Trek Ladakh

I had to force myself to concentrate on the path straight ahead, too scared to look to my left where one false step on the slippery one-foot wide path could send you into a unwanted death slide. Suneel and I moved slowly, careful to test the grip of every step we as we zig-zagged across this steep ridge leading to the Maptek-Lago Pass (elevation: 12,300 ft). Coming to a fork in the path, we looked at eachother, unsure of which to take and not wanting to go th wrong way in such isolated and barren terrain. Luckily, we look behind to to see a small village woman with a makeshift wooden backpack trudging along at fast pace, completely ignoring the steep drop to her left (and most likely amused at our clear unease and confusion). Although she speaks no English and I certainly don't speak Ladakhi, she understands that we need to get to Ang and signals for us to follow. The trek that we did connects five or six very small, isolated and self-sustaining villages. Many of the villagers, like this woman, trek daily for hours between villages and know the ins, outs and subtle intricacies of each path better than most of us know our own cities. Even more remarkable is that all village children (being compulsory to attend school - education is highly valued in Ladakh) beginning at the age of five will trek to and from school every day (two hours each way). In two of the villages we visited, we had the opportunity to visit the local school some of which only have five students but nonetheless remain open and the teachers are enthusiastic, talented, and well-revered. More about the Ladakhi culture in a later blog.Overall, out trek lasted two days and we covered a significant amount of ground. Leaving early in the morning on Friday, we trekked all morning and saw absolutely no one. There is a real sense of isolation and awe from being in such a grand place that you just don't get when hiking through a national park in say Colorado. Here, the trails are not marked. Guidebooks are sparse and there is noone to rescue you if things go awry. Nonetheless, Suneel and I were up for the challenge and reached a small village known as YangTang around 2 pm. Hungry, we knocked on the door of one of the six or seven homes and signaled that we were hungry. Being such gracious people, after removing our shoes, we were ushered into the kitchen where we sat on the floor, with the grandfather of the family and another member of the family man who were also awaiting lunch. The son, who had answered the door spoke decent English having attended College in Chennai and coming home to be a local mathematics teacher in Ladakh. The grandfather, who eyes were glazed over from old age and face was criss-crossed with deep lines resulting from years of trekking, agriculture and daily life sat opposite of us smiling, wearing a typical Ladakhi wool robe and and continuously spun his small prayer wheel. The other man was helping to prepare lunch, making what resembled large gnocchi balls with thumb prints from wheat flour and barley. All the food was pure Ladakhi and the meal was known as Skuu. Its a very simple dish - only vegetables (Ladakhi Buddhist natives are mostly vegetarian) and only vegetables and different breads, grain and pastas can be found in the villages. The best part is all the ingredients are grown by each family in their personal gardens / farms. Each village and each family is completely self-sustainable growing wheat, barley, spices, and vegetables. Water comes fresh and pure from the glaciers. Although the locals don't eat meat, they herd Yak, cows, goats and sheeps in the mountains and bring them down periodically to use their manure for fertilizer and their fur for clothing.After a very memorable lunch, we headed out again from YangTang en route to Hemis, the small village where we planned to spend the night. Several hours, steep passes, and beautiful views later, we reached hemis. Hemis is one of the medium-sized villages. There is a monastery in the town and several homes, all of which have specific names. We stayed at Toro Pa which means waterfall in Ladakhi.I woke up around 6 am and sat on the roof of Toro Pa watching the sunrise. The views are breathtaking. Directly in front of me is a lush green valley dotted with small homes, creeks, a few trees and more than a few Buddhist stupas and prayer flags with snowcapped mountains and red rock and stone hills as a backdrop. We had a traditional breakfast - cooked fresh - we watched the cook make the dough, roll it out and prepare the rotis (plain wheat bread) over an open fire. Tea is a must with every Indian meal as well - and is even more emphasized in Ladakh where they have their own special teas.We departed Toro Pa around 8 am heading fo Temisgam (we pass through Ang on th way) - the final village on our trek. The last stretch is the most physically and mentally challenging. This is where we encountered the death-defying ridge path and ascended several steep passes over 12,000 feet (photos to come). We reached Ang and then Temisgam many hours later - tired, sore, dusty and hungry. From Temisgam, we made our way to Nurla - a small village on main Leh-Srinagar highway where we jumped onto a random worker bus for a four hour journey back to Leh. The bus was old, dusty and completely packed. Regardless, they accepted us on board - I was offered a small space on the floor between four sets of smelly feet, next to some trash. I was able to nestle myself in for the ride. Four hours later, we reached Leh. I blew my nose to reveal (sorry for the details) snot brown and black from all the dust. It wasn't a pleasant trip but a great ending to a very satisfying and exciting journey.Tomorrow morning (Sunday) I depart solo to Rumbak - a small village in the Hemis High Altitude mountains. Here, I am doing a Ladakhi homestay in a small village for two nights and then hiking back out to Leh. Another adventure awaits, another story. I'll be without electricity for a few days hence no computers - more to come soon.