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| Starting the trip... |
“Look up there! There on the left
branch! Can you see it… look at its bright colours!!!” Of course I saw it… perfectly framed against
the brilliant blue sky, perched on a dried branch was a Long-tailed minivet,
it’s gleaming red body radiant in the early morning light. At that precise
moment, I was converted from a casual observer to an amateur albeit avid
birdwatcher. We were near Jarmola in the
Jaunsar-Bawar region of the Garhwal Himalayas and this was our first morning of
birdwatching.
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| The birdwatchers! |
The previous day, I had arrived at
the head office of the Forest Department at Rajpur road and after the
inauguration and briefing, was assigned Group – 2 – Jarmola, Sandra, Thadiyar.
Apart from me, our group of six included Gina, who had come all the way from
the US, and the Chandigarh birders – Rima, Mandeep, Sarbjeet mam and Amandeep - the only guy in the gang. The
Chandigarh birders had done quite a bit of birdwatching together and Gina and I
were the odd ones out – she was not very familiar with the birds of North India
and I was totally unfamiliar with most birds except the really common ones!
Actually I saw this Bird Count as a way of visiting little known places in the
Himalayas (something I absolutely love doing) and in the process, gathering
some knowledge about our feathered friends. Little did I know that this journey
would awaken my dormant passion for bird-life!
After lunch, we bundled our bags
into the assigned vehicle and were introduced to our driver bhaiya, who would
be driving us along the given route for the next three days. Being prone to motion sickness, I asked if I
could occupy the front seat. But I needn’t have worried because our driver
bhaiya was an excellent driver and none of us felt queasy or uncomfortable,
even in the roughest patches. Sitting in
the front also allowed me to click photographs of the amazing places we passed
through. Around 3:30 pm, we set off towards Mussorie. The weather was perfect
and our spirits were high. Along the way we chatted and got to know each other
better. I confessed that I couldn’t tell a cuckoo from a thrush and asked Rima,
our group leader to let me do the recording work.
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| The Yamuna river. |
From Mussorie,
we descended towards Yamuna Bridge, where we crossed over the clear waters of
the Yamuna. We were now travelling along the Yamuna river. The road was in a
bad shape and it had started to get dark. To take our minds off the bumpy ride,
Amandeep started a quiz session had us all in splits because all the answers
were so unpredictable and hilarious!
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| Dinner at Purola. |
By the time
we reached Naugaon, it was completely dark and we could see millions of stars
twinkling in the night sky… a sight that we didn’t get to see in the city. At
around 8 pm, we reached Purola and stopped at a dhaba for dinner. We were joined by another group who were also
heading for the Jarmola FRH but were to do a different trail. We decided to
continue the onward journey together as none of us were too sure of the route.
As is common in the hills after dark, the streets bore a deserted look and we
had great difficulty finding someone to direct us to the Jarmola road.
Fortunately, we were put on the right track by a kindly old man who was just
closing his shop.
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| Resident bhotias of the Jarmola FRH. |
The narrow road now wound up through
dense pine forests and we all kept our eyes peeled for the board which would
announce the Jarmola Herbal Garden and FRH. As we crested a ridge, we were
treated to a wonderful sight… a moonrise! We watched in hushed silence, as the
shiny orb rose slowly above the mountain and drenched the entire landscape in
its silvery light. Finally we reached the gate of the FRH, but to our dismay,
it was locked. A fair amount of hollering followed but this failed to arouse
the slumbering watchman. All that could
be heard was the gruff barking of a couple of bhotia dogs. We were all getting
a little apprehensive as visions of spending the night in the Maxx didn’t seem
too appealing in this leopard infested jungle. Finally two of the guys from the
other jeep jumped the wall and managed bring back the befuddled watchman who
claimed he had no clue we were coming. Tired as we were, we wasted no time in
settling down, even though we had to do it all in candlelight. I thought I’d
recollect the day’s journey as I lay down, but sleep overcame me the moment my
head hit the pillow.
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| At the Jarmola FRH. |
Waking before dawn the next day, we
got ready quickly and ate the packed breakfast that had been given to us in
Dehradun. The resident bhotia dogs allowed themselves to be petted only after
we had shared our breakfast with them. Mandeep drew my attention to some old
black & white photographs of that decorated the mantelpiece. They had been
taken in the 70’s and showed the FRH and its surrounding areas covered in a
thick blanket of snow! Jarmola is at
6000 feet above sea level and even though it was just the end of October, the
air was chilly enough to make our teeth clatter.
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| Jarmola FRH. |
As the sunlight touched the tips of
the high mountains surrounding us, we spotted the first bird of the day – a
Plain-backed thrush, perched atop a conifer in the compound. Being in charge of
the records, I quickly jotted down the name and details in my notepad. We set
off from the FRH accompanied by Forester CS Rawat, who patiently answered our
queries about the local flora and fauna.
