Adventurous or dangerous
Are things changing for the Adventure Foundation that provides an opportunity to travel to the great outdoors?
By Ali Sultan
The activity known as an adventure cannot be easily described. The dictionary says that it is "an activity that comprises risky, dangerous or uncertain experiences," which can mean anything, from ringing someone's doorbell and running away, going on a date unknown to one's family, aimlessly riding a motorbike on the open road after dark or closing the door and letting the imagination flow by reading a book.

Mountains are my passion. I find them simply overwhelming. Being a Qaisrani Baloch, mountains are actually our home, our land. Ever since our family moved out of the mountains and into the plains we have never looked back to that home with the love they deserve.

I am not lured by the mountains which can sometimes be desolate and barren, but many things that surround them. Take, for example, the Chukar Partridge. Last year, I embarked on a journey into the Sulaiman Mountains, which led me to the base of Tiar (7600 ft), to shoot my first Chukar Partridge. While I was out to shoot Chukars, 5 kilometres from our residence, friends who came with me were actually getting to shoot sandgrouses. Amid this I succeeded in shooting my first Chukar Partridge. Bravo!

The Sulaiman Range Mountains are not the domain of any single tribe. The lower hills, more towards east, are inhabited by the Qaisrani Baloch -- of which I have scanned every inch. They are mostly barren with springs few and far between. The western mountains are inhabited by the Mizri Pakhtuns. These mountains have lush green pastures and strands of phulai, kao (wild olive) and chilghoza pines. Apart from these two are Buzdar, Eisot, Sherani and Musa Khel Pakhtuns. The largest mountain visible from my hometown (Tibbi Qaisrani) is Mizri Ghar. It's a huge peak, being the third highest of the Sulaiman Range after Qaisaghar and Takht-i-Sulaiman and is Balochistan's highest peak towards the East. Mizri Ghar consists of a series of peaks, with the Southern peak touching 9,900 ft whereas the Northern peak is 10,207 ft high.

Having seen Tiar, my next target was obviously going to be something bigger. This time, I decided to climb Mizri Ghar. All around Mizri Ghar live Pakhtun tribesmen -- to the East are Mizris, after whom the mountain has been named, to the West are Sheranis and to the south are Musa Khels and Eisots.

So, I with two friends and a Mizri Pakhtun guide arranged for two motorbikes and embarked on our journey to conquer Mizri Ghar. To get to Sakht Ragha, the home of the accompanying Pakhtun, we decided to enter the mountains through the pass of Kaura. It lies inside the bed of the Kaura Hill Torrent, named Kaura after the hard water that flows from its springs which is undrinkable. The less said about this journey the better. The torrent bed was boulder strewn, with no way visible anywhere. The Pakhtun had actually warned us about this part of the journey, but his warnings had fallen on deaf ears. I am grateful to my two friends, the drivers of the bikes, who didn't say goodbye to me half way through.

It took us no less than seven hours to cover this distance of 50 kilometres from Kaura Darra to Sakht Ragha. Having got there, our focus was on getting somewhere near the base of Mizri Ghar as early as possible the next morning.

From the eastern side, there are a number of routes to Mizri Ghar, but all are steep and no climb is less than 5,000 ft. My hosts informed me that if we were to climb Mizri Ghar in one day as I wished (due to time constraints), we will have to approach the mountain from the West side on bikes, where the climb is a less steep and easier. To this we agreed, however, only after getting guarantees that no police pickets are on the way, for we didn't have with us the bikes' registrations.

Early next morning, we embarked on our journey and somewhere near Ramak came across a metalled road. Cursing ourselves for not having chosen this route in the first place, we reached our first stop, Mughal Kot.

Mughal Kot is a small town in FATA, just before the D.I. Khan-Zhob road passes along the Takht-i-Sulaiman gorge. Here we had our lunch and tea, and set out for our destination. Somewhere between Mughal Kot and Dhana Sar, a Frontier Corps van stopped us and asked for the bikes' registration and looked into the Baikal 12-bore gun and Shaheen cartridges we were carrying. Interestingly, not a single question was asked about the AK-47 Izzat Gul (our host) was carrying. By the way, carrying an AK-47 is a custom in the tribal area, and all of them are without permits.

By now we were at an elevation of 6,500 ft. After refreshing ourselves with a cup of tea, we parked our bikes in the house of a local. Finally, we set forth to begin the climb at about 5.00 pm, with the intention of doing a part of the climb that day and the rest early next morning to save valuable hours. For this, we would have to be hosted by a local who lived on the way.

In summers, the local Pakhtuns move up the mountain with their families and herds. At higher elevations, they dig ponds to store water. They stay at these heights grazing their herds till the ponds get dried. About three hours before dusk, we managed to climb 7,300 ft, and arrived at the house of one man called Baran who was a complete contrast from all the other Pakhtuns I have ever met. He gave us water to drink and told us to get lost.

