Gaumukh & Tapovan, Garwhal Himalaya

Shivling is the centerpiece of Tapovan. 

This was a trip that kept changing, all through the 6 months of planning, and the 10 days of the actual trip. At the end, we were tired, ill, mentally challenged by the monsoon, but richer by memories of unmatched mountain scenery.


Trivia:

• The Gangotri Glacier, origin of the Ganga, is one of the largest in the Himalaya
• Tapovan (14,638ft/4463m), is base camp for Shivling, 21,467 ft, one of the most striking peaks in the Gangotri Group
• Other peaks visible on this trek: Sudarshan Parbat, Bhagirathi Group, Meru, Chandra Parvat, Mandani, Sri Kailash
• From Tapovan, you can see three glaciers: Gangotri, Raktavarna, Chaturangi 
• Complete photo albums: 
• Gaumukh Tapovan
• Kedar Tal Attempt  

We started planning about 6 months prior to the actual trip. The original plan was to trek from Gangotri to Badrinath, over Kalindi Khal, a 19,500 ft pass. In the interim, one of us (me) was hit by appendicitis, which gave us cold feet. It turned out to be a good decision, because the 2010 trekking season was marred by unseasonably late monsoon activity, causing numerous shops and houses in the Bhagirathi Valley to be washed away by floods, as well as the deaths of several trekkers near the Kalindi pass. So in the end we decided in favor of back to-back treks, each starting at Gangotri. The first would be 6-7 days of hiking in the upper Bhagirathi Valley and Gangotri Glacier. The plan was to hike up to Tapovan, a series of meadows perched a few hundred feet above the Gangotri Glacier, cradled by sweeping slopes leading up to Shivling, a striking 21,467 ft high ice pinnacle. The intent from there was to cross the Gangotri Glacier, camp at Nandanvan, a similar meadow on the other side, at the base of Bhagirathi II (22,487 ft), and explore the possibility of day hiking to Vasuki Tal from there before returning to Gangotri. On the second leg, the plan was to explore the Kedar Ganga valley. The trail climbs steeply from Gangotri, and in 2 camps, you can reach Kedar Tal, where you are rewarded with being hemmed in by Bhrigupanth and Jogin Groups, but the star attraction of the place is Thalaysagar, one of the world's most challenging ice climbs. These were our plans. The monsoon had different ones.


Sep 3-4: Delhi, Hardwar, Uttarkashi

Saumya and Saurabh missed a flight from Bangalore to Delhi, but still somehow managed to make it to the Nizamuddin train station on time. Geoff and I were in Ranjita and Saikat's company for a delectable (and cheap!) pre-departure kebab dinner at "Aap Ki Khatir", a road side joint in the Nizamuddin area. (Not to be confused with "Saab Ki Khatir", which is right next door, and sells, as far as we could tell, the exact same food. Srivatsan and his family made it to the train as well (his family would be road tripping around Uttarakhand while we trekked).

Next morning, at Hardwar, we were greeting by rain and Vinod, our taxi operator. Soon we were bouncing along roads recently damaged by the monsoon, towards Rhishikesh. There we picked up Srivatsan's parents from a GMVN guest house right next to a Ganga that looked like it was going to overflow its banks any moment. The drive upto Uttarkashi was uneventful except for an enormous Himalayan Griffon that was perched on the roadside. We stayed at the "Bamboo Palace" in Uttarkashi a little bit beyond the extremely unattractive main market, where we met Gyan, our friend, philosopher and guide in this part of the country. Bamboo "Palace" provides pretty basic accommodation, but is wonderfully located right on the raging Bhagirathi. We spent the evening chatting about the mountains, the weather (it was overcast and drizzling all day), and the road conditions we would face the next day.

Sept 5: Uttarkashi to Gangotri

The first of several landslides we would encounter on this trip.

