A Havoc in the Himalaya
Photo: Aman Panwar
An overpopulated trip to Kedarkantha made Aman Panwar reflect on the dangerous rise of ‘tourist-trekkers’ in the Himalaya, where unprepared throngs are destructing the natural habitat and profits are being made at the cost of environment.
“Hato! Hato!” A voice approaches me. “Make way. Side please.” The voice is soon followed by a man, and three mules loaded with rucksacks and gas cylinders. They are struggling to find a way to pass through the vehicles, humans, and their own acquaintances who are carrying similar loads. I had never felt this claustrophobic before on a trek; but now, in that almighty swell of humanity, I felt the panic rise in my chest. The people flowed like rivers, never stopping for obstacles, only swirling around them.
On that narrow path, one could only have the views of tall deodar trees, their soaked leaves in the December dew, newly-constructed lodges and hotels on each side. I remembered five years ago when the average footfall of this place left one with enough space for a comfortable walk. But today, here I am, crammed in with more bodies than I could count.
I tilt my head to the sky. The empty blue gives me the strength just to walk at the pace of the crowd and bottle my claustrophobia inside my chest.
Photo: Aman Panwar
With this clattery throng, one could make certain of the citizenry of a group by the prattling among themselves. Travelers gathered from all corners of the country are here in Sankri, a small hamlet nestled in the Uttarkashi district of Uttarakhand, which is a gateway for a plethora of bewitching treks and fascinating routes. But paradoxically, the masses have huddled to yomp over and get clicked only on the famous summit of Kedarkantha.
As the trekking industry in India picks up steam, with inbound tourism growing at 5-7 per cent annually and domestic adventure tourism growing by 20-25 per cent, there is an upsurge in new establishments, umpteen startups, and companies emerging in the field to cater the travelers. Unfortunately, only a minuscule number of companies are working to perform the operations in a sustainable manner. Primarily, companies operating from a metropolitan city lacking cognizant of the geographical, environmental, and cultural nature of the Himalayas usually brush aside the vulnerability of the region, and overlook the negative impact being caused by their practices. The mountains are being regarded merely as a product, and travelers are being considered as the prime consumers. It has undeniably remodeled the sum and substance of trekking as an adventure sport.
Beyond this Sankri region, Kedarkantha is unequivocally the most famous and voluminously-marked winter trek. Its popularity has grown further with the advancement of social media advertisements. Many more unregistered companies have begun to market the trekking packages at cheap rates just by cutting down their costs on the essentials of an adventure sport, including compromises in their safety requirements, food quality, the use of gimcrack equipment, and unqualified and inexpert staff. Profits are being made at the cost of environment. With business models of mass tourism and fixed campsites, the entire concept of sustainability is snubbed and detested.
In 2021, however, an association was incorporated and rules were laid down for trekking operations in Sankri, which included fixed rates of treks, capping the number of trekkers, and a security deposit from companies running treks. While all this was music to my ears, these changes only seemed to last a few months, and soon, the prices were down again, and fixed camps were set up for the upcoming season.
The lack of awareness, greed for easy money, and cunning prospects from companies, are changing the lifestyles of the locals here, too. The helpers, cooks and mule owners are assigned in such a way that operations could be conducted without paying them any extra wages. Daily departures and wrong trekking models often take a toll on them. For example, when one group departs for second campsite and second group checks in the first campsite on the same day. The ability to work relentlessly in such conditions is praiseworthy, but it is tragic that their services are availed at such inadequate rates.
Sankri is a village of not more than 400 people, but every year, thousands of people now flock to this quaint region. In conversation with forest officials here, I learned that on Christmas 2021, a whopping 3000 individuals walked up the mountain. They told me how the numbers would proliferate in the upcoming days; later I would learn that the number reached up to 10,000 on New Year’s Day.
Photo: Aman Panwar
Juda Ka Talab, a high-altitude lake en route to the Kedarkantha summit is a paradise for trekkers. This lake is situated at an altitude of 2,700 meters above sea level and is the first campsite site that offers scenic Himalayan landscapes. It is now unfortunately ornamented with colorful tents spread throughout the land that is cordoned off the lake. Loud speakers disturb the mountain air, with people yelling on top of their voices. Littered around the campsite are alcohol bottles, cigarette butts, snack wrappers, piled on the white snow.
