Bob's Blog

The Little Hobo

The Little Hobo, leading the way through Ballo Ka Ghera on the Hampta Pass trek

A-driftin'. The world is my friend. I'm travelin' along the road without end. —Randy Sparks, The Littlest Hobo

I spent the day traveling through Lahaul, stopping in Keylong – the capital, to get my shoes fixed. Sitting too close to the camp fire had melted all the glue and they were falling apart. Luckily, in India there are shoe repair guys in every town.

I was fortunate to hitch a lift straight to the trailhead at Chatru. The driver had just come from Manali via the newly opened Atal Tunnel, which everyone was rather excited about. Lahaul would no longer be cut off for six months of winter. The Indian PM even came over to cut the ribbon. It cut out the Rohtang La, a mountain pass that I'd twice cycled across. That road was atrocious, though the pass itself, spectacular.

There wasn't much at Chatru, just one small Dhaba, with an elderly Buddhist couple. I wasn't much worried about this pass. It was only 4200 meters and while remote, it was usually frequented by organised hiking groups, taking four days, starting in Manali. I was however, still somewhat anxious about bears, and looking at the trail, I'd be passing a place called Ballo Ka Ghera, or Bear Circle!

I slept rather badly due to the shack owner snoring all night. Woke, or rather stirred at 5am. Had a big bowl of porridge and hit the road at 6am. I crossed the bridge back over the Chandra River (further downstream, the Chenab, and eventually the Indus) and was on the trail. Not long after I began, a golden dog started to follow me. I was glad to have his company through the barren and deserted land.

We hiked steeply alongside a stream for an hour or two until the meadow of Sheagoru, with stunning views of the Deo Tibba and Indrasan mountains ahead. The icy river, which flowed from the Indrasan Glacier, had to be forded and I thought it an opportune moment to leave the dog behind. I didn't want him following me all the way, surely his home was in Lahaul.

So, I scoured up and down the river for the best spot to cross, and said goodbye to the dog. Then, with shoes still on (as the advice was), I waded hip deep into the river and forded across. The dog whimpered across on the other side, seeing it was too deep for him, yet he ran up and down for five minutes and found a better crossing than I did. "I guess you're coming to the pass too then, Little Hobo!"

The dog seemed to know the route well, and he scampered on ahead of me up the steep inclines. We reached the pass at 10am, which was wedged between two mountains, and while not exactly spectacular it was great to have made it. The route down, following the cairns and crossing small glaciers; was beautiful, wild and remote.

We reached Baloo Ka Ghera and I was glad to have the added eyes and protection of the dog. I kept scouting the horizon just in case. The river became a sandy pool, and looking at the mix of tracks left in the sand, I was fairly certain there were the footprints of Baloo.

After napping at a ruined cottage for an hour, I continued down the trail and found a great cave. I slept, nice and warm, for almost 12 hours. I was obviously tired from the lack of sleep the night before. The dog kept watch and slept on a rock just outside.

The next day, shortly after beginning, I came to the meadow of Chika, where I met a big tour group with so much gear; massive tents, toilet-tents even. They had mules carrying all their gear. I told them about the dog. The guide said it was quite normal for them to follow, and they know the trails well. This relieved my guilt somewhat.

We descended further into civilisation, passing more and more people, and eventually to the end of the trail at a dam, with roads leading down to the Kullu Valley and Manali. We reached the bottom of the road, and I was feeling rather sad for the dog. But I had to go. He'd be okay. He was a born hobo. Coming south across the pass to spend the winter in warmer climes. Anyhow, thanks and good luck Little Hobo!