Solo Adventure in the Himalayas: A Travelogue

Foreword and pre-read warning
Solo, well no, it wasn’t supposed to start as a solo but yes this trip was more or less an impromptu decision.
A fortnight before this trip I was speculating on various trek options. Incidentally for some reason or other, none of the options materialized, with the irritation of the mind and my restlessness mounting up I realized I needed to just take a call and move.
The fact is I was planning to go for an easy trek or a hike with a group. I was looking for an opportunity to meet new people in a different setup. This being an impromptu decision finding a partner was also difficult and I did not want to shuffle more on my dates and kill the zeal of travel, I knew a delay in travel dates would eliminate my options for heading to the hills or the beaches as the rains could play disruptor. So effectually I just moved out alone and later when I shared with my friends the realization dawned that inadvertently I had done a solo finally at 55.
When I started writing I did not have a format in my mind, therefore I do not know if this reads like pages out of a diary, a travelogue, a blog, or a mixed format. Though I was keen on getting back to try and get back to writing. For a long time now the words seemed to have eluded me and penning something had become an arduous task. I have never been a regular writer so I can’t call it writer’s block but the fancy of writing always seems kind of romantic if I may say.
I have tried to write as simply as I could and in a flow. This whole write-up has been post-completion of my trip and therefore I had the liberty to play with words.
After completion I realized it had become a rather long read, therefore I split it from Day 1 to Day 4 leaving anyone caring to read to be at liberty to read in parts or in full. Well if someone could muster the courage and the patience levels of Vipassana to read in full.
So read at your peril and don’t be shy to throw your violent or non-violent thoughts at me.
Till a day prior.
Ok, guys before I tell you what these pictures are it’s more important to know how these popped on my post.
I had been contemplating going on a trek for the last ten days with some date deadlines and restrictions for return, but alas nothing materialized. It started with a friend who tried to get me coordinated and hooked with a small trek group for Kush Kalyan, a simple bugyal trek further from Uttarkashi. As it turns out the trek guide was escorting a small family group and had neither disclosed the fact to me nor the family either. So I was all set, but just a day prior the trek guide cum operator disclosed the fact to both the parties, and well for our reasons we both ended up saying sorry to him. So it was back to the maps and options, there was more hunting for groups and options varied from Uttarakhand to Himachal and Kashmir. Destiny it seems had its mischievous ideas planned for me and none of the options materialized.
I was worked up by now and wearing out my phone’s battery searching for options. Random search and I came across this adventure camp called Binsar Adventure Camp. I looked through and thought this might be interesting because it showed rappelling, bridge crossing, and hikes to a river and waterfall. I thought to myself this could be a good option. I would be in the midst of nature, away from the major tourist spots, in the hills of Uttarakhand, plus the brochure mentioned varied outdoor activities and it says camp so there could be a different set of people too. Looked like a good recipe ticking more or less all the boxes. I decided this would be my go-to place and I started making calls to see if I could find a partner. Just a few calls and it was clear that at such short notice had no other option but to travel with myself.
So I packed my shoulder bag topped up the fuel tank, and all set. I had even packed a book to read and a notebook and pen to write if I got in that zone. Honestly looking back at my packed bags I don’t know if I was too open about my plans, confused or bohemian about my travel plans.
I was not scared rolling out alone, but in some corner of my mind, I guess I was somewhat jittery and unsure about driving 10 hours alone in the hills initially. It’s not that I haven’t driven alone for long hours but maybe it had been long since I had driven in hills. More so I didn’t recall when I had last traveled alone on something like a vacation.
With this cauldron of thoughts, I went to sleep ready to start early morning.
Day 1: June 10th 2023
The alarm went off and after my regular three snooze trips, I was out of my bed. A leisurely cup of tea followed by a bath and I was ready to switch the ignition. You know the funny thing about a bungee jump, it’s always the fear before the jump but then once off the board, it’s the adrenaline that comes into play. Off my regular roads and turning on the highway I knew I had taken the plunge from the board. I had started reasonably early and by the time I was on the highway, it was around 6 A.M. What I had not taken into account was that it was a school vacation period, a weekend and I wasn’t the only smart Alek. There was a reasonable traffic flow of tourists on the highway. The government in the last few years has transformed the highways in the country. This has encouraged many people to go on self drives and I think it’s a wonderful change for the economy. What meets the eye is just tourism at the tourist places but what we overlook is the allied and behind-the-scenes economies which get a major boost because of all this. But let’s not get into the economy and societal impacts here because what you need to focus on while driving is the overzealous drivers trying to zip past stretching the limits of their newly tech vehicles and the over-cautious drivers driving way below the permissible speed limits of the highway. Oh and many a time in the wrong lanes. So you are all ready to push the pedal and take the fast lane, you have just tested the 0 to 60 ability of your car and closing 80 and suddenly realize that you have a family happily traveling in the fast and overtaking lane comfortably cruising at 70 full of smiles laughter, giggles on a group mobile call. I have been driving on Indian highways for nearly 4 decades and stood steed with the fact that driving on most Indian roads requires strategy, anticipation, and reflexes more than rules. Having mentioned, are these also not some of the basic tenets of formula car racing, guess the difference is that we have a team playing in the formula races and here we have the lone wolves.
Let me not depict an irritable start, for I know for a casual read, no reader likes a frowned reading.
I had traveled to Bhowali just a few months back with friends but then I was the one driving so I decided to switch the dependency on a Google map for easier navigation even though I needed to go straight to Moradabad from where I would need to take a left and exit this highway.