The landslide at Gangnani consumed several hours. Just after a bridge that crosses the Bhagirathi was a 100m stretch of road covered by a few boulders the size of houses (see above photo for how dwarfed the earth moving equipment is). Luckily the slide was stable. We watched as technicians planted explosives, set fuses, and then ran to save themselves from the blast - typical India style:  hardly any supervision or safety procedures were apparent. The blast itself was partial - three bombs went off while we were expecting four. So they had to reignite the last one, and soon, the rubble was small enough for the bullldozers to get to work. They worked skillfully for at least an hour trying to clear a way for traffic to get through. However it was clear that there was plenty to do. While we waited, Saumya decided to provide some entertainment by dropping her sunglasses from the bridge into the Bhagirathi  below us. Luckily some shrubs took the catch, and Manoj (Gyan's brother) and Sujit (Gyan's son) were able to fish it out.  Finally, when the bulldozers took a lunch break, the landslide section was opened up to pedestrian traffic. Gyan was able to arrange for cabs on the other side of the slide, so we unloaded our cabs and ferried stuff over the rubble. From there it was a long, hungry drive to Dharali, where we had lunch, followed by a quick 60 minute climb to Gangotri. We arrived late afternoon, and checked into basic accommodation at the Mandakini lodge, along the main market:   surprisingly clean and charming as far as holy Hindu towns go.

Later that evening we walked downhill to the Suryakund falls, and in a mix up, got separated from Geoff as the light was failing.  Geoff hot-footed downstream looking for me, while I ended up heading back to Gangotri town looking for him.

The water level in the river and the falls was quite high, obscuring the interesting rock formations that Suryakund is known for. Back at the Gangotri temple, we spent some quiet moments with the pujari, and looking on to the raging river. The temple courtyard has a sculpture of Bhagirath, who according to legend, was responsible for bringing Ganga down to earth. The temple itself looks relatively new, though wikipedia places it as an early 18th century construction. For certain it belies the age of Gangotri as a pilgrim destination. During the winter only a small handful of pujaris remain. The rest of the town (and the temple too) shuts down between Diwali and May.

We spent the rest of the evening organizing our gear and worrying about the weather. Though it hadn't rained much during the day, it had remained overcast throughout.

Sept 6: Gangotri to Bhojbasa

We took a while to get ready. The aloo paratha, though excellent, was a little short. So we bought some bananas from the Gangortri main street, loaded our packs and started the hike around 10:30-11 am. Earlier we watched as an expedition prepared their luggage, an array of fairly impressive looking drums. It was a mix of sun and clouds as Geoff, Srivatsan, Saumya, Saurabh and I headed up the Bhagirathi valley, bidding goodbye to Srivatsan's family. The sun was finally out, and it was warm hiking out of Gangotri. We entered the National Park about 20-30 minutes later, where there was a brief hold up while officials checked our permits, and we chatted with a German group of retired engineers about their trekking plans.

The trek starts with a scenic hike upstream along the Bhagirathi Valley. 

From here on we took few breaks, and made good progress along the true right of the Bhagirathi. It seemed odd at first to be walking south towards the mountains instead of north, which is what you typically do in Himalayan treks. The views of the river and valley were impressive, but we were denied snow views except a partial and occasional glimpse of the Bhagirathi Group. There were a couple of nerve-testing stream crossings thanks to the late monsoon rains, where Geoff demonstrated a cross-feet technique for stability on a pair of logs. I preferred to scamper across and get it over as quickly as possible. We took a well-deserved rest at Chirbasa 9km later, in a clearing in the pine forest where Gyan magically produced tea from a thermos. We continued at a steady pace after that, and arrived at Bhojbasa at 2:30 pm, where we lazed at the GMVN guest house waiting for porters and camp gear to arrive. We got hungry, so lunched on Maggi. It was a gloomy afternoon, with only Saurabh’s antics with the skeletal remains of a dead cow (which did not go down well with Saumya), a tiny glimpse of Shivling, and an encounter with a bearded Frenchman providing some entertainment. He cribbed about how he was denied a camping permit, and would therefore have to walk to Gaumukh and back the same day. He seemed up to the task: barefoot, bearded, dressed like a sadhu, (except his robes were clean). There was something a little strange about him, and characteristically, Geoff named him "Frenchie Baba".

