Finally we were setting off on our trek to the Solang Valley. We had been assured there would be snow in the valley, the scenery was stunning and crucially it was an easy walk. Since arriving in Manali three days ago off the back of a rickety old bus, which would probably have failed it’s M.O.T three times over, we had been threatening to go on this trek, but events had seemed to conspire against us.
I had been unable to acquire a map of the Valley and hence the route, which was a slight concern. I was placated however by a friendly tourist guide who assured us that it was an easy trail, which was clearly marked. We decided therefore we would go the next day.
The day came, we rose early and headed into town to conduct a minor piece of business, getting Marks Rabies shot. Mark having been attacked by a troup of mangy monkey three days previously in Shimla. This proved a little tricky as the whole town was closed, bar a single doctors, the 28th, according to Murphy’s law was the date of a festival exclusive to the Kullu Valley. We resolved this problem latter in the day when the town came back to life and resolved to go the following day.
Setting off early we reached our first pit stop, breakfast, at around 10 and lounged around for the best part of an hour before starting proper. The trail was fine at first until we reached a flanking valley where the trail petered out. Descending the slope to cross the river we soon realized that we were clambering all over some poor farmers recently sown crop. Quickly we dashed across the valley and up the next hillside hoping no one had noticed.
Managing to pick the trail back up on the other side we carried on for another half hour before arriving at the first village, the number of villages being our only clues that we were heading the right way. Passing through we soon arrived at a bridge crossing the second valley, where, once again, Mark managed to fit in a photo opportunity, this time with a bunch of local youngsters!
From this point on the trail became more of a road and hugged the valley floor. We passed two waterfalls and numerous slope failures. Clearly someone had neglected to realise that hacking into the base of a slope whilst driving a road through without suitably reinforcing it might just result in failure!
It wasn’t long however before we had arrived in the third of four villages, we seemed to be on track. I picked up a bottle of water from the first shop in around 6km before heading out of the town where the road/trail split in two. Here a map would have really come in handy. Luckily a couple of locals informed us that there was the trail and a ‘shortcut’, in our wisdom we opted for the shortcut. I mean it had to be good, didn’t it? Uttering the word shortcut, halfway into an 11km hike in baking conditions to a couple of ill prepared fools is like waving a red flag in front of a bull! We were soon to discover that there is a reason we humans are considered to have evolved beyond mere animals.
The shortcut was steep and the sun was beating down as we passed through, what in a couple of weeks time would be flowering orchards. Before long we had reached the army camp, our final way point to the Solang Valley. Here the tourist guide had advised skirting around the wall of the camp from where Solang would only be a further 2km. We started out after confirming the direction of Solang with a couple of locals, who gave us the strangest looks when it became clear we intended to follow the walls of the army camp through a deepening snowfield, littered with boulders. Around half an hour in, after getting nowhere fast and with each footstep sinking into every deepening snow drifts we decided to call it a day.
Turning back I decided it would be a wonderful idea to descend through the snowfield and attempt to cross the river. I reasoned it would be an easier route back than the one we had taken as the snow had melted on the other side and there was a not too distant road. Clearly this was nonsense, however I did manage to get some nice ‘shots’ of the river and the distant mountains.
Eventually arriving back at the head of the shortcut we trudged back to Manali. How we had needed a map I thought to myself. I longed for a Ordnance Survey map, beautifully highlighting every insignificant mound of dirt, fencepost and telephone box. There are some things the Indians do better than the British, food and mountains for instance, mapping, however, sadly ain’t one of them!
