Kuari Pass – Home of the eagles
As we take the train from Delhi to Haridwar, Uttaranchal Pradesh, we once more feel the truth in the often used description of this country: “India is an attack on all your senses”… When booking the trip, luckily we had the brilliant idea that the chaotic jumble of the city might be a little tiresome – which is why we decided on a trek in the Himalayas.
After a careful deliberation of about 1.5 minutes we conclude that our earlier decision was correct: A mind boggling, major polluted and 40 degree hot Delhi might not be exactly what we need at this point in life. (Needless to say, China is steaming hot and crazy as it is).
Thus a train ride north had us some time later arrive in Rishikesh, a town of approximately 70 000 people situated on the banks of the holy river Ganges. In this spiritual setting, topped off by a surrounding of placid forested hills, lies the place that calls itself ‘Yoga Capital of the World’ – with all due respect.
Rishikesh is packed with ashrams, holy men, pilgrims and New Agers of any possible kind. Try Kundalini yoga, Zen meditation or chakra healing. Read the ‘Autobiography of a Yogi’ while sipping Ayurvedic tea and waiting for your vegetarian meal (the whole town is vegetarian!) This is definitely the place for mind expansion, whether you’re looking for inner peace or a trip to other dimensions.
This is also definitely my kind of place, but much to my dismay I have to accept the fact that time is limited and we don’t have more than two days before setting out again.
We’re off to go trekking in the Himalayas and on the morning of the third day we are warmly welcomed by our guide, Bharat and the cook Chandan. Together with one helper, two herdsmen and four mules they are going to take us on the famous Kuari Pass trek. But first we start with an eight hour drive from Rishikesh to the small village of Ghat, our starting point.
Jeep ride through sadhu country
We hop in a jeep and set off. The ride is a lot more smooth than expected, taking us through rolling hills and not too many heart attack moments. In spite of the heat and arduous terrain we see pilgrims and sadhus (holy men) everywhere.
The sadhus are something of a kind. Often dressed in colourful clothes with beards, long hair and painted faces they sure look like something out of a fairy tale. All they carry is a small bundle and their alms bowl, walking from one holy place to another and living only on what they are given.
Finally we arrive in the small village of Ghat. We head out of town and get to a spot where we can pitch the tent in a meadow by a river full of clear, gushing water. The place is quiet and we even manage to take a quick bath, hoping that nobody will see us. You can never know for sure. India is like China: people in every bush!
The next morning we set out on the trek. It’s a lovely sunny day with clear blue skies and after about an hour of nice flat walking we start to head uphill. As usual I soon forget about everything around me and drift off into my own world, following a rhythm and a beat only I can hear. The path is smooth, made out of wide, lightly coloured stones and steadily winding its way up.
Nature’s encounter
It’s getting pretty steep and after about another hour I stop to catch my breath and admire the views. I’m quite far up and the valley below seems endless. So deep, so wide, so quiet, in the distance dotted with tiny villages. This is my first day in the Indian Himalayas and I feel so excited!
Standing there, looking out and feeling happy, I suddenly detect a notion from above. I look up and to my great amazement find a huge bird of prey flying right over my head. My breath gets caught in midair, eyes staring wide. Of all the places we trekked, far and near, wilderness and high altitude, never have I seen such a large bird of prey at this close range.
It’s a beautiful dark brown eagle with creamy white belly and neck. The wings are white and brown showing a distinct pattern. It’s so close I can see every feather on the strong sleek body. I even hear a faint sound as it’s moving through the air, sailing gracefully and effortlessly right above me and on out over the gracious space below.
The whole experience only lasts for a couple of seconds, but the feeling is incredible! As if the earth stopped revolving to give me a chance to look nature in the face. A touch of the infinite, a taste of the raw power that nature is made of.
From a distance I watch it sailing around the valley, soon nothing but a small speck, visible against the backdrop of forested hills only because of its white markings. It’s all quiet up here and I feel an immense surge of happiness in my heart.