Sept 7:  Bhojbasa to Tapovan

The first of several murky mornings. We initially considered staying put at Bhojbasa. But it cleared up around 8 am, so we left camp soon after. The Bhagirathi peaks played hide and seek as we inched closer to them, reaching Gaumukh easily in about an hour. It’s a pretty easy walk from Bhojbasa to Gaumukh. The river was in spate, and the drizzle continued, and gradually worsened. Gyan pointed out the old route to Tapovan which was quite a bit downstream from the current route, and the old location of Gaumukh. There are several government installed signs marking the old locations as well, but according to Gyan, they are a little exaggerated. We met a group of Bengalis who looked ill-prepared for the glacier crossing, and unsurprisingly, none had made it to Tapovan except one person. We splashed ourselves with Bhagirathi water near a makeshift temple about 200m from the glacier’s mouth and headed up the moraine, leaving the comfort of a well-worn pilgrim trail behind.

Gaumukh. The route to Tapovan was on the left of the snout, up and across the glacier.

For the next two hours it was a tough scramble over rocks and ice to get up on and across the glacier. It got more challenging with time as we started to feel the debilitating dual effects of altitude and worsening weather. A huge new crevasse meant the route to Tapovan had changed, lengthening the trek. Gyan was terrific at route finding, and after a very quiet period (no one was talking, focusing on foot placement), we reached the base of the steep climb to Tapovan. We stopped in the rain for a lemon tea break, and willed ourselves onwards through the pouring rain up a sequence of numerous short but steep switch-backs. There was one significant waterfall crossing, which passed without incident, but not without some anxious moments. After a final determined push, we reached the flat grassy terrace above the glacier. We had reached, but visibility was so poor, there was no instant reward to be had. After setting up camp, and drying off (to what extent we could), we walked around the meadow a little hoping to spot a clearing in the sky. All we got was a visit from a herd of bharal. It rained incessantly throughout the evening and night.

Sep 8: Rained in at Tapovan

The bad weather continued. We spent the morning on camp chores, removing water that had accumulated in pools under the tent. The continuous rain precipitated a marathon UNO session. The high point of the day was surely the pakoras with chatakdar sauce that Gyan conjured up – it’s remarkable what he and his team is capable of at 14000 ft. Late in the afternoon the rain stopped, but it remained murky. We took a short walk up to Mouni Baba’s hideout (apparently he’s capable of speech, but has chosen to be silent), who looked quite happy to see us. Unsurprisingly, conversation did not sparkle. We chatted with the Germans, got a glimpse of Nandanvan across the glacier, returned and spent a good amount of time visiting a "Bangali Mata" in her cave. We had an interesting chat with her about life in Tapovan vs Calcutta. Her son runs a business selling cricket gloves, and her kids rarely visit her. It seemed odd to be treated to excellent coffee in her little cave, which was decorated, among other things, with a calendar from Mohendra Lal Dutta, maker of Calcutta's finest umbrellas. The view from her cave door perfectly frames the pyramid of Shivling, which makes it perhaps the most prized piece of real estate in Tapovan.  She predicted that for the best views, we would need 4-5 ft of snow, but there were good chances that on the next morning, “asman khul jayga”. The rest of evening was much like the previous one: ennui, UNO, dinner.

Sep 9: Tapovan Day Hike

The weather was a little clearer. In the morning the ridge next to the camp overlooking the glacier yielded good views, including a lammergeier sighting, the Bhagirathi Group, and Chandra Parvat. Shivling and Meru remained obscured by clouds.

Bhagirathi group towering over the confluence of the Gangotri and Chaturangi glaciers

Bangali Mata warned that good weather would last only till 1:30 or so (She was proved right). We cancelled plans of going to Nandanvan, and decided to do a day hike around Tapovan. We eased onto the ridge formed by the lateral moraine of the glacier, and headed south from Tapovan and were rewarded with dramatic views of the upstream Gangotri, several hundred feet below us, the Bhagirathi peaks on the left, and the Chaturangi glacier at their base. We could make out distinct colors of the Chaturangi, and at least two major colors in the Gangotri, probably due to the merger of the Kirti glacier just south of Shivling, but beyond our field of view. We aborted a plan of Manoj’s (Gyan had sent him to accompany us on the hike) to descend to the glacier, so we continued with the ridge hike. The turn-around point was hotly debated with Saurabh (who has fitness levels that should be outlawed) wanting to continue  in the hope of sighting the Kirti glacier. In the end it was a good thing we turned back when we did as Saumya was not feeling too well. The return route was a long meandering hike through meadows with wildflowers, with the slopes of Shivling disappearing into the clouds above us. We had a long tea break with biscuits, followed by a slushy walk back through all too familiar, but quickly worsening weather. We reached camp just in time before the rain came pouring down.