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| Lion-head shaped rock on the road between Jarmola and Mori. |
The road we walked on lead to Mori,
which was around 18 km from Jarmola. The fruit orchards gradually gave way to
pine forests, where we sighted numerous birds like woodpeckers, tree creepers,
minivets etc. It was inspiring to see Sarbjeet mam, our oldest participant,
climb nimbly up and down steep trails to catch sight of elusive birds all the
while balancing her binoculars, bag and DSLR. It was she who helped me spot the
minivet which so changed my attitude to bird-watching.
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| At Dandagiri village. |
After numerous stops and turns
through the chilly pine jungle, our hands and feet were frozen stiff. It was thus a welcome surprise as
forest cleared and we entered the sunny village of Dandagiri which offered us a
wonderful view of Kharsali – the winter abode of the Yamnotri god.
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| Fresh-water spring at Dandageri village. |
Basking in the sun to thaw
ourselves, we interacted with a few villagers who were curious to know why we
all were peering into trees and bushes with binoculars stuck to our eyes. When
told that we were looking for different bird species, they expressed surprise
that we had come from so far just to look at birds! We informed them about the
purpose of the bird count and why it is necessary to conserve out rich
avifauna. By now it was around 10 and not too many birds were visible. We sat
in the Maxx and headed towards Mori. The road hugged the mountainside, passing
through mixed jungle and occasional villages.
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| Picturesque house on the road to Mori. |
We stopped for a while near a
picturesque house set among fields and with a stream flowing behind. It was
here that I spotted my first Scaly-breasted munia, and the sight of the tiny
russet birds playfully splashing in a puddle amazed me. My untrained eye would
have dismissed them as sparrows, but when I peered through the binoculars,
their deep colour and distinctive scaly breast made me realize that even the
tiniest of creatures created by God are distinct and unique!
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| Main bazaar at Mori. |
Mori is a typical hill town with a
main bazaar lined with shops and small dhabas. At one such soot-coated dhaba we
perched ourselves on rickety benches and had a surprisingly delicious meal of
rajma-chawal. A bossy goat-kid who believed it was not a goat but a dog,
demanded to be fed and gobbled up one whole packet of Parle-G biscuits that I
offered it! We then purchased some basic rations and vegetables for dinner and
set off for the Sandra FRH which was about 2 km from Mori.
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| Emerald blue waters of the Tons at Mori. |
Just as we left the chaos of Mori,
we encountered the mighty Tons… its emerald blue-green water sparkling in the
afternoon sun. We were so enchanted by the river that we had to stop and spend
some time clicking pictures and soaking in the beautiful sights.
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| Warning on the suspension bridge! |
The Sandra FRH is 2 km from Mori and is situated on the
other bank of the Tons. To get to it we had to walk across a suspension
bridge that was built in the year 1899. A board proclaimed the age of the bridge
and the stern warning that carrying more than 4.5 quintals of load or more than
four people on the bridge was prohibited. Though we all laughed when we read
the notice, the sight of the mighty Tons rushing and gushing over huge rocks under
the bridge sobered us and we cautiously tiptoed across in pairs, with our heavy
rucksacks on our backs.
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| Steps leading to the Sandra FRH. |
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| Suspension bridge to the Sandra FRH. |
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| Sandra FRH. |
Crossing the bridge, we climbed up a steep set of stairs hewn out from the living rock, negotiated our way along a narrow path and reached the FRH. And what a sight it was… set among scores of Jacaranda trees and overlooking the Tons, this beautiful colonial building was a treat for our weary selves. As bird watching was not possible in the afternoon, we spent time relaxing in the beautiful lawns and gazebo, sipping steaming hot tea prepared by the caretaker – Jairam ji, who looked like a slightly bald Hitler.
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| Path down tot the Tons river. |
In the evening, we walked down the ‘rambans’-lined path to the river and spotted many Plumbeous and White-capped water redstarts, flitting across the river. A group of women walking back to their village were intrigued to see us and soon we all were involved in an animated conversation about village life with them. Their dress and accent were typically Himachali as this area is very close to the Himachal border. As it started getting dark, we crossed the bridge and walked to the village of Sandra for a cup of tea at the solitary tea-stall cum general merchant. This was also the local gossip corner and soon a couple of curious villager, including two hefty van-gujars, were telling us about life in the village.
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| Bird watching by the Tons. |
Back at the FRH, we were greeted to a well laid out dinner, complete with shining cutlery and bone china crockery. Jaipal ji certainly made us feel like royalty and the simple but delicious dinner in the candle light was truly memorable. After dinner, we sat down to fill in the details of the birds sighted on day one. This done, we turned in for the night as we had another exciting day ahead.
