The cartographers of tourist maps seem to have missed out north Sikkim but the earthquake of 2011 didn’t. Passing the deep ravines, glistening mountain peaks and seemingly endless and winding high roads, the makeshift road we took made our drive feel like a bone-wrecking trip in a beat-up old jalopy!
The enchanted portal to this virgin land is Chungthang at 5,600 feet. Chungthang is situated at the cusp of Lachen and Lachung rivers, both tributaries of the Teesta. Eponymous towns lie alongside each. Two roads fork out — one east to Lachung, the other west to Lachen. The peaks laden with ice vanilla-milky snow seemed at handshaking distance from the glass-encased lounge of our guesthouse. The mighty Teesta, seen from our high perch flowed contemptuous of its man-made bindage of check dams and spillways for generating electricity. On we went to Lachen (9,500 feet), the western axis; the next day we travelled through the Chopta Valley that was festive with the bright flowers of spring. Our destination was Gurudongmar, a sacred lake situated at 17,100 feet. Legend says its waters possess miraculous powers. Strangely, though the lake freezes during winter, one spot specially blessed by Guru Rinpoche stays ice-free.
Lachung (8,600 feet) in the eastern part of north Sikkim attracts more tourists because it is a veritable panorama of snow-capped mountains, tumbling waterfalls and pristine streams. The roads are kinder on the bones than north Sikkim’s and the drive to Yumthang (11,800 feet) through a valley riotous with rhododendrons was a NatGeo experience. For the weather changed without announcement, the sky clouded over. Shouting at the nature’s deceit, we felt the pit-a-pat of raindrops quickly turning to soft snowflakes winnowing about in the crisp mountain air. By the time we reached Yumthang, it was snowing copiously.
The drive to Zekuphyak and Katao took us along winding mountain roads quilted by streams with wild horses grazing on the meadows beside. Katao was nature’s broken promise, for a landslide put paid to our plans. But from where we stood, the glacier seemed a gigantic mass of ice suspended in the sky in all majesty.
Then the next day it was back to Chungthang, and on to Bagdogra airport, reliving the week spent — sans mobile networks and Internet — in the lap of nature, happily tired before we’re hurled inexorably back to the hustle and bustle of our urban lives.