Har Ki Dun Trekking started with a section of paved road. It stuck with me because it gave me the (very incorrect) notion that the remainder of the journey would be identical to the first kilometer. It would not have meant as much if it had been a journey along a paved path the entire way. As I cautiously made my way over the rocks that hurt my soles at night, it was as if they left a mark on my memory. After the first two or three hours, I was out of energy. As a result, I don't remember much of the scenery. Mountains on one side and a steep river valley on the other greeted us everywhere we went.
I informed Sushant that I would not go any farther. Stay in Har Ki Dun in Seema's guest home for the next two days. I didn't give a damn what other people thought or said. It didn't matter to me if others taunted me or pulled my leg because of it. This journey had become too much for me to bear. I had no intention of finishing this hike or going on any others...EVER!
When the boys awoke and came down, their will to keep going grew even greater. Six boys and the guide took on the work of brainwashing me while we sipped warm morning tea on the veranda, according to Amandeep. And, as he subsequently pointed out, it didn't take long. I was fighting with a tough climb on my way to Har Ki Doon in approximately an hour! Har Ki Doon's first couple of hours were particularly delightful. I savored the vista as I walked carefully down the well-trodden path. The mountains loomed large in the distance. They were without a forest cover because it was the dry month. The mountains appeared to be dead, mummified, due to their bareness, which contributed to their majesty. The river that ran through the valley, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. As it made its way past rapids and tiny waterfalls, you could hear it gush, especially if the currents were strong. Unlike the lonely mountains, it was vivacious, sounded youthful and enthusiastic. (This is odd because Himalayan rivers are older than the mountains geologically.)