asked after being on a patchy mountain road with traffic for more than six hours which included being on dead stop in a traffic jam for an hour. Errr… apparently not! So FYI the road to Manali, and I suspect till Leh, is and will remain for some time a super mess. My morale rises in a bit when we turned off the highway and pass under the entrance gate of the Great Himalayan National Park which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The traffic peters off and the narrow road in mint condition stays that way mostly till Shangarh.

Discover a Tourmaline road in- Chushul – Chumathang – Hello Indus & Iridescent Colours!

We pass a serene lake made by the dam at the confluence of Beas and Sainj, the mountainside disappearing into its depths . Crossing the Sainj River at Larji and hugging the mountainside we make our way up the narrow valley with air scented by pine trees, wild rose bushes and traditional wooden houses clinging to the steep slopes. Reaching the Shangarh Forest Rest House (FRH) perched up and at the end of a kilometer of dirt track with tight turns is the last discordant note in the road medley of the day. Some communication gap and lots of delegation ensures that there is no dinner as spoken about in the morning at the FRH. Fortunately an overstocked food basket with us ensures we are certainly not going to go hungry tonight… or for many nights to come! Nothing like bread, cheese and wine on a bracingly cold evening!

Read about a different palate in- Satiating Nostalgia Under the Winter Rain at Junia

So Shangarh is like an amphitheatre with terraced orchards and fields dotted with houses and the FRH is placed on the highest tier. Morning sees us sipping tea and soaking in the sights from this vantage point. The apple trees are in bloom all around and birds are flitting about. The valley lies blanketed before us in what we think is morning mist but the caretaker tells us that there is a forest fire burning on the slope across. He then points out the ancient Manu Rishi temple on a sliver of an outcrop at the edge of Shanshar village across the valley. It’s 5 tiered roof catches the sun. The temple is dedicated to the fabled progenitor of the human race who gave us the Manu Smriti- the original book of laws. Snow-clad peaks in the distance make a perfect backdrop.

A temple like no other is in- Mystic Maheshwar : At the Center of the Universe

God’s Own Meadow

Later we follow him through the old wooden houses so typical of this area and new ones coming up as homestays to cater for the expected surge of tourists. We cross fields of flowering mustard, with cows and sheep grazing on grass made green by small waterfalls. Following an old woman and her herd we walk into the meadow and its unlike anything I have seen. Pristine undulating grassland ringed by mighty deodars… devoid of people almost! The breeze through the trees whispers stories of the Pandavas coming here, clearing this place of all stones save one pillar-like which juts out at an angle demarcating land meant for man and beast. The ownership of the meadow still resides with the Gods.

Discover a dying tribe of nomads in- At the Darwaza of a Road Less Travelled

We sit on the slope and behind us is another stone, covered with a metal roof, lined with cylindrical wooden trellis which play out a clickety-clack every time the breeze teases them. We reluctantly rouse ourselves to explore the meadow after basking in the warming sun and just being. The temple in the meadow is all wood and slate and the inner sanctum is surrounded by a pillared veranda. The carvings depict among other gods the 10 avatars of Vishnu. One bears a strong resemblance to Buddha?! Nearby a grove of deodars is fenced off exclusively as the abode of Gods. Trespassers will bear divine consequences. Now who would chance that!

The shiny new roof of the Shungchul Mahadev temple made in typical Kathkuni style beacons. We approach the towering temple from the back as it sits tightly hemmed in by houses and fields ringed with fruiting trees and gape as we turn to the front. Its made of stone and wood, its wooden facade all carved, rising about three storey’s high with two wooden balconies. The original structure burnt down about seven years back but a replica has been resurrected . The only thing that survived from the original temple was the palanquin…and it is much needed!

Discover the temples of- Part Two -The Old Gold in Outstanding Orchha

The evening goes in a stroll near the FRH crossing gushing streams, apple orchards surrounded by deodar trees , small cottages and camps catering to the young tourists. The breeze has made the forest fire pick up pace and its a blazing scar zig-zaging its way down the entire face of the mountain in front.

Of Sacred Groves and Meadow Musings

Next morning with packed buns, boiled eggs and a thermos of coffee we follow a young local guide as he leads us up to Jangaon (Ganjau) Thach. It is about half way to the famous Thini Thach which is like a pilgrimage for the locals. Thach is a meadow in local parlance. The initial climb is through a deep deodar forest but the sounds of drums far below rise up clearly. The Gods are making their way back to the temple from a nearby village where they had been invited for some function. Here the deities are extremely social, visiting each other and men alike and a whole procession accompanies their palanquin. The forest is hardly silent too. Birds are chirping everywhere but as any bird watcher will tell you- size and volume is inversely proportional. Its maddening to hear but not be able spot! We make our way through small clearings, cross a rich man’s vast estate and the forest department’s nursery where, enclosed by a low stone wall, a wooden shed gives company to a flowering tree.

