West Sikkim - The Road Less Travelled

A travelogue on Kaluk and Barsey, West Sikkim.

New Year was round the corner and I was wondering how to make it large. Suddenly an idea sprang to my mind. How about having a trip to the far flung corners of Himalaya? I only had 3 days of vacation. So what’s better than Sikkim? It’s been long since I had a sublime view of the Kanchendzonga range. So I put my money on Kaluk. Tucked away at an altitude of 5700 ft, this elfin village boasts of a grand view of the snow peaks, probably one of the best in Sikkim.
Getting up to Kaluk was not a problem at all. After reaching NJP, I took a share jeep till Jorethang - the communication hub of south Sikkim. One can get service jeep to various lesser known destinations of Sikkim from Jorethang. So it didn’t take me long to find out a jeep for Kaluk, and after a very mild bargain, (I am never good at it!) I got myself a seat till Kaluk for a paltry Rs 60!
There are two roads which go to Kaluk. One via Reshi and another one via Soreng. I’ve heard the one through Soreng is more beautiful, but the driver chose the alternative route. My co passengers said, the road through Soreng is in pathetic condition, and unless I have insurance for my back, I must give it a miss. But as I started I found this route is no less beautiful. For the first half an hour we drove along the languid Rangeet river. Then we left Rangeet behind and started our climb uphill. The road was definitely less travelled, and as the car purred along the forested hills, leaving behind the sleepy hamlets, I realized, this is where I wanted to come.
A few more sharp bends later suddenly I saw the entire Kanchendzonga range in front of me. A bit covered in cloud, but still looking majestic as ever. Every other person in the car remained nonchalant even after watching that grand view, but I was excited. It was my first glimpse of Kanchendzonga in years. I became a bit restive to stop in a corner and take some snaps, and luckily I got my opportunity. One of the passengers had to go for a quick road side toilet, so I jumped out of the car and started clicking the snow peaks in frenzy. The driver smiled back – ‘Kaluk se to bahut accha dikhega’ and he was right.
I reached Kaluk bazaar around 2 p.m. It’s a tiny marketplace with hardly 10 shops, a couple of hotels and a small taxi stand. The first thing which caught my attention was the peace that prevailed everywhere. No one seemed to be busy there. No shouting shopkeeper, no heckling hotelier. The only activity I could spot was few kids playing badminton at a leisurely pace. I wished to join them, but was tired, so decided against it. My hotel had a rooftop restaurant at 3rd floor which provides a grand view of the mountains. So after a sumptuous meal, it was time for me to savor the grand vista of the snow peaks from there. I had nothing much to do that day, so sat there, until the setting sun, painted the majestic Kanchendzonga with its golden hue.
It was New Year eve –time for celebration. My hotel manager suggested me to walk down to the village playground to have a look at the local celebration. It was the usual affair of dancing with the tunes of popular Nepali songs. But their hospitality was amazing. They happily accepted me between them, offered ‘Chhang’ – the local beer to me and to all other tourists who had flocked there, and not before performing a bit of twists and turns with them, they let us go. I don’t know whether it was the ‘Chhang’ effect or the result of a tiring day, I had a deep slumber that night.
In spite of all the celebrations, the New Year started on a gloomy note. I wake up early hoping for a breathtaking sunrise, but to my utter disappointment I found Kaluk completely draped in cloud. The visibility was so poor; I couldn’t even see the valley in front of me, let alone the snow peaks. But that’s Himalaya for you. You never know, what’s in store for you in the next hour. I had a plan to go to Pelling, for sightseeing, but on that weather, there was no point going for that. Suddenly I thought what about going to Barsey rhododendron sanctuary? I’ve heard nothing but praise for the thick forest of Barsey. It’s almost 10,000 feet from sea level, and perhaps a change in altitude could bring some luck for me. I was alone, so asked Subrata Da (my hotel manager), if it would be safe for me to trek the 5kms forest road from Hilley to Barsey. He said I don’t need to worry about safety, in Sikkim. So in no time I had my breakfast, and went to the taxi stand. I was still looking for a companion, so asked if any of the drivers would trek with me till Barsey, one of them (later I knew his name was Bishop) agreed. He said one of his friends had never been to Barsey, so if his friend could come with us. I was more than happy with that. So in no time I teamed up with couple of strangers, and set out for Barsey!
This time I got the chance to experience the roller coaster ride till Soreng. The road was pathetic, but the scenery was magical. Just before Soreng, we met with a lovely waterfall. It was certainly a bonus. We stopped for a small tea break at Soreng, and resumed our journey towards Hilley. This route is definitely the least travelled in west Sikkim. We drove through thick dhupi forest, and with the mist around, the silhouette of the giant trees, looked absolutely surreal. The road was so secluded, even the sleepy hamlets seemed a rarity. Within an hour we reached Okhrey- the last village in this route. Okhrey is at an elevation of 8500 feet, and at that altitude, I could feel the chill in the air. I was praying for a bit of sunshine, and I may sound dramatic, suddenly the sky started to clear up. It was once again the clear blue sky of yesterday, and as the clouds disappeared, I could see the Singalila range in the distance. Its wooded slopes were completely covered with fresh snow, giving it a mesmerizing look.
Within next 15 minutes we reached Hilley. If I have to pick one word to best describe Hilley, I will go for ‘tranquil’. Set amidst spectacular settings, a forest check post, couple of staff quarters, and a SSB (Seema Suraksha Bal) chowki (due to Hilley’s proximity with Nepal border), that’s pretty much, describes Hilley. When we reached there, the Jawaans were playing volleyball. Watching at them I wished, if we could have such tensionless border all across the country! We got our permit ready at the check post, crossed the gate, and entered into the wilderness of Barsey rhododendron sanctuary. It was a thick forest of rhododendron, hemlock and bamboo, through which we trudged our way uphill. Bishop said, during April-May, when all the rhododendron trees are in full bloom, the entire forest turns into a riot of color. I tried to conjure up the scene, and I saw a canvas, full of myriad hues.
A strong wind was blowing through the forest, and on that wind the rustle of leaves sounded absolutely surreal. Numerous birds were chirping, but I could hardly spot any on the thick foliage. It was more of a walk, rather than a trek, due to the mild gradient of the route, and within an hour we reached Barsey top. The view from Barsey top was absolutely ethereal. It’s a flat top at 10000ft, with thick rhododendron forest all around, providing a tantalizingly close view of the Himalayan snow peaks. In front of me was Mt Kabru. It was so close that I felt I could whisper in his ears.

