I thought I would write about our trek that I thought would be the highlight of our trip. It was not, for a couple of reasons. One of course was that we did not complete the trek as planned, but still one section - the Likir-Yawnthang piece was quiet grueling, considering that we had never done high altitude treks, and in fairly cold conditions ever before. I am tempted to come back and do a bigger, tougher one, but I am sobered by my fitness to not want to brag about that possibility. Our guide of course was very encouraging - he wants me to come back for the 8-day Marka Valley trek next summer. Insha Allah!
So here I am writing not about our trek but about two people who epitomize the spirit of India in general and of the Ladakhis specifically.
Tashi has been our driver for this trip, ferrying us around Ladakh in his Xylo including to our trek drop off and pick up points. Probably 30, he is lean, tall, and with chiseled features. He is from Nubra Valley up north, hundred kilometers past the famous Khardong La pass and not far from Siachen glacier. He lives in Ladakh twelve months a year.
Nurboo has been our trek guide the last three days leading us through ravines, gorges, and passes, alongside mountain streams, and highways, through thick green vegetation and through barren moonscape, essentially through such varied a terrain that only Ladakh can offer. Nurboo is possibly 35, short, tanned, very muscular, and like Tashi, extremely pleasant. When he was six, poverty drove his mother to send Nurboo off to stay at Bangalore's Maha Bodhi Ashram and study at Arya Vidya Shala. He finished his 12th grade and moved back to Ladakh to work. He joined the army, but quit a disappointed man after three years.
He then became a mountain tour guide, taking teams of Trekkers and climbers on trekking trips or climbs to some of the biggest peaks in this region. Of course, he is an accomplished climber, having done the tallest and toughest peak here - the Khang Yatze that stands at 6,400 meters. He aspires to climb Everest in a couple of years, if his Sherpa friends admit him as one of the porters that are part of any climbing group. Since winters are bleak with no work, he sometimes heads to Goa to work waiting tables, but does not enjoy it. He would rather be climbing or being a guide in some other part of India than wait tables. If roads are closed, and if air tickets get exorbitant, he is stuck in Ladakh for the winter. Which is where my story begins.
As winter sets in, tourist season draws to a close by October. That's when Tashi and Nurboo hang up their keys/trekking boots respectively, and head to "the glacier" for work. Siachen as all know is one of the highest military posts in the world, roughly at 20,000 feet. Known as one of the coldest and harshest places on earth, over 2,000 Indian army personnel are stationed there to protect our borders from Pakistani intrusion. This large contingent has to be fed, clothed, armed, and taken care of. While choppers and transport aircrafts drop materials and men regularly, the army depends heavily on "civilian porters" to bring rations and weapons from the base camp. Nurboo and Tashi are two such porters.
They check into base camp for medical examination, and if they make it, wait for their turn to be rostered. The wait could be a day or a month, as hundreds of Sherpas and Ladakhis apply for this horribly tough job. When Tashi and Nurboo eventually get rostered, they are on the job for 90 days at a stretch, then are off for two weeks, and then potentially do one more 90-day round.
Once rostered, Tashi and Nurboo are kitted out with socks, boots, water and weather proof clothing, headgear, googles, pick axes, ropes, gloves, bedding, rations, et al. They go through a one-week refresher course on high altitude climbing and survival techniques. And then they are on the job.
Each is allotted a team (six porters to a team), and each member is given a cargo of between 20 and 25kgs to carry to a designated post, which could be anywhere from 4 to 15 days away, with Kumar post the closest and Siala post the farthest and most dangerous, with constant enemy gunfire to deal with.
The ascent is near vertical, climbing a 75 degree ice wall, well over two hours before they reach relatively flat land. Beating howling winds, sub zero temperatures, ice, and heavy snow, they then begin the trek with their precious cargo, for the next several days to their post, in single file, each roped to the next. It is not uncommon for them to have to deal with crevasses on their path, which are dangerously hidden sometimes under fresh snow. Tasha's friend who was ferrying cargo on a snow scooter fell into a crevasse. He climbed out of the scooter only to fall into a deeper crevasse. Thankfully he had his army issued satellite phone to call for help. Help arrived reasonably quickly, and he was rescued - but not before he had spent 17.5 hours in the crevasse, barely living. That man apparently is back in his job!
If the leader falls into a crevasse (Nurboo said matter of factly), the other immediately use their axe and brake their walk so that all are not pulled in. The "hanging leader" is then pulled out, the crevasse marked, and the journey continues. If bad weather interrupts their journey, they make ice caves and wait it out till they can resume their grim walk. There are way stations for night stops, where they rest after a typical 8-12 hour day. Once they arrive at their destination, they drop their cargo and get some much needed rest - hot food, some card games, and general chatter. Tashi found soldiers extremely unhappy with their hellish 90-day posting in Siachen, but he wonders why. He thinks it is tough but fine. He loves the job and the fantastic pay that comes with it (Rs 22K a month), and the thrill of the climb.
After a couple of days rest (and incredibly, a bath!), the team is ready to descend, only to come back with the next set of precious cargo. And what could that precious cargo be? Apart from a million other things, it's kerosene. What is Rs 800 for a 22-liter can down in the plains ends up close to Rs 1.25 lacs by the time it reaches the soldiers in Siachen. It's precious not because it costs that much, but because it is the lifeline for the people guarding our frontiers at 22K feet. And for people like Nurboo and Tashi, the unsung heroes in the protection of our motherland.