Attraction of the year
We’re climbing a lot this first day, passing through many villages, all conveying a mixed feeling of the Brothers Lion heart and utter squalor. Cows, water buffaloes and skinny mules franticly trying to get some nourishment out of the already overgrazed fields. Ragamuffin children with clothes stale of dirt staring curiously under mops of dishevelled hair. Grown ups bent over fields of wheat or rice, laboriously working their days away.
But that curious look is almost always followed by the gesture of palms pressed together in front of the chest and the word “Namaste”. That is the traditional greeting. And the stunning beauty of the mountains is like balm soothing the sight of poor villages. The first night we could wash and fall asleep to the sound of a rushing river, but tonight, Bharat tells us, as we’re moving along at a steady pace, we will camp by a village.
Hmm, by a village… Well, we know that in the Himalayas it’s not always possible to camp in the wilderness. There are lots of villages and sometimes the only flat spot is where the village is. But oh well, we’ll be fine we tell ourselves. So does Bharat.
“I will put up a toilet tent”, he assures us. “Oh that won’t be necessary “, we reply in chorus. “We’ll just slip into nature, no problems”. “Er, actually you will need a tent”, he counters with a knowing smile.
As we keep moving through the hillside terraces this is nothing we think further about, until a few hours later when we reach the village. Our camping spot to be is not outside the village as I had hoped, but instead, due to the terrain, right smack in the middle of it. This is the only flat area for miles.
Needless to say, in a small, poor and primitive village in the Himalayas life goes by without nothing much happening. To have, not only strangers passing by, but something as exotic as a couple of odd looking foreigners, with odd looking packs on the back – and – red and yellow tents! – well that’s just about on par with a circus coming to town.
Within seconds of our arrival we’re surrounded by heaps of children who all, without exception, keep closing in on us while staring in wild eyed amazement. During the next hour there’s great commotion as the mule men are pitching the tents, we are unpacking our gear and the cook is collecting water from the stream.
The children have scattered into smaller groups and settled down for the entertainment. They’re simply sitting or lying on the ground, just a few meters from this glorious piece of unexpected action.
As we sit down to eat we have about 20 kids in a circle around us, fixing us with their unyielding gaze, silently observing our every movement. We’re mouthing down this rather strange meal and I suddenly realize that, yes, a toilet tent might actually come in handy…!
Bathing in a tropical spring
The next day we wave goodbye to the children and set out on a four hour long trek through fantastic scenery of deep mystic forests. Hillsides covered with wild silver oak and rhododendron bring us once again to Lion heart country.
The weather is nice and cool as we work our way through dense vegetation, sometimes crossing wide open pastures with grazing cattle. We do a tiresome climb that has us gasping for air, but mercy comes during the long and nice descent into the forest that we’re camping in for the night.
Our tent is now pitched in a small glade in the jungle. And this, we happily realize, is an excellent place for spotting exotic birds. Our favourite is a fairy tale looking beauty sporting a long blue tail with two white tufts at the end. For hours we sit like that, just watching until the pre monsoon rain starts to fall and the sounds of the jungle are all devoured by the heavy but pleasant splattering of raindrops on the tent.
We quickly settle into a routine of being served morning tea at six, breakfast at seven and setting out at eight, the mule men still busy breaking camp. The scenery is breathtaking and every day truly seems like a gift.
As for myself I can’t get that eagle out of my mind. It’s a magnificent animal, possessing almost supernatural eyesight, speed, agility and at the same time beauty and grace. A highly efficient hunter, able to do the most advanced manoeuvres, it still moves light and effortlessly. That, to me, is true power.
I honestly believe we attract things, people and situations according to what thoughts and energies we are sending out. Spurred on by my latest book (which says we can pretty much attract anything we want to – if only we believe it), I decide to try and attract a second encounter with an eagle. I keep thinking of the bird, in my mind asking it to come one more time, focusing again and again on that magic feeling of its presence.
