Inside the valley of death

With Kedar Valley still angry and unpredictable,there was a thin line between being intrepid and ending up as an addition to the death statistic. But we decided to set off.

We start from the town of Guptkashi,though the weather forecast isnt encouraging. We hire a car and by late afternoon,we are on our way to the town of Sonprayag,about 3 km away. We hope to reach Gaurikund,the point from where pilgrims begin the 18-km trek to Kedarnath,by nightfall.

The car trundles along broken roads till we reach Sonprayag at 3.30 pm. From here on,the road isnt motorable. The town had been wrecked in the floods and the Mandakini had risen several feet. At Sonprayag,with only about three hours of daylight left,we have to hurry. We move quickly through the rubble that was the river bed. With the rocks loose and the weather looking menacing,we couldnt have moved around in this region after dark. No sooner do we start the trek than it starts raining. We change into our waterproof gear and briefly take refuge under a rock face. But there is no time to wastethe fog is getting thicker and the light fainter.

Half a mile up from what used to be Sonprayag town stands a makeshift bridge that leads to the road to Gaurikund,where one of the biggest landslides had occurred,burying hundreds who were trying to take the bridge. Right where the rickety bridge now stands flows the voracious Mandakini.

This was the first major obstacle that we had been warned of. As we put our weight onto the bridge,the structure creaks under us. We hurry across. Scattered around us are shoes,slippers and bags. Somewhere in the rubble we see what was once the road that connected Sonprayag to Gaurikund.

As we cross this rubble and slush,our feet sink into the mud while the stench of the dead hangs heavily in the air. Behind us,another hail of rubble and rocks speed down into the river. We survive that. We need luck in generous doses if we have to be back safe. Around us,the Mandakini roars and a steady drizzle rains down. These are our constant companions during this trek.

With a large part of the trail washed away,the only option for us is to climb up through the forests. We cut a track through thick vegetation,our hands and legs swollen and bruised from brushing past stinging nettles. We trek this way for about 4 km,an effort that takes us four hours. By 7 pm,we are finally in Gaurikundwet,sore and hungry. On those good days before the calamity struck,the travel from Sonprayag to Gaurikund would have taken 20 minutes,but now,with the road and the track gone,Gaurikund has transformed into a faraway,lost part of the mountains.

Gaurikund is the base from where the Kedarnath pilgrimage starts,with a pony trail of 18 km to Kedarnath. The town is now a wreck. Some of the shacks that were once shops are now relief bases of the Uttarakhand Police.

A group of about 20 peoplepolicemen and sanitation workersare the only people here and they greet us warmly. We are the first outsiders they have seen in a long time.

We have been here for 10 days. We want to go back but they dont send us, says Sanjay,a PWD worker. They all look exhausted and are worried that if they dont make it out of here within a week,the landslides will leave them stranded. The police team advises us to be on higher ground and so we walk up to Gaurigaon,a settlement of about 40 houses perched above Gaurikund town.

Around 7.30 pm,we spot the settlements of Gaurigaon. Most of these houses are empty,with families having escaped to Rudraprayag. The few villagers who stayed behind have been surviving on government aid. We decide to spend the night at the home of Tridhar and his family. Tridhars wife and daughter-in-law make us some tea and a dinner of rotis and dal. His son Manoj lights a fire,which seems the best thing to have happened to us in a long timethe constant drizzle during our trek having left us cold and damp.

Our beds are ready and we crash out,exhausted from the days trek.

Early in the morning,Tridhar directs us towards a hill top,from where,he says,the police have built an alternative trekking track. This track leads us a few hundred metres up into the forests and then comes to an abrupt end. Axes,handle bars and spades lie at the spotthe weather has hampered work.

Karan insists that we trek through the forests. He is sure we will find a way that will connect us to the remaining track somewhere. With Karan leading us,we walk through thickets growing out of rock faces,climb through cliffs on all fours and roll down jungles of stinging nettles. At one point,we are lucky to have landed a few inches short of a treacherous gorge which plunges straight down into the Mandakini.

We can see bodies lying around,their belongings and water bottles strewn all over. These people had tried to escape the flood by taking the route we had just taken. Many appear to have lost their way and died of cold and fatigue. A body lay under a blanket.

As we move ahead,the stench grows stronger. Stranded mules stand chewing on whatever they feel is edible while around them,many of their kind lay rotting in the mud. A human body lay spread out under an electricity pole,swamped with maggots. This is turning ghastlythe rain,the fog and the silence are getting to us.

We finally get back on to the yatra trek. More bodies scattered around. This is more of a graveyard trek. Sad and lonely,the five of us are the only living entities,yet lifeless.

Its post noon and we are now at Jungle Chatti. On the regular yatra trail,this stopover is a two-hour trek from Gaurikund,but today,it has taken us much more. The flood has spared some of the shops here. A short rest here and soon we head for Rambada.

Rambada is just 5 km from Jungle Chatti. The track is mostly intact. Near Rambada,a small river had swelled dangerously. Locals had warned us about this. This is the last major obstacle we have to crossjumping over the river onto rocks that dip straight into a huge gorge. Each of us leaps across. If there is something called leap of faith,this is probably it.

In Rambada,a huge landslide has devoured everything in its path. Moving ahead from here is impossible. The entire hill has given away under the landslide and a deathly fog blocks the way. Except for the air-rescue operations,so far no one has been able to move any further from here to Kedarnath.

That evening,we set camp at Jungle Chatti. There is enough ration and food to survive on and wood to make a fire. We have a shack for shelter and three mules for company.

Time for us to head back to Sonprayag. Sticking to the yatra track,we reach just above Gaurikund by 8 am. On our way up,it had taken us four hours through the forest,but today,we decide to use ropes to swing across the broken trail. We are lucky that a police team has attempted the same shortcut and has left their ropes anchored to the rock face. Fortunately for us,we make it out safe. Gaurikund is now just 15 minutes downhill.

From Gaurikund,we trek down to the Murkatiya temple. We now have to cross the landslide above Sonprayag. But unfortunately,the adjoining hill has given away under incessant rains the night before. So now,the only way out is to walk back 3 km and climb above the temple onto the high hills and then trek for three hours. This is the most difficult phase of the trek. We inch along the rock face. Even a tiny misstep could be fatal and we would roll down the hill into the river below.

Three hours later,around noon,we are finally in Sonprayag.

Nature doesnt take too kindly to being dared. We were lucky to have gotten away; many didnt.