Then came the main agenda for the day. We took the rope-way to Auli at about 9 am. The skies were clear and the sun shining but as we ascended into the skies teh clouds came in to play spoilsport. Auli is a smallish ski resort above Jyotirmath which really comes alive in the winters. This winter the South Asian Winter Games are scheduled to be held here and preparations were in progress. Auli is from where Jyotirmath derives its water supply. The Government, in its omniscience, chose to ignore the warnings of the environmentalists and last year try to create stepped slopes here for skiing. A few months ago a huge and long foreseen landslide wiped away all the stepped slopes that had been created and in addition to that also cut off the water supply to Jyotirmath. Even after 3 months of the incident Jyotirmath is still facing acute water shortage.
As we approached Auli the lush forests of Golden Oaks hove into view, the weather cleared up and we could see broad swathes of sunlight and shadows colouring the distant verdant hills...
After about 45 minutes we reached Auli, no wonder this is the longest rope-way in Asia...
Here there is a smallish Cafe serving the most basic of refreshments at a horribly bloated price...
Although it was quite bright here the peaks in the distance were still cloud covered, only for a moment did we catch a glimpse of Mt Dronagiri...
Immeasurably distant and yet clear to the sight, something strange about mountains, far away yet appearing so approachable...
The glaciers on the face of the mountain shone like veins of silver in dark stone..
The Hathi-Ghora-Palki was visible for a moment too...
And there were more clouds, we saw neither Nanda Devi nor Kamet.
Our trail led us through the moss and fern covered forests of Golden Oaks. The trees were the most majestic, most aesthetically satisfying I have ever seen. And strangely enough all uniform in their common species, but also varied in their individual caprices. The light filtering through was golden-green, speckled with flame, a dancing iridescence. I always imagined the light of Fangorn in the youth of the world to be this vibrant.
The path was covered in fallen leaves, a brown warm carpet... I could barely hear footsteps. A silent, inward looking hike through a quiet place of the earth; it was like being in church.
On the way we stopped at a small mountain temple for our lunch. A quaint little structure, with a quainter deity, probably one of the many gods who make their homes in these hills and meadows, worshiped in their lonely temples by nomads and herdsmen...
Tibetan prayer flags protect the Hindu temple...
The many bells of Tautiyal Devata...
We were climbing to Gerson Top, a meadow above the tree-line. The forest suddenly give way in a neat boundary and we suddenly emerged in a meadow green with lush grass and blooming with flowers.
Clouds all around us, the weather changed here every 10 minutes. One moment sunny and the the other gloomy and dark. The visibility was rarely good, often not more than 20 ft. The golden Oak forests were now behind us...
And around us...
A little pool of rainwater appeared enchanted, like the pool of Narcissus or maybe the waters of Galadriel...
And where there is grass and rainwater, you have herds...
Flowers bloomed all around us...
Bees clustered around blue primulas...
A red flower shone like a beacon in the never ending green...
And my favourite flowers, Forget-me-nots.... they could brighten any gloomy day...
White Anemones with delicate purple undersides....
A Himalayan Marigold...
These flowers wafted a faint smell of incense, later I learnt they are what incense is made of...
The way back, we walked silent and cold, slightly wet from the drizzle, leaving the meadows behind...
Into the forests again, we turned back in awe, for a last look at what we were leaving behind....
As we reached Auli again, we sat down on the grass to watch the clouds play on the distant peaks.
If you are going to Auli sometime next year maybe all this would have been gone... The forests we walked through, all the trees are numbered and scheduled to be felled in a few more days, the government is planning an ambitious ski resort on the land. At a time when we need such quiet places of contemplation, this destruction to wantonly make way for a pleasure resort seems hare-brained idea to me. Anyways, it will all come to naught. The amount of snow falling in Auli has been decreasing steadily year by year; last year there was hardly any snow here, barely patches of 10 to 20 feet in length for skiing. Lets hope sense prevails...