Google Maps played the first trick, instead of taking me to Nainital from the Haldwani side where the roads are wider and allow me to even bye-pass a vast stretch of Nainital, I was redirected to the road via Kaladungi and Corbett side. The road is an inner connector to and thus goes through innumerable villages. Plus the road isn’t as wide either. I was crossing this stretch around 9ish in the morning this is when the towns and villages are coming to life and all kinds of people and vehicles are hitting the roads. Till about 15 to 20 years back if I had been crossing such a road maybe I would have thought wow the world is coming alive. I may have looked for roadside vendors for local food or produce. Pulled my car to the side curb and shopped to buy and carry my eats for the journey. Maybe stop for a simple cup of tea with a local bun makkhan or a pakora. So surprising though how we and our habits change subconsciously. With all the fast and big highways we have learned to enjoy the vehicles and their features but forgotten to roll down our windows and enjoy the simple passages of the journey. I think we are also subconsciously transforming from socialism to capitalism as my daughter might say.
I stopped my car just before Ramnagar for breakfast. The place was a small pit stop run by a Sikh family, and I could not stop but wonder how this arduous community shifted to the Terai region post-mid-eighties and transformed the complete region. The belt is a major agro zone and producer of the famed basmati rice. But with their hard work and agricultural expanses they also brought in their love for the new and fancy cars to the region and you could see the presence of all major automotive brands and farm equipment brands. I have always respected the Sikh community for their zeal for life who work hard and party harder. I wonder if could it be because of their genetic engineering of the DNA as a warrior clan who despite the wars learned to live to the fullest when they were not at war. Their omnipresent smile and the attachment to their religious and spiritual roots are visible and identifiable with a Gurudwara with even a small number of inhabitants at any given place. My omelet and bread were at my table to break my train of thought. While I was 3/4th through a big glass of tea had arrived at my table. The restaurant was not full. Just two couples, one of them a newly married one where the husband was keen to order to the likings of his new bride and the bride more keen on checking if her newlywed husband was enjoying or not enjoying the breakfast. A large family where they were keen to order the largest variety to sample as many dishes as possible. A third family where an old couple was seemingly accompanied by I guess their three daughters and their grandchildren, where the grandparents were keen to spoil the grandchildren with whatever the kids fancied and their mothers trying to stop the parents from lavish ordering while simultaneously trying to discipline the children. When you look around at such diverse people around you even a simple bread omelet could also bring a smile to your face.
With the sumptuous breakfast over I decided, I would take my next stop for lunch directly at Bhowali.
The road ahead from Ram Nagar to Kaladhungi is very picturesque as you start to get into the forest range with more signs cautioning the animal crossing paths than the usual road signs. I slowed down and wanted to look through the windows in case I could spot any animals. I believe the rising sun and the peak summers had made the animals more intelligent as they must have been resting in shades. The Boar River was also dry and parched right to its core, with more stones and boulders visible than any blue shades of water.
It had been just a few minutes since I had crossed Kaladhungi and my eyes were drawn to the slow-moving traffic ahead of me. The slow traffic was soon to turn into snail’s place and snarls. I took a leisurely glance at the Google map on my phone and realized that the road ahead was redder than the peak summer indicators of a thermometer in the plains. The Google map tried to show an alternate further ahead. And soon I could identify googles problem. It seemed that half of the plains population had abandoned the comforts of their air-conditioned homes and had landed in hills. I could see they had been compelled to park their vehicles kilometers away even from the entry road to Nainital and the poor souls were tugging their luggage to reach their hotels. With rapid construction and exponential deforestation the hills have also become hotter, I could see the plight of the poor souls sweating and slogging tugging their strollers or shoulder bags on the upwardly inclined roads towards Nainital entry points.
The good Samaritans called traffic policemen were trying to keep the traffic moving and redirecting the cars to alternate routes. I told them that I wasn’t intending to get into Nainital and was rather heading in the direction of Almora so they opened the barricade and diverted me towards the Jeolikot Haldwani road. For me what seemed like a re-direction to another road was increasing my kilometers and travel time. After a fifteen-minute drive, I realized that I had just been tossed from one traffic snarl to another. I guess not having a buddy did the invisible passenger a favor because I didn’t have anyone to crib to. So I had no option but to not look at just the rising altitudes and change of flora rather the slow pace meant I could take my time and check the leaves on every passing tree too. The initial idea of having lunch at Bhowali was a washaway because I was more focused on squeezing through the traffic rather than looking for the restaurant boards. The travails of travel were not to end till I crossed the Kainchi Dham.
The radio stations are limited and don’t work everywhere in the hills. The melodies of online music were interrupted by constant reminders of existence by the sweet Google map lady. I think somewhere on the go the thought of realization crossed my mind that may be the start of my Zen journey.
By the time I reached the outskirts of Almora, it was nearly 4 P.M., when I had started in the morning this was supposed to be my ETA at the camp. The traffic on the highway was heavier here too but the traffic department seemed better geared and the diversions were in place when the second time in the day I told the traffic cops that I was headed towards Binsar another set of barricades was opened and I was redirected to another road.
The traffic department and Google Maps with their concerted efforts guided me out of Almora towards Binsar passing through the Kasar Devi road.
I crossed Almora and was about to reach Binsar I thought to myself, maybe it’s my time to heave a sigh of relief from the painful overcrowded hill drive. I pulled my car to a side curb near a lemon juice vendor to hydrate myself and light a cigarette. However, I did regret and felt I should have taken a tea and snacks break instead for I had not eaten anything since my morning breakfast.