The third day is steaming hot and we’re drenched in sweat from head to toe. But when the trek is over, and we go in search of some kind of washing opportunity we’re lucky. In the forest we find a spring with crystal clear, cool water. And so we bathe, surrounded by only tropical greenery, and an unseen bird singing a solitary flutelike melody.
Breathing for life
Day four is the toughest day with a major climb followed by a long gradual descent that seems to go on forever – all the way down to the very bottom of deep a ravine – and then up again… This second ascent is very steep and before long no one is talking.
Since I like to walk alone I push on and leave the others behind. To help me find the rhythm I prefer think of a positive sentence that I repeat over and over. It becomes kind of like a walking meditation.
This time the sentence in my head forms itself to: “I’m so grateful I’m always light, strong and safe”. But the terrain is so steep that long sentences suddenly aren’t very high on the list. The original sentence quickly reduces itself to the three main words: Light, strong, safe. Over and over, the words echo faintly in my dizzy brain.
Up and up I go. And as the tip of my boot mechanically digs in to the dirt to chisel out the next painfully slow step, it’s not possible for my mind to form even the three words anymore. The sweat is poring, the sun shines relentlessly and I can hear my heart thumping like it’s going to explode any second.
I empty my brain out and focus only on the breathing. Now nothing seems to exist in my entire being apart from my breath. The bridge between then and now, now and future. The origin of everything.
For hours it goes on like that and, I have to admit, once or twice the thought crosses my mind: ‘Why am I doing this?’ That thought however, quickly leaves, and every time the path levels out for a bit, generously letting me enjoy the stunning beauty of the valley and surrounding mountains, there’s not a shadow of a doubt as to why I’m doing this.
Sometimes I join up with the others and we take little breaks picking wild strawberries growing along the mountain sides, or enjoy being lucky enough to spot more exotic animals like green parrots, mountain peacocks, blue, yellow and red birds. And at the end of this hard day we reach the best camping spot so far.
Living the wilderness
We’re high up on a hillside, at 3.500 meters, pitching our tent in a completely wild place, surrounded only by rugged mountains and – right below our tent – a huge valley opening up. Finally! The feeling of wilderness embracing us. The breath of the mountain seeping into our hearts. There is nothing or no one here. Just us and the mountains. Space. I feel so blessed.
After washing up in a stream we sit quiet in our tent sipping a cup of chai masala, the Indian tea, savouring the impressive sight of 6000 meter peaks and musing over life’s mysteries. The sun is slowly setting, the warmth of the day bit by bit being replaced by chilly evening air.
“It would look good with a couple of mighty eagles soaring across the valley”, I finally break the silence, still letting the cup of masala warm my frozen fingers. “Definitely”, says Michael. “But they don’t seem to be living here. I haven’t seen a single one.
I have to admit it’s true. In fact I haven’t seen an eagle for days. I think of the beautiful white crested eagle I want to attract and feel a slight worry. For a moment I’m starting to lose faith that I will succeed. But then I quickly push those doubts out of my mind, focusing once more on the feeling of it being close. I have been mesmerized by this eagle since the first day, and as we go to sleep I make it my intention to focus even more intensely on it.
Tomorrow we’re going to start out early heading for the highlight of the trip: The Kuari Pass. I know I only have two days left to make my wish come true.
The Great Divide
At 5 am the next morning I zip up the tent and look out over a valley draped in heavy over cast. But no, I refuse to let my spirits down. Today is D-day. We’re going to be up on the pass and for what you are going to see on the other side you need clear skies.
Both Michael and I have been looking forward to this day for weeks now. We have both simply decided it will be a clear day. There is just no other way. An hour before we set out it starts to clear – phew!
By the time we hit the path for this last steep ascent the sky’s all clear. We feel an immense joy in our hearts and Bharat is looking very relieved.
Filled with excitement I immediately fall into that rhythm of paced and heavy breathing, slowly but surely working my way up the hefty switchbacks. Knowing it’s not far motivates me to keep a good pace and some 38 minutes later, breathing (and sounding), like a steam train, I take the final step onto the pass. I cannot help myself but to gasp for joy.
