I set myself the challenge of trekking the Indian Himalayas – specifically the Markha Valley trek, with Kongmaru La Pass being the goal. It took a lot of planning, preparation and perseverance, but I can honestly sit back and say it was the greatest achievement of my life at that point.
After flying in to New Delhi for a night, I was on a plane bound for Leh in the state of Jammu and Kashmir – the Himalayas. As the flight approached the city, the glistening tips of mountains tore through the clouds just to remind me of how high up I was and how daunting this terrain truly can be. I have been fortunate enough to do a lot of skiing in the Alps, so I’m comfortable with mountain terrain; but when the airport you’re flying into is higher than some ski slopes, it really does hit home.
Getting off the flight, the first thing you notice is the air – it’s a world away from that in Delhi. It’s clear, crisp, and tantalisingly thin. It took a little time getting used to, as I lugged my bag from one place to another, but the exhilaration of being in the Himalayas was far more powerful than the sense of breathlessness. I spent some time in Leh to get acclimatised and to explore this seldom-seen corner of India before heading onto the mountain trails. Leh is an incredibly cultured and historic place with beautiful palaces, plenty of old buildings, artisanal crafts in the streets and, of course, Kashmir scarves and rugs. It’s astonishing how they managed to build palaces and huge residences on the side of mountains nearly 4,000 metres up; when you remember that these were all constructed by hand with no rulers or mechanical tools, it is certainly impressive.
Outside of Leh is the town of Stok which would be my entrance to the Markha Valley. I met my porters and horses (which I’m terrified of) and began to put one foot in front of the other. After only two hours or so of starting the challenge, I was already higher than Mount Fuji in Japan (3,776 metres). Lying directly ahead of me was a granite fortress of mountains and passes that offered the most incredible scenery I have ever witnessed. The sheer size of the mountains and cliffs that loomed around me was something that took me completely by surprise.
At the end of the first day, after setting up my tent and getting myself sorted for the evening, I simply sat outside and watched the sun drop behind the mountains and illuminate the clouds in a rich pink hue. The isolation and pristine tranquillity of this part of the world were something I had never experienced before. I had been in remote locations such as desert islands and barren plains, but there was (and still is) something incredibly humbling about being in such a place. It’s an alien landscape with flourishing green riverbeds and cereal fields, but contrasted heavily against the bleak brown-grey of the granite walls that form the mountains. The unrelenting size of the mountains surrounding you really does make this sense of isolation even more daunting.
A couple of days into the walk, I approached Ganda La Pass. Walking got steeper and slower, with views getting more and more incredible. At 12:30pm I reached the top of Ganda La Pass – higher than any mountain in Western Europe at 4,878 metres and still another 400 metres short of my goal further on the trek. This was the highest I had ever been in my life.
I think the sensation I will remember most, and would probably best use to describe the trek, is serenity. The only sound is you walking across stones, perhaps an occasional whisper in the wind, and there is nothing but pure nature surrounding you. At the end of each day, as you set up your tent and start boiling some rice, you know you’ve made it. You’ve made progress in one of the harshest landscapes on the planet, and you can’t help but feel complete. Looking around your camp and sipping a warm cup of tea you will notice the greatest range of colours in the sky that you can imagine. From the clearest blues and turquoises, to intense reds and purples, and finally the light of the moon and stars illuminates you. Being 4,800 metres up a mountain with no artificial lights and with a cloudless sky, you get to see the Universe. I will never forget having to force myself to go to sleep most nights because I was spending far too long counting shooting stars and simply absorbing the intensity of the stars.
Finally, the big day arrived. I was going to summit Kongmaru La at 5,290 metres and reach the goal I had set out to accomplish. I packed up my gear and set off. The air was very thin and it was quite cold at this altitude, but that didn’t bother me. As the route got steeper the adrenalin started kicking in. I knew that each step was bringing me closer to my prize. I can vividly remember hearing my breathing and my steps scuffing along the dust and rocks in a set rhythm, keeping me focused. I looked up and saw that the trail suddenly stopped about 30 metres away from me as it dropped over the peak of the pass. I was looking at the path simply disappear into the sky – from dusty brown to pristine blue.
I dug in my boots and jogged the final few metres to be greeted with the most phenomenal view I have ever experienced. The valley I had been working my way through opened up and I could see mountain after mountain stretching far into the distance. The prayer flags on the summit fluttered in the wind and the patches of ice and snow glistened in the morning sun. I must have spent nearly two hours stood on the summit just absorbing it all. I made my way to the highest point on the highest rock at the top and just sat there. I constructed a small stupa (or cairn) next to the main body of rock riles and left some prayer flags (lung ta) I had brought with me, as is the tradition in the Himalayan region. I ate my lunch, just relaxing and gazing in awe at the size of the mountain ranges and the size of my accomplishment before making my way down the other side.
The Markha Valley Trek offers students a challenge of a lifetime. Speak to Alex about planning a trip for your school to this special place in the Indian Himalayas.
