________________________

Springtime in the Indian

________________________

Trying to describe all noticeable differences between ski touring in India and anywhere else would be an insurmountable task, it simply abounds in peculiarities. Relating it to friends I am often presented with quizzical looks as people often forget that Northern India is home to the mighty Himalayas and has a snow season on par with Europe or North America.

Skiers have been visiting India’s northern provinces since the early 70’s, and although the numbers have only ever been a trickle, there has been enough interest to justify several ski resorts and one of the world's great heli ski operations. But the obvious enormity of the Himalayas combined with the daunting inaccessibility only heightens the attraction for one of the most determined of them all, the ski tourer.

About the Author

C.R.Spooner was born in Australia and began skiing in his mid- teenage years in the local snowy mountains. He has since travelled the globe in search of great skiing, from Canada, USA, New Zealand, Bolivia, Austria, France, Argentina and of course, India. After years spent skiing, surfing and working in outdoor gear stores, he now owns and operates Alpine Touring Publishing from his home in Rossland, B.C.. 'Ski Touring India's Kullu Valley' is his first book.

I came to this bizarre part of the world in mid March of 1996, filled with stories of wildness and depravation, and an unquenchable thirst for big mountains and adventure. I was so mentally and physically hardened from a season of shivering and skiing in Wyoming, which include camping every night of the last month alone in a frigid snow-cave, that I felt that I could run up mountains. Brigitte, a Kiwi friend met me in Delhi, and after briefly viewing the sites built by the Moguls, we boarded a bus that would deposit us 18 hours later in a town called Manali, our anticipated base for the next 2 months.

Springtime was well in force in the Kullu Valley where temperatures in the valley towns hovered around an indolent 20C. The streets of Manali were congested with local Hindus, western feral pot-fiends and Israeli motorbike posers. The air on main street was like a thick broth where greasy bubbles mixed gleefully with exhaust fumes and brackish odors from dhaba stalls. It was enough for us to quickly gather five days worth of food and fuel, load ski and overnight equipment onto packs the size of fridges and begin our foray into the unknown.

The challenge of the ski touring in the Himalayas was not in the steepness or the cold. Instead, it came from the endless battle with the mind, where vigilant convincing must win over exhaustion and pain, where every part of your body is screaming to quit, but you know you have to reach that ridgeline or that gully if you wanted to have a decent rest. At 4000m above sea level, air was noticeably thinner and the sun was like a furnace, making every movement laboured and deliberate. At night, when you would think that sleep would come easily, the deafening sounds of rock and icefall would keep you awake, or icy winds straight from Tibet would attempt to tear you off the mountain and deposit you in the neighbouring valley. Skiing slopes so incredibly enormous that they required days to climb, chutes that seemingly went on forever, and alpine bowls that had me frothing at the mouth, were stacked in every direction to the horizon. To explore this terrain would require the utmost dedication and motivation, or at least an unlimited use of a helicopter.

Starting from a $4 per night hotel room in a quiet village called Solang, we made several ascents of nearby peaks that offered skiing descents of over 2000 vertical meters in delicious spring corn. At times it was possible to ski perfectly steep slopes through forests of pine, cedar, rhododendron and oak that housed langur monkeys. As we began ticking off accomplished points on our map, it became immediately apparent that height meant everything. The further we rose into the heavens the more panorama was revealed, and with each metre gained in elevation a new mountain or valley system was revealed. Objectives metamorphosed into psychotic contests against our hapless altimeter, where personal altitude records were broken daily. It simply wasn’t enough to wander aimlessly in this ski touring mecca, we had to reach that indefinable point where oxygen was at a rare premium, where the only sounds were that of a heart-beat, and life became so special and sublime that we felt like the only human beings alive. Oh! to be back in the Kullu.

Springtime in the Indian

alpine touring

ski touring India's Kullu Valley

alpine touring