Walking The Himalayas
With real life experiences and seeing the gigantic creation of nature that too most of it on foot, Levison Wood in this book explores the unexplored about the Himalayas and its surrounding borders
Snow clad mountains, dense forests and never ending stretch alongside the stream of water, always fascinated me as a child. And today, here I was, in my early Forties, accompanied by my dear friend Levison Wood finally embarking upon my most cherished dream. We both knew that if we had to walk then it has to be the Himalayas.
Nothing could be more exciting as well as extremely challenging then walking the path that has attracted innumerous mountaineers, adventurers and conquerors for so many years. For me it was the first time I was introduced to this majestic natural beauty, but for Wood’s he was revisiting it for the second time. And, it was no hard task to understand why he willingly agreed to do so when he had an option to have a laid back life in London after serving the British Army for 10 long years.
Humans have lived and travelled in the Himalayan foothills since time immemorial, fatalistically pitting themselves against some of the harshest conditions in the world and often failing. For Wood, despite knowing that men have always looked up to mountains and not the other way round, he preferred to comeback bringing me along to witness the power and majesty that these sublime thrones seem to radiate.
Our journey began from the Wakhan Corridor in Afghanistan, considered to be the start of the Greater Himalaya Range. Wood, an avid researcher before hitting the pathway seemed like an atlas in human form knowing every minute detail about the trail. According him there seems to be a dispute over what constitutes the beginning and end of the Himalayas. The Western most anchor of the range is the mountain Nanga Parbat in Pakistan, where the northernmost bend in the Indus River heralds the gateway to snowclad peaks. But the white swirls and geographical contortions begin much further West, where the Karakorum, Pamir and Hindu Kush all collide, in a massive uplift that forms the borders of Afghanistan, China and Tajikistan. Likewise to the East, the spinal column of Asia appears from Bhutan and spills across eastern Tibet, India and Burma. As Wood’s was mentioning all this, I was actually transformed into this gigantic belt of natural beauty called the Himalayas.
Luckily, on his earlier visit, Wood had made friends with one local lad named Binod, who today was grown up to be a finest guide. It was the promise made by Wood to Binod, to return back as a token of love and respect for saving his life from the sudden insurgency in the Valley and helping him see the Himalayas better, had brought him back to him. Though I was the new entrant between the two, I somehow felt that I too knew Binod for ages.
After a nap under the open sky and green grass as cushion surrounded with mountains, I woke up to find myself on a chopper flying above the Pamir Mountains. Seeing me up from the slumber with a stunned look on my face, Wood assured me that all is fine and we have left the last permanent civilization behind. Not even a jeep or a motorbike tracks could be seen down on the wide steppe-like landscape below. Virtually untouched by man, yet unloved by nature, the barren emptiness was spinechilling. It really was the roof of the world, no wonder the Afghans say that the Pamir is so high, even the birds must cross on foot.
On our journey, we came across several tribes and unknown settlements alongside the mountains. If Wakhis were dressed in nothing but rags with a stick as their priceless possession grazing the goats, the Kyrgyz on the other hand were little reserved kind. They would not even hello a stranger or visitor unless their tribe chief had met them personally. With couple of days walk, Wood and I stood at one of the most infamous borders in the world. Behind us stretched out the brown scree of Afghanitsan and unfolding before us was a glistening sea of white peaks and black valleys. One step forward, we were inside Pakistan.
As the days passed by we both experienced the nature up close and personal with its amazing beauty as well as most horrifying dangers. Like in the Maoist infested regions of Nepal, we survived a nearto-death accident when our escape jeep went off the cliff due to break failure. It was a vertical drop for the first ten meters with no trees to block the car from crashing down further. Wood, in deep pain with fracture of the upper humerus and severe lacerations, the X-ray revealed. I despite in shock and minor bruises was still scribbling on my notepad the sheer experience of seeing the death staring at me in the eyes.
Walking the Himalayas was not as easy or adventurous as I had imagined. It had its own dangers, some seen but many unforeseen. I had a choice to continue my journey alongside Wood or just to let him go. I got the bookmark off the pages to indicate I was not going to accompany Wood any further. But I reassured myself that I’m going to follow him or rather keep track of this courageous walker and amazingly talented writer Levison Wood, till he captures the Himalayas on the foot.
Thanks! Wood for such a lively writing through which you made dreamers like me see not just the Himalayas but also experience the several magical paths that goes to cover this heaven on Earth. Waiting for another walk down the adventurous trails, this time not just through a read but in flesh and blood alongside you. Till then…Keep Walking!