Footprints on the Mountainside

This is a memory from a long time ago. Way before I figred out the internet beyond checking mail.

I was living in the high pastures with my herd of horses. The winter had been rough, and I was just camping out in the high altitude pastures where we leave them for the summers, supplementing their diet with some grain, to help them catch on on their health a bit faster.

The days were pretty idle. Feeding the horses a couple of times a day was
no pain - they used to come happily enough for the treat. Beyond that…. not much to do. Cooking, enjoying the paradise I was living in, early to bed, early to rise.

Occupation came in an unexpected way. A gaddi camp was passing by, planning to camp a little higher than the pasture we were in. I recognised the shepherd, and invited him for a cup of tea. When he saw me, he decided to camp near our camp itself.

Over a cup of tea, I realized why.

A filly of his, had been attacked by a bear a week ago, and had been hurt badly. Originally, believing that she would die anyway, he hadn’t taken her to a vet. But she hadn’t yet died. She was in a bad way, with her wounds infected, and was struggling to keep up with the moving camp, to follow her mother. This was creating a problem, as the mare used to keep waiting for her, and slowing the caravan.

I had already gained a solid reputation as an animal lover, and my animals were often a point of interet for local livestock owners for the glowing condition I used to maintain them in. Plus, I was gaining a reputation as an enthusiastic “onofficial vet” from the knowledge of animal medicine I used to gather for the well-being of my horses in a land where vets were not easily available, and often very far from the place of need.

He wanted me to take a llook at the filly and see if there was any hope
for her, as well as see if she could be put down, if there wasn’t. I refused flat out to put her down, as I am not of the opinion that animals should be killed when they are fighting to recover. Plus I lacked the kind of knowledge and equipment it would take to put her down. I agreed to take a look and see what I could do for her.

We went out into the pasture and unloaded his horses to set up camp and then look for the filly. She was in a bad way. She was sleeping, exhausted at the end of the pasture without even coming to join the herd, once she saw that they had halted.

We got her up and brought her up to my tent and tied her in front of it. I started to take a goot look at her and see what it was that I was up against.

She was a beautiful, black filly. Three months old. lovely body structure - she would have made a fine mare when she grew up, if she survived this scenario. Her rump and neck was covered with deep gashes from the bear’s claws, and a week of neglect had allowed infection to settle in. Most of the gashes had developed pus, and a couple had maggots in them. My whole being recoiled at the thought of having to clean up this mess.

If I had to save this filly, I had to do it, no matter how repulsive it was. I felt a surge of anger at the shepherd for neglecting her treatment like that, and vented my fury in choice words, yelling at him and his wife for being callous to the very animals that made their livelihood possible.

The filly stood there shivering from the early morning air and her exhaustion.

I made the couple promise to rest in the pasture for at least a week, before I would touch the filly - it was pointless to begin something, if it wouldn’t be sustained. As an incentive, I praised the quality of
the filly, and asserted that she would become a very valuable animal and bring him good money and work very well, if she was helped to recover. This seemed to strike a note of interest.

I had some anitbiotic injections in my animal first-aid kit. I gave her a shot. She hardly noticed. Then I knew, that I had to get over my nausea and actually deal with those wounds, and took a look at my medical supplies. They were minimal. The anti-septic I had, would hardly deal with half the wounds she had before running out. The same with the creams. Now what? I shoved the supplies back into my sack, and kept only the bottle of phenyl. The rest would have to be home remidies (which was what I preferred in any case).

I made a strong solution of tea in a huge pot and used that to clean the wounds. Yes, I just plunged in, and cleaned them all thoroughly, pus, maggots and all, till the flesh showed clean. Some of the deeper wounds still harboured maggots - of that, I was sure, so I used some gauze soaked in phenyle on them to dress them. On the rest, I applied a light film of honey and stuffed them full with crushed garlic.

All done, I walked away from the tent area and puked.

The evening saw a repeat performance. On the next day, the maggot wounds were clean too, and they received the honey and garlic treatment, and by that evening, some of the lighter cuts had begun to heal, and the filly was acting more interested in life, and giving me trouble to catch for treatment But she seemed to understand that I was trying to help, so she flinched and nudged with her nose, if it hurt, but never tried to kick at me or hurt me in any way.

After that, I taught the couple how to do what I was doing, and told them that they would have to repeat this till ALL the wounds were healed, and that the filly could probably begin walking in a day or two.

They seemed to have got the point, and the two days were uneventful - so to say (not counting one of my fillies who seemed to be jealous of all the
attention this one was getting)

The time was up, and the gaddi camp moved on, and the filly became another memory, until a few years later, when I ran across the same gaddi again. There was a beautiful mare in his herd - the one I had treated. I recognised her instantly
and was happy for her. The couple put camp once more, to spend some time with me, and that evening, I was invited to a special dinner, where they thanked me with tears in their eyes for saving their beautiful mare.

