Trekking on the Trachycarpus Trail
(page 4)
The view from our occasional resting places was
incredible: snow capped mountains seen beyond mile after mile of
tree tops. The higher the altitude, the thinner the atmosphere,
and Wilko and I were both gasping. Our two guides, however, seemed
to take it all in their stride, and I think were faintly amused
at these two weak westerners, panting for breath. The sun was hot,
but the air was cool and provided a welcome chilly breeze. Every
so often we caught a glimpse of the summit and its temple through
the thickening forest. Nearer and nearer and then suddenly there
we were, at the top. More handshakes with each other and the guides.
The temple itself was an open stone cabin, and inside
was a small statue of the goddess Shiva to whom it was dedicated.
There were flowers, candles and incense, and, hanging from the roof
beams, hundreds of brass bells, some just a couple of centimeters
or so in diameter, some half a metre or more across. Our guides
rang them loudly and their clear notes rang out across the surrounding
valleys and echoed back from the distant hillsides, giving a scare
to a troop of large silver-backed monkeys which went crashing off
through the treetops. Here we really felt as though we were on the
roof of the world, and close to heaven, both literally and metaphorically.
We stayed here for an hour, prepared and ate a meal,
and took long drinks of water from our canteens. After all of our
hard work, the water was like nectar to us, even though the purification
tablets made it taste of swimming pools. As we were leaving I was
distressed to see Hareesh take all my carefully collected litter,
and before I could stop him, hurl it into the forest below. Oh well,
food for the monkeys I suppose.
We set off down by the same path but soon broke
off onto a side track, and began descending the north side of the
mountain. It was noticeably cooler, and damper, as the sun doesn't
shine much on this face. The vegetation also was different. It grew
in thick, rich, moist humus, and generally looked more green and
lush. We came across a pretty species of bamboo with many tiny leaflets
giving it a fox-tail appearance.
We had been descending for only a few minutes when
Hareesh spotted a tiny palm seedling growing by the side of the
track. Definitely Trachycarpus. Then we saw another and another,
and we left the path, more or less following their direction. They
became more numerous and larger: up to about a metre and a half
tall. Our excitement knew no bounds as we slipped and slithered
down from one plant to another, which were getting bigger by the
minute. It became apparent that they were growing in just this one
narrow and steep valley, as when we strayed too far from its floor,
the plants diminished both in size and number.
We just had to find the adult trees that produced
the seeds from which the young plants we were looking at had grown.
We could see down into the valley to an extent but much of the view
was obscured by vegetation. We saw a fairly large plant on the other
side of the valley, about 20 metres away, and resolved to reach
it. Leaving the rucksack with Karen, we scrambled across the steep
slope, hanging on to other plants, and occasionally, it must be
admitted, the palms themselves, to prevent ourselves from slipping.
It was quite dangerous in places; logs which seemed solidly moored
slid away at a touch and went crashing down the steep face. Eventually
we reached the tree, and with difficulty (simply because of the
angle of the ground) posed with it for photos. The crown was covered
in chestnut coloured tomentum, as mentioned in Beccari's description,
written 100 years ago.
We made our way back to where Karen was anxiously
waiting, and by this time I was really beginning to feel the effects
of the altitude and my exhaustion, and I felt nauseous. It was bearable
but I needed to rest every few minutes. By this time it was 4pm
and as we had arranged to meet Amok and the jeep down at the bottom
at 6pm, we had to get a move on. We saw many more small plants of
Trachycarpus, but as we neared the track they became fewer and fewer,
and soon we saw no more.
The descent was of course considerably easier than
the ascent and in places the track was just a gentle slope. Even
so it took 2 hours of quite fast work to get back to the village
where Alook said he would wait. Our guides took it all in their
stride; they were chatting away as though out for a Sunday stroll,
leaving Wilko and I running to catch up with them from time to time.
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