The Lonely Planet describes the Druk Path Trek thus: “One of
the most scenic and popular treks in Bhutan, following a wilderness trail past several remote lakes. Although it is a short trek, it still goes to a high altitude making it moderately strenuous.” Apparently, it is even possible to race through the trek from Paro to Thimphu in one day – a corporeal punishment for Bhutanese soldiers in the old days.

Well, mere mortals like us, and specifically hailing from the lowlands of Singapore where our highest ‘peak’ is a modest, ahem, hill called Bukit Timah at 163m, the maximum elevation of Druk Path at 4210m sounded pretty daunting. Having done only day hikes and brief camping trips previously, five days in the wild was an epic expedition, as far as my friend, Jen, and I were concerned. Plus I had to fall ill on arrival in Paro the day before. So desperate

praying and a sense of trepidation rather than keen anticipation filled me as we got off on an early start one 30th March 2003…

Thankfully, there was only one way for visitors to hike in Bhutan,
that is, in style! Because of the controlled nature of trips here and the hefty daily tourist levy, all treks would be pre-approved and typically come equipped with the full works. Still, we were pleasantly surprised by the ‘grand fanfare’ that greeted us at the trailhead just outside the gate of the National Museum at 2470m.

Our friends, Sangay, Sara and Yun, had come to see us off. After a round of hurrah and photo taking, we set off escorted by an impressive entourage of seven fine horses and donkeys and four gallant men! At any rate, it was an excellent team comprising our cool trekking guide, Kencho, in Nike gear and all, the ever reliable and invaluable Dawa, the resourceful cook Kado and the young horseman Pemba.

The trek started with a zigzag gravel road past a few farmhouses. Bhutanese simply loved to be photographed. When stopping for a picture of the scenic Paro valley below, we suddenly realized the adorable children at a distant house were posing even though we were so far away! Over the course of the next few days, it was to dawn on us, amusingly, that our four gallant men never once volunteered to
snap a picture for us two ladies, preferring (presumably) to be
on the other side of the camera lens.

Unfortunately for me, the climb did prove to be “strenuous”. Whether it was the thin air or my illness from the previous day, I started to feel nauseas when we were going up a steep ridge and had to stop frequently to catch my breath. Kencho was most patient and it was a relief when we finally reached a pleasant grass field with purples flowers and an old mani wall (stone wall with Buddhist prayer inscriptions). This was our lunch stop but I had no appetite and ended up giving half my lunch to an eager black dog. Having started off not so well, the rest of the journey did not get any better for me as I climbed and rested ever so often up the endless forest trail and then an open meadow. An eternity later, we reached the top of the pass and saw a dzong (monastery or fortress) perched on a nearby promontory. Kencho then pronounced that the camping ground was ahead down the path. I could kiss him if I hadn’t felt so sick! We had covered more than 1000m of elevation today.

Wilderness did not turn out to be too bad after all, even though
it took a bit of getting used to that we did not have to do anything while the boys set up camp and busied themselves with the chores and cooking. We had our first sighting of a couple of furry yaks nearby before going to snuggle in the fleece rugs in our tent. It was freezing.

But this really was a leisurely (read: pampered) trekking tour. Hot chocolate and cookies served in a cosy warm tent for us to while away the remaining afternoon, before tucking in a sumptuous dinner with an especially yummy tomato soup. Kudos to Kado! The boys then set up a nice bonfire for us to ‘toast’ ourselves under the skies while they had their dinner. We were to be amazed when we discovered later the size of their appetites. They could eat a horse! So it was that we ended a typical trekking day with a pleasant evening before going to bed in our tent home.

Although my first night was a tad unpleasant with a bit of fever added to the nausea and mild diarrhea that I suffered. Suddenly remembered that these were altitude sickness symptoms, oh no!

The second day was decidedly better, chiefly because
my fears of the previous night turned out to be unfounded. I felt better.

The sun was shining when we sat off, first for a visit to the Jili Dzong
at 3570m, the residence of one Ngawang Chhogyel (1465-1540), who was the cousin of the famous saint Lama Drukpa Kunley with
the colourful moniker, the Divine Madman. Hm, wondered what the monk did to deserve “banishment” to such a remote and isolated place. The ancient monastery did cut an imposing sight with its high location and colourful prayer flags rustling in the winds.

After Kencho paid his respects at the lhakhang (temple), we left the dzong and came across a couple of yak herd boys practising archery. This being the national sport that all Bhutanese men are so passionate about, Kencho of course could not resist showing them a couple of tips.

It was a great top-of-the-world feeling to be walking on this high meadow ridge with a grand view of the upper Paro valley and the faraway peaks. I was enjoying the trek at last!