A simply amazing panorama spreads out before my eyes! I have heard so much of this view, by many considered to be among the finest in the world. I am on the actual edge of the great divide between the Lesser and the Greater Himalaya. A world of snow capped peaks stands before me, letting me taste some of the wonders of this universe.
This view is simply breathtaking, and as I realize that I’m all alone with these mighty moments I am suddenly overwhelmed. I collapse to my knees, feeling an exhilarating joy that bring tears to my eyes.
Magic moments
I take my pack off and sit down on the smooth, green grass, right on the saddle of the pass, enjoying my state of bliss and wait for Michael. These are holy moments and I’m savouring every one of them like a last meal.
As I sit there, in the bare silence of the world, something causes me to turn my head and look back. In the corner of my eye I catch a movement and a second later I see it – the white crested eagle! My heart stops. I freeze my gaze in disbelief, getting goose bumps all over. A large, beautiful white crested eagle is flying right towards me…
In those crystallized moments it suddenly strikes me that I’ve never seen an eagle at shoulder height before. I am now close to 4000 meters, level with the eagle instead of the usual position, several hundred meters below it.
It feels as if he is looking right at me and it’s the weirdest feeling, sort of like a space ship approaching – huge…! He licks the mountain side with his left wing, closing in with one long, smooth gliding movement. As he turns around the protruding cliff he tilts the body slightly, letting me clearly see a white belly, patterns of brown and white colours, and each separate feather at the tip of the wings.
He whizzes by me, again, so close that I can hear the faint sound of him gliding through the still air. The moment he passes, just a few meters away, at the exact height of my left shoulder, I feel as if I’m being lifted to another dimension.
I can feel his presence, tasting his power – and for a millisecond I’m flying with him, soaring out over the open valley. I watch him make a big circle, come back and finally settle down on a rock a bit away. He stays there for the longest time, sitting upright like a statue, as if to reassure me it wasn't just something I dreamt. I actually received a sign from the heavens. For a second time this morning I have tears rolling down my cheeks.
Vast fields of flowers
After a few minutes Michael comes up, and 15 minutes later Bharat. He is thrilled over the clear weather and good views. I look him in the eyes and say: ”I already cried twice”. He smiles and parries lightly: “God has been good to us”.
I think we take about a million pictures before we move on, following the nice smooth grass ridge, seeing even more 6000 and 7000 meter peaks. We climb up a rock and take a break, eating our packed lunch and breathing it all in…
Later we walk through flower filled meadows known only to God and goat herders. The streams are crystal clear and the flowers wonderful! In this wide open space we see any colour from white to bright yellow, to pink, to blue, violet and the deepest of dark red – and all reflecting against a backdrop of snow covered Himalayan peaks.
I suddenly hear myself repeating the word ‘thank you’ as I’m walking along. ‘Thank you’, ‘thank you’, the word’s moving like a mantra in my head. This is how blessed I feel by having had the chance to peak into the mountain soul of the world. Felt the rays of the sun in my face while being caressed by a magic eagle. The scenario is so firmly etched into my mind it feels as if I still have that proud giant by my left shoulder. Never ever have I been so close to a big bird of prey before.
Mystic ravines
Not really wanting to leave this forest of white tops we reluctantly continue into more rocky terrain. We climb up a steep ridge and once again see dense forests closing in below us. The sky’s clouding up, and from the deep ravines below thin veils of mist are slowly winding their way up. As if hidden giants were down there, secretly boiling cauldrons of magic potions.
That evening Bharat finds us the most magnificent camping spot so far. Our tent is pitched on a small platform looking straight at several 6000 and 7000 meter peaks, as well as Nanda Devi – India’s highest mountain at 7800 meters.
This evening’s sipping of chai masala comes with a thought; I simply cannot believe we are camping in northern India – looking straight at some of the highest mountains in the world – from inside our tent!
The last day is simply beautiful and we truly don’t want it to end. When we reach Auli, our final destination, we turn around to say a last good bye. In the distance we see a big eagle soaring over the top of Nanda Devi.