Kaza to Tabo via Palangri Peak and Pin Valley

Sat 5th May

The big day had arrived. The last Deyzor breakfast consumed, the final coffee gulped, and our gear jammed into the back of the Toyota.

Had I got everything?

Standard preparation for any big day has to be nerves, let’s face it. But the beauty of time is that it passes, and suddenly you are on your way to the thing you have been anticipating for so long.

As we had been coming up Spiti Valley, Anil had pointed out a massive rocky promontory and said “we will go up there.” Oh will we…?! I remember thinking.

The weather was fair. In fact we were all excited to be on the road again, albeit the twisty high altitude dirt version. Jeremy was avidly hanging out of the window videoing everything, while I leaned pointlessly to the right, towards the inside of the mountain.

We were making our way up to somewhere near Demul, from where we were to commence the hike up Palangri Peak. It was to be our highest sortie yet, taking us up to nearly 4900m (that’s around 16000 feet in old money). Altitude sickness had been a slight concern back in the UK, but having now spent a week at over 3500m, with little sorties up and down, we seemed to have acclimatised.

We found a spot for the Toyota and disembarked, layers on, poles in hand, water and food in knapsacks etc . Looking up we saw snow towards the peak.

We started off well. The way was not too steep, but the melting snow had turned the ground soggy. Our boots began to collect great clods of mud, so that they got heavier and heavier. But Anil showed us a neat trick, which was to walk on the springy and spiky heather, and wipe our boots that way. It worked!

The peak looked deceptively close as we plodded silently up. The air was getting thinner, so we needed to pause now and then, but we were all keen to make it, so nobody rushed.

We had to walk closer and closer towards the edge of the mountain, it being the most obvious route, with unthinkable drops to the right. Whilst Anil relished this, Jeremy and I just concentrated hard on the job in hand and I did not look down.

Then we hit the snow line. To leave the edge of the precipice as well as continue up we needed to veer left, but to do that a blank patch of snow needed to be traversed. My vivid imagination seized upon the situation. How deep is it? Will one of us just go straight through and disappear for several if not hundreds of feet? Might we cause an avalanche? My past rapacious consumption of mountaineering books was tipping me. Not that I am of an anxious disposition.

Anil seemed gloriously free of such neuroses, (having ascended Palangri many times), whilst Jeremy trod stoically on, offering to lead and detailing Anil to follow up behind me.

Using a walking pole to test for depth Jeremy prodded the snow and then shuffled forward, one step at a time, simultaneously creating a path for us so that Anil and I were not plunging into new snow at each step. This was certainly reassuring. Occasionally the pole sank deep, but the rock was always found, and so, gradually we progressed.

Just before we hit on this method however, I began to question my own sanity. I was a consenting adult! I did not need to be in this position. It was not trying to prove anything! I tried hard not look at the receding icy slope below and think of the long drop down.

That familiar constriction of the throat took hold and I wanted to cry. I bleated my thoughts out loud. “I’m not enjoying this,” I said in full toddler mode.

Jeremy politely told me to calm down. My thoughts were unprintable, but I had to. Then – a moment of inspiration came. I simply sat down right where I was, in a hole in the snow, and fished out a bar of chocolate. Drawing breath, I ate the entire bar. Anil, somewhat amused, took a video.

Suddenly, life became bearable again, and I stood up and carried on, right to the top! We reached 4,900m.

It was wild and bleak up there. We circled a shrine and drank in the spectacle before us.

Spiti River lay somewhere far below, threading along the valley like a silver snake. Across from us the snow capped rocky Himalayan peaks were ranged like an army.

Jeremy was gaily romping round the shrine taking photographs. Anil beckoned me to the edge and bade me sit down cross legged next to him in semi lotus position. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “Imagine the drop is just like water, only don’t touch it!” Hmm. We intoned ‘Om mani padme hum’ together, but mine came out vibrato. ‘Ah, interesting!’ my voice brain noted. (Note: the larynx is one’s very own emotional reservoir having a very high nerve to muscle ratio, which is why strange things happen to your pitch when you are upset!)

But back to reality. Time to descend. In our master’s steps we trod, attempting to retrace Jeremy’s path. This we safely did, springing from heather to heather en route to unclag the boots.

Rather easier on the way down, although you still had to concentrate!

A mere three hours from having left, we arrived back at the Toyota, ravenous but triumphant. No one had been sick or developed a headache. Hurrah!

Someone was rather pleased..

Slowly slowly Anil drove us back down. We had a long way to go to get to the valley floor. But we hadn’t gone far when we chanced upon a group of ladies sitting by the roadside, engaged in stirring tea and chatting. A couple of guys were also with them. As we slowed down, they beckoned us to join them.

So we pulled up and sat down with them. The ladies were full of smiles and some were knitting. They told us that we were the first to go up Palangri this season!! Another couple were stirring something in large pots. We were warmly greeted and offered either sweet or salty tea, along with torn hunks of traditional Tibetan bread, and smears of yak butter if we wanted it. Without a second thought we tucked straight in. It was delicious.

They were a great group. One of the ladies spontaneously stood up and did a little dance for Jeremy, who was videoing, as usual. When he played it back to her she was amazed and everyone then giggled uproariously as the phone was passed round.

Suddenly, another car appeared and a deathly hush fell over everyone. It was some officials checking up on who was where. A list of names was checked through. They were road workers. Satisfied, the officials moved on, accompanied by a collective exhalation from everyone else.

We really had to get going as it was a long way down and Jeremy was keen to fit in visiting Pin Valley before getting back to Tabo. We were in fact just beginning the long road home. Everyone waved cheerily and we left feeling warmed by the whole experience.

** *** *** **

It was another bumpy drive to get across the Spiti River and up into Pin Valley. Pin was completely different in feel from Spiti. It seemed to be more populated by yaks than humans, and the mountains seemed much closer and fiercer. The weather was grey and misty. In truth, all I could think about was a bath.

Anil took us about ten miles up the road as far as Guling. There is a monastery and a nunnery there where young boys and girls can be educated. It’s not a place you could easily leave, being a long way off the main Spiti highway! We parked the car and took a look around the monastery first of all. We took our shoes off to enter the temple. It was terribly cold underfoot and had begun to snow.

Opened by the Dalai Lama, the temple was new, spacious and colourful. We met one or two of the young monks walking about but otherwise it was very quiet.

Tummies were now rattling. We found Anil at a tiny home cooked momo shop and downed some freshly made ones with hot sauce. Just the job!

Next we visited the nunnery. A monk showed us inside their temple and then invited us for tea in a lovely warm communal room with a kitchen at one end and a bathroom off to the side. There was a stove right in the middle of it and mats all round the edge of the room. Having felt so tired from the climb I was humbled by the simple kindness as they enquired of Anil who we were and where we were headed. Everyone was incredibly cheerful. Even more strange in the relatively primitive surroundings was the large flat screen tv on which they were all watching video footage of traditional Tibetan dancing! How the new nustles up to the old!

Here is the Toyota parked outside the nunnery.

Soon it was time to leave and head back for the first stop on our way home, to Tabo, and the infamous geyser at the Maitreyor Hotel.