The Trek To Odii Putu From Sago Village, Arunachal Pradesh

The Trek To Odii Putu From Sago Village, Arunachal Pradesh, India

The sound of heavy rain falling on the roof had woken me up quite early. It had been pouring heavily throughout the night and I wondered as to what would happen to our plans of a trek to Odii Putu, a sunrise point, high up in the hills. It was pitch dark in the room we were sleeping and I could still hear the staccato beat of rainwater on the roof. It took a few moments for me to orient myself and recall the events of the preceding night.

The Night Before

We were in a village named Sago, situated about 18 kilometers from the town of Basar in the North-Eastern state of Arunachal  Pradesh, India. We had driven to the village the previous night braving heavy and unseasonal rainfall. We had stayed the night at the home of one of the Galo tribe. The night had been a memorable one. We had been welcomed into the home with warmth and hospitality that is an inherent characteristic of the Galo people.

A fireplace occupied the center-stage in the house we were put up in, as it does in all traditional Galo homes. The fireplace serves many purposes. It is used for cooking, drying, warming oneself and also serves as the center for social interaction within the house.

We all sat around the fireplace and the members of the extended family of the Galo house talked about their culture and customs and regaled us with some lilting Galo songs. All the while Poka, the traditional rice wine and Lal Chai (Black Tea), flowed like water, warming the cockles of everyone and adding to the festive atmosphere.

This continued till late in the night till everyone tired from the day’s adventures slowly dozed off around the fireplace with heads towards it and legs facing away. As we drifted into sleep, the embers of the fire too died away. We tucked ourselves away in the cozy and heavy blankets provided by our gracious hosts.

The plan was to trek to the top of a hill from Sago which offered spectacular views early morning. But rain seemed to have thrown a spanner in our plans. I woke up and careful not to tread upon the others sleeping around me slipped out of the door silently. The view from the verandah of the house was amazing.

Yellow flowers against the bluish grey of the skies presented a beautiful vista. It was still cloudy, but the rain had stopped. So there was still hope for going ahead with our plans for the trek to Odii Putu, I thought.

As the others stirred in their sleep, the fire crackled as a kettle with tea boiled. Cups of hot and steaming black tea warmed our bodies and a breakfast of fruits, rice cakes, and noodles satiated our tummies that groaned with hunger.

The Trek To Odii Putu Is On

After some deliberation, it was decided that we would be doing the trek though the trail would be quite slippery owing to the overnight rain. Some from our group preferred to stay back in the village and interact with the villagers and understand more about the Galo culture.

Finally, four of us, accompanied by three locals from the village of Sago and Karyom Basar who was coordinating our entire trip on behalf of the organization called GRK, set off on the trek to Odii Putu. My shoes had met their nemesis the previous night and I was wearing floaters as it was quite late in the night to buy a fresh pair of shoes. So a pair of sneakers were borrowed and off I went suitably booted to tackle the trail to Odii Putu.

We got dropped off on the road beside the start of the trail and here our local guides whom I will refer to henceforth as the “three musketeers’, fashioned trekking poles out of wood and handed it to us.

The Tiger Man

We met a Galo tribal wearing a belt like an ornament across his shoulders. What riveted our attention were the tiger jaw that formed the core of the ornament. The man had hunted down and killed a tiger and now he wore its claws like a trophy. We were eager to photograph him, but he strictly forbade us and gave permission only to photograph the tiger claws. He inspected our cameras to make sure that we had adhered to his wish and had not clicked his face.

After this interesting interlude, we were off, negotiating a steep climb. The distance to be covered was not much, probably not more than 2 kilometers, but the devil was in the fact that most of the way it was a sheer climb and the path was slippery owing to the rain. The path was quite treacherous in parts, and one need to gingerly put your best foot forward in a literal sense.

I knew that my borrowed shoes were going to be a disaster from the first step, but I hung on. I did the trek slowly as I wanted to conserve my energy and also for the fact that I wanted to enjoy and savor each and every moment of the experience.