Binsar is at a comparatively higher altitude and the Road passes through abundant greenery and overlooking pine trees. I switched on the screen of my mobile to check on Google Maps. Google was kind enough to tell me that my destination was still nearly 40 kilometers, I did wonder though as to how could BInsar be so vastly spread and be bigger than even Nainital or Almora and if were to be, then my hands on the steering were to be still glued for another hour and a half at least.
I took reigns of my steed and started driving again. After about an hour the map indicated that I needed to leave the highway and take a smaller road on the right. Having driven for about a kilometer the map asked me to take a right on a further smaller road which looked more like a village road. As I was taking a turn towards this road two cars passed me with what looked like a large family in them. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind and I had an inkling that these two cars seemed to be coming from the same camp without opting to stay there. For the first time in 48 hours since booking the camp the thought that crossed my mind was, am I heading to the right place or have I been scammed? But after 13 hours of plains and hills driving with a skipped lunch or any food in my belly since breakfast, I did not have any energy to turn back and I just needed a pad to hit my bones. Another twenty minutes of drive and I reach the village Khorsil in Bageshwar district of Uttarakhand where the camp was supposed to be. I parked the car to one side and got off to ask the local villagers about the whereabouts of the camp because I had not seen any boards, signage, or signs to announce the existence of the camp. I was told that the camp “is” in the village itself and I could park my car on the village road and then climb down into the village. The camp staff seemed to have already spotted me and came on the road which was about 150 feet above the camp to pick up my stuff. I was relieved I wasn’t stranded or had to hunt for a pad to sleep for the night. Trust me had I not found the camp I would have had no two thoughts about requesting some villager to let me sleep at his home. Walking down the paved path of the village I was thankful that it was the camp staff carrying my shoulder bag and not me. When I reached the camp I realized that my guess was right and the two cars had opted out of staying at the camp and turned back. But as they say, you lose some and gain some. The families having opted out I got a tent with an attached toilet and bath. The first smile after the day of driving. I decided to put the added facility to immediate use but before that, I requested some tea, biscuits, and toasted bread. Having eaten, I immediately put to use the attached washroom and the cold bucket of water to take a quick bath. This acted like an elixir, waning all my mental and physical fatigue.
Having changed and with my slippers on I went for a stroll across the camp. It was past 730 P.M. and despite the long summer days of the hills the sun had set and I realized it was serene and beautiful. The calm of nature and the absence of the city noises were distinct and remarkable, so much so that I just sat for nearly an hour outside in that silence absorbing the complete silence. The camp help came to ask when I would like to have my dinner and I said now if possible. I was of course hungry. They laid out a small cane table with plastic camp chairs for me outside my tent. The dinner was a simple well-cooked wild rooster in a gravy, dal rice roti some vegetable dish, and bhang (hemp) chutney. When you eat the local produce you realize how the local food is still so flavorful unlike the modified seed produce that we eat in the cities now. Good or bad you get all produce year round and it tastes equally good or bad. With my stomach full I ventured for another round of the camp to realize four friends were also there for a leisurely stay (incidentally the only other residents of the camp). They were enjoying their game of carom and pool along with their rounds of drinks and invited me too. I politely declined, a) because I was in no mood for any drinks and b) because the label on the bottle wasn’t of my choice. The general conversation struck we realized that one of my neighbors was a relative of one of the boys, I wondered if I was saying too many hellos or if the world was small. The four of them were about 15 years younger than me and were surprised as well as fascinated as to how could I drive solo and be out traveling alone and all by myself. I too wondered if had I grown so old without realizing to was out exploring solo. On the other hand, having heard them mention this I was self-elated and somewhere mentally pepped more to go further, challenge myself and explore further. With what started as courtesy hellos and subsequent two hours of conversation I decided to retire and say my goodnights. I walked back to my tent to lie down pick my novel and read. In retrospect, I wonder what was I thinking when I was packing my bag to be carrying a novel a notebook, and a pen to write my experiences. Was I being too imaginative or confused? Nonetheless, I guess I was reasonably prepped for any individuality. Being in the wilderness could expose you to all kinds of insects or even snakes venturing into your tents so I zipped the mesh of my tent properly. With all these thoughts and just about a few pages of the book down I never knew when I had slumbered into a sound sleep.

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Day 2
I woke up reasonably early considering my standards, because, of course, I am not an early bird. Even on my earlier sojourns to the hills, I have experienced that a good night’s sleep wakes you up quite invigorated and fresh. Maybe it’s the lesser pollution and the overall quality of the air. My fatigue from the previous day’s driving, if any had vanished. I stepped out of the tent feeling the fresh mountain air and the cool sun, nice and orange peeping through two hills. Unlike our city life, we don’t have to slide our curtains and try to peep at the sun or walk to our balcony to have a glimpse of the greens. Here nature has already laid out a vast space of landscape, painted in hues of soothing watercolors. The camp help on seeing me came with my morning cup of tea and placed it on the cane table outside my tent. I just wanted to absorb that cool mountain sun, the silence, and the serenity of the Himalayan village with every sip of my tea. I did, and after the relaxed first cup, I requested for my second cup. Another round of tea was unlike me, but then, I had not had my heart filled with the chirping morning birds and the sparrows jumping all around me.
The sun gallops faster in the hilly skies I guess, it doesn’t have to zigzag and gallop over the high-rise apartments that dot the cityscapes or ghost walk through the concrete structures. By 8 it was already over the top of the hills. I freshened up and took a nice cold water bath which opened my pores and cells and invigorated me to plan for an exciting day.
