By Irfan Ahmed 

As June hit the plains of Punjab with all its fury, we once again looked northwards to the sanctuary of the mountains. This time we needed something to test our mettle, something to satiate our thirst for adventure -- and hence a trek through the beautiful tracks along the Wakhan Corridor, through the Broghil and Ishkomen valleys.

We were seven like-minded people, from Pakpattan, Lahore and Islamabad, on way to Chitral and further to Kashmanja by jeep. This was the starting point of our track and the opening of the Broghil valley.

Our ultimate destination was Sost at the Karakoram Highway (KKH), after trekking through the Chaupersan Valley across the Chillingi Pass, with a rest day along the magical Krombar Lake, famous for its peculiar blue tinge.

This track, covering a ground distance of around 100 kilometres, is suitable for traversing between June and September, but if you want to behold the true colours of its abundant flora and fauna and the tranquil beauty of Krombar Lake, July is recommended. Maximum altitude on the track, if one does not venture to cross any of the adjoining passes, is around 4,200 meters from sea level at the Krombar Lake.

For traversing along Wakhan Corridor, trekkers either opt for Kashmanja and Mitrandas, jeep accessed villages from Chitral and Gilgit respectively. From both these sides the track is easy regardless of unavoidable crossing of Chitti Boi glacier in Ishkomen Valley. However, this glacier has no hidden crevasses in summers and can easily be crossed in a couple of hours without any need for technical gear.

For those who have a flair for adventure, this track also offers opportunities for crossing the adjoining passes; more popular ones are Darkot Pass (4,700 meters) between Yaseen and Broghil valleys and Chillingi Pass (5290 meters) between Chupersan and Ishkomen Valleys.

Wakhan Corridor is also used as a synonym for Wakhan, an area of north-eastern Afghanistan which forms a land link or corridor between Afghanistan and China.

The corridor’s north was split by making the Panj and Pamir Rivers the border between Afghanistan and the Russian Empire after an agreement between Britain and Russia in 1873 and between Britain and Afghanistan in 1893. On its southern side, the Durand Line agreement of 1893 marked the boundary between British India and Afghanistan. This left a narrow strip of land as a buffer between the two empires which became known as the Wakhan Corridor in the 20th century.

We had the good fortune of getting the flight to Chitral which saved us the painful road travel through Lawari Pass besides bypassing the turbulent area of Dir. On reaching Chitral we finalised the preparations for the long trek ahead and roamed around the old Shahi Bazaar.

Trich Mir, the highest mountain in Hindukush range was visible from the bazaar, as it could have been from anywhere in Chitral, but seeing its vast snow-covered expanse behind the electricity and telephone wires was not too alluring. Traffic, heat and undesirable advance of artificiality in the centre of naturally beautiful surroundings made us run away from the town as early as possible. 

After the six-hour jeep travel we reached Mastuj, a quiet and sleepy hamlet surrounded by the high and rugged Hindukush range. Staying there overnight, we travelled towards Kashmanja, the doorway to Broghil valley from where our trekking had to start. It was another jeep ride of 10 hours -- and the same terrain that Marco Polo treaded on hundreds of years ago.

Unlike the other major tracks in Baltistan, here porters must be changed in each valley. So, we hired porters from Kashmanja and after two days were required to hire new ones in Shawar Sheer and further in Suenj after another couple of days.

Our passage through Broghil valley was marked with green meadows; carpeted with dainty flowers of varied colours. The air was pleasantly cool and fragrant, and carried occasional twittering of some birds and ceaseless noise of flowing river hidden from us in the depth on the left flank of the valley. There were a few isolated settlements of shepherds whose mud houses were constructed on raised areas next to water springs.

Having camped at beautiful camping sites of Ishkerwaz and Shawar Sheer after passing through fascinating meadows of Lashkar Ghas and Arshad Ghas, we were to reach our destination of Krombar Lake where we had to spend a rest day. As we were nearing Krombar Lake weather was turning berserk with furious gales mixed with snowflakes and small hails. It was unusual to experience snowfall at this time of the year. And here we were… where the overcast surroundings and snow covered surface even denied us a glimpse of the lake.

