mmm…Wait. Lets look at my laces first. ‘Laces:A fine open fabric, typically one of cotton or silk, made by looping, twisting, or knitting thread in patterns.’ I hate them. Imagine. What a terrible contraption for tying one’s shoes. It takes so long. Why? Why cruel world? Is that all that your intellect can spew out? You could have found a way round it, couldn’t you?  But we can’t really give up a chance to torture Nishant… Can we? Oh my dear world!!! Stupid centipede like objects stringing around as if they were snakes. And the society thinks that I am the mad one. Here, I considered learning how to tie my laces. The result of the consideration is that I have not gone skating ever since. Then you will ask me, how do I wear my shoes? In general, I do not tie them and I had grown 23 years old without falling. But. But their diabolical plan finally caught up with me. These nasty things strung themselves around the bicycle pedal. I lost my balance. Down I went… As I stared at the starless starry blue sky… “Are you okay?” …  Anyhow I have switched to slippers unless absolutely necessary.

Sorry for the digression… but wait… did I say cycle? Oh yes. Cycle. Nishant Chandgotia can now cycle and swim. Surprised? Come on. You always knew that I can do it, didn’t you?  Then what was all the laughing and pointing and insulting about? Terrible people…  Terrible terrible people. Remarkably both of them went quite smoothly considering how scared I was(look at the chicken)and there is little to talk about except the history. My first day of swimming when I was kid. I cried so much and then I did not have to go any more. Or you might be thinking of my first day cycling when I broke into my neighbour’s fence and there went my cycling career. How did I learn how to cycle after all?

For this I have to thank my dear friend, Marc. Here is Marc:

The Murky Marc

One of the greatest people around this area, he is a great proponent of Marcism. However let us not talk about Marcism. This blog space is too short for that kind of a discussion. Having found out that I did not know how to cycle, he gifted me one. With the cycle came the social obligation of learning how to ride one. However life had decided otherwise and I was busy for the last month or so. Finally the day arrived, the clouds parted, I decided to learn and Marc decided to teach. After all “”Guru bin gyaan na hoye”(You cannot gain knowledge without a teacher.) I decided that the dingy back alleys of my office is a good place. Here I would not be noticed, maybe ignored and far from cars. To show me how to ride, Marc got on the bike, showed me how to pedal. Then he asked me to try. I fell. He took an obligatory falling down photograph( I posed) and left.

The Fall of Man

A friend of mine was very impressed by this teaching technique but do not be impressed. It is Marcism. It works. Nowadays I go out at 3 in the night to cycle down the Marine Drive while enjoying the beautiful scenery of the full moon over the deep Pacific waters. In short, I can now cycle.

hmm lets return to the topic of the post… Wait what was it? Well later. I have written enough for the day. : -) Thanks Marc. You shall have your Dosa sometime in the future.

For what I consider to be a legitimate opinion(and not saying whether or not I agree with everything):

http://www.thestatesman.net/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=379907&catid=38

People who know me, would know why this is related to me. A class one coward. Let me tell you more about it.

When I think of my cowardice, the first thing that strikes me is the time when my parents shifted me to another room. The new room had no night bulb. This meant that there would be no light when I would be trying to sleep. Unacceptable. Tantrums, fights and when nothing worked I would refuse to leave my parent’s room. A little coaxing got me to stay in that room. The deal was that I would hold my sister’s hand till I fell asleep. After a while my sister got  bugged and I was shifted to another room(with a night bulb).

My cowardice was not arbitrary. I always had some way of rationalising it. If I swim I might drown; if I ride the bike I might be hit by a car; if I go on that ride it, I might throw up; if I sleep without the light, the ghosts will spot me but I will not be able to spot them and so on. As a result I never learnt how to swim, or ride a bike or do anything remotely exciting.

Even when I grew up, the cowardice stayed. Unless I can conclude that this is not going to harm me, I do not take another step. It was indeed a golden day in my history, when I learnt how to swim. (Yes!!! I now know how to swim.)

This weekend I went on a trip with a club(VOC) to the Sphinx hut. The route was over the Panaroma ridge and from there onto the hut. It was a 21 kilometer route and we made it to   the 17 km mark(at Panaroma Ridge) quite easily. We were supposed to make the return journey tomorrow. The forecast said that it might rain. I am now comfortable with snow, but snow on steep slopes, lack of proper trail and rain did not seem the right thing for the inexperienced soul. Although a lot of our group were enthusiastic about it, I convinced half the group to chicken out.  This is the first time I turned round during a trip. But you know what, I don’t have a broken leg and am happy about it. I hope that my brain will keep on taking these mature decisions as time goes on. People as me, do not tend to do great things. To do great things you need to step out of your safety parameter. Do I care?

It was still an excellent trip. Here are some pictures. (Do read the captions… )

https://picasaweb.google.com/115685393216657178219/HikeToPanaromaRidge#

http://www.boloji.com/index.cfm?md=Content&sd=Articles&ArticleID=11283

Do comment if you have something interesting to add to the matter.