I reached the common area for breakfast comprising of omelet, bread, and chillas. Over the breakfast, I asked the camp’s caretaker about the rappelling and the bridge crossing activities which I had read in the web brochure. He told me that the camp was set just before the COVID lockdown and the promoters since then have not been able to fully develop the campsite and the advertised activities that’s why there were no signage or direction boards as well. My next question is, so what about the hike to the waterfall? He apologetically (as if he was the cause) told me that the first spell of rain was delayed and hence the waterfall was dry plus the fallen pine trees had made it a slippery uphill hike. I wasn’t sure if all the negations were looking at my age and physical stature or was it due to the absence of a proper guide or if he was telling the truth.
I saw the four young men whom I had met the night before. They were ready to check out and had come for the breakfast. I asked them about the walk down to the river flowing down the village. They told me that it was more of a rivulet with not even waist-deep water. This simply meant my swimming trunks were not going to get a chance to peep out of the bag, at least today.
I was back on the drawing board to work on my plan for the day. Even though I had not made any firm itinerary still I did not waste my time and day.
I turned back to Google and after some browsing decided that a drive to Baijnath would be a good option. I shared my thoughts with the caretaker and he told me that Baijnath would be further down the valley and thus hotter and overcrowded. He suggested that I rather drive out to Patal Bhuvaneshwar. No that sounded exciting. I had heard about the place and also knew it was in the Pithoragarh district. I did not know that it was a drivable distance plus never knew when I would be this close to Pithoragarh. I was curious about Patal Bhuvaneshwar besides the place had been on my wish list too. It was my turn once again to shoot my barrage of questions, how far was it, what is the route, how much time does it take to reach, and on and on.
He was glad that I was opting for Patal Bhuvaneshwar and assured me that the visit would be worth it. He told me it’s nearly two hours and I could take the village road itself which was a little bad but a shorter route but I would save at least an hour and a half by not taking the highway. He suggested I could even go to the Kalika Mandir which was a few Kilometers from the Patal Bhuvaneshwar temple.
I was going to learn two important rules of the hills today.
My sumptuous breakfast over I was ready to plant myself behind the steering wheel.
As advised I took the village road and headed north. It was a rough graveled road just wide enough for two small cars to scrape through without kissing each other. About five kilometers down the road and nearly twenty-five minutes on my watch, I reached a fork. The road on the right was four inches above the ground, broken, graveled with a sudden left turn and a nearly 40-degree incline stretching for about 250 meters. And as the road curved beyond this stretch its further status was not visible to my eyes. The road on the left did show some well-traveled path, but in the middle where the tires might not have treaded were shrubs and grass growing about five inches above ground. The Google map indicated I needed to drive straight, I lacked the geometrical abilities of Google Maps, and what was straight was beyond my comprehension at that point. I just stepped out of the car unsure about the road to opt, no human in sight, and contemplating if making a turn back, driving an extra forty-five minutes, and trying to catch the highway, was the safer bet. I just lit a cigarette while waiting, deciding and unsure. Mercifully in a few moments, I saw two women in the fields above with their goats out for grazing. I asked them the way and they confidently directed me to the road on the right. I was taken aback by their confident and immediate response. Did they walk their goats till those roads? With not much of a choice, I considered taking the risk and I started my ignition, and off I was on a further graveled and inclined road with sudden turns. After all was it not the adventure that I had started for? Somehow it seemed the road had become narrower and I was wishing that I wouldn’t come across any other vehicle because crossing any vehicle on this road would be one hell of an adventure in itself. The graveled village road which I had taken from the camp now seemed like a tarmac. The road or should I call it a path with its constant incline deteriorated every 500 meters to the extent that it was getting difficult for me to drive without worrying about the underbelly of my car with its low ground clearance. I had no option but to move only at a snail’s pace. The road was a stark shift from the highways I was driving on yesterday. I was compelled to think that the new sarpanch must have got the well-laid concrete road dug so that he could get it made once again, after all, why should he lose on the commissions from the road contractor for re-laying of the road.
My flow of thoughts drifted and I thought we Indians are very apt at considering that the one car we buy is for all purposes. A city car or a sports-designed car has the attributes and abilities to ferry passengers like a bus, carry heavy loads, or even off-road like an SUV. After 45 minutes of what seemed like an eternity, I finally saw the blacktop of the highway. To get back to the highway I had to jump down a few inches on this blacktop highway. Well, jump I did but once again I was at the crossroads unsure if I should turn my car to the right or the left. Luckily I saw a few taxis parked on the side, I rechecked my direction with one of the drivers and got back on course after turning to the left. I eased my sitting posture relaxed the grip on my steering and was back to enjoy the winding roads once again.
The first lesson learned for the day is when a hill bloke says a shorter route it’s not an easy one.
The road from Kaflagir to Patal Bhuvaneshwar is picturesque. Even at the peak of summer when the trees tend to dry up it is not supposed to be as green. I switched off the air conditioning and rolled down the windows to let the breeze caress my face and ruffle my hair, with the scent of fresh leaves and tree barks all intertwined, Wildflowers along the road and the fresh forest air is something that has to be felt and I feel any words describing it can never do enough justice.
The road is the national highway 309 and comes from Almora. I crossed Seraghat, the Sarayu flows from here. With the glaciers yet to start melting fully and the rains yet to arrive the river was not in its full sway. The Ghats were not crowded. Saryu flowed so cleanly and freely with a carefree abandon here unlike at Ayodhya, where with all its celebrity status is neither as clean nor carefree. It didn’t seem to enjoy the daily festivities of the night arti but it seemed to enjoy its non-celebrity freedom here. The road further was as beautiful, at a particular point I could just park my car at a small curbside and click beautiful unobstructed views of the mountain ranges on either side.
