Welcome to Part 1. Hopefully this is the first part of many escapades in Uttarakhand. This will be short and to the point, as the memories aren’t sharp.  I hope this will inspire you to visit new places.

In February 2019 our little family went for a drive in the mountains. Our daughter was about one-and-a-half years old and cute as a button. We didn’t know what a road trip would be like with her so young, but with all the innocence and naivete of new parents, we got out the car seat, packed extra snacks, clothes, plastic bags and blithely set out.

Our first day was that famous drive from Dehradun to Rishikesh. We’ve driven this stretch a lot, but it never gets old. We listen again to the same story from Anvesh about where he was chased by elephants. We see the same temple that was built to initiate a land grab. Inevitably I get a little woozy on the winding climb to Rishikesh.  Right at the end, Anvesh looks over and says, “Really? You’re getting sick here again?” Once we enter Rishikesh, I am overcome by the view of the Ganga and a deep, peaceful calm settles inside me. We then negotiate Rishikesh traffic to arrive at our guide house. 

The guide house aesthetic: “rugged outdoor”. Right: Our daughter inspects the gear.

The guide house aesthetic could be labeled “rugged outdoor,” as it’s furnished with colorful kayaks stacked along the walls and in the stairwell. Bedrooms are full of rafts and equipment, and the occasional dry bag floating around. There are posters on the wall, fond memories of trips past. There’s also a beautiful wooden table with benches where many good people have shared meals and stories over the years.

The guide house is always a reflection of who is staying there. It’s usually the Expeditions India guides but also any other friends who might be coming through Rishikesh. While the testosterone is thick, the house itself is surprisingly neat and tidy.

Sleeping in the guide house is one step up from camping: foam mats on the floor with sleeping bags, a Maggie noodle dinner, sometimes a campfire in the yard.  There is running water (sometimes hot) and usually electricity, hence the one step up. I love it and the front yard provides a great space for a little one to toddle.

Visiting friends and our favorite dhaba stop

After one night at the guide house, we headed upriver to catch a day of festivities at the Ganga Kayak Festival. We stopped along the way to see a friend and have breakfast at our favorite dhaba. GKF 2019 at Rudraprayag involved lots more friends, including Nima, who started Splash Adventures in Ladakh with our friend Shalabh, many years ago. We cheered on all the participants (especially the women!) and proceeded upriver to Shivanandi River Lodge. 

Ah Shivanandi! Good food, good company, lovely views. Our daughter examined the plants and we enjoyed the atmosphere. (See Part 2 for more details of this special place.)

Next day we climbed up toward Binsar and then to Dinapani. This is where I recall a lot of vomit. Winding mountain roads plus the confinement of a car seat weren’t a good combination. Breakfast came up, snacks came up. We made a lot of stops at the side of the road and used up every plastic bag we could find.  

Driving and chai stops.

Both the climb and the vomit were worth it. Once we reached our destination, Mohan’s Binsar Retreat at Kasar Devi, we settled in. Even being locked in by clouds didn’t matter. The place was clean, welcoming, and due to off-season, very empty. Just hardwood floors and the possibility of making a fire in our room cheered me up. Occasionally the clouds parted and we caught a glimpse of the breathtaking views. We indulged in a rich and creamy North Indian dinner, had a dance party in the empty dining room and went to bed early.

One night at Mohan’s Binsar Retreat

Next day a few snowflakes graced us. Our daughter’s first snow. It didn’t stick but the wonder of it was present for all of us. She didn’t yet refer to it as “Olaf”, as she does now.

We didn’t stop for anything in Kasar Devi itself, not the temple or anything else. I don’t remember exactly why we were in a hurry down. Maybe it felt remote with our toddler. Maybe that red light in the car had already started blinking. I do recall being cold, not adequately equipped, and overall ready to descend. 

Our daughter wasn’t so sure what to make of those leopards in captivity.

On the way down past Binsar toward Almora, we stopped to see two leopards. They were man-eaters, caged in indefinite punishment. If you’ve ever seen one of these cats up close, you know what they feel like. They have a distinct presence to them, powerful and refined. It was also tinged with sadness due to their confinement. It was difficult for me to stand on another side of a fence and stare at them, and yet it was also hard to look away.

We kept driving, down to the plains, with a stop in Kathgodam on the way. A light on our car dashboard had started blinking. Only once we were down did Anvesh casually mention that the brakes appeared to be in trouble. We made it to the repair center and they did what they could so we could continue but said the serious work needed to be done in Dehradun. We continued on to Bazpur, grateful that there were no more winding mountain roads ahead.

Right: Passing time as the mechanics inspected the car.

At Bazpur, we spent two days with dear friends on their farm. From the high mountains to the flat fields of this area, it is a different Uttarakhand.  

You may not know this, but Anvesh has a little bit of farmer in him. He enjoys the occasional round on a tractor, tending to the land. I like to know what’s growing and flowering, what’s in season. Our daughter was in awe of being so close to the cows and got a kick out of the swing set.

Finally we drove back home to Dehradun, but not without a promise that we would undertake another road trip again soon.

Sheer delight at the cows as she flourishes in farm life.