Hiking Trip

from Thandiani
to Birangali

23rd August 2013

By
Shaikh Muhammad Ali

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While I usually hike around the Margalla Hills in Islamabad, I have realized that
our 4 to 6 hour-long hikes arent physically challenging, but everyone would agree
that walking and talking helps to jumpstart the creative process. I think that the
moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.

In many classic stories, a protagonist in question goes on a journey and returns

home changed by wisdom gained on the journey. Hiking is a nice reminder of this.
It allows us to leave our familiar surroundings, if only for a few hours, and come
back to where we started, changed by the experience.

Hiking writing is perhaps the single most enjoyable activity Ive ever engaged in,
at least as far as professional activities go. While the hiking part is obvious, the
creative process inherent in taking an experience and turning it into a trail write-
up contains a number of different components that are all very engaging and
enjoyable to me.

For me, a hiking write-up starts with an idea. Once Ive selected a hike, I begin
the preliminary research. I use the internet to get information on the hike I plan
to take.

Photographs are also essential, and I often take copious numbers of pictures on a
hike. Through pictures, I can capture the spectrum of physical highlights to
present a visual representation. I can photograph plants I dont know for
identification later. I can take a picture of trail information so that I dont have to
waste time writing it down. I also quite enjoy photography, and it is as important
a form of self-expression as writing. I dont just want to take documentary
pictures showing junctions or vistas. I want my pictures to have at least some
visual impact and aesthetic value.

As I hike, I am constantly making mental note of everything that is happening

around me. I am constantly watching the surrounding environment, taking note
of the plants Im seeing, the composition of the rocks, noting which landmarks
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are visible, paying attention to how I feel in my body. Much of this is a passive
background mental activity that happens automatically without much conscious
effort.

Before sitting down to write, I take the extra step of making sure that I organize
everything into a place that I can easily find again. I have about 1,000+ photo
galleries and a lot of hiking related information in my laptop. Without
organization, I would never find anything.

Now, Im ready to write. I begin this process by spending a lot of time doing
everything other than writing. First of all I would always start writing after
offering my Fajr prayers. I go on Facebook. I chit-chat with my kids (if they are
up), I offer my prayers sometimes read a few pages of the book that I would be
currently reading. I get a little rascally sometimes and may pester my wife too for
breakfast. I go back on Facebook. I try to write while checking my personal e-
mail account and may even respond to a few of them, and then I remember how
abysmal I am at splitting my focus. Then, I finally tell myself to get my act
together and get something done. Usually, starting is the most difficult part, as I
want to find the right way to set up the story Im about to tell.

The text that follows comes out in any number of ways. I rarely ever outline
anything. Mostly, my thoughts just flow out through the keyboard and across the
screen. It depends upon the Aamad (the coming), the inspiration that I receive
from God almighty. Yes. He talks to me when I write and write I thus. I do a
surprisingly scant amount of revision, except for that troublesome first
paragraph. Most of the time, Im trying to hack my unwieldly sentences into more
digestible components. I have a bad habit of stringing clauses and phrases into
linguistic freight trains.

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I try very hard to avoid referring to myself (I took a right at this junction and
encountered a tiger swallowtail before realizing that I had been holding my
bladder for the last half hour). I try to write things universally.

I try my best to make sure that the prose is clear and precise, but also that Im
using engaging language. I try to avoid difficult words since my audience is
varied from local to international readers too who are stretched between Pakistan
in the here, Philippines & Australia in the East and all the way up to California in
the west. I always try to impart information that deepens the experience while
also trying to make it readable. It is always an interesting challenge to describe 10
kilometers of trail in 600 words.

Once I start writing about the hike, the trail, the ecology, etc., it tends to come out
in a hurry as if I am relating a story. I usually write everything up in one shot and
then go back through my data to get segment distances or to look up things I
didnt know. Since many of my ardent readers come from the Far East or the Far
West, I would always hyperlink and connect the proper nouns to Wikipedia so
that my audience can branch out and read about the place if they so desire. This
is how I educate my reader about the beautiful and hospitable land that I live in
called Pakistan.

The tone of the write-up depends on what Im writing for and what my mood is.
Print is generally a lot more formal, and theres a lot more fine tuning. I also tend
to be a lot stricter with words (50-75 words per kilometer of the hike), largely
because Im always trying to fit the text within a targeted word or page count.

Usually when I travel or go hiking, I take notes but this time around when we went
for one of the most difficult hikes in my hiking career in Pakistan; I somehow did
not take notes and strangely I dont even remember as to why did this happen.

