Previously

Prologue: https://varunasok.com/2024/05/18/unraveling-uttarakhand-prologue/

Uttarakhand Diaries: Part 1: https://varunasok.com/2024/10/13/embarking-on-our-uttarakhand-adventure-from-dehradun-to-mussoories-heights/

Uttarakhand Diaries: Part 2: https://varunasok.com/2024/10/25/embarking-on-our-uttarakhand-adventure-from-serenity-to-chaos-a-journey-through-haridwar-and-rishikesh

Uttarakhand Diaries: Part 3: https://varunasok.com/2024/12/27/embarking-on-our-uttarakhand-adventure-from-rivers-to-peaks-a-journey-through-changing-landscapes/

April 9th, 2024

Our night at GMVNL was anything but peaceful. While we were grateful for a place to stay in Auli’s frigid weather, the relentless barking of dogs and biting cold made it hard to get proper rest. Stepping outside in the morning was a shock—the freezing temperatures pierced through every layer. Still, the promise of new adventures spurred us on.

Breakfast at the GMVNL restaurant was simple yet satisfying. Though advertised as a buffet, it was more of a made-to-order setup. Parathas and steaming cups of coffee warmed us slightly as we prepared for the next leg of our journey—the much-anticipated chair car ride to the summit. To reach the chair car station, however, we had to climb over 100 steep steps. With help, we managed the climb, each step a test of endurance in the thin mountain air.

The chair car ride was an exhilarating experience, an open-air ascent through the pristine Himalayan beauty. Suspended high above the ground, the panoramic views of snow-covered peaks, dense green valleys, and rugged terrains felt surreal. The crisp mountain air and the sense of openness heightened the thrill. Initially, I felt a twinge of nervousness, gripping tightly to my phone, and even paused recording, fearing it might slip and tumble into the vast wilderness below. But as the ride progressed, the mesmerizing views unfolded, leaving us captivated and grateful for this one-of-a-kind journey. In just four minutes, we arrived at the summit, where our resort “The Cliff Top Club” awaited a short 200-meter walk away. Resort staff helped transport our luggage, assuring us that even though the chair car handled baggage, it was perfectly safe.

Luggages dangle precariously in the chair car; a nerve-wracking sight amidst the stunning mountain backdrop.

Ascending Up

Though the chair car runs continuously, its safety feels uncertain, adding a thrill to the journey.

Upon entering our room, we were greeted by an expansive space—a luxurious 1 BHK suite with three balconies offering a 270-degree panoramic view of the surrounding snow-capped mountains, including the majestic Nanda Devi. For a moment, we were awestruck by the beauty around us, but reality struck soon after. The power went out, taking the heater with it, and the chill began to creep in. We asked about the outage and were informed that power cuts were routine, lasting from 8 AM to 6 PM daily—a startling inconvenience at a premium resort.

The Cliff Top Club

Freezing cold or not, the breathtaking views compelled me to step out and capture these mountains!

Nothing beats the freezing cold like a steaming hot bowl of comforting tangy tomato soup!

This place transforms into a pristine white wonderland, completely blanketed in snow during the winters.

The Government and private resorts stand side by side, a stark contrast in amenities and appeal.

A panoramic view of majestic mountains surrounds the resort, offering a serene and awe-inspiring escape.

Our frustration mounted as the power still hadn’t returned by 6 PM. One of the few other families staying at the resort decided to leave after voicing their dissatisfaction. We learned the resort was almost empty, with only three families and the thin occupancy painted a vivid picture of its challenges.

As temperatures continued to plummet, the resort staff urged us to move to the nearby government-owned property, where power supply was more reliable. Reluctantly, we packed our belongings and relocated. The government room was smaller but functional, with a cozy setup that included a kitchen and a balcony with a great view.

Dinner had to be ordered early so the staff could finish their tasks before nightfall. With the chill biting at us, we huddled around hot water bags, ate in near silence, and reflected on the day’s ups and downs. At 10,000 feet, amidst nature’s raw splendor, we told ourselves the challenges were part of the experience and that tomorrow would bring new opportunities to explore and enjoy this alpine paradise.

April 10th, 2024

The morning at the government lodge began leisurely, a stark contrast to the previous day’s chaos. Knowing we’d have hot water was a relief. We ordered breakfast from our room but opted to eat at the restaurant, hoping to avoid the chill while waiting. Before that, we stepped out early to capture the picturesque surroundings—a dreamland, no doubt.

After breakfast, our day’s plan was clear: a 1,500-foot climb to the summit, but not on foot. With my daughter along, trekking wasn’t an option. We hired three ponies, including a smaller one for her. The ponies, aged between 7 and 15 years, had their own hierarchy. The lead pony needed no direction, while the youngest simply followed its elder. Initially, the climbs—both upward and downward—were nerve-wracking, but we quickly got accustomed to the rhythm. Lean forward on the ascents, lean back on the descents—a simple yet effective balance.