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The next morning we got up at 4 and after loading our stuff in the Maxx, started walking on the road to Hanol, accompanied by Forest guards Anil Kumar and Kitab Singh Rawat. The sky had started lightening towards the east and we could hear hundreds of birds chirping to welcome the new day. The road ran along the river and at places we could see small streams rushing down the mountainside to merge with the Tons. These places were particularly active in bird life and at one such stream Rima encountered one of her lifers – a Scaly breasted wren babbler. Determined to have a proper look at the elusive bird, Rima scrambled over rocks and down the gully, while all of us stood praying that she would come back safe and sound. And she returned triumphant, with a hazy shot of her lifer!
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| Villages along the Tons. |
Across the Tons we could see small groups of huts with their typical thatched roofs and straw walls. These were settlements of the van-gujjars who supply milk to nearby places. As we watched, a small boy from the village, hauled a bag on his shoulders and zip-lined across the river on a primitive looking pulley system… no harness, no fancy equipment! We found that he did this about four to five times a day to deliver milk to Mori. What is a high-end adventure activity for us city dwellers is an everyday routine and means of livelihood for these hardworking people!
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| Gujjar boy crossing the Tons to deliver milk. |
Gradually the sun’s rays touched
the tops of the surrounding mountains, but the road that we walked on remained
in a cold shadow, leaving us all half frozen. Finally we came to a cleft in the
mountains from where a gurgling stream rushed down to meet the Tons. It seemed
like an ideal picnic spot and we decided to rest a while in here. As we sunned
ourselves on the rocks by the stream, we heard a lot of raucous chattering and
sighted a group of Yellow-billed blue magpies on the tree tops. The magnificent
birds were a sight to behold as they merrily chatted with each other across the
tree tops. I also managed to spot a Little forktail, sunning itself on a small
rock while twitching its tail up and down.
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| Between Sandra and Khunigaad. |
We continued our journey in the
Maxx and stopped at Khunigaad for breakfast. At a small shop, we sipped hot
cups of tea under the watchful eye of a shaggy bhotia dog, and ate bread and
namkeen. ‘Gaad’ means rivulet and the village of Khunigaad gets its name from
the stream that flows through it to meet the Tons. Intrigued by the deadly
name, we learned that the stream had, in the misty past been colored red by the
blood of warring demons and thus earned this name. This stream proved to be
quite a hotspot for birds and we were able to sight quite a variety, ranging
from minivets to munias. In the fields by the stream, a farmer and his wife
were separating wheat from its husk. We got into a conversation with them and
learned a lot about life in the village.
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| Khunigaad. |
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| Breakfast at Khunigaad. |
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| Thadiyar FRH. |
As we travelled towards Hanol, the
condition of the road kept deteriorating till we reached a stretch that looked menacingly
like a quagmire. Fortunately our trusty driver maneuvered the Maxx through it
and we reached Hanol safely. Hanol and Thadiyar lie facing each other on
opposite banks of the Tons and both have famous temples dedicated to the Mahasu
devtas, the one in Hanol being bigger and more famous.
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| Damaged road between Hanol and Thadiyar. |
Due to very heavy rains
in the previous months, the jeepable road to the Thadiyar bridge had cracked in
places. So we had to haul all our stuff and walk this damaged road to the
Thadiyar FRH on the other side of the river. As in Sandra, a suspension bridge
led to the Thadiyar FRH. But the one in Sandra had been merely old… this one
threateningly tilted to one side and gave us moments of pure terror as it
swayed as we crossed it.
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| Tilting suspension bridge to the Thadiyar FRH. |
As the caretaker had no information
of our arrival (an old story repeating itself!), we had to wait a while for him
to come back from his errands and let us in. The Thadiyar FRH too was a
colonial building with high ceilings and fireplaces, though not as well-kept as
the one in Sandra. After depositing our baggage in the rooms, we walked the
treacherous 2 km back to Hanol to have lunch at a dhaba there.
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| Mahasu temple at Hanol. |
On the way we met a couple of girls
who were returning to Hanol from their school in Thadiyar. We asked them about
the birds they had seen around the place and between giggles they imparted
quite a lot of information. We also came
across two sisters-in-law who were returning after a visit to the Thadiyar
temple. They wore the typical Himachali head-scarf and jewellery over the
ubiquitous salwar-kameez. The dhaba owner, who was a sour, Mata-Hari type woman
with a hen-pecked Bihari husband as assistant, told us that lunch was over and
she’d take a while to cook a new batch. So we decided to visit the Hanol temple
in the meanwhile.