It was nearly 1 P.M. when I reached Patal Bhuvaneshwar, it looked crowded but definitely unlike the traffic jam crowd I had faced on my first day. I smiled when I reached Patal Bhuvaneshwar it seemed like I had ticked off one more of my wish list destinations. The distance from Delhi is also just around 500 km but somehow it had never seemed accessible sitting in the city.
You have to walk down to the committee office that manages the temple jointly with the Archaeological Society of India. They seek your details and issue a numbered receipt, this number also decides when you get to enter the cave. My serial number was 80 and they were allowing entry for number 18 as of now. Soon I realized that each number is not for the person but the receipts may even carry up to a group of twenty. And there popped my balloon of a quick entry. For safety and smooth operations they allow only a specific number of people to go inside, and only when the last person has come out do they allow the next group sent inside. By this time the numbers were also swelling and I realized that it was more of the locals who visited here than the tourists. Was it the faith or accessibility I did not know. The committee office took a contingent decision looking at the crowds to allow nearly 150 people to go inside at a time. My chances of going inside in this batch seemed brighter now. Nevertheless, I could not take any chances and I pursued every seemingly right person to allow me with the group as I was just a solo rider and did not have any more people on my receipt. I was fretting because it takes at least an hour and a half for each group to come out of the cave. If I were to miss entry with this group I would not be able to enter the cave before 4 P.M and that would delay all my timelines for the day. Finally, my efforts of pursuing any and everyone did pay off and I was squeezed through the gate with the final receipt number of the group officially closing at 62. When I was entering the cave I was told to inform the person inside that I was the last entry. I entered the small gate and started my tricky climb in the cave which is 90 feet below the ground and you have to climb down the very narrow rocky passage with utmost caution. As a safety measure, they have fixed big iron chains that you can hold to climb down securely.
When I reached the bottom I was amazed by the vastness of the cave and the sudden feel of the positive vibes. I informed the official on the ground that I was the last entry. This was a cue to allow the people who had entered first and seen the cave to be sent up.
I realized that they had split the people inside into groups of 20 to 25 people in each group, with a group leader cum guide for every group who would show around the cave.
The cave is believed to be very old and rather than mentioning the CE and AD it finds its mentions even in the Skanda Purana, The temple cave has amazing rock formations symbolizing, Ganesha, Kaam Dhenu, Bhairav, the hair of Shiva, etc. It also has a shivling established by Adi Shankaracharya in the 10th-11th Century. The temple also seems to have been visited by the Pandavas, the guide even claimed that some caves inside are tunnels leading right up to Rameshwaram and Kashi. The natural ventilation made the cave cool and soothing. I did not want to allow my mind to dabble in between the science and myths of the guide, rather I wanted to soak myself into the surreal experience. I observed the temple committee did not allow any Prasad or flowers as offerings inside the cave, as a result, it had not succumbed to our human ability to create filth. The various groups had started leaving, I wondered about the human psyche of initially being in a haste to enter and being in as much haste to leave. Have we lost the art of appreciation? I just sat there waiting and trying to be the last person to leave and enjoy absorbing the immense positive vibes present there. Alas but then everyone had left and I had to leave too so I climbed out inducing some flexibility in my body and some gymnastic maneuvers, I collected my mobile phone and walked out. I did not want to defocus myself from that beautiful experience.
I got in my car and started driving back with a stop for tea a short distance ahead. The sumptuous breakfast had not reminded my stomach of any lunch. I was keen to get back to the camp in the sunlight hours. I saw a liquor shop and picked up two small bottles of rum, one for myself and one as a token gift for the caretaker.
The journey back was as smooth with no crowds just a thought crossing my mind that wished I had checked out from the camp today itself and headed to Dharsu La instead of going back but then there was no way of undoing it.
I was once again at the point where I was to either take the broken road and do some off-roading back to the campsite village or indulge in another hour and forty-five minutes and take the highway. It was nearly 6 P.M. and that encouraged my spirit of adventure and I took the road less traveled the second time in the day.
I reached the camp just at sunset with my rum bottles intact, for they had not jumped off the rear seat on the gruesome road sacrificing themselves to the Bhairav whom I had met in the cave just a few hours back.
The camp staff was pleasantly surprised that I was back so early because they had not anticipated me till later. Well, here I would like to mention the second learning of the day about hill folks. If they mention that the travel time is ten minutes be prepared to multiply that multifold.
Having settled outside my tent we got into a chit-chat when the caretaker left promising to send my tea and leaving his son to give me some company. He was a nice lad who worked in the outsourcing Industry and had come home from his marriage which was still in its first month. He told me that his leave would come to an end soon but luckily his manager had allowed him to work offline so he was away from the dreaded summers of the plains and getting time to spend with his family and his newly wedded wife. Over with the tea, I excused myself to go and freshen up. Another surprise of the day, the loo had run dry. I summoned the caretaker who tried to fumble with some valves and pipes before announcing that seemingly for some reason unknown there was no water in the reserve tanks which pumped water to the loo. He offered to send some buckets filled with water for my convenience. So much for my attached loo excitement. I don’t think I was left with many options so reluctantly I agreed. The bucket came and I washed myself up and under the open skies outside my camp laid out my bar to complete a camper’s ritual. After the ritual over and handing over the bottle of rum and some more from my bottle to the caretaker, I requested my dinner comprising of some nicely and homely cooked greens and paneer along with the regulars of roti rice and daal. I wondered if my appetite jumped two notches in the hills or if it was because I had skipped my lunch. Without pondering much I relished the dinner and it was time to call another day off.

