The view does it. It stops you in your tracks – the sheer sweep of the ranges – from Banderpoonch through to Uttarakhand’s tallest peak, Nanda Devi.
What more can one ask for?
‘She imposes upon her votaries an admission test beyond their skill and endurance,’ wrote the explorer H.W. Tilman, setting out with Eric Shipton looking for a route to this remotest of peaks. It is surrounded by a 70-mile barrier-ring of 12 peaks over 21, 000 feet high, and no depression below 17,000 feet. Except westwards where the Rishi Ganga rises at the foot of Nanda Devi to drain some 250 square miles of ice and snow, carving for itself one of the most terrifying gorges in the world, at the end of which she rises to 25,643 feet. It is as if a queen were surrounded by her courtiers, and worshipped by the mountain folk.
On August 29, 1936, that after nearly half a century of trying, Tilman and Odell became the first to summit the peak.
‘Look! Ganesh!’ said my ever-helpful publisher Pramod Kapoor. ‘Look what I found!’ While looking for fresh material for the French edition of my book on Himalayan Mysteries, he had found a letter dated August 23 1942 written by a mortified Squadron Leader A. H. Young, to the Royal Geographic Society: ‘Pilot Officer Waymouth, Royal Air Force of the No. 60 Squadron, stationed at Ambala, on December 27 1939 took off in a Bristol ‘Blenheim I’ with a Sergeant Pilot as a photographer-observer on a routine practice flight.
‘On reaching a high altitude, Waymouth saw the jagged teeth of the Himalaya shining in the brilliant sunshine. Fascinated by them, he flew towards them, and selecting the highest, Nanda Devi he flew towards it climbing steadily at the same time.
Of course neither pilot nor observer were clothed in more than their uniforms and ordinary flying overalls of linen; nor were they equipped with integrated oxygen masks. Despite this they reached the maximum altitude of around 23,000 feet.
‘At this altitude, though the pilot was fairly comfortable, the observer was almost overcome by lack of oxygen and woke up from the drunken effects characteristic of this lack of oxygen.
‘Thus far, Waymouth had never before taken more than a passing interest in mountains and, when I spoke of the inaccessible nature of Nanda Devi, he was considerably shaken to realise the magnitude of the risk he took in going there!
‘I consider it one of the most dangerous mountains over which to fly – for engine failure or human collapse can only mean a crash landing somewhere in the Inner Sanctuary, out of which it would be hardly possible to escape without proper food or equipment!’
Should you ever face those snow-capped massifs from the hills, spare a moment for those incredible men, wearing only linen uniforms, in their basic flying machines going – where no man had gone before – and living to tell the tale.
