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The Statesman – Sport &
Leisure 14 August 2002.
ANNAPURNA BASE CAMP -- Braving the odds
The trail to the Anapurna Base Camp leads to a natural Himalayan
amphitheatre, awesome in the vista it presents of an almost
360-degree panorama of snowy peaks. But the road to such splendor is
difficult and dangerous, cautions Rangan Datta.
Along with its sister peaks belonging to the Annapurna range,
Machhapuchare (Fish Tail) towers over the popular Napelese lakeside
town of Pokhara, an irresistible lure to climbers like me. At the
end of a five day trek lies the base of this majestic mountains. The
trail follows the course of the Modi
Khola (khola means river), opening up into a open amphitheatre as it
were, so that its width three miles. Rising directly from its walls
are nine peaks, each over 6,000 meters high, all draped in a frozen
cascade of glacial ice. Standing like sentinels on either side of
the entrance to this amphitheatre are Machhapuchare ad the
Christmas-cake summit of Hiunchuli. A razor-edged ice ridge connects
Hiunchuli to the Annapurna South peak, joined in its turn, by a wall
of broken ice to the Varaha Sikhar Peak (also known as Fang) and
further on, to the huge south face of Annapurna I, the goal of many
a seasoned climbers.Beyond the latter, the wall breaks up into an
entire series of ridges and peaks that jut out from it. The
remaining part of the wall curves to embrace Machhapuchare,
circumscribing an entire circle that ensures an
 almost 360-degree
panorama of snow peaks.
In 1970, Chris Bonington and his party used the amphitheatre as a
base camp to conquer Annapurna-I via its south face. Today, the
amphitheatre is part of the Annapurna Sanctuary, covered by the
Annapurna Conservation Area Project which is responsible for the
development of the area. Trekkers’ fees are channelised by officials
engaged in this project to the local inhabitants for the growth of
the region.
My own journey to this dreamland began on a mid-October evening in
Kolkata, when I boarded a train for New Jalpaiguri. A ride from
there to Bagdogra and subsequent bus journey to the Nepal border
seemed smooth and hassle-free. But I knew, well enough, that this
was the easy part. Formalities completed at the border, I took an
overnight bus from Kakarbita, which took me past Pokhara to Nayapool,
the starting point of my trek. A brief rest I was off to Birethanti,
the gateway to the ACAP. Paying my entry fee Rs. 400 in Nepali
currency I continued on my way. The fatigue from the long bus
journey still persisted, helped in no way by the heat and humidity
of the low-altitude terrain.
The lunch break at Shiuli Bazar revived me somewhat and I followed
the trail past Kimche village and towards my day’s target: Gandruk,
the head quarters of ACAP. Equiped with a number of first-class
hotels and a telephone booth with ISD facilities, this large Gurung
village is the ideal halting point for those far from home.
I awoke, the next morning, to a clear day and stunning view of
Annapurna South, Hiunchuli and Machapuchare, the trio of peaks
rising haughtily skywards and dwarfing the village by their sheer
size. I have already set my self the day’s goal: Chomrong, another
large village located almost at the same altitude. The route to my
destination was, however, as hard on the lungs as on the legs with
its series of ascents and descents.
A short while later, I reached a village called Komrong. From this
point onwards, the trail plunged straight down to Kimrung Khola
gorge across which lay Kimrung village Halting briefly for lunch, I
was soon on my way to Chomrong. The trail was very steep and the
heat and humidity were killing. By 3’o clock I was trudging into
Chomrong, where a hot solar shower recharged my batteries like a
high-voltage current.
I was greeted, the next morning by a superb spectacle – rows of
mountain peaks but I had no time to stand and stare. A considerable
distance had to be covered that day and I had to start out early.
The going was tough, beginning with a terrifyingly steep decent down
a stone stairway to the Chomrong Khola, followed by a precarious
crossing over a hanging bridge. Having reached the other end, I
followed the trail up a sharp incline that cut through a bamboo
forest. With my heavy backpack hindering all the way, I was quite
overcome by the sight of “civilization” a cluster of hotels aptly
named Bamboo.
