Trek from Mana Village to Vasudhara Falls

Getting to Mana Village & Vasudhara Falls
From Delhi take a Train/Bus/Cab to Rishikesh or a Direct Bus/Cab to Badrinath
Day 1 – Travel from Delhi to Rudraprayag (363kms)
Road: Delhi - Rishikesh (222km) – Rudraprayag (141km)

Day2 – Travel from Rudraprayag to Badrinath (152kms)
Road: Rudraprayag - Joshimath (109km) – Badrinath (43km)

Day3 – Travel from Badrinath to Mana Village (3kms)
Road: Badrinath - Mana Village (3kms)
Trek: Mana Village - Vasudhara Falls (5kms)


A glimpse of the Trekking route from Mana Village to Vasudhara Falls











 

            A visit of the Badrinath Temple in the evening

We intended to travel to the Valley of Flowers National Park, Uttrakhand, on the 12th June 2012, the most awaited destination on my to-do list. Photography being just next to breathing for me, I had waited for years together to click the diverse flora and fauna of the valley and today I was at Badrinath just 25kms from Govindghat, the base camp for the Valley and yes, I was excited. To make sure that I didn’t miss capturing the tiniest insects and the smallest wild flowers, I had borrowed a friend’s macro-lens for the occasion. This was the day I had been waiting for in our entire trip, but, yes there was a big BUT between me and my desires; and we had to unexpectedly cancel our plan at the last moment due to my mom’s ill-health and within a split of a second, it was all over. Thus the day started with disappointment and a grumpy me. I was sad and heart-broken like a little child and even fought with my parents over petty issues. So here we were at the end of our fifteen days long family trip and I didn’t want it to end on such a pessimistic note.
Standing at the tourist help desk in the hotel lobby at Badrinath, the manager in-charge consoled me saying that this years, the flowers at the valley had still not bloomed and its best to go there in August. But I wasn’t ready to believe, as I had spent last couple of days if not weeks reading about it. He suggested, if flowers and the picturesque scenes is all that I cared for and if I was ready to get tanned and was willing to trek for 10kms, then there was a place just 3kms from Badrinath, which would be just the right one for me.
So here we were standing, at a height of 3,219meters, under the clear blue morning sky with the sun shining brightly, at the entrance of the Mana Village, the last inhabited village in India, 25kms away from the border of Tibet. Being covered with snow from November to mid-April, the village was accessible to tourists only from May to October. Being the time of year for summer vacations, the place was now overly-crowded especially with tourists who had come down to visit one of the holiest Hindu shrines, Badrinath. Standing at the entrance of this commercialised “last village” with hundreds of cars honking to find parking slots and polluting the pristine air with their exhaust fumes, I was further saddened and thought if this was the “nature’s beauty” that the manager at the hotel had been talking about.
Disheartened and cheerless, dad hired a guide-cum-porter, Bahadur Singh, who would take us around the Mana village and also accompany us for the trek to the Vasudhara Falls. Bahadur, was a short stout man in his early sixty’s with a typical dry wrinkled face, crooked yellow teeth and a warm smile. His facial cut and dialect conveyed that he was a native and knew the place pretty well. A look at him and his gait, told me that I disliked him and now I was at the peak of my irritation, for dad having chosen a lousy guide on this dull day where everything seemed to go wrong.

A Glimpse of History: Visiting the Mana Village
Annoyed with everything around me, for nothing seemed to go my way, I choose to follow Bahadur and my family half-hearted. Bahadur tried to lighten up my mood by taking us to the village temple through a by-lane where there were comparatively less tourists, less vendors selling tea, coffee and maggi and only a couple of women from the Bhotiya tribe, selling woollen shawls, mufflers and gloves. On reaching the temple we found the door latched and locked with a huge golden lock. Enlightenment finally dawned on us and we realized that this was not the Vyasa Gufa (cave) which we were actually heading to but somebody’s home in the village where we could buy some woollen stuff for cheap! Mom, dad, Abhay and I looked into each other’s eyes and finally smirked, for having been fooled at the very go and surely this guy was much smarter than his looks and we had to be careful going forward. 
From the temple home, as I would like to call it, we headed straight through the overly crowded alley towards Vyasa Gufa, where the legendary Sanskrit epic, Mahabharata is believed to have been written by Ganesh, yes you read it right "written by Ganesh" as dictated by sage Ved Vyasa. At the ceiling of the Vyas Gufa, there was a huge rock resembling a pile of paper sheets, and it is believed that the entire epic was engraved on these sheets. The cave was small and stuffed with devotees so we just got an opportunity to peep in to get a glimpse of history. Having bowed down at the deities in the cave and visiting the nearby Ganesh Gufa, we headed towards the Bhim Pul, a rock bridge, above the Saraswati river, another attraction of this “last village”. It is believed in the Hindu mythology that it is from here that the Pandavas started their ascent to heaven after renouncing their kingdom. It is also believed that this bridge was built by Bhim for his brothers and wife Draupadi to help them cross the Saraswati river, hence the name.  From the bridge, where almost all the tourist posed for photographs, one could see a strong stream of water originating from behind a rock, believed to be the river Saraswati which flowed into the Alaknanda river below. Bahadur could be heard saying, "you are lucky to see the Sarawati River, coz its invisible in Allahabad at the Trivani Sangam, its confluence with  Ganga and Yamuna".

