Rupa Gandhi, an adventurer on a high takes a stylish stockbroker friend on a caravanning trip to Lahaul and Spiti

"Why didn't you ask me?" was the constant refrain I heard upon my return from the awe-inspiring trip to the high mountain passes of Himachal. I had booked my trip to Lahaul and Spiti and was then looking for people to join me, for good company and to share expenses. After having tried my luck with the closest of friends I knew, who couldn't make it for varied reasons, such as demanding jobs, too much travel on the road - cant take it, too expensive, and no access to civilization---how can one live without mobile coverage? I finally asked one of my most non-adventurous friends, whose idea of holidays was a cushy stay in a good hotel and lots of shopping.

Having trekked over most of the Garhwal Himalayas in my younger days and now working with a group of hotels in Uttarakhand, I have always been a "mountain" person and an adventurer at heart. I often think of people rushing off to Bangkok and Europe on holidays as a crazy waste, just as much as they think I am crazy to take off on trips that literally leave you gasping for air. This friend, Arti jumped at the idea as it sounded poles apart from what she had been doing all these years, and what better way to unwind than switch off from civilization and drink lots of wine in the company of someone who appciates the merits of alcohol the most!

This is the story of a trip that two women took, where most men would not dare. Arti, a stock broker from Delhi, a Delhiite to the core, never having roughed it out and never ventured beyond Vaishno Devi, that too on a mule. Rupa, yours truly, a qualified Chemical engineer, now in the adventure tourism and hotel industry purely for the love of the mountains, an adventurer to the core, having trekked the high

Himalayas since 1979 and praying to God to keep my knee joints in condition good enough to continue such trips as long as the Himalayas exist

Enter Daulat Deshmukh of Overlanders Speciality Vehicles, with who I had already booked the Freedom Campervan that was going to be our vehicle and home for the trip to Lahaul and Spiti. Daulat was extremely apphensive of two city women travelling over uncharted and untested territories and he decided to follow us at a safe distance in a local vehicle with his engineer Krishna for any troubleshooting. The trip was a breeze as far as the campervan was concerned and the only troubleshooting required was brainstorming on how to finish all the wine and a thorough cleaning of the refrigerator that had scrambled egg in all its crevices after some eggs got knocked around on a rough ride to Tabo. More of that and the wine later

Daulat had thoughtfully sent across a CD and brochures of the vehicle so I had done my homework thoroughly before even setting sights on it. The first demo he gave us in Manali, our start point, was to orient us with various features, such as the solar panels for power, raising the roof of the van to get maximum standing height, usage of the kitchen and other equipment, the awning tent and what goes where. Packing up correctly is even more important than setting camp since even a tent peg or a bolt packed in an incorrect place will either have you spending pcious hours to locate it or the container will not shut. When the campervan is in motion, one has to ensure that there is no loose stuff or luggage getting knocked about inside. Having seen such vehicles abroad and in pictures, we were thrilled at the prospect of actually travelling and living in one and as expected, the vehicle became the highlight of the trip, turning heads wherever we went. You can include the tech specs and facilities listed as a box item. We also loved the idea of a chemical toilet in a separate tent with a pssurized hand shower. This was a convenience that we ladies really appciated in barren desolate landscape with no rocks or trees for cover, as one peacefully went about the "job".

Our departure from Manali was a bit delayed partly due to rains and the first day's journey, expected to be a seven hour drive over Rohtang pass and Kunzum La to Takcha, extended to a good 12 hours. Thanks to heavy rainfall and landslides between Manali and Rohtang La, a snaking row of vehicles greeted us just before we reached Marhi. The rain was not helping any of the trucks that were stuck in knee deep

slush. After a long wait of over two hours, and many curious tourists photographing the campervan, the truck that was blocking the road managed to move a few inches and make way for other vehicles. The campervan just breezed past with a roar of power in its 4-wheel majesty. Visibility was close to nil at Rohtang and the chilly winds howling in our ears, yet that didn't stop us from getting out to take photographs. The other side of Rohtang was amazingly green, serene and sunny! One could see the road all the way down to Chhatru. A tea break at Chhatru while waiting for Daulat's vehicle and off we went over bumpy and rocky terrain to Kunzum La. Three hours of bone wrenching drive, most of which was on dry scree and stones, brought us to Batal, where a road bifurcates to Chandertal. Wistfully wishing I had enough time for Chandertal, we moved on to the climb to Kunzum La. The campervan had behaved

