In the land of myths and legends

Every patch of the Himalayas is steeped in legends, folk tales and history harking back to a more magical time. The majesty of the Himalayas evoke a strange mix of contrary emotions. There is a sense of humility when faced with the immensity of the snow-capped mountains. But there is also the feeling of one’s spirit expanding and soaring high as the pristine white peaks draw one to the deep blue space against which they are framed.

Dodital and Dwara are hallowed spaces where the story of Lord Ganesha unfolded perhaps in a poet’s dream. Its recounting remains as dramatic as among generations past. My recent trek with a couple of friends to these places was pilgrimage as much as adventure. Dodital, at just over 10,000 ft, is a popular destination. It is a relatively easy walk through some lovely forests of oak, pine, cedar and occasional maple. The Dodital lake is a modest water body fed by several mountain streams. On its banks is an old temple dedicated to Lord Ganesha. There are thick forests in the surrounding hills but on one side there are deep scars left by a major flash flood and avalanche from 2012. In the first week of October, the weather was still mild and there were few tourists. The peace we enjoyed during our stay at Dodital was a rare interlude before the crowds come streaming back.

Our starting point was the village of Aghora, about 22 km from Uttarkashi in Uttarakhand. It is located in the valley of the Assi Ganga, which joins the Bhagirathi at Uttarkashi. The trail to Dodital follows the Assi Ganga upstream, and we had lovely views of the white and raging river below as we trudged higher. Our guide and the trekking crew joined us at the camping site at Aghora. It rained heavily at night but the morning brought clear weather. Our first day’s trek was a fairly long one, about 12 km, but the ascent was mostly gradual. It was pleasant walking on a trail shaded by a dense canopy of trees and interrupted by an occasional waterfall. We reached our camp at the village of Manjhi somewhat late in the afternoon. Manjhi is used by shepherds who take their flock to the alpine meadows in the higher reaches during summer and return to the plains as winter begins to set in. There were only empty sheds and mud-baked cottages when we arrived since the annual migration to warmer climes had not yet started. It is from Manjhi that the highest snow-covered peaks first become visible as just a sliver of white in the distant sky.

Crossing a mountain stream

True to form, the clouds started gathering in the afternoon and we had heavy rains again during the night. There was bright sun the next day and the forests around us had a washed and sparkling look. While the trail was muddy and slippery at places, it was a fairly short trek to Dodital about 6 km away. We had to cross several mountain streams, jumping from one slippery rock to another, and it was inevitable that I would lose my balance and end up with a soggy boot. The sight of Dodital was enchanting, though I had expected it to be larger. We spent time at the quaint little Ganesha temple, while our tents were being put up on the banks of the Assi river emerging from the lake. The priest at the temple welcomed us and invited us to an aarti in the evening. After lunch we did a parikrama of the lake and had a chance to see more closely the vast amount of rocky debris left behind by the 2012 avalanche. It had apparently shrunk the lake by a third.

The Ganesha temple at Dodital

It became cloudy again in the late afternoon with a light but persistent drizzle. This kind of weather was unusual for October but then that is the story all over the world, thanks to climate change. We braved the rain to witness the evening aarti at the temple. Later, the priest narrated to us the story of Dodital as the birthplace of Lord Ganesha. The goddess Parvati had created him from the turmeric paste smeared on her body and instructed him to stand guard while she took a bath in Dodital. The place where he installed himself is Dwara, which means “door”, and is the high northern ridge facing the Bandarpoonch mountain. This is where Lord Shiva decapitated him when he refused to allow him through the Dwara. We know the story of how an elephant’s head was grafted onto the decapitated body later on to assuage Parvati.

Bandarpoonch from Dwara Pass

The next morning we had clear skies with not a cloud in sight. We left early at 6:30 am for our more arduous trek to Dwara, which is about 6 km from Dodital. The first stage is over the avalanche itself. This was both unpleasant and risky because one had to go over sharp rocks and slippery terrain. There were several swift mountain streams and our porters sometimes had to place rocks mid-stream to form a bridge for us to cross. The final stage was a very steep ascent of about a thousand feet to Dwara Pass. Traversing the Pass brings you to a ridge from which there are dramatic and uninterrupted views of the Bandarpoonch, which dominates the Himalayan range at this point. The sky was a turquoise blue against which the white mountain, said to be a crouching celestial monkey, looked ethereal. It was a fitting reward for the physically demanding trudge over the Dwara.

Dodital Lake

We had an uneventful return to Aghora the next day where we rested our tired limbs before returning to the noise and din of civilisation again.

Shyam Saran is a former Foreign Secretary and an avid trekker