Day 03
The day started fresh I could feel the effect on my body in even two days of unpolluted air.
Today I knew at least my starting point. I had to check out of the campsite and head for Binsar Wildlife Sanctuary.
With no water in the loo attached to my tent, I went to the common block of washrooms to get ready. Even the common bath and washrooms were neat and clean and I had no problems getting ready because there was running water in all the taps. The bath soothed my muscles more than the sleep and I realized I should have done the same exercise the evening before and my body would have been better charged for the day.
But it was not a morning for cribbing and being solo I did not have anyone to complain. I packed my bags and went for a sumptuous breakfast of Poha and Omelet with toast. I am not a major fan either but of the two I preferred the lesser devil and I opted for a double portion of Omlette and toast.
I cleared my dues and the camp help helped with my luggage to the car. Off I was to Binsar. The drive to Binsar was quite smooth and I reached the gate in an hour and a half. The weather was beautiful and being a forest range may be added to the additional coolness of the weather.
You have to buy a ticket to enter the wild reserve and if you are driving yourself you need to pay for your car too, I took my ticket at the gate after showing my identification I was all set to head inside. The barrier guard informed me that there was a ten-kilometer drive to the zero point but it’s a single road and broken at a lot of places so I need to drive carefully. Taking all the cues I was headed inside. Using the air-conditioning would have been disrespectful to the beautiful nature around me so I rolled down my windows and headed for the forest range. I had hardly driven a kilometer and thought why not a cigarette to enjoy in this beautiful wild range and this drive? Hardly would I have taken four puffs and I suddenly see myself being overtaken by a jeep and stopped. A fire protection guard stepped out and told me I can’t throw cigarette butts of my “Capshtan” in the forest. “Ah! I thought that’s the brand that is smoked the most in the region, so anything rolled in the white paper was a Capshtan for him. Well for a change it seems I was a responsible citizen. I showed him the cigarette ash can in the car and told him not to worry. He seemed satisfied and headed off. Well, I was using the ashtray can in the car and was aware but was also definitely impressed by the concern of the guards and their alertness. It was a beautiful drive not just in terms of the beauty of the forest but the broken single road also allowed me to have an additional amount of adventure of off-roading. It’s the kind of place where you have to be alert mentally and physically. Every curve, every slippery gravel, and every incline and sudden curvy descent is putting you to the test. It’s putting yourself to that extra mile, the challenge, the rush of adrenaline which makes it not just worthwhile but amazing.
I reached the top and parked my car. There were a few cars already but I couldn’t see any people. So either they had already gone for the trek to the zero point or they were staying at the government guest house nearby. The air around was nippy and the only sound was that of the various birds in the forest. I had asked the forest guard if there was a chance of spotting any animals and was told it was a distant possibility.
I headed for the trek all alone, I was told it was about two kilometers to the zero point. So off I was. The path was beautiful and I realized the need and importance of a trekking pole or a support stick. Also, I had not carried any water bottle which was my second mistake and learning, for the morning.
The walk was amazing, birds that I could not see in the forest but their varied sounds were like music. The path was laden with leaves and I knew that I had to be careful with my steps because one false step and the slip could be disastrous. The leaves also reminded me of something else. I have been meaning to get back to writing for a few years now but with no reading or writing the words seemed to have left me. And these leaves felt like words fallen off the tree. Soon I realized it was not just the words it was also the physical stamina that was eluding me. Before the words, I had to find the stamina to reach the top at the zero point. So it was one step at a time for the uphill hike. The forest department has put a lot of benches on the way so you can rest and embed in your memory the sounds of the birds, the rustle of the leaves, the freshness of the air, and course your breath before walking up again. The view of the Himalayan range is amazing all along the way. The trail gives you an impression of walking into an infinite of the woods. I reached the top where they had built a nice-looking watch tower. You can climb up the watch tower and get a wonderful 360-degree view of the beautiful Himalayan range. Unfortunately for me when I reached the top it was all misty and cloudy thus range wasn’t visible. For a second I did feel bad but the beautiful views I had been exposed to in the last two days didn’t make me feel low. So I some time spent at the top it was time at the watch tower with a family with their chirpy toddler of a daughter and a guide who they seemed to have hired for bird watching. The young couple was busy clicking away pictures with their mobiles, the toddler was oblivious and was more interested in the strewn pebbles, and the guide I think had just one word echoing through his mind “Alas”. For me, it was time for the descent and take the journey forward.
I headed from Binsar to my next destination, Kasar Devi, which was on my way to Almora. The altitude of Binsar is approximately 3000 feet higher than Almora. Which means I was descending from the cooler weather which I had thoroughly enjoyed for the last four hours.
