“Greene Hiking in Himachal Pradesh” By John Davies

My old friend David and I have known each other since 1975, and met on a kibbutz by the Sea of Galilee when we worked as volunteers. Both now married and somewhat decrepit with grown-up kids, we have often escaped domestic life over the years to roam the mountains and valleys of Himachal Pradesh together, an area of India we both know and love.

Our latest sojourn was in April this year. We rendezvoused at Delhi domestic airport (he now lives in Australia, and I in Singapore) where a turboprop flight took us to Bhuntar. We then took a taxi to Tosh at the upper end of Parvati valley, driving through Kasol and Manikaram as we ascended to 10,000 feet. Our guesthouse boasted an uninterrupted view of the snow-capped ranges across the valley, almost unreal in their transcendental beauty.

We used this as a base for a week to acclimatise, hiking the valley past pristine waterfalls in the cedar forests, and further up into the snow line where only Gurjar shepherds and the occasional lone bear or leopard dared venture. The town of Tosh itself has sprung up over old terraced fields where vegetables and fruits once thrived. The local population has largely succumbed to tourism during the past thirty years, with Tosh becoming a refuge for young Israelis escaping the stresses of home, the bass notes of trance music reverberating across the valleys deep into the night.

We took several hikes to the snow line but our advancing age soon took its toll. Gone were the days of scrambling over 16,000 ft passes in blizzards, and camping on cold hard rock. We congratulated ourselves on making the decision to take day hikes from a central base, to which you could return in the evening to a hot bath and a rejuvenating meal of dal, chapatti, rice and sabzi, the hiker’s standard fare. By 9 pm the cold set in and we would retreat to the cocoons of our cosy sleeping bags.

We met several interesting foreigners living in those foothills, escapees from the western world. But we decided that the Parvati valley no longer held the same mystique as it had a generation before, so we moved on to Chamba by bus, and after a comfortable night in the only good hotel in town, took a jeep to Tissa at the head of the valley. We found a friendly guest house with an excellent cook, and made our base there for ten days, hiking high up the valley slopes on both sides.

The lower slopes are intricately terraced, and farmers grew fruit and vegetables in the fecund black earth. The area is known for its apple orchards where several international strains are cultivated. We met an amiable horticulturalist who outlined the production process in detail, and who then invited us home for lunch.

This generosity is typical of the people in this area. A group of young men whom we first took for scallywags followed us for a while then shyly introduced themselves. They were all undergraduates at an agricultural university, home for a long weekend, and spoke fluent English. (David speaks appalling Hindi, and I, none at all). What was so refreshing about them was their obvious love of the countryside and rural tradition in that part of HP. They vowed to return to cultivate the land after graduation and to continue and improve the sustainable farming methods used by their forefathers. However, one of them had a different ambition; to join the police force. Apparently, this part of HP has a very low crime rate and it would be an easy job!

Tissa is well away from the tourist routes. We encountered no foreigners during the entire time we were there and the locals were open and generous. Indian tourists from the plains generally only venture as far as the large town of Chamba to witness the local festivals. Tissa area, a secret paradise, is a step too far for most. The access road is a nightmare, with dangerous landslides, strewn with crushed cars and trucks.

Logging in the Tissa area appears to be under control, and we hiked high through dense cedar and pine forests and higher into the snow. Though exhausting at times, the effort was always amply rewarded when we would find a place to sit in cool shade and look across the valleys toward the majestic mountains beyond, all the way to Kashmir, and to marvel at God’s creation.