Lunch at Bamboo over, I was detained by a smart shower that no signs
of letting up. Left with little choice, I continued on my way under
weeping skies, my feet slithering in the mud and trying, often quite
unsuccessfully, to retain a steady grip. Reaching Doban, my resolve
to carry on abandoned me and I decided to call it a day, although I
was now 24 hours behind schedule.
As is the way with hill country, the skies cleared the next morning.
I knew I had only a short distance to cover that day, but the trek
involved a steep climb. Making my way doggedly up the incline, I
reached a cluster of hotels at a place called Himalaya. Skirting
past it, the trail continued to rise sharply and led to Hinko Cave,
a large overhang designed by nature to shelter a number of people in
inclement weather. Unfortuately the mouth of the cave entrance had
been sealed off, forcing trekkers to seek shelter in the lodges.
Leaving Hinko behind, I negotiated my way gingerly through a
dangerous rock fall zone to entered Deaurali, a cluster of four
hotels serving the needs of trekkers from across the world. Here,
and not for the first time since I began traveling in the region, I
faced commercialization in its worst form. Being a solo trekker
without a guide or porter, I was refused a room, even though I was
always ready to share it with another trekker or alternatively, pay
the entire amount for a double bedroom. It took me much pleading on
my part, before I was given a room.
An overcast sky greeted me the following morning, not a auspicious
beginning for the final leg of my journey to the Annapurna Base
Camp. The route was a short, but sharply inclined. By the afternoon,
I arrived at the Machapuchare Base Camp. This was, apparently, the
vantage point for beautiful views of mountain and sky. But right now
the clouds regained supreme. Pausing for a short rest, I carried on
doggedly. The trail followed the course of Modi Khola, a mere
trickle at this point and although at a given moment, the lodges of
Annapurna come into view, I knew I had miles to go before I could
call it a day. Meanwhile, it started to snow but before I could give
up in despair, I had reached my destination.
That, however, was not the end of my problems. Being a single
trekker, proved yet again, to be a curse. For no lodge owner was
prepared to accommodate me. Finally, one of them deigned to allow me
the use of the storeroom attached to trekkers’ hut. By then, it had
stopped snowing and I readily joined some locals in a game of volley
ball. But the thin air at an altitude of 4000 metres, left me
gasping for breath after my exertions.
Giving up, I fled to the warmth of the dinning hall. Catering as
they do to an international clientele, lodges serve excellent food
including delicacies like pizzas, fried rice, puddings and custards,
but the prices charged are as steep as the trails leading up to
them. A plate of rice and lentils, for example, costs (in Nepali
currency) Rs 160 (Rs. 100 Indian currency is equilavent to Rs160 in
local money), a cold drink Rs100! Before going to bed, I could only
pray that the sky clears swiftly, releasing me from the necessity of
staying at the lodge.
A delightful sight awaited me the next morning. The sun had yet to
rise, but the sky was sparkling clear and everyone was out enjoying
the fine weather. Swathed in thick woollens and equipped with a
camera I joined the others. On a ridge here stood a Buddhist-style
memorial to the mountaineers who have died in their quest to conquer
the mighty peaks. A walk along the ridge, which dropped a few
hundred feet into the moraine of South Annapurna Glacier, brought me
closer to Annapurna-I. Avalanches came crushing down the glacier at
frequent intervals and the view from the top of the ridge was simply
mind-blowing.
As the sun rose behind the Machhapuchare’s spire, its rays hitting
the glacier, the frequency of avalanches increased. I lingered long
after sunrise, gazing in the awe at a sight I felt I was specially
blessed to enjoy.
It was time to go back to my own world and reality. I packed my bags
and made my way down from the heights. The skies remained clear all
the way and the mountains were revealed to me in all their glory.
Was it to remind me of all that I would be missing once I was home?
Perhaps. But it left me with no regrets. |
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