Now we couldn't turn back. There was one more house we could rely on. And shortly before dusk we reached the house of another man called Jamali. He offered us the only two beds he had for the night, which incidentally were still too short for the four of us. I suppose we didn't have a choice but to graciously accept the offer. We had tasteless rice cooked in lassi without any salt or sugar.

Talking of sleep, none of us actually got any, as we were too lightly clothed for a cool breezy night at 7,500 ft altitude. To add further excitement, something started violently rattling inside the drum kept in the room for overnight use. None of us had the guts to peep into the drum… a snake. We guessed. It so turned out that it was a rat, which had drowned by the time we gathered courage to check what disturbed us at night.

The dawn of May 24 marked our final day of the expedition. We were going to make it to the top. At sunrise we set out for the final climb. Suffice to say in four hours we made it to 9200 ft, on the great flat plain that lies atop the Mizri Ghar. We saw chilgoza pine trees in abundance, and not the denuded ones like those in Murree hills. With no diesel spewing machines anywhere near and clean air, it was like nothing I had ever seen before. Flowers and fragrances of all kind, tits and serins chirping, chukar partridges calling… it was like being in heaven. Towards the South we could see Tiar (7,600 ft), Nishba (7,800 ft) and Beho (8,200 ft). Towards west and north were other huge mountains of Balochistan. Towards the East were smaller mountains. It was a sight like we had never seen before.

We had to turn back from a height of 9,300 ft. The peak at 10,207 ft laid a straight walk of seven kilometres from where we were. It was easy, but not doable because of the paucity of time. The same day we made it back to Ramak, and the next day back to Sakht Ragha. After a lot of deliberations on which route to choose on our way back home (we were tired of jumps on the beautiful but boulder strewn Kaura Darra), the options being via D.I. Khan, via Chitarwata Post, via Kaura Darra or via Ramak Darra, we finally settled for the one via Ramak Darra. The route was much easier than Kaura Darra. We also happened to pass through Khui Bahara, the city of the famed Khair Muhammad Ustrana and his companions, who enjoy the same fame now as Ali Baba and his 40 thieves. The good thing is our paths didn't cross.

The activity known as an adventure cannot be easily described. The dictionary says that it is "an activity that comprises risky, dangerous or uncertain experiences," which can mean anything, from ringing someone's doorbell and running away, going on a date unknown to one's family, aimlessly riding a motorbike on the open road after dark or closing the door and letting the imagination flow by reading a book.

An adventure, however, is more popularly used with reference to physical activities that have some potential for danger, such as skydiving, mountain climbing, and extreme sports.

Founded in 1982, the Adventure Foundation Pakistan caters exactly to such a need. It is an independent organisation that promotes various forms of outdoor activities and thrill sports. The Foundation provides an opportunity to do things and travel the paths of adventure in the great outdoors.

Sarah Sarfraaz who works as a content writer for a private TV channel was bitten by the travel bug in her teenage years and till date has travelled four times with The Adventure Foundation. "I have always been the outdoor freak and my fondest memories are visiting Swat valley with the family. I found out about the Adventure Foundation in school and I went on my first trip with them when I was 17. The experience has been wonderful. The trainers and guides are always in control, believe me I have crossed the most dangerous points and they make it seem easy.

It's all about the highs and the lows; you meet the most interesting people and see the most beautiful breathtaking places, travel in the most horrible buses for 18 hours with the girly types and then get astonished by the silence of the mountains. To top that it's extremely affordable. But now after travelling so much and being the 'adventurer' it wears off you, as you grow older. Now if I go I want to stay in a hotel and sleep in a bed."

Mazhar Ali, a factory owner, also has fond memories of the Adventure Foundation. "In school I was the fat kid who had no friends. I never participated in any sport activities and the only hobby I had was to read books which I did all the time. This all changed one summer when one of my cousins somehow convinced me to go with him to Nanga Parbat with the Adventure Foundation. It changed my life completely. It was very tough for me as you can imagine and there were days on that trip when I cried for hours at night and felt that I would just die but when it ended, I realised that I had made life-long friends on that trip, I became self-reliant and it gave me the means to develop my character through close contact with nature, it lifted my spirits and made me into the person I am today. I am a very busy person but I make it a point to take at least one trip with my children with the Adventure Foundation."

Things, however, have changed. With terrorist attacks and the recent army operation in parts of NWFP and FATA, people have started changing their minds about going to the great outdoors, especially to the northern areas of Pakistan. Sanam Zia, mother of two, had recently signed up for a trip of Adventure Foundation that would take her eldest son to the Shogran valley but now has called it off. " The situation in the country has worsened within weeks especially in the NWFP and my spouse and I think that sending our child in a van packed with students is unsafe. It is a vulnerable target."

Muhammad Yousaf Younis, counsel member of Adventure Foundation, is also bitter. "Most people are confused; they think that all of the northern area of Pakistan is under threat which it isn't. Most of our trips are to Gilgit and Hunza, which are near Kashmir valley. We are still taking trips but the security threat in the country has shrunk the number of people who are going. Now only 5-10 percent of people are going. I hope the situation gets better."