The next morning brought some relief… I came out of my camp and went straight to the lake. The view was stupefying. Surrounding mountains were covered with white snow. The sky was clear. Krombar’s weather and setting rejuvenated us... It was a scene from a fairy fable.

Moving ahead we came into Ishkomen valley, which was less green but had the wild beauty of its own. We camped at Suenj and crossed the Chittiboi glacier.

Our porters, hired from Suenj, killed a Markhor, a rare species whose hunting is prohibited, and prepared a delicious dinner of its meat at our following camp at Sokhtarabad. There, officials of police checkpost and the locals advised us that Chillingi Pass was not yet passable. Our porters refused to provide their services. We were forced to further trek through Ishkomen valley to reach Gilgit instead of our initially envisaged destination of Sost across Chillingi Pass and Chupersan Valley.

We camped at remarkable Varghaut jungle and Pekin camping sites before we reached Mitrandas to hire a jeep. But our luck, no jeep was available and we had to walk to the next village of Borth to rent one.

On our way back to Gilgit we stayed overnight at PTDC motel at Phandar which was situated at the vantage point of the valley with fabulous view on both sides. On one side, there was shimmering river snaking through the fertile valley, adorned by rectangular fields in varied hues from fresh green to harvestable gold and bordered by towering mountains. The other side was bejewelled by the stretch of serene, emerald Phandar Lake.

We also went for a jeep ride through Yaseen valley where trekkers descend while scaling Darkot Pass from Broghil Valley. However, electrification poles marred immaculate natural scenery, which we had feasted our eyes on in the Broghil and Ishkomen valleys during trekking.

Having trekked in Broghil and Ishkomen for eight days followed by two days’ jeep safari in Yaseen and Phandar valleys, we were desperate to reach home. But heavy rains resulting in landslides hindered our journey back to Gilgit. But we were desperate and crossed the affected part of the road on foot to reach Gilgit from where all roads led to our sweet homes.

 

Those of us who may have walked a few miles through the hilly jungles of northern Punjab would always remember the sheer bliss which the sight of a natural water spring brings to the eyes of weary travellers. Given the steep gradients in the valleys of Kotli Sattian, Murree, Kahuta or Kallar Syedan, a few hours walk invariably entails an ascent or desent of a few thousand feet. With aching bones and dried up throat, no feast surpasses the balmy effects which typically follow the first mouthful of the crystal clear and cold waters from one of these springs.

During the four-year-long roaming in the coniferous jungles of northern Punjab in early 1990s with a team of foresters, I was lucky to locate and drink from around 18 different fresh water springs throughout these hills. Ranging from precarious trickles in Charehan forests to the gushing springs between Karor and Sambli ridges, these natural water points in those days spanned a wide range of tastes and effects. Even the sources of these waters displayed great diversity including the ones oozing out of solid rocks or those dripping from porous sandstones.

Top in terms of digestive value was the water flowing from springs of Ratta Kass on the Lehtrar-Kotli Sattian road. Nestling below a thick chir pine jungle and issuing from beneath huge boulders, the water from this spring would fill a small trough, before cascading down in a deep pond on the downhill side. A heavy breakfast comprising of several parathas, scrambled eggs and milk would vanish in a matter of few hours, thanks to two glasses of this heavenly drink. I still remember the colourful fish which could be seen in the small pond down the road where deep blue water from Ratta Kass nestled before joining a big nullah.

Another spring, which made taste buds and digestive glands go berserk, was located in a small side valley of the Panjar area near Keral Forest Rest House. This water source was located in mixed scrub and chir jungles and nearly matched the dietary effects of Ratta Kass with the only difference that water tasted a little too sour. In those days, an early morning visit to that blessed water spring was sure to be rewarded with sight of kakar’s hoof marks (barking deer) which were the first ones to quench their thirst before hiding in the deciduous jungles for the day hours. It was one of those water sources which were blessed with round the year abundance, enabling womenfolk living in adjoining areas to use it for drinking purposes or for washing utensils and clothes.

