Just when you thought the narrow, stony track couldn’t get any worse, it did. Just when you wondered if the jeep could take such a steep and blinding curve, it did. And that’s when you realised what was meant by the term ‘River Safari’
We were following the river as it made its way between the ridges, along an uninhabited track that took us higher and closer to the mountains. Being summer, there wasn’t much water, but the sight of the river bed itself; wide and strewn with boulders was an indication of how it would look when in full spate. High up as we were, the muted roar of the water could still be heard, as it flowed along its rocky path.
As we proceeded on our way, we came upon a section of the track that was flattened and had water flowing across it. It was an underground mountain stream that had been channeled into a pipe from which it fell in a steady trickle for thirsty, dusty travelers to refresh themselves.
The track finally curved and descended to a place where the mountains seemed to close in a little and from where we could approach the river as it flowed more quietly, forming tiny ponds and baby waterfalls. This was where the trail ended.
This was also the spot where we were finally able to kick off our shoes and dip our feet into the icy cold water! We scrambled and stumbled among the rocks, trying to find the perfect ‘spot’ to sit in! Within minutes, our feet had turned numb with the cold. But that didn’t deter us from splashing around in the melted snow of the mountain stream.
We proceeded ahead on foot, closer into the mountains. It was darker here, chilly and less welcoming. In front of us we could now see the snow- capped peaks where clouds were swirling and descending. The mountains loomed on either side and the river bed spanned the distance in- between. There were two hanging bridges at different points and we wondered who would ever use them to go to the other side and why! That was when we spotted a tiny temple, perched precariously on the slope; a testimony to the stubborn, indomitable nature of man. And crossing that stony river bed with icy water flowing in its midst, were two figures; a mother and her daughter. They picked their way over the stones with grace and a sure-footedness that was probably in their DNA. No hanging bridges for them!
The wind grew stronger and colder and we shrank back against the rocky slopes of the mountains that seemed to appear more menacing. We headed quickly back to the sunnier path where the jeep was parked, leaving the growling mountains behind.
For experienced trekkers and climbers, this experience would probably count among their baby steps; but for citified first-timers like us it was a memorable adventure.
We had gulped in lungfuls of pure, fresh mountain air, dabbled our feet in the crystal clear mountain streams and had viewed up close the awesome majesty of the mountains in their moods.
Now, whenever the soaring 40 degrees plus temperatures get to me, I’ll close my eyes and transport myself back to the river trail in the mountains!
butterfliesonmymindblog 