Not many a times does one actually get to live life. People who know me would know about my passion for mathematics. It seems like modern human society tends to look down on me for being so ‘academic’(read nerdy) at times. Not that I mind, but I would be the least workaholic if you ask me. To emphasise that I shall talk about my other passion. Hiking. (Yes Shivam, this is another travelogue)

I began hiking last summer. Being in Vancouver and being excited about it did help. Although most of last summer was spent in India and Seattle, I did quite a few hikes which introduced me to the general structure and terrain of the Coast Mountains. The only hike which went slightly overboard was the hike to Goat Mountain.

This year has been bad in terms of weather. I have been to a lot of places but  there has been too much snow and work to do something really exciting. Off lately, one of my friends Zheng Hua had decided to move to Kansas. He had some unfinished business at Hanes and I was itching to do something right after my defense. We concurred upon a plan. I carefully found everything that I could about the hike and equipped myself with an ice axe, hiking poles, a compass, bear spray and mountaineering boots. Not everyone was as excited as us. My adviser considered giving me enough work so that I would not be able to go(he thought it was a bit risky ). My mother was extremely unhappy at the developments. “isse acha to tum darpok hi rahte.”(It was better back then when you were a coward.) I am still a coward. I still get scared. I guess I now know how to tackle it better. Meticulous and careful planning.

Mountaineering boots

I woke up early at around 6:30. Another 10 minutes were spent in trying to open my eyes. I got ready and was interestingly punctual. But how could things be that way. I put on my boots to walk. I must make this public. If you have not tried them before, walking with mountaineering boots is hard. My speed was easily halved if not more and I just made it onto the bus. It was about a kilometer from the bus stop to the trail head. By the end of it, I was dead tired. People somehow complain they have never seen me tired. This was your golden opportunity. I tightened my shoes in the proper way. The trail began.

We started on our way to the Norvan falls at about 9:30. It is straightforward trail which people ‘run’ on. Run did I say, I was struggling already. Getting used to the shoe was the first difficult part.

In the mean time I met this old(?) man. We talked a bit. He started asking me what places he should hike around this place. I started rattling off some names. He said,’Strange. I have never heard of these places.’ So I started telling him more about them…He was rather patient. Suddenly something struck me. I asked him, “Do you have a particular place in mind?” He said “Mt Mckinley”. I shut up after that. I must comment, I meet very interesting people sometimes.

My hiking partner was far ahead of me. The poor fellow had to wait a lot at various locations. But I knew I was in for a long one. No point taxing myself. At about 1, we were at the lynn creek. We had lunch. Pao Bhaji tastes better after work.

We were doing great with time. By the way I walked over this log. Falling would not be too bad. At most a few broken bones

The day was beautiful and the scenery truly astounding. After this crossing we were basically kings of the trail. No one for miles around.  We made it to the end of Hanes Valley Route.  For reference here is the map:

600 metres above the sea level, now began the actual hike. I must note that it was very pretty around us. We were cradled in between mountains.

The sign at Hanes valley

We had to hike up this Rock scree.

It is as difficult as it looks. It was two hours of scramble in between tumbling stones and tumbling snow. I have not sweated so much for quite sometime now. I was concentrating on crossing the boulder field without falling in. My bag somehow dangled mid air and down went one of my hiking poles in between two big rocks. Here I made a wise decision of just leaving it there. It was risky to try to retrieve it. I had lost an important support. I must say the mountaineering boots were a blessing in snow and a curse on the firm ground. They kept my ankle very firm. It kept on becoming more and more challenging and four limbs were not enough. The following happened so many times. I was holding on to a tree. Suddenly it would break and down I would go crashing. But I was careful(lucky?) enough to avoid anything beyond a few bruises. The scenery behind kept on becoming more and more beautiful.

Hanes Valley from the top

The trail till the beginning of this climb was more or less well marked. Here it was more difficult to find the trail. There were few markers and difficult to spot. The only thing reminding us of human civilisation were helicopters. There were so many of them. I think they were for touristy purposes but I am not sure. I can imagine someone looking at me as I pulled myself up. Very cool. We hit snow at about 800 metres. I think being on the leeward side of the mountain made the difference.

We reached the Crown Pass at about 4:30(1000 metres). It is strange. Never in my life have I every been able to do a chin up. I was an object of ridicule, I tried so hard but never. Here there were many instances where I had to pull myself and my bag up only by the strength of my arms. It was so much more difficult. But I did it, and it was not bad. Situations can indeed dictate.

There we met a person returning from Crown Mountain. He passed us in a matter of seconds and we did not see him after that. He was so fast. We kept on.  Our next destination was Little Goat. There were lots of bugs and steep snowy slopes. I must say my concentration was very intense. I am rarely so focused. One never gets to know about his abilities unless he does something like this.

While we were struggling to remain in one piece we found bear tracks. Very soon we heard a bear and Zheng  saw one. An immediate reaction was to run, but I had the bear spray at hand. We walked on confidently and the bear never faced us. We were lucky. Bears have a lot of advantage in such a terrain. My melodious voice must have soothed his soul.