    Origination of river Saraswati from behind the rock (look closely and you'll see the eyes, nose and lips of a human in the stream)

                                                                                    

                                                                   A  click of the Saraswati River from the Bhim Pul

Though visiting these places slightly pacified my irritation, but I wished for something more; may be a walk in the hills behind the caves or may be just being alone away from this wild crowd and feel the breeze in my hair. Even before I could finish wishing or my legs could warm up for the onward trek, Bahadur paused and spoke in his typical husky voice “we have seen enough! Let us have snacks at the India’s last shop”, so that he could get his commission, I thought. But this is not for what I had come to Mana; to have a cup of tea and pakodas while sitting under a tin shed, in the hot scorching summer sun with flies all around. I could have enjoyed the snack better in the luxury of a five star hotel at Badrinath, I contemplated. By this time my irritation peeked and finally I lost control and burst out with anger telling Bahadur to give his suggestions only when asked and should now continue with the onward journey without delay, and he grinned.

             

India's last shop

Road to Heaven
From Bhim Pul, Abhay and mom returned to the hotel, while Dad and I started off our 5km trek to Vasudhara Falls, in the hot scorching summer sun at 10:30am, and under the able guidance of Mr Bahadur Singh. Before heading forward, we made sure we stuffed our pockets with a handful of dry-fruits, had a bottle of water, some chocolates and biscuits in our backpack to feed ourselves, in case we felt hungry during the trek. Having walked only 300m from Bhim Pul, we realized that barely 2 in 100, took this challenge to trek through the steep mountains.

  

As we walked further, the landscape transformed from brown rocky mountains to green mountains bursting with life - full of wild grass, flowers and insects, and also filled with tranquillity and quietude away from the hustle and bustle of our daily city lives. The baggage of negativity and irritation that I had been carrying along since morning condensed and evaporated under the sunny sky. Finally my search for peace and solace ended and I started enjoying the beauty along the trail.
This was quite an easy trail compared to the Gaumukh trek that we had completed a couple of days earlier. Apart from places where the winter snow had still not been melted by the hot June sun, there was a well defined stone pathway all along the trail. From the trail, we got a panoramic view of the snow clad Chaukambha, Neelakanth, Satopanth and Balkum peaks. If a look up at the snow-clad peaks was a treat to the eyes, a look down at the pathway studded with a verity of tiny white, yellow, pink, purple and blue wild flowers was a treat to the soul. How I wished, I knew their names but then a thought struck me, good that I was indifferent so that at least I stopped at each of them and admired their exquisiteness.

Road to Heaven surely has Flowers on either sides !!!
While dad and Bahadur speedily moved ahead to reach the waterfall, I stopped and clicked every single flower and shrub along the trail. There was nobody to stop and distract me from clicking today, and even if there was, I didn’t pay heed.

                                                                                  

                                                                                                  

                                                                                      

Enchanted by the beauty of this place, I contemplated, as to where I was all these years, to have missed this place. Though reaching the destination quickly was the first thing on my mind, but now the journey seemed to be much more pleasurable, so I slowed down my pace and admired the picturesque scene. If I should say, every stride towards the waterfall was helping me to take a step backward and look into my soul.

Stone cobbled path along the trail

For the first 2-3kms of the trail we walked effortlessly on the stone cobbled path which had a slight ascend but with lots of wild flowers on either sides. The only difficulty that we faced during the trail was that every twenty minutes, we were either taking off or putting on our jackets as the warm sun was now overhead making us perspire profusely but at the same time the cold dry winds evaporated the sweat and we felt cold. We could have avoided this had we started early during the day, but none of us knew about this place till the very start. This was one of the most magnificent sites that I had ever seen and the eternal beauty of the place was a treat to my soul. I wondered how a place could be so perfect and was awestruck and amazed at God’s beautiful creation and yes the manager at the hotel was right, with every step forward we were one step closer to Heaven for sure. The beauty of the place was much beyond my imagination and what I had been longing for this morning, when Bahadur had interrupted my thoughts.