We spent the afternoon in a familiar way - tent and water management,  UNO, pakoras, more UNO, more rain. When the rain broke, Saurabh scampered up the rock fall in awfully soupy conditions, to everyone’s consternation. Better senses, Gyan and Srivatsan brought him back.  Finally, the rain died down, and the sky opened up, and temperature fell to about ~5 degrees above freezing. Gyan conjured up baingan bharta for dinner even though he himself was doing poorly thanks to a stomach bug! Post dinner we played more UNO, this time with Saurabh’s rules. Finally hit the sack around 9 pm, with most of us suffering from headaches.

Sep 10: Tapovan to Chirbasa

Sunrise on Meru. Our first and only really clear morning of the trek.

Brilliant morning at last! Peaks that came to the party included the sheer face of Meru, the graceful pyramid of Shivling, the ice-cream dollop-like KharachKund, Mandani, the majestic Bhagirathi group, the perfect triangle Chandra Parvat, a golden Sudarshan Parvat, and Sri Kailash. And of course, views of three glaciers: Raktavarna, Chaturangi, and Gangotri. Tapovan lived upto and exceeded its reputation. We decided that the intense UNO puja had paid off! We spent the morning taking pictures, chatting with Bangali mata, and having a celebration-style breakfast on poori-chhole. We quit camp, and then enjoyed an exhilarating hike down to the glacier. It was hard to imagine this was the same hike we struggled with on the way up. The sun and scenery made it so much easier (and we were better acclimatized). The glacier crossing was far more interesting too, with stunning 360 degree views, Shivling in particular. At Gaumukh we met an Indo Khazak expedition, who were planning a summit attempt on Bhagirathi II between Sep 18-21.

Tapovan: Saumya and Saurabh and Shivling. 

It was a long hike to Chirbasa, with a tea and paratha break at Bhojbasa. Between the two, there is a section of the trail about 100m long which is an active rock fall area, so one needs to be careful. We got close up views of bharal along the trail. Stream crossings were easier than on the way up. The clouds were back by the time we reached camp, which was right next to a torrential Bhagirathi. The campsite location was in the middle of a lush green chir forest, but was far from the cleanest site we had seen. We spent the afternoon washing up as the weather closed in a little, but brilliant views of the morning would remain with us for a lifetime. I treated a minor injury (thanks to a tumble near Gaumukh) with some muscle spray and pain killers. Srivatsan began to feel a little anxious about his daughter, and Saumya was a little sick. We spent the evening chatting with Gyan about other routes in the Uttarakhand and Himachal areas.   

Sep 11: Chirbasa to Gangotri

Started hiking at 8:30-9 and made quick progress downhill.  Glorious weather, a tricky stream crossing, 1 rock fall, a beautiful high waterfall, lots of uphill traffic (thanks to improving conditions) including sadhus, trekkers, and a Kalindi expedition. We were back at Gangotri by 11:30. Saumya and Saurabh left for Delhi, not feeling up to the second leg of the trip (to Kedar Tal). Geoff Srivatsan and I hung out in the main street, relaxing on coffee and pakoras, making phone calls, having hot showers, and repacking for the next day.

Sep 12:  Gangotri to Bhoj Kharak

Thanks to Saumya and Saurabh, we learnt that it was Geoff’s 40^th birthday. Soon after breakfast, we started the hike at 8:30 am from the other end of Gangotri, near the Suryakund bridge, through cloudy weather. The trail climbs very steeply out of Gangotri, through a narrow, densely forested gorge of juniper. Torrential waterfalls are created where the Kedar Ganga is forced through cracks in the gorge that are no more than 20 ft or so across.

