Even while walking all day, our trekking group to Gomukh had covered just 6 km up the mountain. It was at this time that I learned a lesson. While all others had purchased new trekking shoes, I came with a pair that I bought two years ago. I was convinced that these were enough. I was wrong.
During the trek, the sole of my left shoe began to rip off layer by layer. Trekking in the mountains is difficult even with a good pair of shoes. Walking on rocks, pebbles, sharp stones and mud, your knees begin to hurt and the joints begin to get rigid. So I suppose I don’t have to explain how it was to walk without a sole.
All protective cushioning that was flapping separately beneath my left shoe had disappeared and my feet was left with just the sock and the outer covering of the shoe!
The worst part of it is that there was no possibility of buying a
pair of shoes there. The few tuck shops along the trek route sold only tea, biscuits, lime juice and parathas but not shoes!
My troubles didn’t stop there. Soon, the right shoe followed suit. Now I was left with just my socks and some shells that looked like shoes without the soles. So by the time we reached Chirwasa in the dark, my feet felt raw and the soles were hurting.
Thanks to those shoeless feet though, I got to travel on the rest of the journey by pony while several others trekked to Bhojwasa and then to Gomukh on the remaining two days. But the last lap of the trek had to be made on foot and I had to walk with the sole-less shoes again.
The most difficult part was walking through big boulders and small crevices, mud glistening in the unadulterated heat of the mountains. I noticed that the sadhus and babajis walk barefoot with aplomb.
My city softness was no match for their rugged mountain feet that has traversed such soil for decades with no protection from the harshness of nature.