HEARD OF VALLEY OF FLOWERS? BETTER VISIT THE RALAM VALLEY

A few valleys in the inner Himalayan Ranges remain at low key yet their beauty and grandeur may be far superior to some of the popular ones. The village Lilam on the right bank of the Gori River can rightly be termed as the entry point of Johaar Valley, as well as to the Ralam valley. Opposite on the left bank of the river, the winter village and permanent settlement of the Ralamwasis, the Paanto is situated. One could just reach the village across through a hanging bridge. The route through the village Paaton leads to the Ralam valley, which is around 35 odd kms away. It would seem difficult on the part of the readers to follow the route and the series of settlements, since I preferred to follow the dictates of my mind, which was borne of my own presumption that it would be all the more preferable to make the extensive study of the Johaar valley, entering through the Brijkang top, i.e., the bridge between the Ralam valley and the Johaar down below. More so, I intended to survey the Ralam valley in all its grandeur, principally the extensive Marjhali bugyal, in its prime.

We reach the village Paaton and find it all deserted. Not a single soul, it’s hard to believe. Well it is the harvesting season for Yar Tsa Gumba, we reckon, but all the villagers? We cress cross the village, a lone face protrudes out of the window, an infirmed poor old, left behind, all alone! The village is actually a conglomeration of around four villages together, and thus it’s all the more surprising-where are the inhabitants? In the season when potatoes and the rajma (beans), the two staple and remunerative crops grown in these areas shouldn’t have left any vacant space available in the village, I find the fields completely desolate! I enquire from the old person, if we can get food? He takes pains to guide us to Bacchi Singh Rawat’s home, who has taken leave from his job to act as middleman to sell Yar tsa Gumba. He tells us that everyone, all the children, the youth, the women, the grannies, the grandpas, all who could travel 35 kms through to Ralam, have moved out. ‘But, what about the cultivation-the potato, the rajma?’ It’s a question, which I have been asking myself throughout-a traditional lifestyle all changed by a single factor-Yar tsa Gumba. What will happen when this resource all together gets vanished, the way they are exploiting it, will no doubt, eventually will lead to it. ‘Back to the basics, grow potato, Rajma, fight off the monkeys, who are out to destroy the crops.’, replies Bacchi Singh, as if knowing what I was thinking. The belief-make hay while the sun shines, needs to be tackled, and very urgently.

The trek to Ralam is a tedious one. We are told that the cost of the ration in the far off Ralam is just the double of what we get at Paaton, and so we are left pondering, whether to buy the goods and carry the same-35 kms, through the ridges, river banks and more importantly through Pairaars (the landslides prone zones). We decided otherwise. It’s a steep climb, and with the sun beating down on us, the trek takes a toll on one’s determination. There’s no respite- one stands to look ahead, the path wriggles to the top, which is more often than not, remains obscure from the blurred vision, drenched with sweat. While there’s always a tendency to lie down, but because of the sun, one is left with no other option than to continue ahead. A small temple devoted to the regional god- Harsling comes into view, signaling the end of the torturous climb.

The months of July-August offers the rich variety of flowers, lending soothing effect to the tired limbs.

We offer our prayers, light the incense sticks (as told by the village kinsmen at Paaton), and look smilingly at the deeply forested route ahead, but no sooner I feel something mischievous wriggling in my thigh-Damn the blood thirsty leeches! As the sun was neglected, so too the leeches. We are now treading in the steepest slopes I have ever come up with; rather slope is not the right word, for you are not walking on your legs but on your bottoms, and at times on all your fours! The porter tells me that it’s all the way down to the Ralam Gad (syn. rivulet)! Then why make a route so steep, to the top, only to descend down! Then to add salt to the misery, when the riverbank is so near, we are made to climb up, then down, at least half a dozen times till we finally reach our destination for the day- Lingrani, probably named because of the abundance of pteridophytes, the ferns locally called Lingura, a delicacy. The first thing we do is to collect wood, logs to burn through the night, as we are told that baby cubs of bear have been sighted very recently, and thus beware! With thick bushes and forest that surrounds you from almost three sides, and the river in the front, you are left with no escape routes. That night I recite the Gayatri mantra or slokas before going off to sleep-may be it would save us from the bears!