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I had heard a lot of stories about two difficult hikes in the Galyat or commonly
known as the foothills of the Himalayas from my hiker buddies and was always
intrigued to go for them both. The first being the Thandiani (Galyat) to Birangali
hike and the other one from Lora (close to Murree) to Shadra (in the Margalla
hills) hike. The former being a rough 18 kms walk while the latter around 26
kms which is mostly descent.

Usually, the hiking season in the Margalla Hills start from September & lasts till
April since between May to August; the weather gets hotter especially in the day
times and one tends to tire fast due to the scorching heat and dehydrate easily.
Once this hiking season ends in the Margallas then we go hiking up north i.e. in
the Murree Hills which are comfortable during the May to September season
while it could get reasonably cold between October to March due to the hills
rising from 6,000 to 8,000 feet and beyond.

Come August 2013 and we decided to attempt the Thandiani Birangali Trek. I
asked a few hiker buddies about tips and directions and wanted to invite a soul or
two who had done this hike but unfortunately they were busy and thus we
decided to go do it on our own.

I arranged for an HEC Toyota Hiace from the office on the late afternoon of
23.08.2013 and we leave for Thandiani around 4:30 p.m. from the HEC, H-8
campus. I was leading a team of 8 hikers out of the 30 odd souls who have been
doing this off and on with me since 2008 or so.

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 (Google map of Thandiani to Birangali)

We pass through Haripur somewhere around 6:30 p.m. and the boys wanted to
stop for Maghrib prayers and a quick snack too. Our driver Bakshair took us to a
peculiar yet famous shop which sold Pakora and we were ourselves surprised to
catch the caption of the shop. Yes, the owner Saleem was selling Turkish pakoray.
I wonder if they have pakoray in Turkey in the first place but hell yes they were
delicious though and we ate to our hearts content.

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(L-R: Azeem, Sajid, Dr. Shahid, Rizwan and Adil posing with the owner of Turkish
Pakoray)

I actually had a rather hard time convincing my mates to get on the vehicle and
having pakoras was not the end of the world; although personally I wanted to
stay longer too but dont go around bragging about this one or else I would get it
from them. Laughter

(Azeem regretting as to why he did not carry his US passport)

We briskly were on the road again and lest I forget I must tell you that I was
myself riding in the van and it has been ages since I tried doing this since I have
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this terrible love-hate relationship with motion sickness. I can drive my way all
the way up to the Everest but I just cannot ride while somebody else drives me up
there. I throw up and make the lives of my fellow riders miserable in doing so but
surprisingly my doctor prescribed me a wonder drug called Pelton-V which I
took about half hour before we hit the mountains and I tell you it does wonders.

Even with Pakora in my tummy, I was fresh as ever and since then I have been
carrying this drug around when I am close to the mountains and not driving. We
reached our destination i.e. Thandiani in pitch darkness where I had booking
done through the Forest department for two rooms. While we reached the place,
Dr. Fahim Hashmi knew someone at the Microwave radar station and he offered
us a room here too.

Four of the teammates decided to park their bags here while five of us continued
with the local guide in torchlight to our ultimate destination which was the forest
guest house on top of the local hill. We somehow managed to get to the place
while thanking the guide without whom we would have been groping in the dark
all night long.

In the meager light we somehow managed to reach the two bedrooms that were
allotted to us and we parked our bag packs there, refreshed ourselves and headed
for the dining room. We came to learn that if we would pay extra, the caretaker
would fire up the generator and we could have electicity too. Since I was
managing the budget and with the consent of the other hikers; we decided to
have light. What a blessing to have electricity; I tell you.

In this shimmering light we took pictures and our dinner too and enjoyed the
gup-shup at the foodies.

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 (Waqar Hashmi & Dr. Shahid Hussain)

(L-R: the author, Dr. Fahim Hashmi & Dr. Shahid Hussain)

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 (L-R: Bakshair, our driver, Sajjad Baloch and Dr. Fahim Hashmi)

After having the dinner and a light chit chat, some of us offered our Isha prayers
while doing wudu with chillingly cold water which was rather scarce too and
retired. Adil (my older son) and I was sharing the room and like always; I just
could not sleep in a new bed, a new place and became a zombie.

I dont remember when I slept; if I did in the first place but my cell phone alarm
along with the local Muezzin were crying out loud in the wee hours of the
morning both pushing me to say my Fajr prayers. Satan; that rascal was
convincing me to keep myself in the warm bed and canvassing his way through
the fact that there was no point in saying my prayers in the woods, on top of this
lonely mountain and maybe God not watching.