We went into a forest, with steep ups and downs, and a nice traverse round a hill that offered a fine view of Jhomolhari (a sacred Bhutanese mountain) and other mountain peaks on the left. Then it was more forest walk that would have been filled with blooming rhododendrons had we come a month later, sigh. At one point, there was a dramatic opening on the right and we had an inspiring view of beautiful coloured mountains and distant snow-capped ones.

Lunch was after a particularly testing climb up the sheer side of a hill. I was overjoyed to feel my first pangs of hunger. At last my appetite was returning. Several gentle ups and downs later, with icy snow starting to appear on parts of the path making it slippery, I was still mentally prepared to go a long way when we arrived at a large pasture clearing where our camp for the second night was to be set up. Hurray!

It was a wonderful place and we spent the afternoon exploring
the open plains and admiring the vista of mountains which loomed dramatically amidst an atmospheric mix of haze and clouds. We also saw a whitetail deer scuttling away and a number of birds. Not to mention a handful of the by-now-familiar yaks and the friendly
dogs that seem to eat everything.

There was even an old stone enclosure here presumably for taking
the traditional Bhutanese hot-stone bath. No way we were going to try it in the chilly conditions, although we did eventually indulge ourselves at Paro’s Olathang Hotel on our last day in Bhutan.

The bonfire this night was thoroughly enjoyable as we had a starry night for the first time. Kencho was animatedly entertaining the others with some stories but somehow when we asked for translation, the abbreviated English version just didn’t sound as exciting. How we wished we understood Dzongkha, the Bhutan national language derived from Tibetan. The only
phrase I mastered so far was the greeting which I enthusiastically practised with every native I met on the way. I reckoned that I must have got it right since there was a smiling response each time. Either that or they were just being polite. Kuzu zangpo la!

We awoke to the lyrical sounds of … yikes, pelting rain! Or so we thought. So we lazed on, unwilling to venture out to the muddy yonder.

When Jen eventually stole a peek, she shrieked with joy that it was actually white fluff! Yep, heavenly falling snow! Overnight, the brown plains had become draped with a light layer of flurry, making a most lovely oil painting.

Too bad our euphoria – a typical behavioral pattern of Singaporeans when they sight the white stuff – was short-lived. Today was to be our toughest day, according to Kencho in his most solemn tone. As the usual route along the ridge was full of snow, we were to detour down to a river and then go up an extremely steep pass. It all sounded very ominous.

The initial part of the hike was quite beautiful as we descended through the snow-laden woods with the mist lending an ethereal feel, especially when we spotted a couple of colourful wild pheasants and an orange-tail bird. After a long walk, we finally reached the valley bottom and crossed a nice stream with large boulders. Here Kencho let us rest. That is, before we embarked on the “tough part”.

All that Bukit Timah training didn’t help as we huffed and puffed up the precipitous path, first through a forest then large rocks. Towards the end, we were resting like every ten paces! But it was great to stop, for when we turned back and the mist curtain drew occasionally, there was a gaping spectacle of an awesome silver-lined cliff face greeting us. Wow!

At last we dragged ourselves up to the top of the pass and more “Wow!” when we came to a mysterious opal lake. The boys had grabbed some tree branches en route and they started to burn them
as offerings to this evidently sacred lake.

After the whooping joy at the stunning scene, it started to feel really cold up here. I had to keep moving while eating lunch just to avoid going numb. For once, I was glad to start walking again.

We descended down the other side of the pass, making our way across a surreal landscape of swamp and snow clumps. Wonder at the setting, however, turned into sheer frustration as we trekked uphill through thick icy snow. Each step through the knee-high snow was painfully difficult, especially when I wasn’t wearing boots. We hadn’t been forewarned about this but, by my ratings, it certainly was the “toughest part”!

By the time we were through with the snow part, I actually hated
the icy stuff. My toes also started to cramp as we continued to go on a relatively level but endless path. I thought I couldn’t walk again when we finally arrived at the camp. Oh no, it was all snowed in as well, with a closing fog to boot!

Brr.. we stumbled into the tent to hide from the sub-zero temperatures. Now I truly regretted not bringing my thick jacket for this trip. Well, snow wasn’t expected. In fact, Kencho was to remark later that in all his experience, he had never encountered so much snow at this time of the year before. Classic understatement.

The rest of the day was spent huddling and trying to keep warm. We stayed real close to the fire, almost burning our clothes! Early to bed this bitter night.

Extreme temperature makes one sleepy. I had a most wonderfully cosy slumber. By morning, our spirits were restored now that it didn’t feel
so cold.

This time we knew it was snow outside. But what a gorgeous ‘winter wonderland’ that we woke up to. As we were having breakfast, the fog cleared temporarily to reveal a frozen lake just before us. I didn’t realize we were camped right beside it. Well, no trout definitely.

