AROUND KAILASH IN FOURTEEN DAYS

1983

IN HINDU mythology, Kailash is the legendary home of Shiva. And perhaps because of that many ranges have peaks named Kailash. Kailash (6714 m) above Manasarovar in Tibet is the holiest, believed to have been climbed by the Chinese. For those who could not make the arduous pilgrimage to Tibet there is ‘Baba Kailash’ (6322 m) near the Tibetan border between Darma and Kuthi valleys. In Garhwal (Gangotri) we have Sri Kailash (6932 m) the easiest of Shiva’s abodes. It was first climbed by the Austrian team in 1938. More to the west is Kinnaur Kailash (Jorkanden) (6473 m) above Kalpa, a fearsomely difficult peak. Last comes Kailash (5656 m) in Chamba district of Himachal Pradesh. It is also called Mani Mahesh Kailash after the holy lake to its west. This is perhaps the most difficult of all the abodes. Changing houses must be difficult, even for Shiva!

      In the winter of 1983 we decided to invite ourselves to this last home of Shiva. A traditional route circuits the mountain and it is usually only possible to do so during September. It is an 80 km parikrama over a high pass of 4938 m. It was also our aim to climb the peak. Kailash was climbed by a large Indo-Japanese Ladies Expedition in 1968.1 Upon studying their article and photographs the peak seemed an easy climb, even in winter.

      We prepared for the trip in earnest, having not much experience of winter. Ultimately we found that it was best to follow the early travellers. ‘In our outfit we were much more fortunate. We had learnt from experience that the secret of true comfort lies in the elimination of the unessential rather than in the collection of masses of material. I hasten to add that our standard of food and warmth was high!’2 

      On 3 December 1983 we were at Chamba. It was cold, deserted and wore an autumnal look. A local Panwala enlightened us about various legends of Kailash.

      ‘The mountain shakes when someone tries to climb it. The jatra takes place in early September and on the appointed date at 4 a.m. there is a sudden flow of water in the lake and everyone jumps in to take a bath.’

      The area abounded with Kailash  legends. Everything bore relation to Shiva—there were pictures, stories and names.

      On 4th we left for Brahmour. The bus left us at Khadamukh where a bridge lies incomplete for last two decades.

      ‘The local M.P. is always from the opposition, and hence our bridge is not completed.’ ‘Can’t Shiva do something about it?’

      ‘He is the God of destruction and not construction! Anyway Shiva had elected a representative of the ruling party in this election and the bridge will be hopefully completed in few years.’

      At Lahul we had the first and the only view of Kailash (west face). It looked frightening, isolated and massive. Brahmour was cold and the famous Kailash temple complex looked deserted. We made final preparations, loaded our 35 kg rucksacks and started for Hadsar (13 km) on the jeepable track. Autumn was in full glory and reaching Kugti (13 km) on the 6th was a pleasure beyond words and a pain beyond complaining due to the heavy loads and cold. We turned south here and followed Bhujla nala for two days to establish ourselves at the junction of Nikora and Kailash nala. On the 9th, Muslim and Kartik moved along the valley to recce our route. Dhiren and I climbed up an adjoining mountain ridge to observe Kailash. In the southwest a shapely snow-peak appeared and we recognized it from the pictures from the ladies team which we were carrying. This was the peak between Khidja Galu and Chobu pass, and climbed by the ladies in 1968. To its north (difference of 15° from that snowy peak, to be precise) towered a  huge monolith of rock and ice. It had a steep gra-dient and complicated rock-pinnacles. No route appeared feasible     on that. Dhiren lost a compass-bearing-reading bet and we firmly established that the stupendous monolith was the true Kailash peak. The Panwala was right. He had challenged: ‘No one can climb Kailash. If anyone climbs it I would reject Shiva as God! And if you climb it now in the cold I’ll treat you to a free paan!’

      In the evening Muslim confirmed our observation: ‘The true Kailash is so steep from the higher camp that my neck is sprained looking up to it.’

      We moved up in two camps to 4330 m. The cold increased and the weather deteriorated. We intended to climb the ‘Ladies Peak’ which is about 5180 m and then complete the parikrama. On 13th Dhiren and I opened route till Chobu pass, c. 4940 m. It was a steep route over scree and the last traverse under overhanging rocks scaring away all but the staunch devotees. The view to north revealed a number of shapely peaks on Lahul-Chamba divide. There are famous passes. This area can be a trekkers’ and climbers’ paradise.

      We gathered at the upper camp, and from that evening we were tent-bound for the next 3 days. A violent snow-storm engulfed us. Those were three miserably cold, long days. The temperature dropped to –25°C at times.

      At night it was fearfully cold. In spite of wearing an under-garment, woollen shirt, pullover and being rolled into a sleeping-bag, we were frozen. We joked with each other to forget the cold.

      ‘I have read somewhere that the more clothes one wears, the colder one feels.’

      ‘This is no time to go stripping.’

      ‘How does Shiva stay atop just in a loin-cloth?’

      To us, in one of these moments of insane optimism which no amount of cold experience was capable of shattering, it seemed that we might, with a little luck, still complete at least the parikrama.

      The 17th was clear and looking at the thermometer Dhiren shouted to the other tent.

      ‘It is quite warm today. The temperature has risen to –12°C.’

      Muslim’s reply was unprintable! We had no time to wait. With hard labour we were at the pass in 7 hours. It was most fatiguing on the soft snow. On the other side a semi-circular basin plastered with fresh snow covered the route down. Half an hour later I led the descent. After a distance of 25 m a soft but unmistakable sound and the entire snow-slope under me in the semi-circular basin had avalanched. I was luckily riding on the top of it. It generated speed, tossed me around and stopped after 180 m, burying me a little. I scrambled out, unhurt, and looked up the path of the avalanche for signs of my companions. I could see no one and had the scare of my life. Where do I look for them under such vast debris? There was a shout from above—they were above the line that had cracked! They glissaded down the avalanche path and enjoyed the fruits of my involuntary labour. We plodded on and camped at 4570 m thoroughly exhausted.

      The snow-plod continued on the 18th. In 3 hours we were at the holy Mani-Mahesh lake at 4170 m. Cold biting wind pushed us steeply down. The track was well-made for the pilgrims. But few ice-tunnels invaded the track and it was complicated to overcome it on watery ice. We camped on the track at Dancho. Next morning Dhiren slipped on an ice-runnel and was carried down 30 m in a flash. Only the rucksack saved him from serious injuries.

      We trekked down steeply and at last on 19th evening we were at Hadsar where a jeep picked us for night at Brahmour.

      We were back at Chamba.

      ‘You could not have done the parikrama in this cold’. The Panwala did not believe us. Kartik threateningly pointed to his cold tips and toes as proofs.

      ‘All right, even though you could not reach the abode, have a free paan.’

      We were happy to be warm and well-fed. Now we ate at Kailash dhaba, travelled by Kailash express, saw a movie at Kailash theatre and Muslim even gave admiring glances to damsel Kailash. We could afford to, after those cold days around the real Kailash!