An uphill trek- Srikhola to Rammam

After taking a long gap, I’m finally back to the roads leading to Gorkhey. The last night’s sleep was refreshing , though horrible. I can never forget in my entire life, how I spent a horrible night in Srikhola. Many people believe in the stories they heard about Srikhola trekkers hut, many did not. Whatever is true or false lets not dig into it, but something spooky feeling you might feel, that is for sure. What horror story I heard from the local people about Srikhola, you might like to take a look upon it. However from the morning I was feeling much refreshed and energized. I asked my guide what time to leave. It was just after I had my tea and egg breakfast, he signaled me to pack up and leave. So, I started a climbing up journey towards Rammam.

Usually people dont take this route, since its an opposite way. What they do, they takes a route from Sandakphu to Falut via Molly. Then they climb down to Gorkhey. Gradually they reach to Srikhola via Rammam. But since my team’s departure I was left alone. I better preferred to take an opposite route of elevation so that to meet them at a point, may be at Gorkhey.

Since the ist half an hour the elevation. It was paining a lot, since I climbed down from Sandakphu last day. My thighs were swollen red. I was taking in-numerous halts and breathing heavily. Though the serene beauty seen from couples feet of height was lucrative. Probably it was one of the driving forces that was pushing me continuously to any extent. I was acting like those impatient immature students, who use to ask their teacher about the class closure time. My guide was constantly being interrogated in the same fashion. Even he also knew that the road might end till evening. It was just 12o clock. So probably he was laughing at my stupidity at that time. But what else could I do then?

It was just middle of 2015 and I along with my friends decided to join Sandakphu trek. But we could not overlook fate. Situation turned up like this. I had to depart from main team and choose an opposite trek route to join my friends in coming days.

My guide was rather efficient. He was taking multiple shortcuts through villages, even in normal sense you would not imagine such type of a shortcut can exists through people’s houses. It was helping to reduce time indeed. But these roads were rather stiff to spread my legs constantly. Meanwhile, several streams we crossed. I asked my guide whether I can drink this stream water or not – mostly because of curiosity. I had a long cherished dream to have water from such natural resources. In adventure documentaries these things are being portrayed in this way so it was quite natural that I was also keen to have that type of experience. My guide, as I told, he filled up his bottle with cold stream water. He understood that as long as he’d not perform this, probably I’d not be convinced. Sipping the cold, enriched mountain water, my tired body discovered a new vigor.

Each new turn surrounding the mountains unveiled a new perspective of natural beauty. Though the scorching heat was taking away energy, when we were exposed to the valley directly towards the Sun. My fatigued legs were yet never slow. While in the uphill, I was taking halts at very short intervals. My huff and puff s could be felt even from distances. After almost two hours of up and down walking, I got to hear some human voice. Needless to say, I was more than happy, because since I left the camp I had not noticed any living person.

As I moved closer, I found it was a small village with 5 to 8 wooden houses. more surprisingly there were no adults, only three / four children were playing on the muddy dusty yard. One boy child with no cloths, having some grime on his body was surprised at my sudden arrival, appearance. Three other girl children, most probably the boy’s elder sisters were also playing. They welcomed us with a brief smile. We had some cold water. My guide informed me this village is Deragaon.

Deragaon seemed to be a small, decent village with shadow and peace. I hoped to halt a little more time. But my guide was continuously reminding me of the long remaining part of the trail. Even the trail from Sandakphu to Srikhola seemed long to me, but I enjoyed it thoroughly, because it was mostly downwards. But this trail was upwards and stiff. So I was somehow cautious and frightened not to be fooled in the darkness. After Deragaon, the trail was somehow smoother and I sighed. But see me guide. He asked me to avoid normal trail since they were lengthy. We took alternative routes through bushes, medium herbs, keeping aside couple of streams and of course uphill curves.

As the Sun rose up above head, I felt like extremely full of sweat. So removed some of the cloths, bagged inside my rucksack. Only I allowed one sweatshirt to hug me behind my neck, because it might be useful again as we were moving towards the opposite direction of the slope. To reduce pain and pace, I started meaningful communication with my guide. By asking about his family, work, how he grew up and fitted for this profession – I understood him as a man of hard work, dedication, honesty. Pale skin, stout and strong, Mid aged but looked like still in his youth, this man was gifted this profession from his father. In his childhood, he used to come with father, while his father would perform his duties with accompanying travelers, this little boy used to observe his father’s body language, talks, actions.

Deragaon we crossed almost hours ago and now the natural trails became little bit wider and well made. Needless to mention, we were again close to some natural habitats. But this time it was with some astounding beauty. The wide green color valley with a shield wall of mountain on the right side and the left side with deep forest. On the edge of valley, picturesque wooden cottages were built. It was a small village again, like Deragaon, but it was like a perfect photo frame. All cottages were colorful on their roof and they own gardens with flowers. Some people were found to erect a new hut. I got to know this village as Kollen. I took out DSLR and started framing my desired shots.

It was three days almost, I got rid of my cell phone. Because first of all, its of no use; secondly, I was conserving power for an unseen future whether I’d be able to meet or talk with my team in this upland or not. Kollen was seemingly comfortable for me. Local people greeted us, some of them talked to my guide in Nepali language, which I don’t know at all. But we agreed upon not to wait here, as miles more to go. We left around 8:40 AM from Srikhola, now its almost 12:30 PM . I was hungry literally, terrible feeble but could not ask for slowing down. But this time I was restless.

“where will be our next stop?” I asked by curiosity.

“Are you hungry? then we can eat here. but if you can walk few more, Rammam will be best for lunch.”

Now, Rammam appeared to be our next stoppage. But I did not know ‘how much miles’ I had to trek in the name of ‘few’. Because every time I asked about remaining destination or stoppage, these people were like ‘almost arrived. few more’. 😀

As we left Kollen, the incoming roads were more stiff and inclined. I could readily watch them or measure their inclination angle with my vision. The truth about these inclined trail was it use to impact your frontal part of feet. As you have to apply more force on feet, your feet become swelled and fatigued. I had never a trekking experience earlier, since Sandakphu trek was my first trek in my life. Also I faced all of these trauma because of my illness, separation from my team and now isolation, walking alone towards Rammam. I began to plan within myself, what would I do after getting some meal and rest.

After some stiff climbs, the trail took a straight cut through the forest, where absence of the Sun made me to reuse my sweatshirt from my back. I halted for some minutes on the ground, sipped water from my bottle and was trying to feel the silence. Only sounds of cricket, some unknown insects and birds could be audible. Overall it was a thrilling experience. I was just thinking about my friends, if they were here, possibly they would be eager to wait for some more time to rejuvenate this moment. But thinking about the possible delay

The more we moved towards Rammam, I was able to sense human presence. A local man was spotted, who was carrying woods on his back from forest. Another lad was found with his domestic horse. They use horses for pulling carts, carrying essentials from plain land, or for simply traveling one place to another. Because this Singalila National Forest has a wonderful grassland, ideal for grazing. They simply use it for the domestic animals. It was not too far as I walked and a school ground was spotted.

The ground was well protected with walls, made by bamboo and wooden logs. It reminded me of my school’s football ground. On the other hand of the ground a beautiful cottage house was spotted. My guide was seen approaching towards that cottage. Needless to say, I found one resting stop to have some breathe. My guide entered directly into their kitchen, asked something in their language and came back sooner with a smile.

“Put your luggage here. We’ll have our lunch here.” So my inner self came to know that this beautiful place belongs to Rammam.

Also read, how I acquainted with a cute innocent baby in Rammam and her cute expression on chocolates.