Jokes aside, I pulled myself out from the bed with much difficulty too and I was
somehow able to kick Satan in the behind and did wudu too, much against my
wishes (to be honest) and then blew the trumpet of Israfil and all my fellow
hikers hated me for that since it was obnoxiously early and way too cold to leave
the bed and go for hiking. By the way, you must be crazy in the head to be a hiker
and all thirty or so odd hikers that I claim to represent as their self-appointed
President, are indeed crazy in the head and love it too
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 (The entrance of our guest house @ Thandiani)

Adil got up after I did and we both went around checking our surroundings.
Although, in the night it was pitch black when we got there but now the world
opened itself to us and what a beautiful place we were at. And thus I realized the
power of the sun, the Noor, the light which encompassed us from all sides and we
were able to appreciate the beauty of the place that we were at that moment in
time.

(All rights reserved No trespassing)

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My team mates woke up one after the other and came out in the cold and
simultaneously took their bearings. Although it was late August but since we
were at an altitude of 8,000+, thus the weather was as cold as it could get.

(L-R: Hassan, Adil, Dr. Shahid & the author)

(L-R: Adil, the author, Sajid, Hassan, Waqar & Azeem)

Once everybody was up in my team, the other team of four led by Dr. Fahim
Hashmi reached the guest house and we all ordered our breakfast.

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 (L-R: Rizwan, the author & Adil)

In the mountains, two things happen. U tend to wake up early and once you wake
up then there is nothing better in life to do then to eat, eat and eat. And we
subscribed to this thought while enjoying our bread, butter and omelets as soon
as the breakfast arrived. We gulped it down with a lavish hot cup of tea and now
we were ready to start our hike.

(Breakfast at the mountain top)

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 (The lovely forest guest house at my back)

After breakfast, we got ready and started moving towards our vehicle which was
parked close to the PTV and the Microwave Radar stations and was a 15-20
minutes hilly walk from where we had stayed for the night.

(On the way to our vehicle)

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 (Unfortunately due to sensitive installations, foreigners are not allowed in
Thandiani)

(The PTV board @ Thandiani, Abbottabad)

Due to the significant height of Thandiani, there is a re-broadcasting TV station

here which throws a beam uptil Kashmir and thus PTV, the national television is
watched there.

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 (This was the entire group which I was leading from Thandiani to Birangali)

(The powerful antennas of the Microwave and Radio wave stations @ Thandiani)

This was about time that we checked the path to the hike and much to our
surprise, nobody could guide us as to where the trek started from. All kinds of
advises were coming from the people who were posted at the installations.
Luckily, one of the locals heard our chatter and he informed us that we should
descend through our van and while asking directions on the way, we could find
the mouth of the trek which we surely did.

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 (At the start of the hike)

Getting up, having breakfast and reaching the above spot almost took us an hour
and a half. We started the hike around 7:30 a.m. and started to descend the
mountain. It seemed that there was a jeep able track on the road which seem to
have been abandoned some years back after an earthquake which were pretty
common in these mountains of Abbottabad.

(The jeep trek down the hill)

As soon as we started to hike, the mood and the color of the mountains started
changing with beautiful landscape all around us.
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 (Rocky Mountain high, Colorado)

(Nature in its full glory)

Very soon in the trek, we reached a small spring coming out of the rocky stones
and filled our water bottles. It is very common to find such springs which ooze
out of the small rock formations and the water is fresh and full of minerals.

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 (A fresh spring oozing out of the stony brooks)

(Dr. Shahid leading this group of five)

As usual four of the hikers took the lead and went further ahead while the five of
us were trailing at our own pace. The good aspect of hiking in a group is that
hikers fall in small groups and hike at their own pace, some fast, and some
medium while the rest tend to enjoy the scenery more and walk at their own slow
pace while mostly taking pictures, chatting and discussing life in general. This
group of nine was not exception and thus followed suit.
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 (L-R: Adil, Dr. Shahid, the author & Hassan)

Since it was a long hike thus we were in no hurry to reach the destination and
thus our pace was comparatively medium while taking in the freshness and the
purity of oxygen and the natural surroundings. We thus walked and walked and
walked.

(A thing of beauty is a joy forever)

Finally most of us wanted to have a break and much to our surprise and
astonishment, Hassan declared if we wanted to have tea to which we all jumped

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and thus we stopped and brought out our picnics and canteens while Hassan
prepared a hot cup of tea for us.

