Shopian (Kashmir): As an amateur mountaineer, I had a vague idea of high-altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) or cerebral edema (HACE), two acute forms of mountain sickness which affect trekking and skiing enthusiasts, and alpine climbers from lowlands who rapidly ascend to 2000 metres and above.
But on a rainy, dark and cold morning in August this year, I was stranded with a group of friends and fellow mountain admirers at 3,500 metres around the pastures of Jadimarg in Pir Panjal region of Jammu and Kashmir with our friend (we later came to know he was suffering from both HAPE and HACE) dying in our arms.
We were a group of eight members on a three-day hike to the largest cluster of about two dozen alpine lakes, some approaching 4,200 meters, which are set like precious jewels in a necklace of rough and challenging but spectacular mountains in the heights of south Kashmir’s Hirpora wildlife sanctuary.
Our plan was to start from Dongimarg in Shopian and proceed up along the Jadi Nallah rivulet to the Handu valley, a vast, undulating meadow and the summer residence of a dozen or so families of Rajouri mountain dwellers who spend four to five months here grazing their herds of goats, sheep and buffalo.
Our plan was to set up a base in Handu valley.
But the 1,200+ meter rapid climb to the Handu Valley from Dongimarg in a single day can be hard on some human bodies which is perfectly normal. Sadly, I couldn’t join the group on the first day. Next day, I discovered our base in Jadimarg, some six kilometers behind Handu valley.
This was the first setback.
Our cook was deep asleep in the kitchen tent. Rashid, Salman, Owais, Abrar and Riyaz were away exploring Bhag Sar, Kashmir’s third largest alpine lake, along with Handu Sar, Sona Sar, Kada Sar, Lakhsukh Sar and few other surrounding tarns.
When they returned, I learnt that Rashid had not adapted well to life at high altitude. He was fatigued with a headache and dry intermittent cough. At night, his appetite disappeared, despite a mountain goat on the table.
On the next day, we woke up to a clear sky holding immense possibilities. After packing our bags and eating breakfast, we split into two groups of four and five members each. One would head east towards the Girjan Valley with its magnificent Reevawali meadow and Belamarg, in the vicinity of which are Katori Sar, Kaldachni Sar, Gum Sar, Neel Sar, Kukad Sar and other alpine lakes and water bodies not exceeding 3,500 metres.
Rashid insisted on taking up the more difficult trail with the group I was leading along with Riyaz and Shakir. From Jadimarg, we traversed a belt of rockfall-prone mountains, partly covered by glaciers, towards the challenging Lakhsukh Sar pass, skirting the sparkling Chandan Sar along the way, to enter the Handu valley.
As we crossed the Lakhsukh Sar pass, a range of jagged, lifeless mountains, also home to the world’s largest mountain goat Markhor, stood before us in all their majesty.
Our destination was Tikyar Sar, arguably the most beautiful lake in the set of Hirpora lakes. The oval-shaped tarn is hidden behind a wall of towering, jagged peaks in the Baliyan Valley nestled at the far end of the Handu valley. As the altitude clocked 4,200 metres, we could see ominous signs and hear the pattering sounds of rockfall along the trail.
Rashid was struggling to keep pace. Being the more experienced among the four, I asked Riyaz to drop the idea of Tikyar Sar and wait for Rashid, who was about an hour behind us but still in sight. We chose a place for our rendezvous. Shakir and I proceeded to Tikyar Sar.
To our horror when we returned, the duo was missing. Shakir and I decided to ascend to Kada Sar with the hope of stumbling into Rashid or Riyaz along the trail but only disappointment waited for us. A quick traverse on a small but difficult range of mountains brought us to Bhag Sar, Barani Sar, Sanaan Sar, Sona Sar and finally Handu valley.
After a 30-km traverse on boulder rocks, scree, slippery glaciers and high gradient mountain slopes, we returned late to the base at Jadimarg at 11.30 pm.
Rashid and Riyaz were still missing. We spent an anguished night huddled inside our tents, chalking out a plan for the rescue. At the crack of dawn, a team made the ascent to the Handu valley again and, after an arduous day on one of Kashmir’s most challenging trails, the team returned with Rashid and Riyaz just before sunset.