I had not anticipated that the continuous off-roading yesterday as well as in part today adding to the unprepared walk to the zero point had stiffened my thigh muscles. I reached Kasar Devi and parked my car. I stepped out of the car and realized that my body was divided into three parts, the torso, the thighs, And the part of the legs knee downwards. And the thigh section seemed to be lead-laden. Option one was to sit back in the car relax a bit and head for an early rest stop, option two muster the will and climb up to the Kasar Devi Temple. I opted for the latter. I stepped out crossed the road went to the café, and had a cup of wonderful ginger tea. I saw two old couples who had just walked down from the temple and talking excitedly about their experience. Honestly, I was ashamed of myself. I finished my tea and went to take the steps leading from the road to the temple. I had barely climbed 20 steps when a monkey suddenly came from the adjoining trees and sat on a step that was about 5 steps from me. A young couple climbing down from the temple also saw the monkey and they too stopped. So now it’s a funny wait as to whether the couple comes down first, the monkey crosses past the step or I climb up first. The young guy it seems could not instill enough courage in the lady, so they were not ready to come down. The monkey was least bothered, after all, it was his terrain. I guess the onus of the decision was on me. I realized that in case the monkey turned towards me I definitely could not outrun him with my lead-laden thighs, so I had to project myself as the bigger animal and walk past him. I recomposed myself and started my upward walk and walked past the monkey projecting myself as the Alpha with as much calm as I could. I crossed the monkey and when I crossed the couple turned back to see the monkey slowly walking away. I guess I had set the order or the monkey was least bothered. But, in the process, I had lost on the momentum and also my breath. I climbed a few more steps and settled myself on a resting bench to catch my breath. My breath had settled but the weight on my thighs had increased a few pounds but then there was no turning back. So I started my upward climb and after about ten steps came to a large landing and saw a few cars parked there. I realized there was another road access and the cars could come up till that cleared parking area. Another 40/50 steps and I was at the doorstep of the temple. Does the testing phase end here, well no, I walked up to the temple and found the temple to be closed. I could either wait for the temple to reopen or walk down from there, but on enquiry realized that it was simply closed for cleaning and would open shortly. I just moved around the area and could see the specks of buildings in Almora. Looking at so many dots and specks I realized how much of the hills and forests we humans gobbled up. We humans are gluttons for land. If the earlier rulers and tribes acquired for settlements or expansions we present-day global citizens buy not for residing but also for so-called investments and social statures. Do we realize that in doing so we are killing the hills or disturbing the overall earth’s ecological balance, for it is just not hills, we will goad at beaches or any other serene place? Before my mind could head towards the philosophical distraught the temple doors opened. I headed for the small temple for my Darshan. The temple has two doors opposite each other so you can walk inside and walk out through the opposite one or walk back out of the same door. There is also a small but beautiful Shiva temple. You have to climb up another 50-odd steps to reach this temple. The Kasar Devi gets its prominence from the fact that this temple was visited by the likes of Swami Vivekananda, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, and Uma Thurman to name a few. The temple is also believed to be on the Van Allen belt, just like the Stone Henge in England and Machu Pichu in Peru, making it a magnet for cosmic energies. When I read the placard and checked on the internet about the various people who have visited this temple, I was compelled to wonder how come the foreigners still can come and find these obscure yet wonderful places whilst we just go to the major tourist destinations and end up visiting the limited few regular runs of the mill spots. Have we Indians limited our abilities to explore? Incidentally, the Kasar Devi area is also known as Hippie Hill.
I walked back the same way and once again saw a monkey sitting in the path, I wondered if it was the same monkey but then, this time I just walked past calmly and reached my car.
I checked for the distance to Katarmal Sun Temple and it showed around 45 Km, it was already close to 4.30 in the evening and I realized I would lose sunlight by the time I reached and I did not want to visit a Sun temple in the absence of sunlight.
I opened up the travel apps to check for a place to stay in Almora. I could have gone to Almora and done and checked in person but I decided to book a room and head straight. Having booked the room for the night I headed straight to a small hotel which was close to the Mall road. By the time I reached it, it was already five thirty. I landed myself in a room which though had a window but the window opened to the un-plastered walls of another building. So with no enticing view, I decided I would rather take a shower, rest, and retire early. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I could hear the rain on the window glass. I changed and walked to the reception area and stepped out to see the drizzle. The drizzle had given my car a complimentary wash and all the dust-laden, rough look that comes after some bits of off-roading had all been washed off. The weather failed to lure me out of the hotel and walk the mall road to see the same herds of tourists flocking from the plains and the windows stacked up with goods procured from the plains and sold as hill produce. So it was back to the room. I ordered a simple daal and rice for my dinner because anything more I would have ended up leaving un-eaten on my plate. I hate wasting food, I have always wondered why the hotels do not offer something like a thali for single occupants or light eaters. Maybe someday we will start seeing these kinds of options too, more frequently.
With food in my thoughts and taut muscled legs, I went off to sleep.

Day 04
I think the fresh air gets further washed and cleaned after a night’s rain in the hills.
The morning was fresh but the thigh pain though reduced persisted. I had not received the muscle spray that I had requested at night but I realized I had some oil in my toiletry pouch. So I gave my thighs a soothing massage and started repacking my bags. I was to check out from the hotel and move towards the next direction.
All packed and freshened and with my thighs having received the benefits of the oil massage, I was ready for my check out at 8 A.M. I stepped out of the reception area and it was sunny but not as warm as the day before. I guess the night rain had sprinkled some magic.
My destination was Katarmal Sun Temple. The temple was about 20 K.M from my hotel. Before starting I checked the opening time of the temple and it said 6 A.M. I felt maybe I should have started earlier and headed for the sunrise at the sun temple. But then I said what the heck why the hurry?
