Riding in the land of Junipers and Rhododendrons

 Riding in  the land of Junipers and Rhododendrons

Riding on Rajjoo in the land of Junipers and Rhododendrons.

In the early evening as my taxi drove into Tangmarg from Srinagar the Alpine forests welcomed me with their sweet fragrance and cool mountain breeze. Onwards towards Gulmarg, the hillsides full of white daisies among the  green grass were a sight to behold. It was as if  a fresh breath of life had filled my city starved  senses. 

As I reached Gulmarg( Gul= flowers, Marg = meadow) the valley opened up to wide meadows brimming with flowers. I felt I was truly in 'heaven on earth'.   Countless blooms in shades of pinks and purples, violets and blues, yellows and whites dotted the lush green countryside. Flowers shaped like cups, some like bells,some like torches, some globular  and others  flat hugging the fresh green grass.  Till where my gaze could reach all I could see, smell and feel was the beauty of the meadows of flowers. Yes, Gulmarg lives up to its name, it's indeed a Meadow of flowers nestled in the northern slopes of the Pir Panjals.

At the Gulmarg golfcourse 

 

In the light of the setting sun we took a walk in the  Gulmarg Golf Course which I thought should be one of the most beautiful golf-courses in the world. It was dotted with picturesque ponds with white, pink and yellow water-lilies. All over the course there  were white daisies with their yellow dancing eyes, yellow buttercups swaying with the breeze, lupins in shades of white, pink, purple,violet and blues, the foxgloves in yellows, white indian lily of the valley elegantly standing tall and  in places wild pink rose climbers climbing up the fence. In between these delicate flowers there  were pink thistles, prickly lime-yellow flowers and sheep's sorrel.  In a couple of places I saw a bush  of  small white fragrant elderflowers arranged in flat clusters. The grass of the course seemed studded with ground hugging daisies, yellow flowers and ubiquitous delicate dandelions. 

Lupins and Dasies.

As we soaked  in the beauty of flowers, the rolling hills and  meadows, I could hear the Himalayan cuckoo and see the citrine wagtails chirping.  The   Siberian stonechat were  hopping from flower to flower and an occasional Ashy Drongo conversing with its mate.  In the golden orange hue of the evening sky, a few Raptors  were seen searching the landscape for an evening shikar. Away from the city sounds the silence of the meadows was a quiet balm to the soul. My heart changed its melody as my lungs filled with the pure mountain air and my senses rejuvenated in every way. 

Citrine Wagtail

Citrine Wagtail

Siberian stonechat

Next morning we decided to do  a long-distance horseback trail ride deeper into the mountainous forests.  Buta-pathri, a quaint "Gujjar Bakarwal" village about 10 km from Gulmarg was our start point.  The road to Buta-pathri wound through majestic pines and firs and breathtaking landscape of glacial moraine was a joy in itself. At the village Buta-pathri Low roof mud houses sloped and merged with the green fields. A few of the houses had been painted in colourful pastel shades and looked so welcoming. We saw the heardsmen walking along with  their flock of sheep and mountain goats.The women going about the daily chores and kids playing around. We saw a teacher with a portable blackboard and a few children sitting around in the most beautiful of schools. We learnt that these families go down to the lower valleys in the winters but  they spend their summer and autumn months in these mountain homes feeding and tending to their cattle. During these months here the government sends mobile schools to each of the tiny villages. 

Altaf our horse man, was waiting along with three horses here. My husband mounted the black horse aptly called Kalu while I mounted  the chestnut- roan Rajjoo. After leaving the rough road and the house sparrows behind we got on to a dirt track. Soon my horse anxiety faded  away as I started to get comfortable on Rajjoo  as I soaked in the overwhelming beauty of the mountains. 

Gradually  the tall trees became sparse and gave way to green bushes with pretty yellow heads and just a bit further shrubs of  junipers and rhododendron could be seen clinging on to the slopes; we were on green and open mountain slopes!!. How pretty it must  be in spring when the rhodos are  in full colourful bloom .The large-billed crows and a few ashy Drongos gave us company while our horses clopped down  the rolling hills, truly a riders paradise!

Further on our trail I heard the sound of a stream, the vegetation once again changed to dense pine forest. Along the stream we could  see ferns and bushes in all shades of green, Sorbaria Tomentosa or Kashmir False Spirea  with it's  tassels of cream flowers and delicate flowers of Kashmir Gentian swaying softly with the breeze. Quite a few  black and orange Indian Tortoiseshell butterflies could be seen seeking nectar  from the flowers while the red colour dragonflies hovered over the moist grass. Seeing the gushing stream we decided to take a  much needed break after more than an hour of riding.

We got off our horses and stretched our legs to  give rest to the never used riding muscles. The horses drank water from the sprinkling stream and enjoyed grazing on the green grass. We too washed our faces and drank the cool water from the stream, sat on the rocks enjoying the song and the spray of the rushing stream.  With the break over we walked a while along with the horses, petting and appreciating their skill and  then mounted them once again as we approached the stream crossing. Wading across the stream on the horseback was another thrilling

experience. Next we climbed up the trail leading to Chor-Khudan, our mysterious destination. The refreshed horses trotted up the  track and down the rolling hills along  the tree line for a while.  We climbed up once again and could finally view the panorama of Chor-khudan - the small Gujjar village in a little valley and rolling meadows dipping into a gushing  riverulet. As if from nowhere, a few children ran around our horses  followed by curious adults  while my husband continued to gallop ahead  on the most inviting meadows.

Tucked so far away from Gulmarg with no connecting road,Chor Khudan is a destination for winter back-country skiing (when the villagers have migrated back down to Baramulla) and rarely sees visitors in summer.

Another break, chit chat with the families while our horseman visited the homes of a couple of acquaintances and we enjoyed the goat milk offered. We then decided to head back. A pink- browed rosefinch, green- backed tits and a few russet sparrows  were seen fliting on the high tree branches. We cantered back to our much loved stream. On the way back we saw the beautiful pair of  white-capped water redstart flying and hopping on the  stones near the stream, we admired the verdant green grass along our trail, as if manicured and tended to perfection.  Little pools of water in the grass with white, yellow and pink flowers sprouting from the grass looked so lively yet soothing to the soul. Truly, the magic  of nature 'the gardener' tending to and creating its own diverse and interdependent ecology with its elements.  Flowers,insects, dragonflies, agmos, birds and butterflies completing their dance of life in perfect sync and sprouting  back to life again and again year after year.   

On reaching the halfway point on the bank of our much  loved Chor Khudan stream we  stopped for some much needed packed lunch. We took off our shoes, dipped our feet  in the cool crystal clear water of the stream while the horses too fed themselves to the green grass where an occasional rock-agmo crept under the rocks. 

We enjoyed our picnic with the music provided by the gushing stream  accompanied by fine instruments of narrow-banded satyr, indian tortoise- shell butterflies,  a large number of cherry-faced hawkmoth dragonflies and song courtesy the blue -whistling thrush. Here we collected and ate a few wild strawberries and  layed down on the grass relaxing and looking up at the clear blue sky, a few cumulus clouds, a raptor or two higher up, not a soul around just nature and us. How calm, how harmonious and how humbling  it felt. The dipping sun reminded us to proceed on our trail back to civilization.