extremely well till now over the roughest of terrain and I was literally in awe of its Pirelli tyres. About a kilometer short of Kunzum La, our driver had to stop the van for a while to let it cool down. We took the opportunity to jump out to take pictures of the distant flags fluttering on Kunzum La and carried on to the pass to stop there and marvel at the beauty at almost 16000 ft for a while. The descent to Takcha was smooth and fast. Takcha is an uninhabited camping ground just below Kunzum Pass in the Spiti valley. It would have been a wonderful campsite with the Spiti River flowing next to it, but for the numerous sheep and goat droppings that dotted the entire flat land. We decided to move on to find a cleaner campsite and passed the village of Lossar. Finding no good place to set up camp, we back-tracked to Lossar and camped on a high ground next to the main road, expecting things to quieten down after sunset, but to our dismay, the traffic from trucks and their honking continued till late into the night. A spicy khichdi for dinner cooked by our driver-cum-guide, Panditji provided the best comfort food to brave the icy winds blowing down Kunzum La, not to speak of the excellent local wine we had picked up from Manali. The day dawned bright and clear and to my amazement, some workers were patching up sections of the road. We realized that the road was in good shape up to Kaza. Enroute to Kaza lies the picture perfect monastery of Ki. While Arti pferred the comfort of the campervan, I climbed the steep steps to Ki where I was greeted by a friendly monk who offered tea and showed me around the pcincts. We drove into the bustling town of Kaza at lunchtime with the tummy growling for some hot thukpa, a local delicacy. Kaza is busy, well-stocked and a good change from some of the desolate expanses of the Spiti valley. The town has a sizeable population, the world's highest petrol retail outlet, health centre, cyber cafes, Italian and Israeli food, German bakeries, mobile repair shops and plenty of establishments serving the local thukpa (soup and noodles). Well satiated with a couple of bowls of thukpa, we picked up breads, eggs and a few groceries to see us through the next three days in the wilderness and drove on to Shego. Shego is located on a small stretch of flat land and I discovered a camping ground with an amazing backdrop of dry cliffs, looking like a thousand soldiers. Since a water source was at a distance, the campervan was sent to the river bed to tank up for washing and the kitchen use. A Tullu pump fills up the water tank at the bottom of the vehicle in no time. A 4 stage water filter supplies water for the kitchen use and is fine for drinking though we carried enough bottles of mineral water. Each feature of the campervan is thoughtfully made and it was obvious that the vehicle facilities were tried and tested many times before, since everything functioned smoothly. The toilet tent also took no more than 15 minutes to set up and be operational. The chemical used here eliminates odors and dissolves all solids which at the end of the camp stay can be vacated in a pit without leaving a mess. Since we reached Shego well in time by late afternoon, we managed to get firewood for a real campfire. Arti's iPod got connected to the campervan music system and though there was a DVD player in the van, we revelled on camp beds under a zillion stars with wine served in small chai glasses.

We drove to Dhankar and Tabo the next morning after a hearty breakfast of leftover rice, toast and butter and aloo bhujia washed down with cold milk diluted out of condensed milk cans. Dhankar is situated at an elevation of 12,774 feet in the Spiti Valley between the towns of Kaza and Tabo. The complex is built on a 1000-foot (300-metre) high spur overlooking the confluence of the Spiti and Pin Rivers – one of the world's most spectacular settings for a gompa. Dhang or dang means cliff, and kar or khar means fort. Hence Dhangkar means fort on a cliff. Dhankar is in imminent danger of collapse and a concerted campaign is on to save the monastery, with little hope of success since most of the monks and material have already been shifted to the new monastery, a few paces away.

