Categories: himachal pradesh, himalayas, lahaul and spiti, mountains

Lahaul – driving to Batal

Travelling in Himachal in June – 2007
Shimla >> Manali >> Rohtang >> Chandratal >> Ki/Kibber/Tabo >> Kalpa >> Shimla
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Rohtang is like a boundary to No Man’s Land. One moment you are in big crowd, cross the boundary and you find no one. If traffic jams slowed us till Rohtang, beyond there we kept stopping every now and then to look at that and look at this.

The condition of roads deteriorated quickly. Soil was loose and tarmac had long since gone. We had to wade streams that ran across the road in a bid to meet Chandra river below. A truck was stuck on the way and was removed by an efficient team of BRO experts armed with a crane in no time. As we drove further, roads were full of boulders and were fit only for the toughest vehicles with a trained driver. In some stretches we had to drive through cleared ice but fortunately there was no snow on the road. Sections of the road were narrow enough to barely let our jeep pass, and any error in judgment would take us down the valley real fast and then send us up much faster!

BRO at work
BRO at work

Lahaul and Spiti
Our jeep passes through road cut through ice

We reached Gramphu where the road forks, with one leading to Leh and the other to Spiti. It was prominently marked in the map with a decent sized dot and I was looking to pass through a small town. We passed two tiny tea shops, and a small muddy road deviated towards right. A small sign near the fork indicated that the two shops together contributed the population of Gramphu. At least that was better than a few more places we passed later, where signs put up by pwd read of places that had ‘population – zero’. Why would they want to have a name for those places?

Flowers at Lahaul and Spiti

There was no permanent habitation sited on the journey for rest of the day. One or two 2-wheelers passed us which made up the traffic in next six hours. There were a few people here and there, mostly nomadic horseman and shepherds wandering the country in the summer. Our road passed between a line of tall mountains forming a narrow valley bisected by Chandra river. The mountains were devoid of any trees and were colored brown with loose soil that could easily come crumbling down the road, causing landslides. Mountain peaks were dressed in snow that would soon melt and bare it all in high summer. Snow melt made the muddy brown waters of Chandra river to flow fast and furious. The only greenery in this high altitude desert was tiny grass that grew in the little stretches of flat land. Sheep herds seemed to be content with just that and survived effortlessly, and the shepherds probably survived on these sheep.

Sheep at Lahaul and Spiti

‘The forest departments tried to plant some trees here,’ a friend had told me back in Shimla. ‘It was not very successful. But a few trees survived in pockets and small forests eventually sprang up. That has resulted in some climate change. It now rains once a while in places which hardly ever see any rain. The result is frequent landslides which makes the place dangerous’. Indeed, rains could cause major trouble in these young mountains with sediments that can tumble at the slightest provocation.

It was 4pm when we stopped at Chhatru for a cup of chai. Chhatru, like Gramphu had no homes but just three dhabas meant to serve people commuting between Manali and Kaza in summer months. Excellent mint tea made by the energetic dhabawala who was all smiles recharged us of the long journey. Tiny streams, colorful flowers along their flow, sounds of Chandra river and views of the mountains kept us going. When we finally reached Batal, another one-dhaba settlement, it was already 8pm and darkness had fallen.

Dhaba at Chhatru
Dhaba owner at Chhatru was all smiles

Bridge across Chandra River at Chatru
Bridge across Chandra at Chhatru

That night, we stayed at the dhaba at Batal run by an elderly couple. Their names I do not know, but chachaji and chachiji is how we called them. They had arrived here for the summer from warmer climes and had re-opened the dhaba only a week ago. The elderly Buddhist couple walked briskly serving us with hot Chapathis, and spoke with great enthusiasm. Chachaji was fun to talk to and made us burst into spells of laughter.


Chachiji smiled liberally

Me speaking to driver Mangal: Let’s leave for Chandratal as early as possible tomorrow morning.

Chachaji: How early is as early as possible? Start at 12am!

He had the charming innocent face with an enthusing and ever present smile so typical of Tibetan Buddhists, and was an instant hit with anyone who spoke to him.

After dinner, Chachaji started a conversation again. ‘You guys should come in July-August. Weather will be at its best and you can have a great time.’

Me: Why? Even now we seem to be having a great weather.

Chachaji: Kya great weather? Look at yourself wearing this sweater, jacket and all that stuff.

He always had a witty remark ready and kept us engaged effortlessly.

As the night fell, we withdrew into a corner of the warm dhaba and fell into sleep quickly.

Continued at Batal and Chandratal

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