We kept on slipping and rising in the snow. Finally at about 6:45 we had made it to Little Goat. In the mean time we had lost the way a couple of times. Navigation was slightly tough. The compass turned out to be really useful. It was a very good buy.

Mount Baker

Goat Mountain

Crown Covered with trees

The brilliant views, our extreme excitement and the soft tiredness. The following video was at the top of little goat.

We were completely wrong about our conclusions of where is what. At a particular slope I slipped down and could not hold on to my hiking pole. I had two options. Either dig my knuckles in or catch hold the tree. I caught hold of the tree. It had thorns. Ouch. I made my way up, caught hold of the hiking pole and slid down the slope again. It was fun.

It took us a few minutes down to realise that we were going in the wrong direction. Out came the compass and it was yet another day when the world was saved. We made our way to the Dam(ned) mountain. The portion was not too bad, a bit slippery but I was at the fag end of my strength. Walking with mountaineering boots had really strained my foot. My thighs and hands were exhausted. My elbows and shins were red and badly scratched because of all the sliding on the snow and the rocks at the rock scree before. At the last few meters up the Dam I pulled my left thigh muscle. For minutes I lay on the steep snow slope writhing in pain.  I knew what this was about and what had to be done. I gave it sometime and then massaged it vigorously. Within 5-10 minutes I could walk again. There was a soft pain but nothing that I could not tolerate. I must admire Zheng’s patience and maturity. Another person might have gone into hysteria. Hysteria is much more dangerous than a pulled muscle.

We pushed on. Whenever we felt our sweat, the cold snow beneath and the tiredness within we only had to look up. Far away we would see Mount Rainier after an expanse of the Pacific Ocean. We made it on to the top of Dam.

Resting on the top of Dam Mountain

From there it was a lot of fun sliding down. It was safe and I knew the trail very well. The snow had gone down in the area in the last few weeks. But there was still a bit. Maybe a few cms. Enough for me slide down and have a gala time.

I changed at grouse and took off my shoes. Frankly, I have had enough of those for this day.

It was a wonderful trip and we had a very good time.

I made my way to the downtown and watched the fireworks along with Venu. As usual, he was shouting at the top of his throat. It was fun. I was not wearing shoes and had horrible drab clothes. (I was too tired to wear anything proper. ) This was a great source of entertainment to the general Vancouverite. “Are you Maha Yogi?” Not that I care.

And the just deserts back at home.

I realise today as I count the scratches over my body, perseverance is my greatest strength. The rest hopefully shall follow.

As for now to describe the priorities in my life try to spot me in this picture. So long, and thanks for all the fish.

September is more or less okay. But it might rain. So we wanted to go for a department hike and it rained each and every weekend till October sorts. The good thing about this are the autumn colours.

Photographer: Cheenu

Yellow and reddish hue falling from heaven it seems,

As winter finally wins the race,

My heart yearns for those everlasting dreams,

As every raindrop mars my face.

By end October, start November it begins to rain. It rains and rains and rains and occasionally snows and then rains again and now its terribly cold. Not cold cold, but still very cold.

Photographer : Cheenu

And then comes spring. We waited the whole time, but it did not come this year. Let us assume it does.

The flower fill the island sweet,

Dandelions, tulips and roses sway,

Not green I can see in the morning, Greet

cherry blossoms on every street.

Photographer: Swiya

And then starts summer. When one arrives at Vancouver, everybody tells him: you should wait for May, you should wait for May. And when May comes it will still be raining and miserable. The weather is still quite unpredictable and sometimes even the forecast websites give up.NaN: not a number for temperature.

Credits: Anupam

I am sure Dharmendra did not mean this when he sang to Mumtaz. But I  mean it:

By June weather  is nice. You can spend time outside and this is why I am here. This is when I call this place heaven. Pretty, youthful and sheer loveliness, the city comes alive.

Photographer: Gourab

Looking forward to cloudless skies,

Where the days are warm and rain rare,

A young man shall jump and dive,

Frolicking in nature’s care.

I love this place

I come and leave and leave and come,

No road has seen  and no road begun,

A thousand lightbulbs in the sun,

Dew drops on the leaves they lie,

Unperturbed by the afternoon high. It sings to its own delight,

Giving young mathematicians some fright.

A river runs down below,

Do you mind the reflection though.

Rice Lake its called, I know not why,

Pretty as it is, on the gloomiest sky.

The stones form a maze in the water fill,

I know not how to find the way within.

The sun shines on an evening gay,

The forest, the greenery, the sight is my prey.

Do not disturb me it says today,

Come tomorrow and I shall sing to ye.

An empty bridge stands over water high,

I wish had someone to walk with by.

Random people on the street I meet,

Are not so random after I greet.

The king sleeps in heaven dear,

Yet the palace lives on earth near.

The day is gone do not bereave,

The moon is bright among clouds meek.