 "Ambler's Diary: Utter peace on a hilltop")
A lone eagle soars over Gallu temple. I take a deep breath under the scented shade of the deodars as I gaze at the rocky path, where a long way ahead, lies our destination — Triund, the verdant mountain ridge that many trekkers call the jewel of McLeodganj in Himachal Pradesh. Just then, my phone rings. It’s a friend in Delhi, puzzled why anyone would want to make the trek to Triund. “So it’s just the top of a mountain, isn’t it?” she asks. I say yes. “With no electricity, no water and no loos?” she persists, adding thoughtfully, “It must have really fantastic views…” She’s spot on.
At 2,875 metres above sea level, Triund is as close to the snow line as someone as unfit as I can hope to reach. An easy/moderate eight-kilometre trek from Dharamkot (11 kilometres from Mcleodganj), it offers breathtaking views of the Dhauladhars and the valleys below. We adjust our backpacks, weighed down by a large and decidedly unadventurous packed lunch of pooris, pickles and spicy potatoes. “We’ll eat only when we reach the top,” I tell the kids and husband. And we set off, motivated by this somewhat dubious incentive.
The breeze is cool, the sun strong. Masses of rhododendrons sometimes hide, sometimes part to reveal stunning vistas of the valleys below. The climb is steep in parts, made tougher by the loose stones underfoot. Ahead, a lone shepherd polices a large herd of sheep on a precipitous slope, and I recall that this is one of the oldest migratory routes used by the Gaddi shepherds of the Chamba and Kangra valleys. After about an hour and a half of steady puffing and panting, we see the tip of Moon Peak, peeping from behind the hill. A tea shop looms on the horizon. It is aptly called Magic View. The owner, Joginder Sharma, plies us with apple juice and water even as he admonishes the children to throw garbage in the large dustbins nearby. “The mountains are a gift from god,” he says, “we shouldn’t spoil that gift!” Sharma is active in a local group of cleanliness freaks, Waste Warriors, who have spent the last few years cleaning up Triund. “You’re now heading towards the most interesting part of the trek,” he says as we leave. Ahead, he adds, lies a snow nullah where the kids can frolic and play.
At 2,875 metres above sea level, Triund is as close to the snow line as someone as unfit as I can hope to reach. An easy/moderate eight-kilometre trek from Dharamkot (11 kilometres from Mcleodganj), it offers breathtaking views of the Dhauladhars and the valleys below. We adjust our backpacks, weighed down by a large and decidedly unadventurous packed lunch of pooris, pickles and spicy potatoes. “We’ll eat only when we reach the top,” I tell the kids and husband. And we set off, motivated by this somewhat dubious incentive.
The breeze is cool, the sun strong. Masses of rhododendrons sometimes hide, sometimes part to reveal stunning vistas of the valleys below. The climb is steep in parts, made tougher by the loose stones underfoot. Ahead, a lone shepherd polices a large herd of sheep on a precipitous slope, and I recall that this is one of the oldest migratory routes used by the Gaddi shepherds of the Chamba and Kangra valleys. After about an hour and a half of steady puffing and panting, we see the tip of Moon Peak, peeping from behind the hill. A tea shop looms on the horizon. It is aptly called Magic View. The owner, Joginder Sharma, plies us with apple juice and water even as he admonishes the children to throw garbage in the large dustbins nearby. “The mountains are a gift from god,” he says, “we shouldn’t spoil that gift!” Sharma is active in a local group of cleanliness freaks, Waste Warriors, who have spent the last few years cleaning up Triund. “You’re now heading towards the most interesting part of the trek,” he says as we leave. Ahead, he adds, lies a snow nullah where the kids can frolic and play.