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On the right trek, age no bar

When we cross the magical figure of 50 years, something happens to each one of us.

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Suniti Kharbanda

When we cross the magical figure of 50 years, something happens to each one of us. We realise that we have now crossed the half-way mark of life even if we complete a century. In simple words, we are over the hill.

The same happened to me. I took stock of my life and realised that while I still had the energy, I had many things to do. Keeping in mind ‘YOLO’ (you only live once) I started ticking off items from my bucket list. I decided to go in with the most arduous task because after this the energy levels would be only going downhill. I zeroed in on trekking in the mountains. The next thing on the agenda was an outing without the men folk, so that I could learn to manage the logistics on my own. Tour operators were shortlisted and the destination chosen on the basis of the approachability and difficulty level of the trek. The booking was for a three-day trek in Kangra valley. With this done, the focus was now on building up stamina. 

The day finally dawned when kitted with a trekking outfit and a backpack I met the other members. The youngest member was a teenager, and as the oldest in the trek team, I was ‘auntyji’! I soon realised that it was an advantage. A lot of love and respect came my way. Since it was my first trek, there was always a helping hand close by. Walking through rhododendron trees, listening to birdsong, inhaling the fragrance of wildflowers was exhilarating. On the flip side, eating light food at odd timings, staying in small tents, napping in sleeping bags, using makeshift toilet, having no mobile network and no access to electricity is not for the faint-hearted. But this isolated environment fosters the best of friendships because you spend time talking to each other rather than staring at mobile screens. Age, gender and social backgrounds become irrelevant. 

Though I had planned the trek in April because of good weather, Mother Nature had other plans! The first night in the tent we were lashed with rain, hail and thunderstorms. The toilet tent flew off and had to be retrieved later! I thought that my trekking dream was doomed, but the morning was bright and clear. We crossed a shallow river with a makeshift log bridge. We walked 10 km through snow wearing microspikes. Drinking fresh water from springs replenished our sagging energy. The 14-km trek, half of it while gaining altitude, was a test of fortitude. The descent was less eventful, except that the melting snow had increased the river’s volume and it was impossible to cross it now. The guides created steps using river boulders and making a human chain.  

From a sedentary life to an action-packed trek, the contrast was stark but beautiful. I understood the truth in TS Eliot’s words: ‘Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.’ 

There were promises to be together for another trek. Awaiting the next call from the mountains.

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