With so much of the white powdery stuff around, it was all I
could do to resist from starting a snowball fight with Jen. I was on a high and the four guys joined in to build a snowman. Cooking pans and utensils got in the act and with all the ‘expert’ help from this motley crew hailing from the (aptly-named) Yeti Tours & Treks, it was no wonder that the snowman, my first, turned out looking like the Abominable Snowman, albeit, a ‘hot’ dude with the Bhutanese favourite, chilli padi, for eyes and lips!

Kencho claimed it would be an easy day today. I think he really meant “easier day” compared to the previous one. The ‘fun’ snow became unfriendly again, as we ploughed slowly uphill, breathlessness and all returning. The normally “20-minute ascent” took forever and the “easy plateau ridge” had arduous ups and downs as well. Guess the fluff factor made it tough and difficult, and for me, unpleasant as well when it got into my shoes.

With so much fog, there was no panoramic view of Bhutan’s peaks when we passed a couple of crests at 4210m, the highest points of the trek. White nothingness apart, we did see another small lake which was, you-guess-it, frozen. Then the snow came to an abrupt end when we reached some prayer flags that mark a sky burial site. The final milestone before descent all the way. We had to imagine that we could see Thimphu though, sigh. But yippee! No more ascents and no more wading through thick snow. It became almost effortless from this point as we skipped down an easy path. There was more vegetation now and at a most steep and remote point, there was a goemba (Buddhist monastery)

perched at the side of a rock face. Apparently this was a meditation centre. They couldn’t have picked a more ulu (Singaporean slang meaning far-flung) spot than this!

At last, we appeared to be reaching civilization. Well, at any rate
there were large buildings, albeit of the monastic variety. These were part of the Phajoding Goemba. Kencho went to enquire and came back with news that we could stay there, instead of camping, as the monks had gone to the warmer Punakha Dzong for the winter and would not be moving back till May.

We should have opted for our tent instead as we found out soon enough why those wise monks were not living here at this time of the

year. Much as the experience of staying in a monastery was pretty quaint and cool, as we could admire the remarkable Bhutanese architecture so closed-up, it was so uncomfortably cold that I was trembling non-stop. It didn’t help that my wet feet, from the snow, appeared to have become frostbitten. When we eventually went to bed in our sleeping bags in a monk’s quarters, we still could not get warm enough without the insulation of our trusty tent. Dawa had our eternal gratefulness when he came to give us hot water bags. After that, we refused to move an inch from our sleeping bags the whole night. Not even when the door creaked open. Not even when a whiney dog came in at one stage and (luckily) went out again. Probably found it too cold too.

After what had to be our coldest night in Bhutan, I woke up to the peculiar sight of middle-east conflict news staring at me. Then I realized the wooden walls were plastered with old issues of Kuensel, the Bhutanese national paper. Hm.. removed but not isolated
from the world.

This foggy morning, we had our last hearty ‘camp meal’ in the kitchen. Huddling beside the stove just wasn’t the same as the bonfire. Must have looked strange too. For once, I was itching to go. If only to get some warmth. There was also a tinge of sadness and regret, this being our final trekking day. As it turned out, it was a very short walk where we went from extreme wintry conditions to hot summer temperatures.

As usual, Kencho led the way down the blue pine forest, passing
by a chorten (memorial for offerings). We finally saw some of the elusive rhododendrons blooming brilliantly in red, yeah!

I was all dressed up in layers and had to start peeling them as we
went. By the time we were out of the woods, the fog had cleared and the sun was burning bright! I had brought sun block for the trek but
it never occurred to me to apply it given the blizzard conditions that we encountered. I almost laughed out loud at the ironic thought that
I was going to get a sunburn.

At long last, real civilization (the monasteries didn’t count)! It was actually some sort of settlement camp that we were passing by, for folks working for some royal place nearby. While Kencho went to make a phone call, we turned photographers for the womenfolk and children.

Finally, we reached the Motithang Youth Centre at 2520m, the end of the trek. It only took all of two hours to come down the mountain. But it felt really weird to be out of the camp mode. There was
almost a sense of loss and disorientation.

Then, Sangay and Yun came in a van to welcome us, with delicious cakes and drinks from his restaurant in Thimphu, Plum’s Café, and filled us in on the ‘juicy news’ that transpired in the last few days. Nothing moved in the Iraq war but a famous Hong Kong pop idol had ended his life and SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) had spread such that Singaporean tourists coming into Bhutan now had to be quarantined for seven days. Phew, lucky us for missing the new ruling. Just.

So that was the end of our eventful but leisurely (compared to the
rest of our whirlwind tour of Bhutan) trek. Whilst Sangay was giving a witty running commentary as we drove down to Thimphu in the warm sunshine, all I could think of was: I could do with a nice bath.
A nice long one..

© Ong Hwee Yen 2004

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