There was no fun in hurrying. Whether it be the trek in the Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda or the one at Shitalakhet in Uttarakhand, I have always lingered on the trail while trekking. So obviously I brought up the rear with one of the three musketeers as the others disappeared around a bend.

The Exchange

As I enjoyed the cool breeze and the views as we gained height, my legs or rather my shoes did not seem to share the same ecstasy. A couple of skids, slips, and near-falls prompted my companion to suggest that my shoes were not equipped to tackle the slippery heights. He showed the gumboots that he was wearing and offered to swap shoes with me. I gleefully agreed and the exchange took place. I moved on with renewed vigor, the gumboots bolstering my confidence as I clambered up the trail which had been turned to a mushy and slippery trap by the footfalls of our own group who were in the lead.

The time we spent in the exchange of shoes ensured that we had fallen back and the others had gone quite a bit ahead.

We reached an enclosure high up in the hills which looked like a pen and was bounded with a fence and a wicket gate. My companion explained that this was the place that they used to herd their Mithun, the bovine that formed an integral part of Galo culture. He explained that the villagers would brand the Mithuns for identification and leave them in the forest for grazing, and this was the place where they would be herded. Incidentally, the number of Mithuns owned is a reflection of the standing of a Galo tribesman.

As we continued our climb, breathing in the fresh mountain air, the familiar feeling of exhilaration filled me. Being one with nature is high that has no parallel. I made good progress with the gumboots ensuring my firm footing. On the contrary, my companion slipped a couple of times, demonstrating the unsuitable nature of the footwear. As we continued to climb, we hear a voice floating across the forests, it was one of our group who had got left behind and was waiting for us. He told us that he had negotiated one of the most slippery and treacherous portions of the trail by literally sitting down and hoisting himself upwards with his hands!

Summit Ahoy

Soon we reached a plateau and spotted a transmission tower and some small hut-like structures. We broke into smiles as we realized that we had reached the peak. We had negotiated the climb in about 2 hours. We were welcomed with a glass of hot tea prepared for us by members of the Indian Army who were manning the place. It always gives one a rush of pride and gratitude to shake hands with the members of the Indian Armed Forces who man stations that are inaccessible, whether it be the sands of the deserts of Rajasthan or the cold desert lands of Ladakh.

The weather was still gloomy and there was not much of a view from the hilltop. But the trek in itself was an unforgettable experience. We may not have climbed the Mount Everest, but attaining the smallest of peaks is a joy and satisfaction in itself as we exulted in the moment and posed for a picture.

After a brief rest, we started back. It was faster going now, but we needed to be more careful as the slippery track and gravity would combine to hasten our descent to the bottom. We took a shortcut through the woods off the track and reached our starting point much faster, but not before a couple of falls as we clutched on to trees and branches that themselves gave way. But it was fun and an experience to relive again and again.

The Picnic

When we reached the bottom, we were pleasantly surprised to see the villagers from Sago village gathered on the banks of a stream. The women dressed in their colorful costumes.

Smoke emanating from a fire on which food was being cooked. A woman was preparing fresh Poka or rice wine. It was a grand picnic organized for us.

We sat around the fire and sipped Poka from bamboo stem vessels. We feasted on grilled tomatoes, eggplants and rice, which tasted like manna from heaven, especially after the trek as we were feeling famished.

A folk dance by the lovely Galo women provided a perfect end to the afternoon. Sadly it was soon time to take our leave.

We got into our vehicle and waved goodbye. As we shouted Al rooodo!(Thanks in the Galo language), we felt a lump in our throats and moistness in our eyes at the loving warmth which the people of Sago had shown towards us.

This is one of the many wonderful experiences that we had on our sojourn in the beautiful state of Arunachal Pradesh, stay tuned for more from Arunachal Pradesh and the beautiful world of the Galo tribe. Do let us know your thoughts through the comments section.

We were hosted by BASCON – GRK. However, the views and opinions expressed here are our own.

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