 

                                                                                          

Several people crossed us during this trek, some young, some old, some rich and others poor, some with shoes and others walked barefoot on the path that the Pandavas had taken in their journey to heaven. I was specially moved by a young boy in his early teens, wearing dirty torn clothes walking barefoot along with his friends on the trail. Though this young lad had a smile on his face, a look at his cracked swollen feet got me lost in thoughts about the hardships that he would have underwent in his day to day life. His smile revealed his contentment and happiness while it seemed to mock at us who were blessed with a silver spoon in our mouth, but still weren’t satisfied and always longed for more.
Engrossed in my thoughts and capturing the entire scene on my camera, I kept walking along the pathway and came to the bank of a mountain stream which had still been frozen. Bahadur exclaimed that there was no other option but to walk on this frozen stream carefully and led the way while dad followed and then did I. The afternoon sun resulted in the snow to start melting and now the snow-covered pathway became quite slippery. Slowly and carefully, taking a step at a time and supporting himself with his trekking pole, dad managed to cross over onto the other side. I literally followed in dad’s footsteps, but the rubber sole of my shoe was smooth, meant only was walking on the city roads and not on snow, and so I skid slightly trying to balance myself, my camera and my pole.

                                                     Dad & Bahadur posing on the snow covered stream

As we headed closer to the fall, the landscape gradually transformed back to rocks and boulders from a region filled with wild flowers and grass. Being still at a distance of nearly a kilometer and a half from the waterfall, Bahadur pointed out to look at a fall on a distant hill. This is Vasudhara, he claimed ! The fall was too far, and all we could make out was a jet of water oozing out from some rocks above. Until now the climb had been an easy one but the last 1.5km to Vasudhara definitely challenged our fitness. It was unquestionably too steep as it was the first time dad felt short of breath and asked us to halt to rest. While we sat on a rock along the trail to catch breath, Bahadur narrated legendry tales associated with the fall. He said, it is believed that the water from Vasudhara Fall, the starting point of Alaknanda, falls only on people who had never committed any sins in their life and were pure at heart, leading me to wonder if it ever fell on us mortal beings.
After ten minutes break we finally mustered courage and started the trek again. Though the fall could now be seen at distance, but with every step forward it seemed to have retreated and finally after an hour we reached its base. As we reached nearer, the roar of the fall became louder and since the fall dropped from a height of 400ft, the water fell down like a shower onto the snow covered ground. Having reached the destination, Dad and I found a comfortable boulder for ourselves each and sat down. While we sat  there captivated by the beauty of this place, Bahadur challenged us to check the purity of our souls by standing under the fall, and we hesitated. I couldn’t understand the reason for our hesitation. Were we refraining ourselves from getting wet or were we afraid that our true selves would be revelled in front of the world. Dad and I simultaneously exclaimed that we would have to return soon and so didn’t want to get wet. Couldn't we find a more lamer excuse, when the hot blazing sun was right overhead!

A closer look at the Vasudhara Falls (source: Google)

Sitting at the edge of the heaven, I looked at the beautiful green meadow filled with flowers, the magnificent glaciers right overhead, the snow-capped peaks, and the shower of water droplets from the fall above and thanked God for giving me this opportunity to view one of His most splendid creations. How deeply I wished that at least today mom should have been well to visit this lovely place, whose magnificence couldn't be articulated and she needed to be there to experience it.
Now my mind was calm, my soul at peace with itself and the negativity with which I had started the day had vanished in thin air. I closed my eyes, felt the cool gentle breeze on my face and thought how simple things in life can give us happiness, about which we occasionally forget in our daily lives. I realized that all things that provide comfort to the soul are free and can only be felt by the heart, not touched, nor stored and neither quantifiable. And silently in my heart, I thanked the hotel manager, who had suggested us to take this trek, whom I had cursed this morning.
With a heavy heart, after spending half an hour at the waterfall, we started our relatively easy return journey. I could hear a voice deep down inside of me saying that I wanted to spend some more time here, may be an hour, a day, a month or even till eternity. We took the same route back but now I paused much more and walked unhurriedly through the trail, to make sure that I could stay here, a little longer. As we approached Mana, my eyes were filled with tears, as if I did not want to go back and I felt as if I was leaving behind a part of me in this valley. Before the calmness and harmony of the trail was replaced by the turmoil and mayhem of the market place, I promised myself, that surely I’ll visit this place again and that will be sometime soon!
With my heart full of memories of this beautiful place, at around 3pm, dad and I reached Mana where our driver had been waiting for us at the parking lot. Before sitting in the car, I turned back and took one last look at the valley as if trying to reiterate the promise that I had just made myself. We waved off Bahadur, our friend and philosopher for the day and left for our hotel room where mom and Abhay were eagerly waiting to hear the tales. 

 
All photographs in the document, except otherwise stated © Pooja Kumar, 2012