Kareri Lake: Where vultures meditate

Happy hikers but no glacier: R-L Sue, Fiona and I

There’s breakfast making noises around 5 am – always a comfort. But where am I? This isn’t my room in McLeod Ganj. 

That’s because I arrived at the rather splendid Royal Mountain Guest House in the village of Kareri after dark last night with Fiona and Sue; today we are going to hike up and back to fabled glacier-fed Kareri Lake.

We are ready to be up and gone so after eating banana porridge and chai while seated primly on the brocade three-piece suite in my ballroom size room, we do ridiculous stretches in the dawn courtyard then jump into a tiny battered Maruti to bounce up the hill for 15 minutes. Judder past the local school that Fiona and Sue and the Pencil Tree mob support, past a wedding Maruti studded with marigold blossoms and stop at the empty momo carts at the bridge over the rushing mountain river. 

The stone slab path to the lake winds up a river gorge, through woodland, between mossy banks. We are climbing up, reaching up granite steps, always up, always way above the river but always hearing the rushing water heading down over the granite stones. 

All morning we walk upwards, sometimes on a level but always leading onto more steps. Above the trees, the valley opens out and the path twists between huge oblong granite boulders. Massive blocks stand in the middle of the white stream of water.

Scarlet minivet

There is warm sun and cold air. There are vermilion-and-black birds on the rocks and trees. 

We have been walking two hours when I begin to struggle for breath. For another two hours I walk 20 paces, stop and count 20 laboured breaths, try not to stumble or vomit when I get light headed. My old enemy, altitude, is back.

The mackerel-clouded sky is widening out above me as I crawl towards the saddle. Jay the guide turns to me, “Only 5 minutes” he promises.

Once over the ridge I see the long outline of Kareri Lake in the bowl of the mountain. Most of the lake's famed mirror surface is gone, the lake hollow is grassy, the glacier above is a sad strip of woeful grey mottled ice. Climate change.

Fiona and Sue have already walked around the lake rim, heading for the ice remnant. Jay is praying in the windswept once-whitewashed Hindu temple. Some Indian hiking boys are eating Maggi noodles and huddling round a tiny fire in the lee of a rock.

The temple at Kareri Lake

I’m not climbing so my breath has returned, and I hike the circuit of what used to be the lake edge but is now boggy grazing land. Alone at the east end of the lake, I turn away from the sad lake and walk up to the rim to see what the next valley looks like, hoping hungry leopards aren’t hiding in the falling down cow sheds I'm passing.

The grassy rim drops away steeply and as I reach the crest I draw level with the top of a gnarled tree – and the tree is full of vultures. At my eye height, just metres away. 

Stop in my tracks. Hide behind a stone wall. Fumble with my camera. 

Griffin vultures meditate

I take photo after photo as I edge over the rim and closer to the tree top. I sit down on the grass and watch and breathe. There are seven huge birds, their feathers a warm mix of fawn and cream and brown and grey. All about the same size but some are fluffy (fluffy vultures?), a couple are growing into their adult plumage, a couple are magnificently fully feathered. They sit serene and silent, facing in different directions, but all seemingly content and emanating stillness. A meditating family of vultures. 

Eventually I get greedy and try to grab my phone to video them. Reluctant to move but offended by my crassness, all of them them, one by one, drop sideways, and silent as breath, float from the tree and without seeming to have any intent, glide and soar along the valley, away from me. For several minutes, I sit on the rim and watch the sky they disappeared into.

Dazed at my good fortune, I walk back and meet the girls who got to the grotty bit of almost dead glacier. We eat greasy hot parathas and fiery sour lime pickle in a humpy but leave before we start to doze off in the warmth. 

The next couple of hours are knee-joint jarring, hammering down the big stone steps. Fiona jumps a step and sprains her ankle when she lands awkwardly but we fill her up on pain killers and Jay tries to take her weight all the way down.

Almost as soon as Fiona started to to struggle down with our help, out of nowhere a large smooth-haired black female dog arrived and for the next 90 minutes, stayed with Fiona, always walking by her side at her pace, not getting in her way, not interested in the rest of us, just being there like a kind emotional assistant. As soon as we got to the last rest spot before the car park, the dog sat down and let Fiona go on on her own, knowing that her care wasn't needed any more. 

We go straight home in the tiny Maruti, driving through the cold nightworld, dark except for a boiling red sunset. We are warm and pleasantly tired after our big day out, passing a small bottle of scotch between us. Fiona is discombobulated by scotch and painkillers, Sue happy and chatty. And I’ve been meditating with vultures.

Sit and watch the Himalayan griffon vultures with me