A Short Walk in the Dhauladhars

We wake just before 6am to the sound of heavy rain and strong wind. A check of the online forecast suggests that the rain will end at around 9 and it should then be sunny with the possibility of a light shower at around 3 pm. If this window of opportunity comes to pass we plan to do some of the Triund Trek, which heads up a hill that overlooks McLeodganj from around 9,400 feet. This was recommended to us last year by our secret agent but the weather was just so bad it was out of the question.  We repeat breakfast from yesterday, but remain firmly indoors while the rain persists. It ia looking too hopeful at first but then it suddenly clears at about 9.15. We get our stuff together and make our way to the auto stand.  Purists probably start their trek in McLo but an auto up to the Galu Temple will save us a couple of hours of uphill plodding. We recognise the track as the one that we walked yesterday afternoon as far as the fork where we stayed on the level. Our driver turns up the hill on a very rough and steep track. At one point we have to get out and walk up a very steep section. The Galu Temple is perched on a saddle where there are views over into the next valley and of snow covered peaks further north into the higher reaches of the Himalayas. The range in this area is known as the Dhauladars.

There is a small car park at the temple with a couple of taxis parked up and a few people milling about a scruffy looking canteen tent. It is definitely a pleasant morning now and we set off up the well trodden track at 9.50. If the notice board is to be believed our starting point is at 2100 metres above sea level, about half as high again as Ben Nevis. We have the track to ourselves and we make decent progress, climbing steadily,  but not too steeply. Immediately striking are the large rhododendron trees, all with red flowers, that cover great swathes of the mountainside. These are also home to some very elusive small green birds that just will not stay still to be photographed or even identified. The views down over McLeodganj and Dharamshala are spectacular. We can even see the Test Cricket ground through the haze The peace of the mountains starts to be disturbed by shouts from above. Groups of young men are descending with all of the essential equipment that you would take on a trek. Lurid sneakers, aviator shades, leather jacket casually slung over one shoulder and, most essential of all,  a means of playing amplified music so the guys can sing along. In due course we discover that these people have spent the night camping up at the top. In our view they don't look to be suitably equipped to catch the school bus but they appear to have survived.

There are a few more groups with serious equipment and some containing female members who do not look thrilled with their outdoor experience.  We are particularly amazed by the footwear in evidence. Winklepickers, sandals, flip flops, trainers with the laces removed, deck shoes are just a few of the types that would get wearers a stern lecture in the Lake District fells. After just over an hour we make it to the Magic View Cafe which certainly has a great view and makes a decent cup of black tea. Their sign says that the altitude here is 2500 metres. We are caught up by a party of young Canadians, one of whom kindly agrees to take our picture. We take stock and decide to review progress at 12.30. Under way again we turn the next corner to find the Best View Cafe but it was difficult to choose between them.

Our steady progress continues, meeting more descenders and being overtaken by a pony train carrying essentials to the catering establishments closer to the summit. We pass hollows containing what at first appears to be snow but which is in fact accumulated hail, presumably from yesterday's storm. We are well below the permanent snowline but looking up can see a lot of white stuff between ourselves and the objective.  At one point we catch up with two of the Canadians who are in conversation with a couple of Indians who look a bit more like serious trekkers. One of them says that it is about 25 minutes to the top. We are getting close to our review time and this piece of info persuades us to keep going.

We now get to the hardest part of the ascent, a series of 22 zig zags across the face of the mountain, made a bit tricky by a layer of six inches of rapidly melting hailstones. The prospect of a fairly rapid conclusion to this particular torture keeps us going and suddenly we are there. We had expected a summit but Triund is described in the guide book as 'the most beautiful' meadow and it is a flattish saddle with higher ground to b the east and west. Today it is slushy and muddy, lacking something in the beauty department.  It does not help that some of last night's happy campers have walked away leaving vast amounts of rubbish behind them. We do get a good view down into the next valley and up towards the peaks to the north but already the cloud base is descending. There appears to be debate about the altitude here. Various sources quote different figures. D liked the one on the notice board - 2875 metres.

The Triund cafe is a bit less salubrious looking than the Magic View but does a tasty black tea with ginger.  With this we have our banana and biscuit lunch and then set out on the descent. It is just after 1 pm and we have an eye on the weather as it has clouded over and got a bit cooler. We make our way down the zig zags, getting wet feet in the process,  despite having half decent walking shoes. How anybody does this in deck shoes or flip flops is beyond our comprehension. By the bottom of this section we are starting to flag a bit, but top up on biscuits and boiled sweets, which gives us a bit of a boost. Two young men heading up hill ask if we have seen two girls.  Do they think we are some kind of Dating Agency? At 2.30 we are back at the Magic View Cafe where the man greets us and puts out chairs.  We thank him but tell him that we just want a couple of Twixes to give us a lift. D mentions that the clouds seem to be closing in and the weather might be a problem.  "It will be fine" he tells us. None the less we press on. 

From time to time we are asked about conditions up the hill. R dispenses advice freely. "Don't go in those shoes".  Thunder starts to rumble around the mountains and at exactly 3 p.m. there is a short burst of hail followed by steady large rain. We dig out the rain jackets and the new day pack's rain cover makes its debut. A couple of young women who actually heeded R's advice catch up with us and walk down hill with us under an umbrella, seemingly unconcerned by the regular flashes of lightning.  They are dentists who decided to set out on the trek rather late in the day and whose 4 companions are further up the mountain.  Perhaps these are the two missing girls. The rain slowly gets heavier and starts to turn to hail as we are in site of the Galu Temple. There are taxis parked there and a man directs us to one as the hail starts to absolutely lash down. 

We scramble inside, glad to be out of the deluge. The hailstones are the size of marbles and hammering on the car roof. In no time the track is white over but our driver seems familiar with the terrain and makes steady progress down through the forest until we come up behind a Delhi-ite in a Suzuki who appears to be a bit nervous in these conditions.  The bed of hail is now three or four inches thick on the track and there are streams of water cutting channels through it. The man from Delhi stops then starts again a couple of times until coming to a dead stop at a hairpin bend. A heavily laden jeep pick up is coming the other way and sliding about on the road as he lacks the traction to climb round the bend. There is a string of taxis behind him. The hail is still in full force and we sit there for a few minutes until it eases. Our driver gets out to investigate along with a few more from the queue that has built up behind us. Apparently the driver of the jeep is worried that even if he could reverse the load is so heavy that the brakes would not hold on the icy slush and he would slide off the track. People are starting to unload bricks and window frames off the pick up and onto the verge. Others are trying to clear the surface of the track in front of the Delhi man. Most of the taxis heading uphill realise they are on a loser and turn back, easing the problem ahead.  

Eventually the road is cleared but Mr Delhi has got cold feet in more ways than one. He seems very reluctant to take his car down round the bend. We have now been static for 45 minutes and for the first time somebody back in the queue blows their horn. This produces an immediate result and Mr D is off. We follow and before long come to a halt again. Some madman is trying to drive his auto up the hill through the accumulated hail slush. A few taxi drivers quickly manhandle the auto through 180 degrees and we are off again,  with R shouting abuse at the Delhi-ite and our driver trying hard to suppress his laughter. There has not been as much hail in the centre of McLeodganj but just as we get out of the taxi the heavens open and we are soaked again on the hundred yard walk to the hotel. Hot showers then tea and cake are in order. We hire a room heater for the night and arrange our clothes to dry, before dining in the cafe downstairs. Quite a memorable way to spend our thirty sixth wedding anniversary.