Climbing on the Himalaya and Other Mountain RangesCollie, Norman
History
Climbing on the Himalaya and Other Mountain Ranges
Collie, Norman
Himalaya Mountains; Mountaineering
When one has got accustomed to it, however, travelling in these vast
mountain solitudes becomes by no means either irksome or unpleasant.
But before one is capable of understanding all the woodcraft and
knowledge requisite for successfully guiding a party through the
endless forested valleys, the apparent monotony is apt to weary
the traveller; afterwards, however, when a thousand and one things
in the woods or on the mountain-side are for the first time seen
and understood, then the environment no longer dominates one. For
instance, a peculiar notch or 'blaze' on an occasional tree means that
some prospector or Indian has been there before, or perhaps a newly
overturned stone amongst the moss tells how a bear has recently been
searching for food; or, again, some half-obliterated mark by the side
of a stream means cariboo, or, if higher up, goat or the wild sheep.
Then, often by the kind of tree one can roughly guess how high one is,
for certain poplars, for instance the balsam poplar, I have never seen
higher than 5000 feet.
Of course amongst the Canadian Rockies it is necessary on every
expedition to take men and horses. The men are to look after the horses
and the camp, and to cut the trail. The horses carry the food or
'grub-pile,' the tents, etc.
At first one is quite unaccustomed to the leisurely method of
progression, and quite unacquainted with many mysterious things that
afterwards appear obvious. Now that I look back on my first day with
ponies in the Rockies I blush for my incompetence and ignorance.
To begin with, we were late in starting--our men, with most of the
ponies and heavy baggage, had gone up the Bow valley, leaving us three
ponies for the remainder of the luggage. At the very start, if it had
not been for the help of an obliging man at Laggan railway station, I
do not think we should ever have satisfactorily tied on all the odd
packages. To pack an Indian pony, and finish all off neatly with a
good tight diamond hitch, is an accomplishment not possessed by every
one. After three summers' experience I really now can tie it: at
least I know I could, but it is a wonderful hitch; and although you
think that you have got it all right, when you begin to pull the rope
tight, somehow it all comes undone and one must start again from the
beginning.
The ponies having been packed, we started, but soon lost our way
amongst the most dreadful tangle of fallen timber; the men had 'blazed'
the way, but we were new at the work, and so soon got out of the trail.
After getting the ponies with great difficulty through some miles of
this timber, we gradually worked ourselves free, getting into more
open ground, but it was out of Scylla into Charybdis, for now it was a
question of how to get through endless swamps or muskegs that filled
up the floor of the valley. Here the blazes of course stopped, and
soon we missed the tracks of the other horses and got hopelessly lost,
floundering about in every direction trying to find a way through.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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