Explore the meadows of Kashmir in- Tarsar Marsar : A Trekker’s Take

We cross carpets of iris yet to bloom and streams, one with an arched wooden bridge right next to a small yet cascading waterfall. The crystal clear water runs off in a hurry. Just short of the Thach we come to a sacred grove. It’s a flat piece of boggy land with a variety of trees and a loopy stream. A wooden hut stands at the edge and under a tree tied with bright pieces of cloth is a trident and an assortment of metal offerings to the forest goddess including cups, plates and maybe some cutlery too. (Under another tree I spotted a battered extension cord and a wheel hub. What the Goddess needs this for, only she knows!) There is something mysterious yet magical here.

I reluctantly do the short climb to the Thach. The forest fire’s smoke is a shroud over the valley. The hazy sky, a pale version of its usual hue of blue. The snow-clad peaks around are barely visible and the cold air has a faint feeling of despondency. A lone walnut tree in the middle of the undulating grassy meadow has sprung out of and split a massive boulder into two. It tries valiantly to provide some colour with sparse red remnants of winter foliage on its branches. Tiny flowers here and there join the tree in its effort. We munch and muse over the subdued beauty of this meadow.

Since my toes are slightly done walking downhill we stick to a level ramble in the evening. Its our last night here and the temptation to use the room’s fireplace is too great to pass on and so canned baked beans and ready-to-eat pasta is our fare by the dying embers of a mellow fire. Richard Parker, the cat, on this road trip with us does not share our enthusiasm for the fire and I think of all the animals on the burning mountainside across.

Shangarh is a slice of secluded serenity meant for just being. I truly hope it stays that way.

Fact File–

Getting there:

By Road- The road from Mandi onwards is nothing more than a dirt track in patches due to of the widening work so avoid unless a)Its not your car, b) You don’t much care for your car, c)Its meant for off-roading.

By Air- The Buntar airport at Kullu is about 51 kms.

Staying:

The FRH at Shangarh can be booked online on the GHNP website.

We stayed at the FRH at Shangarh. It is clean but basic. The caretaker rustles up tea and simple fare, a bit reluctantly.

There is a Zostel, a few small homestays and tented camps.

Conscious Travelling:

Shangarh and other places in the Sainj valley are little more than overgrown hamlets. They have no system of garbage collection/disposal. Check with your hosts how they manage their waste. It will encourage proper disposal. Till then we visitors need to minimize what disposables we carry and if possible carry our non-biodegradables back!

Coming up next- A Tale of Veiled Valleys: Part II- Bihar!

February 19, 2019April 25, 2020

Barot – And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

I’ve been asked why I haven’t written about Dharamsala, my hometown, as yet. I say, very selfishly, that I don’t think Dharamsala can take any more people & I wouldn’t want to contribute to its transient population even an iota. It is no doubt breathtakingly beautiful with the Dhauladhars giving an ethereal backdrop to a sweeping panorama that is the Kangra valley but as is the problem with all hill stations, popular or obscure, there are just too many tourists, an urbanization explosion & almost no waste disposal mechanism. It all either goes down the slope or into a stream. With this toxic cocktail on every mountain top & valley one needs to find places off the grid to get a clean green high.

So during one such visit home we decide we need to get far from the maddening crowds at Dharamsala. A visit to Barot valley is long overdue so some phone calls are made. We had planned a trip there sometime back… actually more like couple of decades back! But the trip had to be cancelled last minute because some big-wig decided to go for an angling trip & given that at that time there was limited government accommodation available & that too strictly by pecking order, we were given a short shrift. (Not only appropriated our idea but our rooms too! We never forgave the nameless holiday saboteur!) The best accommodation is still with the governments – Punjab’s & Himachal’s. So be it the FRHs (Forest Rest House) or the Hydel project guest rooms with their prime locations, booking is still a chancy affair if someone in Chandigarh or Shimla decides to breathe some fresh air. Still..we managed rooms in the FRH.

So after a rather winding drive through the picturesque Kangra valley, making halts at Andretta to see the art gallery of the famous artist Sir Shobha Singh & the pottery studio run by Mansimran Singh & the tea factory of Palampur ( I love the tea grown in Palampur. It is not for everyone – a very exacting tea that requires all your attention while brewing. The reward being the most divine smokey flavoured tea but one additional minute of seeping & it turns wrathfully acidic & bitter.) we stop for the night at Bir. It has a special place in my heart. More on that another time. The next morning after a long walk through the village followed by a hearty breakfast we start for Barot. We have a word with the caretaker again (once bitten…!) & are told that lunch would be catered for & the menu mentioned makes everyone’s mouth water. If there is one thing better in the mountains than the greenery around, it is the delectable greens in the plate. Throw in that chicken on the side &…aah..bliss! We cross the Funicular trolley track in all it’s gravity defying angle near Jogindernagar to take the turn off the highway for Barot. The trolley was commissioned when the construction of the Shanan Hydel project started. It is still in some sort of use this side of the slope but on the other, near Barot, it looks decidedly neglected.