The drive to Katarmal passes over the Kosi River. About a kilometer before the cut which takes you off the highway and takes you towards Katarmal, I saw a small road going uphill. I was wondering if that was the road I needed to take when I saw four bikers also pondering over the same question. My map showed I still needed to go further though the bikers took that road and I headed further straight. About a kilometer away, I saw another road with a sign saying Katarmal. I turned left and took the road. The road was a single road not as good as the highway but not as bad as the roads I had off-roaded on in the last two days. In the meanwhile, I saw the bikers also joining me on the road. About 2 Kilometers on the road we saw a sign on an open piece, indicating parking for Katarmal. I deliberated with the bikers who believed that we should still head on the road else it would be that much further a hike for the Sun Temple. I voiced my concern that in case there was no parking place further they would be able to turn their bikes or park on the roadside but it would be difficult for me to park my car. They reassured me that till now we haven’t seen anyone crossing this road either in any form or vehicle or on foot so we might as well take the chance. Well, they headed off and I also decided to take my chances. About a Kilometer further, I saw the Katarmal village. There was a small Kumaon Mandal tourist café. The café was on stilts with parking for about 8 to 10 cars. I parked my car and asked around for the way to the Sun temple. I was told I could drive a further 300 meters park my car there and take a hike through the village fields or I could leave my car here and take a walk on the cobbled pathway which was longer but easier with shaded resting benches and small tea stalls etc. on the way. I opted for the cobbled pathway. This pathway passes through the village houses. And I could see the apricot, peach, plum, and local mango variety trees in the backyards of these houses. I was glad and reassured that I took this path because I had ample seating places if I needed to rest. Closer to the temple I could see the 200-meter and 100-meter markings putting restrictions on construction by the Archaeological Survey Of India which now manages and oversees the upkeep of the temple.
I reached the temple entrance and was simply mesmerized. This a 9th-century temple built by the Katyuri Kings. The complex has the bigger sun temple and the smaller group of temples on either side. When I reached it was just those four bikers who had taken the village fields’ route and me. I was surprised how the place was so beautiful, serene with all-round beautiful views and still absolutely without any crowds. I realized it was a boon to enjoy the peace and might as well. I went inside and the priest stepped in from the adjoining room to open the iron grill gate so I could step inside the main temple. I saw the statues of other gods also there and on inquiry the priest informed me that parts and artifacts from the temple were being stolen so all the statues from the smaller temples in the complex had also been moved here.
I spent some blissful moments there. This was the third ancient sun temple that I was visiting I recalled. The first two are the Konark in Odisha and the Martand Sun Temple in Kashmir.
I walked back to the car and decided to catch something to eat at the café where I had parked my car. I stepped inside and though it was about 12.30 in the afternoon I saw just a lady cleaning the dining area. I asked her if I could get anything to eat and she politely apologized and informed me that all she could offer was tea. Her fellow female workers finished their daily chores and came from the nearby villages and they were still to arrive. Also generally the visitors come and preorder the food and go to the temple, which is ready by the time they come down from the temple. So I realized it was just tea for me.
I stepped down from the café and saw a small stall and bought some hill jams and pickles to take back home. Let me confess I have a thing for jams.
I started my drive back and on my way back missed a turn and instead of heading towards Ranikhet I headed back towards Almora. I crossed Almora and stopped at a local sweet and savory shop for my brunch. The samosa with black Chana and the bun makkhan with tea was amazing. I have always found the buns in the hills to taste different from what we get here in the plains. Brunch over, I had some Baal Mithai which is the local mithai at the display counter. While getting back in the car I suddenly realized that till now I had not eaten the Pahadon wali maggi. Anyway, I didn’t miss it either. So now I was headed more downhill.
The highway is under repair. The sections which are complete are a dream to drive on but in the sections where the work is underway one needs to be careful.
I reached the Kainchi Dham and it was not as crowded as the day when I was driving towards Binsar. So I parked my car and went inside the Kainchi Dham. Despite the crowd, the management by the volunteers was on the spot and I was out of the Temple in no time. I headed back to the parking, picked up my car, and headed back.
While driving a thought crossed my mind. Kasar Devi was visited by the likes of George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Uma Thurman, Ma Anandmayi, Swami Vivekanand, and Robert Thurman. Kainchi Dham was visited by Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, and Jeffery Skoll. So did it mean that if you were into philosophy or creative arts you were to visit Kasar Devi and if you wanted to be on the internet and technology route you needed to visit Kainchi Dham? Random thought to myself but it did bring a smile. Well, the thought chain and the traffic at Bhowali made me miss another turn towards Bhimtal and Mukteshwar and I ended up heading back towards Nainital and Haldwani. Guess my subconscious was directing my maps now.
The drive back was relaxed now. By early evening I had reached Kathgodam and I needed to stretch my legs so I pulled my car to the side for a refreshing glass of lemon water. Many families had also stopped for the lemon juice at the end, bidding adieu to their holiday in the hills.
For me I don’t think it was an end to a holiday I think I had opened another vista for myself. To explore the world at my own pace, at my convenience, and like a nomad looking only for pastures.
The radio silence was over and the random songs and advertisements were now playing on the radio. I was relaxed and driving back. I reached Rudrapur and realized I needed a tea break and something to eat. The moment I stepped out of the car I was hit with a gust of extremely hot summer wind of the plains. I realized the hills were not warm because, in the relative index of heat, I had come from the cooler regions. Over the tea, I once again contemplated on rerouting myself towards the Jim Corbett Wildlife Park. It was a mere 45-minute drive, but then I realized that I would end up seeing more humans than animals with all tourist destinations being overcrowded.
So with my tea over I headed on the highway for the four drive back home. The plains of Uttar Pradesh are famous for their varieties of mangoes. I stopped at Rampur and picked a local variety called Surkhi. I found it to be a nice pulpy mango with well-balanced sweetness and tanginess, just short of being sweet and sour.
My car was now full of fruity bouquets of smells with a mix of mangoes, plums, litchis, and apricots. But outside the car, even the highway was getting fuller with traffic. With no further stops I reached home after being 14 hours on the road with my intermittent stops. Having parked I realized I was sleepy though not tired, maybe I had come back from a refresher course.