We soon passed the now-defunct chair car service, halted due to concerns over the sinking of Joshimath town. Entering the forest limits, we paid an entry fee and were reminded to avoid carrying plastic. Our guides, young boys aged 15 to 20, effortlessly sprinted alongside us, often carrying our belongings. Their stamina and familiarity with the terrain were astonishing. They shared how their daily routine and high-altitude upbringing had made them resilient to the cold, the thin air, and the steep climbs.

The ponies, each with their own rhythm, confidently navigate the narrow paths, showcasing their instinctive skill.

The area turns slushy as the snow melts, creating a beautiful, yet challenging terrain.

Along the way, we stopped at a small temple surrounded by slushy ground—a result of melting snow. This, we learned, was a common sight during this season. After about 35 minutes, we finally reached the summit. The snow from the previous day wasn’t much, but it was enough for my daughter to build a small snowman and indulge in playful snow fights.

A temple at the top—one thing certain , from Kanyakumari to the Himalayas, spirituality at every altitude.

Finally, snow at a distance—nature’s masterpiece unfolding, a sight worth the climb.

A perfect blend of dry lands, snow, snow covered peaks, lush green forests, and a brilliant blue sky.

Though it looks like one can run around, the slippery surface makes every step a cautious one.

Snow-melted water, crystal clear and pure, flowing like glass through the rugged terrain.

The majestic Nanda Devi Peaks towering in the background, adding grandeur to the serene landscape.

My daughter’s curiosity sparked as she tried her hand at making her first snowman in the Himalayas.

Her first snowman turned out great! Not bad for a first attempt, but now her hands are wet!

A final view before we begin our descent, with snow, grass lands and clear blue skies.

We spent as much time as we could soaking in the serene beauty before starting our descent. The trail was busier now, with more ponies ferrying tourists. It was fascinating to see their discipline on the narrow paths. The ponies instinctively knew when to take the inner or outer line, maneuvering safely despite the risks. A single misstep could be dangerous, but their training and experience shone through in their confident strides.

The descent, while uneventful, left us in awe of the ponies’ skills and the raw, breathtaking beauty of the Himalayas. The summit wasn’t just a destination; it was an experience of harmony between nature and those who’ve learned to coexist with it.

The promise of resolved power issues at the private resort turned out to be a false hope. Upon our return, there was no one in sight, and we were informed that we’d have to continue staying in our current accommodation. The other two families staying at the resort had also decided to leave, leaving just the three of us at 10,000 feet, along with four helpers in a sprawling 3-4 acre property.

It wasn’t frightening, but it was undeniably lonely. With no internet inside the room and freezing temperatures outside, there wasn’t much to do. For us, being accustomed to active, bustling vacations, this felt unusually monotonous. A relaxed vacation simply isn’t our style.

Realising we needed to change gears, we decided to make the next day our final one at this isolated spot. Post-breakfast, we planned to visit the religious sites at Joshimath and then travel halfway to Nainital, staying in a small village en route. Thanks to the meticulous pre-planning and notes, I identified Chaukhutiya as our next stop and booked a room at Sangela Hotel & Restaurant.

With the plan for the next day settled, we made the most of our time in this remote location. Lunch, a nap, tea, and dinner punctuated the otherwise still day. For us, it felt monotonous; for others, it might have been a paradise.

Pink hues of the setting sun frame the snow-covered peaks, with shedded trees adding to the serene beauty. Views like this inspire you to think, plan, and execute with greater focus and determination.

Before retiring for the night, we contacted our driver, confirming an 8:30 AM pickup to avoid delays. I also settled the food bill but refused to pay the resort’s RCI charges totaling 8,000 INR. Their demand felt unreasonable, given we hadn’t used their electricity or extended our stay. After a polite but firm refusal, I suggested they take the matter up with their department heads.

With that sorted, we wrapped up dinner and went to bed, fully aware of the unique situation we were in—just the three of us at this altitude, surrounded by silence. While not the kind of holiday we envisioned, it’s certainly a story to recount: a night spent nearly alone, in the lap of the Himalayas, disconnected from the world.

A mesmerizing farewell to end our stay at Auli. The Golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow over the snow-covered peaks.

April 11th, 2024

As the sun rose, I opened my balcony doors to embrace the stunning mountain views.

With the dawn, orange hues spread across the sky as sun rays emanated in all directions.

With the sun fully out, the ponies returned, ready for their work, climbing the hills again.

The ponies stopped at the water hole to quench their thirst before continuing their journey.

To Be Continued…