Next morning we breast ourselves for the long trek ahead. We start out very early, around 5:30 AM. From Lingrani, it’s the most picturesque paths one would come across. Even when it’s all zigzag way up, the route offers the best that nature has to offer- the white-pinkish flowers of panger (Aesculus indica) give way to bright red, subsequently pink and then bright white flowers of Burans (Rhododendron sp.). In midst, the all-giant Kharshu (Quercus semecarpifolia), laden with epiphytes, the orchids, the lichens (locally called jhula) and mushrooms, leave your jaw wide open! Mid-way through we decide to stay for a while in Marjhali-the alpine meadow seems to have no end. The seer size overwhelms me. Added to its grandeur are some of the most beautiful sights one would come across. On our left the sacred mountain of Harsling, followed by Birjgang top, ahead the Ralam glacier could be viewed, and circling one’s eyes to the right, across the left bank of the Ralam gad, are the twin peaks of Switla and Rajrambha. If this is not enough, innumerous waterfalls hurtling down on both the sides, with herds of sheep leisurely grazing. One need not be Wordsworth to appreciate all this!

The alpine meadows of Ralam appear to be lush green and more productive compared to those present in the adjacent Johaar or Darma valleys, principally due to higher rainfall and mild climate. Shady moist places especially north facing slopes of the Marjhali bugyals, is rich in Mitha (Aconitum atrox), hence the shepherds avoid grazing in these areas, for the simple reason that this species is toxic to the livestock population, but for the eyes of the beholder, the extensive distribution of the same gives a blue tinge to the whole landscape. It is difficult to fathom, one so beautiful could be toxic too! The major bugyal sites, apart from the Marjhali (which is located enroute to the Ralam village), include Rajrambha, Rajthor, Darmithor, Bishanthor, Galpari, Sangalpa, Yangchari, and Sipu Gwar.

Even though the village Ralam is way far ahead, but because the same could be viewed throughout the trek, one need not hurry and thus enjoy all the more. When we finally arrive in the village we are met with an ugly sight. The religious ceremony had just finished and the male folks were all drunk from intake of the locally brewed Chakti. It leaves a bad taste in the mouth, for we find ourselves in a very precarious situation where one wants to loosen oneself away from the smelling horde of drunks and at the same time not even dream of offending them! I know habit relates to habitat, that drinks and all its accompaniments are not just essential but rather desirable as survival kits in the cold environment, but then these thoughts or knowledge-base are best to be written forth and not faced up to!

The very extensive and rich Marjhali bugyal will out compete the more famous ‘Valley of Flowers’, not just in floral diversity, but all because of its grandeur.

We inquire about Prahlad Singh, the resource person; we had been advised to meet. We are told that he is experiencing a severe headache (born out of drink, for sure). We set up our tent way away from the village, and immediately set off for procuring ration for ourselves, before it’s too late! The pradhanpati (the term for husband of the gram pradhan-a lady) earlier on our arrival had requested us to be his guest, and then after an interval lasting for a mere quarter of an hour, had turned to offer us food for the night right in our tents, made us a bit wary, if the same would be delivered as promised! Its mutton served. We lunge ourselves towards the pressure cooker filled to the brim and the bowl. My student, Khaggi makes a vent search for the mutton pieces…a total of four to five pieces of the same is unearthed to be shared between three of us! The next morning, the first man to venture into our tent is Prahlad Singh, accompanied by a kettle carrying tea. How soothing (at least I have still not forgotten the treatment last night). He is one man I immediately start admiring (not for the cup of tea though) for his forthright approach, his entrepreneurship, his foresight and more importantly his zeal to share what he believes to be right. Where everyone fell back, he volunteered to breed the yaks, till nonexistent in the valley. The story of how he undertook the task of bringing two pairs of yak, all the way from Tibet to his village, and then successfully breeding them, withstanding the harsh climatic conditions, the bitter cold, the snow (when every soul has long left for their winter homes), is a lore in itself.

