My tryst with Dayara Bugyal

Written by PRANAV LAL
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When the journey is the reward. When this IT geek and visually-challenged author decides to take on his own complacency and accept a trekking challenge to the rolling meadows of Dayara in Uttarakhand

The breeze was behind me. It was gentle. I stood under the stars balanced on the slope, and tried to banish the images of rolling downhill. Mother Nature was calling but my body was frozen despite the layers of clothing; no wait, it was my brain, unwilling to give up the security of my current position on a 30 degree incline.

I cannot tell when my passive interest in wanting to climb a mountain crystallised into a firm desire. Perhaps, it was when I realised, Atul, my friend who I had known for over a decade and who had been on several treks, was willing to organise another one. Or was it all the dystopian literature I had read?

Many friends have asked “Why?” The question is a logical one. Why leave the comforts of civilisation and voluntarily subject yourself to hardship? The answer, gentle reader is that I wanted to do two things. First, I wanted to test my brain; could I survive without my technology and the trappings of civilisation? Second, I wanted to take pictures using my visual prosthesis called the vOICe, which converts images to sound. I had read much about the beauty of the mountains and I wanted to capture that. I could have done the second with your average trip to a hill station but the former, certainly not.

Things moved quickly after my call to Atul. Tata Steel has an adventure sports department headed by Bachendri Pal, the first Indian woman to climb Mt Everest in 1984. Word spread and before I knew it, we had a group consisting of six sighted people, 14 people with varying degrees of visual impairment and five trainers from the Tata Steel Adventure Foundation.

My first problem when preparing for the trek was the lack of specific information. I wanted to know if I could charge my mobile phone at Dayara. I then wanted to know what the terrain would be like. Would I need climbing gear? How much rope should I carry? For once, the internet failed to come up with the Answer.

There was also the question of training. I spend most of my day sitting at a laptop. That sort of lifestyle would not give me the stamina and endurance I needed. I am fortunate to live in a building with five floors and a clean staircase. I began to climb up and down to build my “climbing muscles”, which had the fringe benefit of trimming my body.

The trek began on October 2, with a ride to the Old Delhi railway station. I will not bore you with a blow-byblow account of the rest of the journey. One of the most harrowing experiences came when we had to get to base camp for the first time. I had had a seven-hour ride from Haridwar to Kaflon. The Bolero I was in came to a stop, my baggage was unloaded and I was left along with the group standing at the base of a hill. There was not enough light for my sighted escorts to navigate effectively. It was just the forest and us. A river ran to our right. One slip meant we would be in the drink. We did have a guide but he was ahead of me. We got up alright using mobile phone flashlights. The good thing was that no assent was too much to handle after that point.

From Kaflon, we trekked to Bernala, Dayara and as the bonus, to Dayara pass. The promised snows did come and I had a chance to appreciate the beauty of the mountains using the vOICe.

I was successful. I saw a mix of dark and light with different textures. Mountains were hard sort of dark shapes, while clouds were bright and soft. There was sunlight between these, which had no shape so was a loud blob.I did see plenty of grass, rocks and the camp in general. One thing that surprised me was my ability to manage without a clock.Sunrise and sunset were all that mattered.

I had planned to use the vOICe on the trail but that did not happen. I was too focused on putting one foot after another. I knew I should not be worried. My feet knew where to go. Did I slip? Not once on the main trails. I slipped while climbing up to the camp and recovered without any damage.

I had a chance to reflect on management. In management and other walks of life, more information is considered a good thing. I am no longer so sure about that. At least on the trek, less information proved to be better because I did not have to cognitively process so much and was able to let my feet do everything.

The hiking pole and the time I spent at the spinal injuries institute was one of the best investments I made. My left palm resembles a hammer. I wanted to hold the pole in my left hand while holding the escort with my fully formed right hand. I am eternallygrateful to Nekram Upadhyay for his hairdryer shaped splint which allowed me to strap the pole to my left hand.

My heights and distances calculations went out the window. I had asked muleteers the question “How far to Dayara?” most answered “1 km” or “not far now.”I stopped thinking of our destination. It was just the present, namely the next step, and the world around me. If I had a pedometer, things would have been different, perhaps, but who has the time to look at it? All I eventually carried was my rain poncho, water bottle, my mobile phone and a sweater.

Will I do it again? I do not know. I have resumed training but that is for general maintenance. It is good to stay in shape. Much more of the world is accessible to me and I am less dependent on motorised transport though appreciate it much better now.

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