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| Main entrance to the temple. |
The Mahasu temple at Hanol is
believed to be thousands of years old and is built in the pagoda style, with
layered, slanting roofs. Entry of women to this temple was prohibited till a
few years back till a devi appeared in the dream of a faithful and directed him
to allow women to visit the temple and to put a stop to the ritual goat
sacrifices. This was dutifully followed and now, anyone who wishes to offer a
goat, simply leaves it in the temple complex, rather than butchering it. This
is the reason why you see a number of
goats of various shapes and sizes frolicking about in the temple complex. One
big ram decided to act as our tour guide and followed us all around the temple
till we finally appeased it by feeding it prasad. Another goat-kid merrily
gamboled near the sanctum-sanctorium and even posed for us in front of the
colourful temple murals. Gina, who was visiting India for the first time was
awe-struck by the rich carvings and couldn’t stop clicking photographs.
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| Metal carvings in the sanctum sanctorium. |
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| Goat kid posing in front of the wood carvings. |
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| With our 'guide' ram! |
Walking back to the FRH after
lunch, Mandeep and I who were walking in front saw some activity in the bushes
by the road. Stopping to investigate, we saw two bright yellow birds with
distinctive black markings fly from one bush to another. “Black-lored tits!”
shouted Mandeep, unable to suppress her excitement. As I looked through her
binoculars, I saw these two brilliant yellow birds with a punk-like hairstyle
and black eye pieces that made them look like comical filmi bandits.
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| Thadiyar temple. |
Aman decided to rest a while at the
FRH while the rest of us climbed up a narrow path to the Thadiyar temple.
Smaller than the one at Hanol, this temple boasts of a large (and extremely
new) statue of the Nandi bull which is visible even from the road across. Down
below on the other side of the river we could also see the Hanol temple.
Sarbjeet mam went into the temple to join for the evening prayers while Gina
tried to teach the village children not to litter the ground with the wrappers
of the toffees she had given them.
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| Local kids posing at the Nandi statue. |
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| View of the Hanol temple across the Tons from Thadiyar. |
Reaching the FRH, we sat down to note down our day’s bird sightings, and after a quiet dinner, went off to sleep early as the whole of the next day was to be spent in travelling back to Dehradun.
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We left the FRH under the cover of
darkness early next morning as we had to cover quite a distance back to
Dehradun. Crossing the rickety bridge in feeble torchlight, with the Tons thundering
under, remains firmly imprinted in my memory. Driving along the deserted, bumpy
road through sleepy villages, we tried hard not to doze off and kept reminding ourselves that hot tea and
‘parathas’ would surely be available somewhere in Tuni. Unfortunately, we
reached the city so early that none of the ‘dhabas’ or tea stalls had opened up
and we had no option but to drive on till the next settlement.
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| Barren landscape between Tuni and Kanasar. |
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| Road to Kanasar from Tuni. |
After Tuni the road that up to now had been following winding along the Tons, veered left and climbed steeply up. The landscape was totally devoid of trees or bushes and seemed like almost like a moonscape. As we gained height, we were treated to stupendous vistas of countless ranges in vivid shades of brown and purple. This hauntingly beautiful landscape was totally devoid of human life and we passed just one truck in the three hour journey from Tuni to Chakrata.
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| Saavda village from a distance. |
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| After breakfast at Saavda village. |
It was almost eight now and our rumbling stomachs were getting louder with every passing kilometer. At last we spotted a small village on a hill down the road, but it took us around half an hour to reach it as the narrow mountain road wound tortuously around at least three intervening mountains. Here at Saavda village, we gorged on yummy ‘aalu-parathas’ served with ‘chutney’ made of sheep-sorrel (locally known as ‘hamda’) and the most delicious curd I’ve ever tasted. Energized with the sumptuous breakfast, we started a round of ‘antakshari’ in which Gina, unfortunately, was unable to participate. Sarbjeet mam surprised us all by leading her team to victory by singing some really ancient movie songs.
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| View of the snow range from near Kanasar. |
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| Locals pruning apple trees. |
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| Deodar-lined road to Kanasar. |
Moving on towards Dehradun, I sat contentedly, recollecting the amazing four days I’d spent with this wonderful group. Not only had I discovered the joy of bird watching, but I had also passed through some of the most beautiful places of the Garhwal Himalayas. My group mates, without exception, had welcomed an amateur like me and helped me discover and enjoy the amazing and diverse avifauna that I’d been unaware of till now. I also sent up a silent prayer for Prateek Panwar and his un-tiring group at ARCH who, despite the mind-boggling logistics involved, provided us this unparalleled experience.
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| Moon over the mountain. |
Reaching Dehradun, we were joined by jeep-loads of other birders, who too had spent the past three days trudging through beautiful countryside, sighting rare and not so rare birds and just about exulting in the bounties of nature. Sharing my experiences in the closing ceremony, formed a bond with the other birders and while I’d felt like an interloper during the opening ceremony, I now felt one with the group. Bidding goodbye to my group members and organizers I knew for certain that - I’ll be back!
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