I had a weekend break before I was off again. A few days before the trip, I heard that two other US rotationals were heading to Kashmir to ski in the Himalayas at Gulmarg. Snowboarding in the Himalayas was definitely on my list and honestly, I just kind of assumed it would be too complicated for me to figure out and do so when I heard about their trip, I was intrigued. I decided that I couldn’t take Friday and Monday off and that it was too last-minute to go with them but I got the tour information so that I could go the next weekend by myself. As I started to plan my trip, it became clear that I was going to have to take a Friday and Monday off anyway, and so I decided I might as well go with Victoria and Pat!
A couple of days before flying to Kashmir, I said I was in, booked my flights, and the tour guy adjusted arrangements so that I had a room in Gulmarg and a room on the houseboat. Yes, a houseboat. More on that soon. After agreeing, I started panicking because I didn’t know anything about Kashmir (except that it’s a pretty politically charged region) or the mountain. For hours that night, I researched Kashmir and Gulmarg. While avalanches are absolutely something to be worried about, it seemed that rescue efforts were advanced and consistently successful. I told myself (and Bryan) that even if I was too scared to snowboard, it was worth going on the trip to see Kashmir and the Himalayas.
We landed in Kashmir – a highly militarized and monitored airport at the disputed border India and Pakistan. We got some Kashmiri non-alcoholic beer, because, why not? And hit the road with a driver arranged by the tour guy. Kashmir was fascinating. Very Indian but with these huge modern houses scattered about. It was so strange and none of us could really figure it out but at some point, we were told that they are just huge houses for rich businessmen. Not a very exciting answer but definitely not what we’re used to seeing in the rest of India. As we neared Gulmarg, the ground and trees became covered in snow. Then the snow started coming down heavily. The roads were slushy and we stopped so that the driver could put chains on the tires. We arrived at Gulmarg in the afternoon in time to catch a glimpse of the tiny little ski village covered in snow still coming down.
We checked in, ate, and hiked to the ski shop to get all of our rental gear. It was late and dark and the shop was closed but shortly, a few guys came and opened it up for us. We soon put together that one of the guy’s owned the shop and was pretty much singlehandedly responsible for the entire ski situation in Gulmarg. He was super nice and humble – I’m not kidding when I say we “put together” that he was the town’s founder. We got set up with snow pants, snow jackets, gloves, helmets, goggles, boots, snowboard (skis for them), avalanche beacons and probes. The clothes were old “Gulmarg Ski School” clothes, super cool but as grungy as you’d expect of rented snow clothes.
The next day, we woke up early, had a yummy breakfast at the hotel, and hiked to the snow shop to pick up our freshly waxed equipment. With that, we walked a looooong road to meet our ski guide. Visibility was pretty bad so when we found out the mountain was closed, we were disappointed but not necessarily surprised. I was actually glad that I didn’t have to make the decision myself as to whether I’d go snowboarding on that mountain in those conditions. Our ski guide had another plan. He called a friend with a jeep who picked us up and drove us to a backroad launch point, basically a run that ran between the top of a winding road and the bottom of it. So picture a mountain road where you are winding back and forth the face of a mountain to get up or down. The “run” took you from one part of the road, straight down to where the road becomes parallel to itself again. There was no run. It was just a section of mountain with relatively sparse trees that was accessible at the top and bottom. Pat sent it first, took a little spill and had to get his skis back on. In the meantime, I went and zipped down before stopping to wait for the group and guide to catch up. I waited and waited and waited. Eventually the guide came and told me to wait it out, Victoria had fallen and lost a ski. The guide climbed back up the mountain to help her look and eventually, came to guide Pat and I down to the road. It was the deepest now I’ve ever been in. Trying to get back on top of my snowboard, I would put my hands behind me to push off the ground and my arms would just sink down to my shoulders. It was wild. I did the one run successfully and called it a day. I’ve learned a little since Goa. Also, to get back to the launch point and the village, it took about 2.5 hours. We’re talking less than 1 km but hundreds of cars stuck with inadequate tires, inept drivers, and nowhere to go.
