Soon it started to get dark so after spending some amazing fun time there we started the descending trek making it back to our homestay in Tosh. We were so tired back then but we planned dinner at the pink floyd cafe (PS The food and ambiance is really good there) because it was probably my the last night with them as they were going to trek Kheerganga and I was going for Grahan which starts from kasol.
Kutla is a small village and isolated from the main crowd. It is very beautiful. I went further up towards a certain Budaban glacier but I could not find it. After I reached a small wooden crossing I turned back because I wanted to get back before dark. I returned in the evening to Tosh and had dinner at a Punjabi cafe.
Day 3On our third day in the valley, we went to visit a small waterfall ahead of Kutla, it was just a 2 kms trek. It is just great to trek in the mountains, we trekked to every place we got a chance to. This day we returned back to Kasol, but if we hadn't done our bookings for the next day, we would have surely loved to camp one more day at Kutla.
7th July :- This was the final day of my trip. I planned to go to Malana but dropped my plan as I heard that it is a place similar to Tosh. The guy I befriended on the previous day told me about kutla, a small village located at top of the hill. There is a 1 hour trek from Tosh to Kutla, so we decided to went there. The trek was easy & beautiful with waterfalls & beautiful landscapes. But the real surprise was the final destination. It is a place where I can spend rest of my life, located at top of the hill with no crowd & beautiful view. We ate our breakfast at a dhaba & asked its owner about near by places to go. He told us to go to other side of the hill. We went there & reached a beautiful valley with view of glaciers from the distance. We met a shepherd family there & they invited us to share food with them. As it was the occasion of Eid, we ate halwa with them & thanked them for their generosity. We decided to head back to Tosh but lost our way. We were scared because there was no one & it was the dense forest. Luckily we found our way back and reached Tosh.
We began at dawn as suggested by the elderly couple who had hiked to Kutla together umpteen times for the pleasure of each other's company.And for a fact, they were not native mountain folk, but a couple from Delhi who had eloped together to spend their lives together, against their parents wishes, in peace. Moved by their story, we bundled up our rucksacks and strode through the grassy path towards the promised land.The trail itself was beautiful, lined with cedar trees engulfed in the vast mountain valley, the bustling sound of the stream and chirping of birds invited us further in, with the smell of the fresh air mixed with scent of pine needles enchanting us.The sun climbed up the horizon, as we trudged on ever-so-precipitous trail. For the first few hours everyone slogged in a single file resembling a convoy. As if the travail of the trail reminded everyone of their hassles, some spoke about the unequitable cost of living in the city, the arduous jaunt of grasping success to make a living, the nugatory intimidation of different societies with its cultures and norms.When the sun was at it highest, it got sultry, and we were running out of water at an alarming rate. Every step was a severe struggle. Half of the company were in half-minds of going back. Every now and then a discourse would break out to decide the wise plan of action. I would lean on a tree, under its shadow to catch my breath. My muscles locking up due to strain and dehydration. To conserve water we took mere swigs and breathe through it to keep our windpipes and air-cavities moist. Nevertheless, we toiled on. It seemed that this trek was not meant for us, but only for seasoned and hardened hikers.If it could get any worse, a group of villagers returning from a foraging trek for their cattle informed us that we had taken the wrong trail. It did go all the way to Kutla, our destination, just not through the valley, but around it. The only way was forward, through thicker foliage as the forest got dense, likelihood of encountering wildlife, and hazard of crossing landslides. In a nutshell, we were doomed.Since we were more than halfway through and had no water left now, our only bet was to move forward. The trail was steeper laid with rocks and covered with overgrowth. The forest seemed uninviting, and I comprehended that human can never conquer nature. Sporadically, someone would lose their balance, or sit down in exhaustion, yet we laboured on. No one spoke for what it seemed an eternity. Until the Spaniard, who was leading our convoy at that time yelled, 'Vamos!'I looked up the trail at him and saw that it flattened out from where he stood. We had made it. And we all yelled, 'Vamos!'It was almost sundown, we had settled down on the crown of the valley ridge watching the sun melt down in the horizon, painting the whole sky amber. Everyone exchanged glances, worn-out, though proud.                                                   -----Chapter Five: Querencia Spanish for a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home and you're your most authentic self.According to the national census of 2011, the village of Kulta has a population of 4. It has no cellular reception, no motorway, and only clean hydroelectric energy.                                             *****I step out my log-cabin, still grinning as I join my friends for breakfast. It is our last day together. I greet them and sit down sipping on the soothing local concoction of ginger-lemon-honey-tea. It had been over four weeks since our crusade landed us in this paradise. The panorama is inexplicable. It is the epitome of beauty. The snow-capped hills stand fiercely cocooning the valley, a veil of haze descends down from them. The sunlight filters through the clouds that you walk through and the leaves of trees still growing since the olden days.