On the Road in the Himalayas to Uttarkashi
Trip Start
Oct 09, 2007
1
42
45
Trip End
Mar 10, 2008
Uttarkashi,
Uttarakhand,
India
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Rishikesh has a way of hanging on to those who come here (I was supposed to leave on the 25th). But this morning at 7:30, I was finally up and loaded, with my ridiculous amount of luggage, in the auto rickshaw, headed for the bus terminal and a 7 hour ride to Uttarkashi. [Rickshaws in Rishikesh are often called "toot toots" --sounds like foot-- because of the very loud, distinctive, sputtering noise their engines make.]
The bus climbed and climbed and climbed initially, at a wonderfully slow pace that allowed for relaxed enjoyment of the scenery. And, as has been the case since finishing the Vipassana retreat, I could just relax and be in the full, natural wonder of it all without my mind interfering and holding me three veils back from being present to the moment.
It was 155 kilometers of winding, winding, winding, up and down (mostly up), through the constant bends and hair-pin turns between almost completely terraced, tightly packed, massive mountains and the dammed Ganges. These mountains are constantly dotted with colorful villages and hamlets, and the roads and footpaths lacing one to another. I couldn't help but marvel at all the human labor that had sculpted these mountains and maintained these terraces over thousands of years.
The irregular patterns of the terracing fascinate me to no end. Many are brilliant hues of emerald green, while others were turning various shades of yellow with ripening wheat. Still others were fallow, gray-white and rocky. At the bottom of the mountains were rocky streams, all of which I assume, ultimately feed into the Ganges.
The mountain air was cool, its purity exuberant and invigorating. I couldn't bear to close the window, even at times the air got cold. So I simply wrapped my head and shoulders in my wool shawl and fancied myself looking like a woman from the Middle East, while holding my hands out the window taking as many photos as I dared to in order to save disk space for the wonders surely yet to come.
About 50 kilometers into the trip, silent, stately pines became the dominant tree species. They caught the morning sun, softly spinning suffused white light along the thin, fanning threads of their long, draping needles ... to a mesmerizing, magical effect.
There were so many places I wanted to stop, I found myself fantasizing about learning to drive a motorcycle this coming summer, so that next year I can rent a bike and make this trip on my own, taking all the time I want, wherever I want, soaking it all in and taking many more photos. It's a little far out for this 62 year old Grandma, but not totally out of character either. There are some parts of India that just cry to be seen on a motorbike. So I am not willing to be closed to that as a possibility. (I think the bike will have to be fire engine red.)
About 20 km from Uttarkashi, our bus driver suddenly developed an irrepressible sense of urgency to get there and be done with us. Our peaceful meandering through the mountains abruptly ended, as we literally screamed through nearby towns and mountains, horn blaring at 90 decibles without interruption, careening over rubbled roads, through tight turns. On a road that is about 1-1/2 lanes wide, it was quite hairy meeting oncoming traffic. When I wasn't gasping, I was laughing out loud. I am sure my fellow passengers thought I was crazy. More than once, I had to remind myself that I was on this trip at Baba's instruction, so there was no way I was going to die in a bus crash, however reckless this driver was determined to be.
All in all, it was a blissful trip...one I won't soon forget and which I will always treasure. The deep peace of the mountains, the purity of the air, felt like home.
These photos in no way do justice to the magnificent scenery. I forgot to set the camera to "scene" so the focus didn't catch the detail of the sculpted mountain terraces. Almost all of which were completely terraced.
