WHEN colleagues of the police force learnt I was launching the maiden mountaineering venture of the Punjab Police Adventure Sports Club which had been established a year ago and of which I was the Founder-President, some enquired anxiously whether I would be the only climber on the team. Their skepticism was understandable since the sport of climbing is yet to "take-off" among the Indian police force. However, the comment was met with withering scorn and they were informed that it was in fact the handful of constables whom I had encouraged to do the basic and advanced courses who had asked me to organise this modest venture. I selected Kalanag in the Tons valley for its easy accessibility from Punjab. Plus, I had a desire to climb it since I set eyes on its slopes 30 years ago. The peak was generally considered to be a "safe" one despite its reputation of being crevasse-ridden.

The team was at the road head at Sankri by June 5 having cleared, what John Bunyan in his allegory Pilgrim's Progress calls the Slough of Despond. Beyond this I had plans to first explore the ski valleys to the south of the Bandarpunch glacier, the crossing of the Jamnotri pass and in the North, the crossing of the Swaragarohini spur into Har-ki-doon.

To get on with the expedition: we went up the Tons, on its roller-coaster track through mixed deciduous-coniferous forests of maple, oak and spruce. The delightful calls of elusive hill birds lifted the mind out of any sluggishness and one was lucky enough to see Himalayan Tree Pies, woodpeckers and redstarts. The next halt was Oshla. After this was the walk through meadows and deodar forests. Birds again played hide-and-seek and we spotted redstarts and whistling thrushes along the river. At Devsu Bugial, near the confluence of the Tons and the Ruinsara, we were rewarded with our first glimpse of the Black Peak, which has a prominent black rock jutting out of the western rampart of the mountain and also has a long ramp that goes up to the summit like a cone. It resembles the head of a snake, thus the peak has got the name Kalanag. We were 18 km away from our camp at the heavenly Ruinsara Tal, which on the way up was too crowded with porters to enjoy in solitude.

The base camp was set up at Kiarkoti by June 8 at an altitude of 4415m, on a large meadow with running water from the slopes of Swargarohini I Peak. The porters returned from here. We could see high peaks all around. The weather, though normal for Garhwal at this time of the year, delivered regular showers by the late afternoon and light snowfall in the upper reaches. The walk up to the base was memorable amid the colours of anemone obtusiloba, primula denticulata, primula involucrata, iris kumaonensis, rhododendron companulatum, fritillaria oxypetalum, etc.

With the radio forecast announcing the rapidly approaching monsoon — a week before normal — I was under pressure to drop the elaborate acclimatisation plans chalked out and go for the main objective at the earliest.

The next day we ferried loads over grassy slopes, two nullahs, a tricky slope and established the Advanced Base Camp (ABC) at 5050m (16,534 ft) at Dharodhari Grazing Grounds. The reward of the day was the spotting of two herds of bharal (Himalayan Blue Sheep). I regretted leaving my Asahi Pentax and the lens behind. A roosting monal pheasant remonstrated volubly at being disturbed, but I think it would not have minded had it realised we were actually interested in catching a glimpse of her mate which had a brilliant metallic green head and crest. We eventually saw it fly out from a hillside. Less noisy was the rubythroat near the ABC.

On June 10, the climbing team occupied the ABC, and moved further up in brilliant weather. We again encountered the loud 'gonk' of the monal which protested very loudly at being disturbed at its resting place. Some of us again sighted one of the two large herds of bharal before the camp. From the camp we got a good view of all the peaks of the range and also the glacier below swinging to our right.

The next two days were spent in acclimatising to the heights above the camp, glissading down and ferrying the load onto the Kalanag glacier, and dumping it on a snowfield at 5500m. The landmarks of Barasukha, Yellow Tooth, Chotanag and some of the Swaragarohini peaks could be seen.

We had longer periods of snowfall, making climbing conditions difficult.

Camp I (our assault camp) at 5700m (18500ft) was eventually occupied on June 13. It was located on a snow hump on the Kalanag Icefall. However the weather packed up thereafter and we were compelled to rough it out for three nights with diminishing supplies of food.

By the third evening the weather lifted. The snow conditions seemed to be relenting just a wee bit to give us a chance to get to the summit.

The preparations for an early departure commenced with a meal — the last of our rations of rice, dal and nutri-nuggets and a mug of Boost, piping hot. Shortly after midnight, we were away: six climbing members and two high altitude assistants. It was not too cold I recall and there was no wind but soon it began snowing lightly. The climbers moved over the snow, torches illuminating their path, towards the col between Garur and Kalanag. Nari, Kulwinder, Bhagat Singh and Chandan were on one rope, while Mohan Lal, Gurbachan, Daulat and I were on the second. Nari was leading the climbers on her rope. This incredible lady broke trail through the soft crust, almost the entire way to the top. On my rope, Mohan and I took turns at leading. I insisted that all climbers remained on the rope throughout the climb.

As we made our way upward, most of us were struck with a languorous feeling, which I can only attribute to lassitude in the windless icefall. At sunrise, the snowfall stopped. The climbing conditions were poor due to the snow and the crampons "balled up", making the going hard, until eventually I removed mine from my boots. At 19,500 ft we paused for a break and could see the northern slopes of Bandarpunch and its satellite West Peak. The final summit slopes seemed interminable. To compound my discomfort, at the base of the summit pyramid, I fell into a hidden crevasse. Without crampons, groping in the dark with rotten snow on all sides, which was disintegrating at every impact with my shaken frame, I was thankful for my safety harness and the rope that the others had safely anchored below and above me. I was able to climb out but was out of breath. It was a long climb, thanks to the poor snow conditions but all eight of us reached the summit at 20956 ft by 3.30 p.m. in packed weather. The traditional rituals were conducted; we spoke over the walkie-talkie to the trekking-party at the base camp and accepted their congratulatory messages, before plunging downwards. I walked into the camp last, satisfied that all others had returned safely, after a 16-hour day.

It must be mentioned here that the average age of the climbing members was only 31, and so at 48, I was entitled to take my time climbing downhill. Moreover the climb to the summit was long enough with 2260 feet of vertical height to be covered.

The next day saw all the climbers weary, without food and rations. Moreover, the gas had run out at the assault camp. There was no option but to go down as early as possible. The camp was cleared up and we descended to the ABC for our first proper meal in 39 hours. This camp was also cleared and the team went to the base the same evening where we found that the trekking group of Vinod, Ramesh and Premi had left for a walk into Har-ki-Doon to complete our active exertions for the season.