(Our propane burner and the tea utensil)

(Now this is called Jungle mein Mungal)

Incidentally, Dr. Fahim Hashmi went upfront a while ago and could not be
reached on his Cell phone for the tea break that the rest of the group was
enjoying in the above scene. We stopped here for almost 15-20 minutes and
thoroughly enjoyed the tea and the small talk that we had.

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Somehow we were later able to touch base with Dr. Hashmi and asked him to
wait at the spot where he was and after 15 minutes or so we were able to reach
him and compared notes. This was the point that we were somehow losing track
of our bearings and started to go astray. Some of the hikers suggested that we go
back but by general consensus it was decided that we will push ahead and
continue to descend on the path that we had chosen.

(One of the beautiful clicks which Dr. Hashmi caught on his camera)

(This was the much talked about Birangali)

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Once we reached Birangali, we realized that there was nothing special to write
home about. This was a simple village cozily tucked away in the mountains. No
less. No more. Here we checked our bearings again and came to learn through
the locals, who did not seem to be too friendly after seeing nine intruders in their
private space; that either we go around the village which was presumably the
longer route or crisscross through the village enroute a steeper path.

And we all decided to cut through the village and descend and leave the village as
soon as we could. And thus we were coming down with a hop, skip and jump.
The sun was getting harsher more by the hour and we had to take a water break.

(The wanderers taking a break)

As soon as we took our break, some of the hikers felt dehydrated since we had
already walked for some good eighteen kilometers and we needed some rest but
the sun had other plans and due to the scorching heat, we could only stay here
for ten minutes or so and had to run for cover.

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 (Azeem and Rizwan taking a heat massage)

(The Sun with its full glow)

After catching a breath at this spot, we moved onwards. This time we decided to
cross through the village and the local households. The architecture of the houses
were extremely old but beautiful. With caution we took a few pictures and
continued to march forward down the hill so to say.

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 (We are passing through local households here)

We passed through standing crops of corn and it was a pleasant site to see them
grow in steppe plantation. This was the first time that I had seen steppe
plantations which reminded me of the Banaue Rice Terraces in the Ifugao
province of the Philippines which are considered to be approximately 2,000 year
old.

It was around lunch time at 2:00 or so that we stopped to have lunch. Lunch was
of course not a regular lunch but the hikers lunch which comprised of juices,
water, dates, biscuits, sandwiches and some Naan bought last night for the hiking
trip. We enjoyed the cool breeze and drank from the reservoir nearby which had
fresh water. Some of us took off our socks and shoes and relaxed while washing
our hands, feet and faces.

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 (L-R: Waqar, Dr. Shahid, Dr. Hashmi, the author & Rizwan)

After this short break, we got up and left moving downwards and ultimately
reached a valley; knowing the fact that we were thoroughly lost. Luckily we saw a
small array of houses along a river bank and stopped for directions. An owner of
a Suzuki carry van overheard us that we wanted to get to the starting point of our
trip in Abbottabad and he offered his services to take us there.

We never had the experience of riding a Suzuki van with 10 people shoved inside
as chickens but we realized the power of this small vehicle which took us up
another hill and brought us to the road which leads from Abbottabad to
Thandiani. We thanked the driver and stopped for a tea and Pakora break at one
of the make shift dhaba on the roadside near a place called Kala pani.

After refreshing ourselves with a hot cup of tea and drinks along with our Suzuki
van driver and a new found friend, we continued our journey in the same van
and asked the driver to drop us at a convenience location where Bakshair was
ultimately able to pick us. Bakshair was also a little apprehensive about our
whereabouts since our cell phones had stopped working and we were totally
incommunicado with the wired world.

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After having walked for some 26 kilometers, we finally saw Bakshair pulling his
Hiace round the corner, offered our Asr prayers at the roadside mosque and
retreated thus completing our longest hike to date.

While I write this article today, disturbing news is coming from the Abdul Wali
Khan University, Mardan (AWKUM) whereby a student named Mashal Khan has
been brutally murdered two days ago in the name of Blasphemy.

The Blasphemy act in Pakistan is a Damocles sword that can conveniently be

used to silence anyone professing views that question or contradict the state-
approved narrative. And if innocents must die in the process, then so be it.

However, while the law should take its course in punishing those guilty of
Mashal Khans murder, voices of sanity must speak up in the face of such cynical
manipulation of religious sentiment.

My head hangs in shame while I finish writing this article. This bestiality must
stop and it must stop NOW.

Shaikh Muhammad Ali

The Wandering Dervish
E-mail: dushkashaikh@gmail.com
Cell: +00-92-321-5072996
Saturday, 18 Rajab 1438 Hijri, 1438 H
15th April, 2017, 12:00 p.m. (PST)

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