The lovely alp of triund that looms high above McLeodganj has one of the best vantage points in all of the Himalaya. Poised right above the highlands of Kangra and the distant plains of Punjab and looking up at the imposing wall of the Dhauladhar range on the other side, its location is quite unique.

 

It is one of the most popular short treks in Himachal, and Triund’s tragedy stems from this accessibility. Weekenders from the rude plains abound on its slopes, often struggling up the winding forest path, talking loudly on their cellphones, or cursing loudly if they don’t get a signal. Some even try to hail their friends up ahead just to have the pleasure of hearing their voices booming across the gullies. These boors are so used to having the world served to them on a platter, that they take the many garbage collection points on the trail as an affront to their right to litter.

 

Fuming at them silently for many years, I finally chanced upon a strategy. Just before the final steep stretch of two kilometres to the top, I’ve often found stranded fat kids, drinking their cola and munching chips, completely exhausted, and asking how much longer it’ll take. Most helpful Gaddis would tell them that Triund isn’t far. I look worried instead, look at my watch meaningfully and tell them that it’ll take them another three hours, and that it’ll be dark soon. I love the look of crushed despair on their faces, and all is right in my world.

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