Kedar Ganga on its way to the Bhagirathi.

After an hour the drizzle turned into a downpour. The going got quite miserable, and to top it all, we came across a pretty difficult stream crossing soon after a Bhoj forest which involved stepping along a ledge that was no more than a couple of very slippery inches wide. We set up camp amidst torrential rain, on sloping ground, on what must rank as one of the filthiest campsites in the Himalaya. The rest of the afternoon was spent drying out (or trying to). The rain continued into the evening, so out came the UNO, and discussions on what to do next. Geoff was not feeling too well and Srivatsan was getting more than a little anxious about being away from Samhita for so long.

There was a noisy young group from Bangalore camped next to us, and even though one of them was suffering from AMS, the liquor was flowing quite freely. The colorful language from their tent got Srivatsan going, and he filled us in on Bangalore’s underground entertainment scene. Gyan was quite fed up with the way our neighbouring camp was being conducted. We decided that night we would take a call the next morning. We were unanimous that if the weather looked poor the next morning, we would skip the Kedar Tal plan  and head back to Delhi asap for some downtime.

Sep 13, 14: Back to Gangotri, and Frustrating Road Trip

We woke up to overcast conditions. With little discussion, we headed back to Gangotri,  and killed a few hours chatting with Indian soldiers who had just summitted one of the Jogin peaks, visiting the temple, and buying some holy water.

Ganga water being sealed into a metal pot for easy transport

In the afternoon, we finally got a cab that agreed to to go to Dharali, a nothing town just short of Harsil. We stayed at a crummy hotel where we bathed in brown, but warm water. However the food was excellent. The next morning we got a cab to Harsil where no diesel was to be had for ready money. We managed to reach Uttarkashi, where we changed cabs. After passing through Dhunda, Gyan’s town, we got caught at a landslide. After a wait, it was cleared and Gyan headed back in the rain. We moved a couple of km further, and then we got caught in the real one: the previous one was just a prelude. This one was a LONG wait, and we witnessed inexplicably idiotic behavior from locals  – folks running across active rock fall, and then other wise guys doing a rope trick with kids in tow. It seems incredible that no one died there that day.

People running across an active landslide

We returned to Dhunda a few hours later and caught up with Gyan, who helped us find a hotel. He introduced us to his family and invited us for tea in his house. While having dinner we heard the road had re-opened. With a lot of excitement, our driver made a dash: no happiness though: 6 km later the road was closed again. Feeling like Bill Murray in Ground Hog Day, we came back to Dhunda and spent the night more than a little frustrated. So out came the UNO. Next morning, the road was open, so we narrowly made it past the slide area, in what we later heard was a fortuitous window. After some great aloo paratha for breakfast,  just when we thought we were past the worst, we got held up in a mudslide that took about an hour or so to be cleared. It had to be done manually since all the earth moving equipment was tied up clearing the larger rockfalls. To top it all, a little before reaching the plains, the car had a flat tire, in pouring rain. Amazingly the driver (who we had named Mr Nonchalance) managed to install the spare without any of us getting out of the car.

It was a relief to see the plains when they arrived. At Dehra Dun station, we were able to buy tickets on the Shatabdi back to Delhi, where Geoff treated us to a night in the Le Meridean. Srivatsan and I were able to move our flights up, and we were happily on a plane to Bangalore the next morning. Geoff would kill the day and fly to Beijing later that night. I for one was was glad to be back in Bangalore, but the happiness was short lived as I came down with high fever that knocked me out of action for a week. I took about a month to regain strength and in the process gave Ranjita (who didn't even go on the trek) the virus as well.

Conclusion:

Overall, it was a mentally demanding trip, thanks to the weather and illnesses towards the end. But Tapovan was incredible and the memories indelible. A sense of incompleteness remains about the trip, so it’s almost certain we will visit the area again. Kedar Tal is a short but tough trek, so it’s best attempted once you are well acclimatized. The route to Kalindi looks quite desolate and involves endless boulder hopping, so I am glad to leave that to others.