Birds Eye View:
A travel of slightly more than 100 km today, as we abondoned the Kumaon region and entered the Garhwal region at Karnaprayag.
Now, when we had talked to locals in Kumaon, I had always felt a subtle sense of competition with Garhwal. Historically, lords and kings of the two regions used to fight like the dickens, of course, particularly during the Moghul times, and an aftertaste must still be lingering. A caretaker in the KMVN at Kausani said he had worked in all sorts of govt guest houses in Uttarakhand, and GMVN was always better maintained. Our guide from yesterday, Deepak (the mountain goat?), was all in favour of Kumaon roads during monsoons. “The soil here has more pakad (grip), you know. Those Garhwali’s keep having landslides.” They spoke highly of Kumaoni cuisine, their healthiness and simplicity, but were pointedly silent about their western counterpart’s kitchen. One of the hotel managers also commented on the nature of tourists: “Here it’s mostly nature tourism. There it’s more religious tourism.” Well, now that we were actually going to spend many days in Garhwal, we will see how it goes.
We left Kausani at 9.00 am and travelled via Baijnath and Gwaldham (no stops there) straight to Karnaprayag, checking in at 3.30 pm, after some local sightseeing.
Karnaprayag is just 2,800 ft high, as expected for a river confluence, so the temperature was also warmer. At 5.00 pm, with rain pouring outside, it is 22 degC, so it is quite comfortable.
Leaving Kausani (9.00 am):
Today Kausani’s sky was worse than ever, peak-viewing wise. Black clouds were scudding overhead and the temperature had dropped a couple of notches. The wind had a sting. The much-promised rain was probably running a day late (we heard in the afternoon that it had hailed in Ranikhet).
We breakfasted with a new gang of Bengalis who had checked in last night, who were on the way to Munsiyari, Binsar, et al. We realised that we were an exception in that we had covered Munsiyari first, by virtue of having come in from the east by road. The profile of all the travellers we were meeting were practically the same - retired, kids out of the house, travelling with close friends. I think the family crowds will start after 15th May, when most of the schools would close. Today was again the ‘odd day breakfast’ - poha and puri-sabji, with eggs of choice. We think they have two set menus for breakfast, which they alternate.
Reaching Karnaprayag (1.45 pm):
A word about the route to Karnaprayag. The route travels for 40 km over the usual pine forests (how casually am I saying that now!) up to Gwaldham, which is the starting point for Nanda Devi yatra, Kuari Pass and Roopkund lake treks.
After Gwaldham, which is at 6,800 ft, the road slowly winds down, that is descends in a winding manner, to lower levels as Karnaprayag comes closer. As you know, Karnaprayag is the confluence of Alakananda and the Pindar river, which, being the molten product of the Pindar glacier, unloads ice-cold green water into the dusky Alakananda. Almost 50 kms before Karnaprayag, the feisty Pindar starts appearing by the roadside, albeit several hundred feet down, and every mile is a photo opportunity. Here the river is flowing on a rocky bed, and the froth on the boulders shine like sunlight on candy floss in the making.
Just before reaching Karnaprayag, we stopped at the side of the road because we could see the sangam like a drone shot - the stately Alakananda flowing down from the north, the faster Pindar hitting it from the east, with the grey and green waters swirling like a summer concoction of cold mint-julep, and the Alakanandara swaying away to the south west, like a village mother carrying away her naughty daughter on her hip. A lovely sight.
Incidentally, in the course of our tour, we plan to cover all the five prayags in Uttarakhand. What are they? What’s Google for, or ChatGPT? Find out.
Visiting Karna temple in Karnaprayag (2.00 pm):
The traffic wardens of Karnaprayag had imposed one-ways in the town, so we had to take a high road (like I usually do, ahem), cross the sangam area and come back again. Near the sangam lies the reason for the city getting its name - a temple devoted to Karna and Krishna. This seemed like an entente between… let’s say the two most unpopular leaders of our times, so how did that come about?
Well, mythology has two stories. One says that it was here that Karna meditated on his father the Sun God, to be awarded the boon of an impregnable armor. Another says, this was the place where Karna was finally buried, after Krishna took away all his good deeds by subterfuge, which allowed Arjun to take the final kill-shot. Either way, people do believe he is worth worshipping, and the temple, which has an excellent view of the sangam as well, was a place worth a dekko.