Despite being an absolutely prime, blue bird day, the next day, the gondola was not operating (the only way to get up the mountain). We couldn’t believe it. Hundreds of people stood around the lodge hoping that it would open. We heard rumors that there was a technical issue. Then we heard that if the mountain didn’t open by 12, it wouldn’t open at all. Then we heard that they weren’t going to open the mountain because the tourists wouldn’t have enough time to get up the mountain, take pictures, and come back down before end of the day. It was all very confusing and so different than mountain operations in the US. We texted our ski guide, the tour guide, and the King of the Mountain to see what they could do. Shortly after (I have no idea if our texts made a difference), I noticed people starting to move toward the ticket counter and ran over there. The crowd closed in quickly. Picture a little concession stand with the rolldown cover. Then picture HUNDREDS of people crowed up against it. I was right behind one person who was right against the counter. Prime position. We waited and waited about 45 minutes, totally stuffed together in all of our snow clothes, just waiting. Eventually, the started to sell tickets. As soon as the guy in front of me got his tickets, I wedged myself into his place. The Indian men around me were taken aback, “whoa! You’re a strong woman, I didn’t expect that!” (Eye roll) Obviously they expected that they would just be able to push me out of the way. I said, “I’ve lived in India since August, I know how this works, I’m not losing my spot.” I got three gondola tickets and we started the fight in the gondola line.
Finally on the gondola, taking in the white snow and beautiful mountain. It was absolutely gorgeous and untouched. We take some pictures and I start my way down, stopping to wait for the group and guide to catch up. Pat came and informed me that Victoria had lost her ski again. We sat watching them, a couple hundred yards up the mountain, push probes into the impossibly deep snow to find her ski. One hour later, they found it and we were able to ski and snowboard down the mountain. It was awesome for a bit but then the run turned into a narrow, icy catwalk (but not a catwalk like on a ledge, just a narrow path carved out) full of fallen skiers. It was a little treacherous, but I did a good job navigating and impressed everyone along the way – apparently, good women snowboarders aren’t common in those parts.
There was time for another run but I opted out, again, just glad to be safe.
More good food and sleep and the next day, we headed to Srinigar’s Dal Lake for a stay on a houseboat. It was like out of a dream! We reached the edge of the lake where a long thin paddle boat was waiting to take us to the houseboat we had rented for the night; the owner was there to greet us and show us the boat. The lake was calm and surrounded by the snowy Himalayas. We reached the houseboat (almost like a double-wide mobile home boat mixed with a river boat) and inside was so cool. Very antique-y, lots of wood and intricate wallpaper, rugs, and curtains. My room was quaint with a stove right in the middle for warmth.
One Indian trick I’ve picked up on is this: everyone you meet will ask you if you want to shop the local industry. In Kashmir, it is rugs. So the houseboat owner asks and says that he will take us away from the places they scam tourists and to a real rug maker who will give us local prices. Having been through this a few times by now, I know that we will not get local prices but the person recommending we go WILL get a sort of commission. Not necessarily in the market for a rug, I agreed to go with Pat and Victoria. A few hundred dollars later, a beautiful yellow rug was purchased and ready to be sent to San Diego. 😊
The next day, Pat and Victoria had an early flight so I had the day to tour Srinigar alone before my flight later (yes, theirs was sold out by the time I booked mine). The houseboat owner arranged a driver for me who zipped me from site to site. A hilltop temple, a botanical garden, a mosque, and a fort. Finally on our way to the airport, the houseboat owner called me and said the driver would take me to meet him so that he could give me all the ingredients for Kashmiri tea (Kehwa), which we had all raved about all weekend. We stopped on the side of the highway, he jumped in the car and handed me a rather large bag of tea leaves, a bag of cinnamon sticks, a container of saffron, and bag of cardamom. He made me promise that I would divide evenly so that Pat and Victoria could make Kehwa too.
There were no less than 5 security checks on the way to, and in the airport. Flight home was uneventful and now I can say I’ve snowboarded in the Himalayas!!!
Emily in India 
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