This is not to say that all these water springs were necessarily blessed affairs as several of these were declared as haunts of un-explained phenomenon. The artless conviction with which the locals narrated such occult lore to the outsiders made it difficult and nearly offensive to question the veracity of these fabled accounts. In several cases, the existence of these waters was attributed to a local saint while in others the springs were acclaimed to be home to restless or mischievous entities.

There was the strange case of a spring along the Rajgarh ridge which overlooked river Jhelum. It was believed that the area was used as Shamshan (burning ghaats) by Hindus before partition and was therefore considered to be a “heavy” place, especially for the young. Abundance of monkeys in the steep chir jungles along river Jhelum next to that spring was considered evidence good enough for linkages with Hindu myths.

Somewhat similar fables were associated with at least two other water springs located near Karor road and Panjar-Narrh bridle path. The former existed as seasonal spring on the steep hill which was thickly covered with scrub and chir jungle in those days. This spring was said to be the house of an old female snake bent upon taking revenge for death of its mate. Extreme caution was advised while moving in the area or when taking water from the spring. After several visits to this spring, we could see no traces of a snake and were on the point of terming the story as concocted when a local forest officer nearly lost his life after falling down a steep rock face following snake bite in the same vicinity.

To his good luck, the officer in question was immediately rushed to a hospital in Rawalpindi where hectic administrations by doctors saved his life. Report by the doctors confirmed that prior to the fall (which damaged several arm and shoulder bones), our friend had indeed been bitten by a terribly poisonous snake. Needless to say that none of us dared to visit the spring again for many years to come.

Another water spring with less ominous history also merits mention as it was acclaimed to be the meditation place of a local saint. The spring existed next to a cave, deep inside thick chir jungles of Panjar valley along rocks which rose to height of over 5000 feet before abruptly ending in Narrh plateau. Our team worked in those beautiful jungles for nearly one month and passed near the cave many times on our way to the spring. Although, we invariably found half burnt wood or died down embers in that cave besides shreds of worn out clothes but could never set our eyes on the holy occupier of the cave. This was hardly surprising for our local hosts who insisted that Baba Jee could only be seen by the pious and chaste. We were certainly not amused by this verdict on our moral standing but going by the old jungle saying of “never reacting in wild”, we found it prudent to accept the ruling.

Mention may also be made of another water spring in Murree area for having provoked “moral issues” of somewhat similar nature though with humorous ending. In those days, a katcha track left the Lower Topa-Patriata road to enter beautiful forests of Charehan. Deep inside these blue pine and oak forests, a “Bowli” dating back to pre-partition period existed. Close to this Bowli was a sweet water spring whose water had few parallels in taste and healthy effects. Next also to the Bowli were dilapidated quarters of forest guards where we had taken temporary residence for a month while undertaking census of wildlife species. (In those days, Charehan jungles had several wild life species including jungle fowl, monkeys and leopard). Distant some 200 yards from the Bowli was a beautiful yet secluded forest rest house which was occasionally visited by selected and tasteful guests from time to time.

We were informed that ideally speaking, water from hilly springs should be drunk directly without using hands while crouching on all four. Initially, this appeared ridiculous, but with some practice we realised that drinking direct from spring made one very much part of the jungle and hills. Similarly, there were strict instructions to exercise utmost care while splashing water to avoid slightest murking of nature’s bounty. Again, different quantities of water were to be drunk depending on whether one was going uphill or downhill. Last but not the least, an unannounced or abrupt approach to water springs was always to be avoided in view of the likely presence of womenfolk in proximity of water springs. The lore went on and on… rich in wisdom, tradition and respect for Mother Nature.

Only 15 years down the road, many of these sparkling water sources in Murree, Kahuta or Kotli Sattian have either dried up or precariously exist in highly diminished quantities. Many reasons for their demise including jungle destruction, indiscriminate blasting for construction activities, dry spells or reduced winter snows can be cited.

The bad news is that unlike a denuded hill which may be planted up with new trees, death of a hilly spring is ruthlessly permanent. We need to therefore save these heavenly oases if only for the sake of “meditating saints” or “shy deer” without which our hilly jungles would be the poorest.


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