Do I Want to Be a Mountaineer? Part 4

That very last morning began with a stabbing pain in the lower back. The idea of descending with something like a 15-kilo pack was not just daunting; it was terrifying. Trying to reassure my own tennis-ball-sized panicky thoughts, I told the coordinator. He gave the usual answer summary: "Put your mind over matter." I could barely collect myself, but it was that first step that had to be taken thereafter.

Hence, I fell!

The sun shone brightly, making the snow very slick. It did not hurt that I fell, so I got up, dusted myself off, and continued. Within an hour, my mind finally surrendered to the inevitable. In an odd paradox, the surrender gave me an adrenaline rush that managed to carry me downhill faster than I could imagine.

Keep your cozy layers ready to be a mountaineer!

The very same trek that had taken four days to reach base camp had to be finished within two days on the way back. From Base Camp to Dzongri, the trotting was tough—an endless rhythm of climbs and drops across a shifting terrain. But Dzongri to Tshoka was pleasurable. That dreaded spiral chasm had now turned into simple downslope and led into a trail drenched with blooming rhododendrons. The glorious, faster downhill was being enjoyed by me in the very first group with my heavy pack-bouncing along.

Back at Tshoka, beyond which the sporadic network bars would flicker back to life, I let out a laugh and stated I was going home as that euphoria in descending was unlike any other.

The next day was for trekking from Tshoka to Yuksom; from there, I returned with the foreign students to the campus of HMI, for their route contained a border check post not meant for Indians. Yes, it was a lengthier but smoother drive, and being delayed three hours after all others entailed free showers for me.

Civilization greets me like an old friend. After two weeks, after my first shower, it felt as if I were eating a blueberry cheesecake after three months of keto. Dinner was served at 8 p.m., and we could stay up till 9 p.m. These simple pleasures filled us with childlike joy. The shared moments bind me to these friendships I know will remain till eternity.

But the nocturnal euphoria was short-lived. Rumors about a Saturday morning hour test started circulating afterored. My roommates set alarms for 4 a.m. to do a cram session, something I had to somehow "study" with my eyes shut inside my covers. At 8 a.m., rumors were crowned with reality. Thank heavens for last-minute revision!

After completing the test, the course was, however, technically finished. The next two days, to cover, instead saw the return of equipment, clearance formalities, go for a demonstration on the rope stretcher, and a climbing competition on the indoor wall.

The feedback session with the Principal, Wng. Commander Devidutta Panda pushed us to reflect on everything-from training to the equipment, food, and what could be improved. It was a flash of 27 days passing before us.

This women’s winter jacket from Kosha helps you to stay warm, travel light, and tread lightly on the planet.

Afterward, the graduation ceremony was held. Standing with my batchmates for a group photo in front of the imposing HMI board, an overwhelming disbelief surged forth with pride-this had been my dream for two years, and here I stood clutching the certificate.

The next morning started with some wandering about Darjeeling, then we parted ways. Blueberry cheesecake at Glenary’s was an act of celebration for the roomies, Keerthana and me. We enjoyed it without any interfering thoughts, as if we really did deserve it. I passed Oxford Bookstore at Chowrasta with a handful of books about the region, endless cups of Darjeeling tea keeping me company. I had hoped to take rhododendron wine back, but was told it was only available in Sikkim or somewhere along the Sandakphu trek.

By evening, dispersed were the friends - some had started for home, and some were off to new adventures. I checked into Sterling Resorts at Ghum for the night.

The journey from Darjeeling to Ghum and then to Bagdogra Airport was enchanting. A pit stop at Margaret’s Deck, a quaint little tea café atop rolling hills, was most welcome. As we dropped down into the plains, I took off my jacket and embraced all that warmth I used to dread. I knew passing those old railway stations where Mere Sapno Ki Rani was shot was not going to be my last time in the hills.

Epilogue 

It’s been a month since my return. Beyond the stubborn suntan, my body carried other changes—swollen fingers and toes for two weeks, faster running times, and stamina like never before. Before the trek, a 3 km uphill run took me 33 minutes. Now, I could do it in 26.

Do I want to be a mountaineer? I’m still not sure. What I know is this: it’s a journey. A journey to stay fit, live consciously, and love nature.