We leave behind the porter, Hira Singh with instruction that we will return back from the Ralam glacier, which is located a good 4-5 kms ahead, by 2 PM. No sooner that we had ventured for the destination, and what looked so crystal clear and mighty from a distance at the beginning, turned obscure behind the veil of clouds. But then we were determined to make it to the glacier and to view the same from the close quarters. Also, I had planned to trek, a minimal distance on the path, the Sangalpa meadows and thence to the Sipu gwar, and in probability, I thought could approach the cone-shaped Sweetla peak, which appeared so very near. It all remained a dream, awashed. We had to hurriedly turn back for the weather had turned worse. The day was then planned to be spent with the people in the village, who were hard to locate, for the same reason-Yar tsa gumba. They would only return back around 5 PM. The rainfall, which proved to be a deterrent for us, obviously did not have least affect on these people.

Where else will one come across a herd of Yaks in their natural setting? This species numbers in just few hundred across the length of the Himalaya

Next morning, after bidding good bye to Shri Prahlad, we left the village Ralam for Johaar. The locals pointed out the route, atop the Brijkang ridge to be followed, and it all seemed so easy. Infact, there were times when we just didn’t lend our attention to the details of the route to be followed, being offered by the helping Ralamwasis! For all this negligence and forbearing attitude, we needed to be paid, and paid dearly. We lost the path. All the way through Paaton till Ralam, I was harbouring doubts about the efficacy of our porter, who had claimed to know all the routes in the region. We were for surprise, when he led us to all together a different path, a route which was long last forsaken by the locals themselves. Atop the Marjhali bugyal and very near to the Brijkang top, the porter left us behind to look out for the path ahead. We all knew that the ridge separates the two valleys, and crossing the ridge and moving down the other end will no doubt lead us to the Johaar valley, but which segment, or whether there existed a path forward? The questions were aplenty. Still we decided to go along with the dictates of the porter, who was adamant to go ahead. We would only know later, what was in store for us. The actual path from Brijkang leads to the village Bilju, the path we were treading upon would lead us to the village Khilanch, a good 11 odd kms behind and that too, if we were formidable enough to crisscross the pairarr, the landslide prone zone, which, due to its accompanied dangers was avoided by the locals too, including the daring anwals!

The panoramic view of the Switla Range across the Ralam village.

Somehow, we slide down through snow, spreading out our legs, with hands buried into the snow to retard the descent down. Steady, steady, steady, the thoughts keep coming. It’s a beautiful face of the mountain, when we finally reach to the safety and gather strength to look back. Travel, in general, and more so in the mountains, is a kind of sensory deprivation. You crave for the little things you least desired for in the past. Resting my back on the gentle grassy slopes, above the village Khilanch, I dream about the chocolates, hot gulaab jamuns, and, and…. And as if the god was lending his ears to my calls, I am given a slice of radish along with a pinch of salt, peppered with red chillies, dried mint leaves. I divorce the same in a single munch, and out of the feeling that I have a right to ask for more, extend my hand towards that lone philanthrope in the wilderness. He turns his head away. I am left dumbfounded, and slowly, very steadily retrace my fully extended hand back, in a mock way, as if I was pointing at something way ahead! Do I hear laughter at my back? This was the only way that Hira Singh, the porter could pay me back. It was only when we finally reached the village Khilanch, could Hira divulge out that it was for the first time that he was traveling through Ralam and now would..through Johaar. Poor soul! The trek had proved tough for him too, as he would later say.

The Route
The nearest railway head is Kathgodam, from where one could easily hire a taxi directly to the township of Pithoragarh, a good 220 kms! Or better still one could rather visit the nearest tourist destination, Nainital, just around 30 kms away. One could then hire a taxi for Pithoragarh. Why hire a taxi, because then one could easily avail of the culturally significant sites such as Jageshwar Dham, which falls enroute. From Delhi, one could also board a bus from Anand Vihar Inter State Bus Terminal for Haldwani or Almora or directly for Pithoragarh via Tanakpur. From Pithoragarh, it’s another 135 kms to the Munsiari Township, where after reaching, due inner line permission must be sought from the Tehsil headquarters-A Must. Very often the tourists halt at Almora township, and undertake the route through Verinag, Choukori and Thal to reach the township of Munsiari, which lessens the journey by a day. For the border township of Dharchula, it’s 96 kms from Pithoragarh. Again, due inner line permission must be sought from the Tehsil headquarters-A Must. One should carry a medical certificate, along with two passport size photographs (since the same would take a whole day long to procure!) to lessen the time spent at Tehsil. One could then set off for the night halt at the village Dar, located at a distance of around 25 kms ahead.