Riyaz narrated that Rashid had insisted on continuing to Tikyar Sar which, as I had feared, proved to be a terrible decision. By the time the stunning presence of Tiykar Sar enraptured their visual senses, the sun was beginning to set and the two had lost a lot of time. They would soon lose their way too.
As darkness enveloped the Hirpora sanctuary, Rashid and Riyaz were still 15 km from the base, roaming around Kada Sar, with no water or food and without any knowledge of the terrain. At first, the fear of the unknown planted the idea of fashioning a temporary night shelter in their minds. But it was dismissed as impractical, given the huge size of boulder rocks. Without a map, the two decided that it was better to continue walking with the hope that they could run into one of the few human habitations in the area.
But there was no end in sight to their agony. The two lost their way but they had not lost their determination to continue, which made them wander around a chain of bare mountains holding a cluster of a dozen alpine lakes in their bosom. To defeat the pangs of thirst, they fed on dirty glacial ice. Fearing that they were not going to survive, Rashid even recorded his last video message!
At around 3 in the morning, they could hear the faint voices of a shepherd’s dog which led them to a tribal dwelling.
Rashid was conscious when our team got him back to the base. He had a severe headache and a high-grade fever but he insisted that it was general tiredness and wished to sleep. His speech was slurred and soon enough he lost consciousness. Then, intermittent spells of hallucinations took over which made some of us with a penchant for myth-making to speculate that he was consumed by demons after losing way in the girdle of alpine lakes.
In the popular Kashmiri imagination, some unknown supernatural powers inhabit all the lakes, rivers and especially freshwater springs who target innocent humans. Some historians write that it was a myth circulated by Kashmir’s Hindu inhabitants against the littering of water bodies that they consider sacred.
For more than 15 hours, Rashid put up a brave fight. His breathing produced gurgling sounds and his mouth was spitting froth. Sometimes, the scary bouts of hallucinations awakened the prosecutor in him. At another time, it was a husband-wife conversation. His fever was showing no signs of subsiding. He was breathing with difficulty. He was fit to die.
On the morning of our expedition’s final day, it started raining furiously. Evacuating the nearly lifeless body of Rashid seemed a difficult proposition but it weighed heavily against the odds of wasting time in waiting for the rain to subside which could prove lethal.
A stretcher was fashioned out of wooden poles and nylon ropes with the help of the Bakarwal tribal people who, after charging a hefty fee, shouldered Rashid on a gruelling two hour hike to Nanga Pahad amid a heavy downpour and four more hours of descent along the vast and soul-rejuvenating meadows of Namnad to the Mughal Road.
Rashid was hauled into my car, which we had managed to summon, and driven to Shopian district hospital. After explaining Rashid’s condition, the doctors discovered that his oxygen saturation had dropped to 30. But he still had some life in him. Rashid was stabilised with a shot of hydrocortisone, dexamethasone and antibiotics backed by respiratory support. Then, he was referred to the super-speciality SKIMS hospital in Srinagar where he remained in the Intensive Care Unit for five days.
Dr Sonaullah Shah, a senior pulmonologist who heads the Internal Medicine at SKIMS, said that Rashid was suffering from both HAPE and HACE which was confirmed by CT scans. It is then that we got to know about the severity of Rashid’s illness. Dr Shah said the diseases progress quickly to coma and death if left untreated.
“Rapid descent and timely medical attention, including supplemental oxygen and dexamethasone are vital for treating such cases,” he said.
Rashid survived to tell his story but there are many more in Kashmir who don’t, often due to the negligence of commercial operators which take gullible adventure enthusiasts on uncertain and difficult mountain expeditions without knowledge or expertise to handle such cases.
One such incident took place earlier this month on the Kashmir Great Lakes trail where a HAPE victim passed away, and the organiser and the insurance provider, like greedy criminals, watched him die while doing absolutely nothing to evacuate him by citing whiteout and storm, even though weather advisory had already predicted the gloom ahead on that date.
When the HAPE or HACE set in, which primarily happens due to low oxygen levels at high altitude, lack of acclimatisation and rapid ascent, it’s easy to mistake the first warnings of dry, unproductive cough, fatigue, breathing difficulties, slurred speech, disorientation and hallucination for the consequences of a long, hard day of hike or supernatural powers.