More food tales from the hills in- Disconnecting with the World on a Mountain Isle at Shaama

We take a break after climbing a bit at a turn with a bus stand and flat ground. There is a massive Chinar tree & a herd of the biggest goats I’ve ever seen with shaggy coats & twisted horns, more satyr than goats, resting under the deodars & I marvel at their good genes & diet. We chance upon this clearing with the barest remnants of a bungalow which would be anyone’s dream house location even now.

Read about a run in with another goat in- Pangong Tso – The Gems in the Crown

The rest of the journey till Barot is on a narrow road along river Uhl, lively & frothing over boulders. The valley itself is curvy, sylvan with pines which give way to the mighty deodars, with ripening wheat in the lower & fallow potato fields in the upper regions. The dam dominates the centre of town & a narrower valley heads off on the right from town towards Lohardi & the snowy reaches of Bara Bhangal. The road suddenly seems to be a mud track towards the upper end of town near the FRH. We are told that two nights back there had been a cloudburst & it has taken down a huge portion of a stream, corners of couple of buildings, the wall & one sewage pit of the FRH & deposited bits & pieces all along the road as a warning to all those who cross that nature must be respected with a capital ‘R’.

Discover another river that runs wild in- Nubra Valley – Forging our own path

In a comedy of errors we discover that the FRH & more pertinently the lunch we have been talking about is actually across the range back at Bir & still awaiting our arrival! It is not this one with it’s slightly cantankerous incharge & there is no chicken or greens waiting to be had definitely. But thankfully this one is empty & we are grudgingly given beautifully wood paneled rooms by the harassed caretaker who is busy trying to get the swanky loo going which is a no-go courtesy the cloudburst. Fortunately there is a decent though basic room available in the adjoining homestay. As we settle down the weather packs up again with a vengeance & we are left praying that an encore is not in the offing. The sound of heavens opening up on a tin roof is, if nothing else, deafening.

The next day dawns scrubbed & sparkling & there is something to be said about the smell of deodars after the rains. It is as invigorating as it is sensual. The valley is preening it’s luminescent greenery. We spend the next two mornings & evenings discovering the walking paths to the villages tucked away in the higher reaches, stopping to chat with women getting their potato fields ready. We give up any pretense of walking & flop down on the edge of the fields to watch the valley spread below as we ruminate on life. The days are spent by the stream (For some reason still marked as the Uhl only.) going up to Lohardi, angling with picnic lunches thrown in. We hire the rod & other paraphernalia there itself but decline the help of a guide as there are self professed experts in the group. We catch nothing more than a certain fervor for the activity! The only thing on the menu for us is the local trout & thankfully the locals are better at hooking the fish than us because left to us, we would have been on a starvation diet. We feast on sumptuous fresh catch everyday at the small eateries near the FRH. Though the weather generally packs up in the afternoon, a common enough phenomena during summer, we take a drive up the Lohardi road & walk up to this village across the stream. There is a kul ( The water channel system in the hills.) & a flour grinding contraption powered by it. We see the snow clad Bara Bhangal heights through a misty veil of rain heading in our direction.

Rain and food are a great combination like I found in-Satiating Nostalgia Under the Winter Rain at Junia

The last morning of our stay & we are all loaded to head back & I am chatting with the proprietor of this restaurant, who I’ve noticed earlier tipping all the waste into the river right in front of his place. He bemoans the lack of any coherent disposal system ( True. Sadly.) & I try to give him a pep talk on self help because no one wants to come to a see a nullah (stream) turned nallih (drain) no matter how pristine the setting! The onus of preserving the scenic environs is on the locals as much as on us. I head across the road to the edge of the river where he has put out some tables under these sun umbrellas. Suddenly I spy this old lady & I mean old, bent, leaning on a half a twig passing for a stick type, on the slip of a bank below the wall lining the river. She seems to be getting into the river. I watch aghast as she gets into the water trying, it seems, to ford across the shallows. She slips, tries to get her footing but flounders. I am shouting & running towards her. She seems to be getting swept away right before our eyes! I am overtaken by this strapping young cop who till now had been lounging & reading a newspaper on a chair nearby. He is down the wall & into the water in a heartbeat, fishing the old lady out along with some locals & us. She is carried up, handed a hot cuppa & given a gentle chiding by the cop who tells her that there are saner & safer ways of getting across. Phew! That has been unnerving…

As we hit the road crowded with the monster goats, we marvel at the tiny valley packing a punch – comedy, high drama, blissful tranquil moments & the serendipitous catch saved for the last!

Fact File – A permit is needed for fishing in the Uhl from the Fisheries Department. It is available at a nominal amount. The person hiring out the rods generally helps in getting one.