So here I am writing not about our trek but about two people who epitomize the spirit of India in general and of the Ladakhis specifically.
Tashi has been our driver for this trip, ferrying us around Ladakh in his Xylo including to our trek drop off and pick up points. Probably 30, he is lean, tall, and with chiseled features. He is from Nubra Valley up north, hundred kilometers past the famous Khardong La pass and not far from Siachen glacier. He lives in Ladakh twelve months a year.
Nurboo has been our trek guide the last three days leading us through ravines, gorges, and passes, alongside mountain streams, and highways, through thick green vegetation and through barren moonscape, essentially through such varied a terrain that only Ladakh can offer. Nurboo is possibly 35, short, tanned, very muscular, and like Tashi, extremely pleasant. When he was six, poverty drove his mother to send Nurboo off to stay at Bangalore's Maha Bodhi Ashram and study at Arya Vidya Shala. He finished his 12th grade and moved back to Ladakh to work. He joined the army, but quit a disappointed man after three years.
He then became a mountain tour guide, taking teams of Trekkers and climbers on trekking trips or climbs to some of the biggest peaks in this region. Of course, he is an accomplished climber, having done the tallest and toughest peak here - the Khang Yatze that stands at 6,400 meters. He aspires to climb Everest in a couple of years, if his Sherpa friends admit him as one of the porters that are part of any climbing group. Since winters are bleak with no work, he sometimes heads to Goa to work waiting tables, but does not enjoy it. He would rather be climbing or being a guide in some other part of India than wait tables. If roads are closed, and if air tickets get exorbitant, he is stuck in Ladakh for the winter. Which is where my story begins.
As winter sets in, tourist season draws to a close by October. That's when Tashi and Nurboo hang up their keys/trekking boots respectively, and head to "the glacier" for work. Siachen as all know is one of the highest military posts in the world, roughly at 20,000 feet. Known as one of the coldest and harshest places on earth, over 2,000 Indian army personnel are stationed there to protect our borders from Pakistani intrusion. This large contingent has to be fed, clothed, armed, and taken care of. While choppers and transport aircrafts drop materials and men regularly, the army depends heavily on "civilian porters" to bring rations and weapons from the base camp. Nurboo and Tashi are two such porters.
They check into base camp for medical examination, and if they make it, wait for their turn to be rostered. The wait could be a day or a month, as hundreds of Sherpas and Ladakhis apply for this horribly tough job. When Tashi and Nurboo eventually get rostered, they are on the job for 90 days at a stretch, then are off for two weeks, and then potentially do one more 90-day round.
Once rostered, Tashi and Nurboo are kitted out with socks, boots, water and weather proof clothing, headgear, googles, pick axes, ropes, gloves, bedding, rations, et al. They go through a one-week refresher course on high altitude climbing and survival techniques. And then they are on the job.
Each is allotted a team (six porters to a team), and each member is given a cargo of between 20 and 25kgs to carry to a designated post, which could be anywhere from 4 to 15 days away, with Kumar post the closest and Siala post the farthest and most dangerous, with constant enemy gunfire to deal with.
The ascent is near vertical, climbing a 75 degree ice wall, well over two hours before they reach relatively flat land. Beating howling winds, sub zero temperatures, ice, and heavy snow, they then begin the trek with their precious cargo, for the next several days to their post, in single file, each roped to the next. It is not uncommon for them to have to deal with crevasses on their path, which are dangerously hidden sometimes under fresh snow. Tasha's friend who was ferrying cargo on a snow scooter fell into a crevasse. He climbed out of the scooter only to fall into a deeper crevasse. Thankfully he had his army issued satellite phone to call for help. Help arrived reasonably quickly, and he was rescued - but not before he had spent 17.5 hours in the crevasse, barely living. That man apparently is back in his job!
If the leader falls into a crevasse (Nurboo said matter of factly), the other immediately use their axe and brake their walk so that all are not pulled in. The "hanging leader" is then pulled out, the crevasse marked, and the journey continues. If bad weather interrupts their journey, they make ice caves and wait it out till they can resume their grim walk. There are way stations for night stops, where they rest after a typical 8-12 hour day. Once they arrive at their destination, they drop their cargo and get some much needed rest - hot food, some card games, and general chatter. Tashi found soldiers extremely unhappy with their hellish 90-day posting in Siachen, but he wonders why. He thinks it is tough but fine. He loves the job and the fantastic pay that comes with it (Rs 22K a month), and the thrill of the climb.
After a couple of days rest (and incredibly, a bath!), the team is ready to descend, only to come back with the next set of precious cargo. And what could that precious cargo be? Apart from a million other things, it's kerosene. What is Rs 800 for a 22-liter can down in the plains ends up close to Rs 1.25 lacs by the time it reaches the soldiers in Siachen. It's precious not because it costs that much, but because it is the lifeline for the people guarding our frontiers at 22K feet. And for people like Nurboo and Tashi, the unsung heroes in the protection of our motherland.
Comments
Thank you Naresh..
I wonder how I missed reading this.