Neo Xiaoyun

4th year history environmental studies major at Yale-NUS College

Thursday, November 2, 2017

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”

Natural highlights on Baraadsar Lake trek

The Baraadsar lake trek was a visually stunning experience. This post will make mention to the best natural highlights I witnessed.

Hiking to Sarutal campsite on the second day, I saw a pair of serpent eagles majestically swooping low and high in the air. With an impressive wingspan of 100-170 centimetres, I observe how this bird would easily harness on warm thermals for rising in the air, searching for food without unnecessary physical exertion. Such flight behaviour happens especially in the mornings, as the sun rises above the higher peaks in the distance and heat up the surrounding air.

Amaranth fields 

Passing villages, we saw fields of red harvested amaranth. Zach and Titu explain that they are India’s version of quinoa. Like quinoa, amaranth is not a grass, but rather a nutritious ‘pseudo-cereal’, tasting like cereals after cooking. A cup of cooked amaranth contains 251 calories and nine grams of protein, comparable to 222 calories and 8 grams of protein in quinoa. They also grow abundantly in India, from the Himalayan hills to the Northern, Central and Southern plains of India, as well as the coastlines in the East, West and South. Another testament to amaranth’s versatility is its historical status in the diets of traditional communities in places as far-flung as Mexico and Russia! The crop requires very little water, and provides a high yield of both grain and leafy vegetable. Furthermore, its adaptability precludes the use of chemical fertilisers and pesticides to support and enhance growth, leaving it to grow organically. Notwithstanding amaranth serving as a local solution to India’s malnutrition problem, some activists are hailing quinoa production as the silver bullet for farmers and children alike. Popularised by celebrities, quinoa features significantly in urban food fads, who reject “coarse grains” (amaranth and millets) for more “refined” and trendy diets. In my opinion, despite quinoa’s impressive qualities, it will be a loss if quinoa is pursued unequivocally over millets, given their similar nutritional offerings, the cheaper production cost and the local cultural heritage of amaranth.

 
Crossing the tree line

On day four, we crossed the tree line, gaining 600 metres in elevation to camp at 3600masl. While the tree line was well-defined from a distance, as we trekked closer, we realised it was more of a gradual transition. There were still juniper trees a few metres below our trail, and shorter but denser rhododendron bushes that are rarely more than 1m in height.

To our left and right, our vistas uninhibited by trees, distant mountain ridges opened up before our eyes, reflecting the golden rays of the sun. We gaped at the snowcapped peaks of Swargarohini, Black Peak and Banderpooch, barely believing our fortunes in being able to see such wondrous scenes of nature.

 
(Above): Shrub variety of rhododendron; (Below): Various peaks in sight

I was also excited to see dramatic and visible creations of modern plate tectonic forces. Following the subduction of the Tethyan Ocean, located between India and Asia, during the Paleozoic era (541 to 252 million years ago), the collision of continents produced impressive rock structures and lithologies. Having not seen the ocean in three months, I was humbled to reflect on the geology of these structures formed in ancient days, when the “Indian subcontinent, adrift on the earth's mantle, moved northward to collide with the Asian land mass, driving these marine rocks, inch by inch, five miles into the sky” (Peter Matthiessen's The Snow Leopard).

On day five, we hiked 15 kilometers from the  campsite to Lake Baraadsar and back, crossing into alpine tundra. Some of our hiking paths were scree – collections of broken rock fragments at the base of cliffs and valley shoulders, which threatened to loosen under my feet. Screes are the result of physical and chemical weathering and erosion acting on a rock face, and mostly attributed to the formation of ice within mountain rock slopes. As rainwater or snowmelt collect in the cracks of rocks, the water freezes and expands at night when temperatures drop below zero. The increases in volume of the ice exerts pressure on the cracks in the rock, causing them to split further. During the day the ice melts and the water seeps deeper into the cracks. At night the water freezes again, and the process repeats itself until a slab breaks off from the larger rock.

 
(Above, pc to Skye): Ascending the scree field; (Below): Resting at the top

After crossing a pass at 4400masl – my personal ‘altitude ceiling’, we entered a massive bowl-shaped snow field that resembled a cauldron because it was surrounded by ridges on all sides. It was beautiful, and so cold that there was snow on the ground at 12 noon!

Alpine tundra, a massive bowl-shaped snow field

The final destination made it all worthwhile. The blue-green, high altitude Baraadsar Lake is located at a height of 4300masl and about 400 metres long. Considered sacred by the locals, it is popular among the locals and we were offered small pieces of coconut when we arrived. As I arrived 35 minutes ahead of the group, I sat close to the water, beholding its crystal clear blue-greenness. Returning from the trek, I read that high altitude lakes are so blue because as glaciers melt, filling these pools with water, glacial flour – or very finely grounded rock – are suspended in the water. As these particles are near the surface, they distort the wavelengths of lights that hit the lake, reflecting visible hues that fall in the blueish-green end of the spectrum. That was interesting to learn as I always assumed the presence of special mineral content in these lakes.

Lake Baraadsar

Finally, to top off an experience that reminded me of the wonders of nature, on the final day of our trek, we saw what remained of an old steel suspension bridge across a river. The debris looked absolutely dystopian against the river’s relentless flow, and to me, almost a warning against the futility of human’s accomplishments in the broader, natural scheme of things.

An old steel suspension bridge, destroyed by the river’s flow

 ~End~

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