On A Solo Road Trip To The Serene Chandratal In Himachal Pradesh

Chandratal Pictures

Marhi Pictures

This was the drive I hadn’t been able to complete on an earlier trip with friends: Delhi-Shimla-Sangla-Kalpa-Poo-Tabo-Kaza-Chandratal-Manali-Delhi—or the other way around. We had made it as far as Kalpa from the Shimla side before age and work compelled us to turn back. Yet, I still wanted to finish it. So, on a pleasantly long weekend, when it turned out that my usual expedition buddies were otherwise preoccupied, I asked myself: Why not go alone? I was thrilled, even if most people I told weren’t. Nevertheless, alone and at last, I embarked on the trip of a lifetime. I left Delhi for Swarghat amidst crawling mid-afternoon traffic, speeding past Patiala Chowk, Banur, and Kharar until rains and deep darkness slowed me down beyond Ropar. It was 10 PM on that stormy night when I finally reached Swarghat, reputedly home to "many hotels." I stopped at one such establishment, which appeared to be only 30 per cent complete, and asked for a room. The door wouldn’t open, and a boy brought me sheets riddled with holes. No way. That protest forced me to drive another 90 minutes, covering just eight kilometres in torrential rain and near-zero visibility on a winding road. Adding to the ordeal, my phone refused to connect, leaving me unable to make calls. It was utterly terrifying. The next wayside hotel turned out to be no better, but by then, I was in no state to object. It took two large swigs of rum and a hot dinner of chicken curry with tawa rotis to finally calm my frazzled nerves.

A massive traffic jam caused by the previous night’s rains and landslides delayed my journey, allowing me to reach only as far as Mandi the next day. However, the following morning’s drive from Mandi to Manali was breathtaking, especially the stretch of highway beyond Kullu, with the Beas River gurgling along to my right. I arrived in Manali around noon, earlier than expected, and continued onwards to Marhi, a small wayside pit stop located 17 kilometres before Rohtang Pass. Marhi had been without electricity for nearly a month, but as luck would have it, power returned that evening. The owner of the dhaba where I was staying thanked me profusely, joking that I had "brought the light back." After a hearty meal of roti, dal, and sabzi, I unpacked my sleeping bag and settled in for the night, bundled up in my thermals. At an altitude of 11,000 feet, the night was predictably cold, but the stopover proved invaluable in helping me acclimatise to the higher altitude ahead.

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