I was so awestruck by the stunning beauty of the place that I just sat on a rock, and decided to enjoy nature’s bounty in complete solitude. If ‘tranquil’ was the word for Hilley, Barsey could be best described as ‘Heavenly’! I sat there for more than an hour, inhaling the nature, and then decided to come back. There was a small trekker’s hut at Barsey top, providing basic accommodation. I wished I could spend a night over there, just to experience a magical sunrise.
When we came out of the sanctuary dusk was setting in. We had our late lunch at forest guard L N Sherpa’s house. The menu was basic, but his hospitality made it special. Hilley with all its serenity was looking surreal in the twilight and so were the snow peaks. They were not as close as they were in Barsey, but with the tinge of gold, they looked sublime. Leaving behind Hilley was not easy, but we had to. So we said good bye to Mr. Sherpa, and started our journey back towards Kaluk.

A stunning sunrise was the only thing that kept eluding me on that trip till then. But Sikkim didn’t leave my wish unfulfilled. The next morning I wake up on the wee hours to see the sunrise. It was still dark and the rolling hills and the surrounding foliage was looking at its surreal best. Slowly the sun came out and as soon as the crimson rays fell on the Kanchendzonga range, the magic begun. Slowly the snow peaks turned from pink to orange to gold and then the whole range came out in its dazzling white attire. The Kanchendzonga, Kabru, all were tantalizingly close looking ethereal against a clear blue sky. It was my last day at Sikkim. So probably it was Mother Nature’s parting gift to me.
Not before a ramble around the nooks and corners of Kaluk, I could leave the pristine hills behind me. It was rather a brief sojourn for me in the lap of Himalayas. But the best moments in life must remain short lived. Otherwise we won’t be able to appreciate them! Good bye Kaluk!