It was way back in 1995 when my parents and I had a chance to visit Manali with a trekking team. We were a group of 12 people. The age range varied between 12 to 50 years. A young man of 25 years was our leader. He was a mountaineer by profession. We boarded a bus to visit the Rohtang Pass in the morning from Manali.
It was a
clear day, with the surroundings visible to the valley's depth. The
accompanying stillness of the lofty mountains via the Leh-Manali Highway was
extraordinary. It took us about one and a half hours to reach the tourist halt
at the Rohtang Pass. The breathtaking view of the snow-capped mountain was too
much to resist. We hopped off the bus at the destination and headed straight
into the snow.
The entire
day was full of fun amidst the snow and was enough to keep us engaged. We slid
through the snow slopes, and snowball throw was an all-time favourite. The
sight of the cold drinks bottles stuffed into the snow was amusing. It was a
natural refrigerator!!. At the height of 3978 meters, it was chilling to the
core despite our protective clothing. The strong winds felt icy even in June. I
often shudder to think about the extreme conditions of the winter months.
As evening
set in, the groups of travellers started to get back to their respective buses.
At this point, the fun element of the entire day began to wear off. One by one,
the tourist buses started leaving the parking lot. To our horror, we discovered
that our bus had gradually slid to a dangerous level from the cliff, with the
rear tyres barely at the edge. It was due to a wrong parking and judgemental
error. The driver had not placed a heavy boulder to control the slide.
Something had to pull the bus up to a plain surface. Otherwise, there was no
hope of all of us getting out of there.
A few
remaining bus drivers tied the bus to theirs one by one. They revved their
engines to full throttle. Alas, that was futile. Our bus would not budge from
the dangling position. Soon these remaining buses too left us. The sun's rays
became dimmer with the advancing evening. We were the only group of tourists
waiting to be rescued somehow. Two army trucks came by on their way. They
stopped by and saved us. They had heavy chains, which made an effort worth a
try. After a struggle of an hour, they were able to pull up our bus to safety.
Little did
we realize that this was only half the battle won. We boarded the bus and began
our return journey. Half an hour into our journey, we discovered a line of
buses and other vehicles stranded ahead on the narrow snow-boundary road. A
different sort of horror began to unfold. The clear skies of the day looked
like a bane now. The snow had melted considerably, creating a river-like
stretch of a few meters in front of us. Some cars were deep in water up to
their tyres. The pebbly road made it difficult for helpers and drivers to stand
steadily to assess the situation.
It was
getting darker, with icy cold winds blowing steadily. All tourists that day
were sure we had to spend the entire night in these conditions in their
respective vehicles. The elderly were breathless, the children started crying,
and some adults panicked. The situation looked grim.
As a last
effort, some drivers now got down to help. The submerged cars cannot cross the
flowing water on their own. At least five to six drivers got down from the
buses way behind. They lifted the cars with bare hands to help them through the
accumulated water. They moved about six vehicles with this method alone.
Finally, the buses could proceed with extreme caution through the water.
It was dark
when all the vehicles crossed the watery stretch. All buses and cars moved on
with a full beam of headlights as darkness set in. It was perhaps a rare
opportunity to see the strict discipline of the drivers on this tricky road. We
reached our hotel at 10 pm at last. That day I realized the bewildering nature
of the lofty mountains. It could turn risky at any moment. Be it clear weather
or otherwise, the danger and uncertainty were companions.
It was a
trip that has been etched in my memory forever.