Sheer cliffs on one side and the Spiti River flowing on the other side dominated most of the route to Tabo and we rolled into Tabo around lunchtime. The biggest attraction of this village, for that matter of the whole valley, is the Tabo monastery, the world's oldest monastery--called Chogs Khor ('doctrinal circle' or 'doctrinal enclave') is a complex that holds nine temples, 23 chortens, a monks' chamber and an extension that houses the nuns chamber. On the sheer cliff-face above the enclave are a series of a cave which were used as dwellings by the monks and includes an 'assembly hall'. Tummy growling again after marveling at the artistry in the temples, we discovered the pony-tailed Tenzing's Café, Kunzum Top where I had a Spitian thaali for lunch. The locally grown potatoes and peas taste heavenly and I even loved the Spitian tea served with tsampa. While Tenzing breezed between tables, serving a motley group of foreign tourists, we got talking to an elderly gentleman from Chicago who was in Tabo to volunteer at the local school for 3 months. It was warm in Tabo and when I asked for a chilled bottle of Sprite from the fridge in the van, we discovered that some eggs bought at Tabo had got knocked about in the fridge and managed to reach all the crevices in the fridge. The mess had to be cleaned but only at our next halt. A long drive awaited us as we longingly looked at the turquoise and silver on sale here and departed for Pin valley, our destination for the night.

The route to Pin Valley is dusty and windy and reminds one of the dryness of Rajasthan, though the Pin Valley is greener than most parts of Spiti. The river is at its widest here and one could see small settlements scattered across the entire drive in Pin valley. Numerous delays on the road due to bulldozers working away at smoothening the rocky roads and a really bumpy ride brought us to Mikkim, which was to be our scheduled halt. Finding no flat land suitable for the vehicle at Mikkim, we drove on further across the bridge to Sagnam where we camped near a helipad in the shadow of a high ground that shielded us from strong winds. This time round, the vehicle did not have to go to the riverbed, as we found a small waterfall next to the road which filled the tank in half and hour without a pump. The zillion stars shone very close to us in the clear sky and the wind howled through the evening, but this did not deter us from having a blazing campfire and again wine in small tea glasses. Morning was bright and sunny as Daulat and Krishna set about dismantling and cleaning the fridge for most of the morning. I realized that we still had two bottles of wine left and only one night to go before we reached Manali.

A delayed start from Sagnam made us give up the idea of stopping at a couple of other monasteries enroute. We retraced the route via Kaza, where we stopped for fuel for ourselves--lunch and fuel for the vehicle. The campervan has an extra fuel container and a little shelf at the back where it remains strapped since petrol pumps are miles away on this route. The extra wheel is also very funkily placed and it's a breeze to change the tyres too, though it wasn't necessary all through this trip. We were wary about camping at the Lossar site because of the truck noise through the night; Takcha was also ruled out because of chilly winds blowing down Kunzum La. So we drove into the river bed where we discovered a few willows that would shield us from the road. The trees formed a circle and there was enough space

for the vehicle to be driven in the centre of the clearing and that is how we discovered the best campsite of the trip. Shielded from the road by trees, the river bed, albeit semi-dry in front and complete tranquility! Water again was a problem and had to be sourced by driving up to the ton of Lossar, about 3 km away. The circle of trees and the stones in the river bed provided ideal catalysts to a good campfire and after a hearty dinner of pasta, we retired to awake the next morning with an amazing sight of fresh snow on all the mountains around us! Fresh snowflakes also greeted us at Kunzum La where I got off the vehicle to experience the first snowfall of the season. While we were in the Spiti Valley, Lahaul had experienced rainfall and on the return journey the mountains were greener than ever. Though marveling in Nature's bounty, I was apphensive about the campervan negotiating the numerous waterfalls that flowed across the boulder strewn route up to Chhatru. The campervan and its skilled driver took them all in stride and we reached the settlement of Chhatru for the usual lunch break only to discover (much to our relief) that the last bottle of wine broke! Visibility was again close to nil with dense fog and the rain beating down on Rohtang but luckily no landslides or traffic jams to delay us further and we got to Manali well before sunset. My friend Arti was more than relieved to be in the midst of civilization, and more so at the prospect of a hot bath and a stylish cocktail at Johnson's Bar in Manali. For a person never having roughed it out earlier, she survived the high altitudes, low oxygen levels, rough drives and khichdi for dinner and that was reason enough to celebrate over a Tequila sunrise.