What I could not achieve at Kanchenjunga base camp, the Mountain God

helped me witness at another peak, writes DEEPAK RANADE

We, a group of 13 doctors,are on a trek to the North Base Camp of the

Kanchenjunga, in Nepal. We start off from Cheruwa, a small town at the
height of about 3,000 feet. The trek traverses through tougher and steeper
terrains as we advance to the higher camps of Sukhetan, Amjilosa and
Gyabla. All these are small villages, cosily tucked away in the mountains. The
gradients begin to strain our lungs and quadriceps. On the third day, we
cross 8,000 feet. We are on the brink of an altitude, where the body starts
getting stretched.

Routine checks of our oxygen saturation shows a dip from the required level
of 95-100 %.Breaching these levels indicate poor adaptation by the body and
could lead to complications.

We camp in Gunsa at a height of 10,000 feet for the night. The next day, we
set off for Khambachen. We pass through meadows of rhododendrons. Gently
swaying in the breeze, these flowers of different hues bring joy to the heart
and lift sagging morale. Walking is becoming difficult due to thin air.
The river that was keeping us company just a few hours ago is now reduced
to a silvery serpentine thread, deep down in the valley. I have trouble
breathing when I try to negotiate a steep incline. My lungs can’t cope with
the demands of my body. The skies are overcast and soon, it starts snowing.
I am battling hypothermia along with fatigue and altitude sickness.

Acclimatisation is all about giving adequate time to the body to equilibrate

the pressure differentials. I say a silent prayer to the Lord: “Please help me.
I’m helpless and stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

Am I hallucinating or do I hear an unmistakable baritone? “Son, take the

next step”. I’m almost paralysed with exhaustion and hesitate. “Son, it is the
only option you have. Take the next step. At this point, your destination is not
the top of the climb. It is just the next step. This next step is the crucial link
between you and the destination. You have to keep going. The secret is to
look at the next step as the destination and the destination as the next step.
Don’t get trapped in nomenclatures.”

I just take the next step. And the next. I don’t think much about anything
else. I make slow progress. The next 2km take an hour despite the level
terrain. I finally stagger into the camp site, hypothermic, exhausted, and I
presume severely hypoxic. The high levels of lactic acid in my muscles cause
severe cramps. My oxygen saturation is a depressing 72%. I am in the grip of
acute mountain sickness. I have to take rest, give my body time and warmth
to recoup. Our leader and other doctor colleagues unanimously decide that I
should not carry on. It’s tough to abort the trip, miss the stunning views of
the Kanchenjunga, and the company of my friends. Retreating requires the
greatest courage.

I wait at Khambachen hoping that I will recover. The next day I see off my
colleagues. While I am resting in the camp, the porters mention about Jannu,
a 7,000-metre high peak nearby. This mountain is considered very sacred.
These awe-inspiring, magnificent edifices are testimony to a timelessness, a
permanence, in this otherwise uncertain, highly vulnerable transience called
‘Life.’

I retire early, but inexplicably wake up at around 2am. I peep out of the glass
window of my room. The next moment, I see the most amazing blue light
that shines far away on the horizon towards the north. That’s where Jannu is
located. Then, the light reappears. It’s a brilliant blue that remains for just
about a few seconds. This phenomenon continues for about 20 minutes. I
wake up at 5.15am. It’s daybreak. On an impulse, I decide that I’m going to
pay a visit to the ‘Jannu view point’. The blue light beckons me.A celestial
cue from the Mountain God? I pick up the gauntlet. I wake up Vishnu, the
porter, who agrees to accompany me. The walk begins and I am
apprehensive. My lungs are still recovering. As we ascend, I get a glimpse of
the eagle head, that’s the summit of Jannu. Can I stretch myself today? I
have to climb about 2,000 feet and ascend to about 15,000 feet.

I start the ascent in right earnest. Life is all about taking risks, challenges,
and developing one’s own abilities en route. Getting tired is a mental
phenomenon. I certainly am not a victim who yields to circumstances and
games the mind plays.I need to be a predator of my fears. I stop again. I look
up and get a closer view of Jannu. My body is suddenly charged with a rush
of adrenaline. I continue to climb, and this time I don’t take a pit stop for
almost 10 to 12 minutes. I realise I’m making good progress. Every now and
then, I look up to the mountain that exudes power, strength and beauty.It
energises my muscles and my spirit. Now there’s no stopping me and my
resolve.

We round a huge boulder and after climbing another 50 feet, my jaw literally
drops. Jannu now looms large over us. I feel I could reach out and almost
touch it. I reach the view point. I am tired for sure, but have vanquished the
demon of diffidence that was lurking for the past 48 hours. I fold my hands
and genuflect, thanking the Mountain God for his benevolence. He inspires
me, beckons me, and guides me. I feel a deep sense of gratitude to God for
reinstating my confidence and self-belief. His benevolence makes me
connect with the God within.

Sacred Jannu
Jannu, also called Kumbhakarna, is an important western outlier of the
Kanchenjunga. Jannu is a large and steep peak in its own right, and has
numerous challenging climbing routes. It is called
Phoktanglungma,‘mountain with shoulders’ in the Limbu language — a Sino-
Tibetan language spoken by the Limbu people of eastern Nepal and India,
particularly in Darjeeling, Kalimpong, Sikkim, Assam and is considered sacred
in the Kirat religion.

Riot Of Colours
Kanchenjunga and its five massifs are spread across Nepal, Tibet and India
(Sikkim). Nestling in the lap of Kanchenjunga are rhododendron forests
consisting of diverse species of flowers. Most hiking routes pass through
these forests. Rhododendrons, orchids and other blooms create a riot of
colours including red, pink, yellow and mauve; especially from late April to
mid-May, the forests are ablaze with brilliant rhododendron blossoms both in
low and high altitude regions.