“Bum-Bum Bhole” a group of men hoot out, as they struggle to walk on snow, panting and gasping for breath. The so called “tourist-trekkers”—or more like “pilgrim trekkers”—sabotage the harmony of nature, and the vibe of this dense, snow-covered forest. Some slip and fall, and some curse their decision to come to this place. The masses continued to chant mantras and yell slogans all along the trail before finally settling in their camps.
The next day, the base camp of Kedarkantha welcomes me in a similar manner, with a panorama of vibrant campsites chockablock, and a common herd of these so-called trekkers, continuing with the same hullabaloo. Witnessing such cataclysm, the first thought to occur in my head was about the human-waste management, which is the most important factor leading to destruction of Himalayan trails, especially when a trek is marketed in such a way. I sought some answers, and not to my surprise, the large pits were dug on the mainland months before snowfall and covered to cater the mass defecation. With the growing popularity, huge chunks of land are ploughed off every year, and grasslands are shamelessly destroyed.
Companies overlook the negative impact being caused by their practices. The mountains are being regarded merely as a product, and travelers are being considered as the prime consumers. It has undeniably remodeled the sum and substance of trekking as an adventure sport.
It was 2 AM, and I could still hear the footsteps marching on the hard snow. Chanting of slogans and Bluetooth speakers blared in the wilderness. Groups had started moving towards the summit with torches on their head and crampons on their shoes. Never had I ever witnessed the ridge adorned with festival lights. Many pushed forward with the expectation of watching the sunrise from the summit, only to be disappointed later.
This is a mere 2-kilometer, moderate ridge, now horrifyingly overpopulated with more than 1500 climbers. Kedarkantha is a mini-Everest in a way; it is now a great risk climbing up this mountain as it bears the brunt and madness of tourist trekkers—with no control over their rising numbers. The waiting line to begin the trek continues to extend, but those at the peak haven’t begun to descend yet. This not only resulted in a massive human traffic jam on the ridge, but also made conditions unbearable for those who couldn’t withstand the snow flurry and bone chilling winds on the mountain.
Adding to this misadventure, there are some travelers in large groups who were unable to find the only guide assigned to them. I wondered what they would do without any assistance, a back-up team, and negligible knowledge of wilderness first-aid. In such dire straits, one realises their misreckoning of selecting cheap offers and choosing companies offering discounts over those offering real expertise and safety.
This is a havoc in the Himalayas, from traffic on the summit, to casualties on the base camp. From littering the trails to fixing permanent camps in the grasslands. From compromising on safety to false promotion of adventure sports as picnic spots. I can’t help but wonder that all the big plans of development in the region are only leading to the destruction of the mighty Himalaya.
Photo: Aman Panwar
The Govind Pashu Vihar National Park is an important source of livelihood for the many people living in communities of the Yamunotri region. There are no waste management or sanitation facilities in the area, so garbage and sewage are emptied into big pits just outside of local villages, where they wash into waterways during the monsoon season. The local watershed has become contaminated, which could be incredibly dangerous to the health of the local people. Water contaminated with fecal matter is known to cause the spread of deadly waterborne diseases such as cholera and hepatitis A.
With negligence from tourists and other organisations regarding waste management, there is an enormous amount of litter spilling out on the base, and camps are overflowing with piles of human waste. Post winter season, the snow melts on the trail and exposes even more of the accumulated garbage. All that waste is trashing the natural environment, and it poses a serious health risk to all who live in the area.
The following morning, I was finally at the summit of Kedarkantha. From here, the magnificent Himalayan peaks of Swargarohini and Kalanag shine, as the first rays of morning sun strike their crown. But the mountain carries a heavy burden in delivering this beautiful phenomenon, and it is now more urgent than ever to protect and conserve the forests, wildlife, and water sources in a sustainable manner.
***
Aman Panwar is a Mussoorie-based adventure tour operator, photographer and writer. Born and raised in the lap of Himalaya, he is currently working to promote eco and community based tourism in three Himalayan states. You can follow him on Instagram at @vagabond_24.