Their animals also looked better cared for, since the last time. I was happy, that things had worked out well, and that they had developed some love and concern for the living factors in their “business”

Tagsanimals,first-aid,horses,memories,performanceare applied to this post

Heh. Monsoons near Mumbai are fun, but let’s be honest - this is blister time. Whether we go on a fun picnic, or a long hike, or simply roam around in the city. The continual wet feet are quite blister prone.

This is why I was so impressed with this product - GlacierGel I came across as I was surfing. It is a clear blister dressing that protects the blister, and is soft and is transparent as well, so we can keep an eye on the painful spot. The perfect recipe for feeling free to risk our feet and know that we can deal with any blisters that pop up?

Tagsfirst-aid,general-stuff,interesting-productsare applied to this post

This is a memory from a long time ago. Way before I figured out the internet beyond checking mail. This is a time when I was a nomadic horsewoman in the Himalaya.
I was living in the high pastures of the Kullu valley with my herd of horses. We were in the pastures below the Hampta Pass - about a 6 hour walk from Manali. The winter had been rough, and we were just camping out in the high altitude pastures where we leave them for the summers, supplementing their diet with some grain, to help them catch on on their health a bit faster.

What a place to be in! We were camped in the meadows at Juara. Alpine meadows - the air is crisp, the water is crystal clear and flows right through the pasture. A few empty stone structures that would later become nomadic tea stalls plus camps of herb gatherers dotted the scene, with sheer black cliffs rising on both sides in stark contrast with the lush comfort of the place. A place straight from some fantasy tale. Once could believe some nature spirits living here, particularly on moonlit nights, when the scene goes black and white, with the moonlight strong enough in places to register come colour. What a life - the horses living free around me, prancing with their improving condition. Pye, my bitch, by my side and the sounds of the stream for company.

The days were pretty idle. Feeding the horses a couple of times a day was no pain - they used to come happily enough for the treat. Beyond that…. not much to do. Cooking, enjoying the paradise I was living in, early to bed, early to rise. Perhaps an occasional visit to Sethan - the last village on this route, and the only fully Buddhist village in the entire Kullu valley, where my god-family lived. A timeless idyll.

Occupation came in an unexpected way. A gaddi camp was passing by, planning to camp a little higher than the pasture we were in. I recognised the shepherd, and invited him for a cup of tea. When he saw me, he decided to camp near our camp itself.

Over a cup of tea, I realized why.

A filly of his, had been attacked by a bear a week ago, and had been hurt badly. Originally, believing that she would die anyway, he hadn’t taken her to a vet. But she hadn’t yet died. She was in a bad way, with her wounds infected, and was struggling to keep up with the moving camp, to follow her mother. This was creating a problem, as the mare used to keep waiting for her, and slowing the caravan.

I had already gained a solid reputation as an animal lover, and my animals were often a point of interet for local livestock owners for the glowing condition I used to maintain them in. Plus, I was gaining a reputation as an enthusiastic “unofficial vet” from the knowledge of animal medicine I used to gather for the well-being of my horses in a land where vets were not easily available, and often very far from the place of need.

He wanted me to take a look at the filly and see if there was any hope for her, as well as see if she could be put down, if there wasn’t. I refused flat out to put her down, as I am not of the opinion that animals should be killed when they are fighting to recover. Plus I lacked the kind of knowledge and equipment it would take to put her down. I agreed to take a look and see what I could do for her.

We went out into the pasture and unloaded his horses to set up camp and then look for the filly. She was in a bad way. She was sleeping, exhausted at the end of the pasture without even coming to join the herd, once she saw that they had halted.

We got her up and brought her up to my tent and tied her in front of it. I started to take a good look at her and see what it was that I was up against.

She was a beautiful, black filly. Three months old, lovely conformation - she would have made a fine mare when she grew up, if she survived this scenario. Her rump and neck was covered with deep gashes from the bear’s claws, and a week of neglect had allowed infection to settle in. Most of the gashes had developed pus, and a couple had maggots in them. My whole being recoiled at the thought of having to clean up this mess.

If I had to save this filly, I had to do it, no matter how repulsive it was. I felt a surge of anger at the shepherd for neglecting her treatment like that, and vented my fury in choice words, yelling at him and his wife for being callous to the very animals that made their livelihood possible.

The filly stood there shivering from the early morning air and her exhaustion.

I made the couple promise to rest in the pasture for at least a week, before I would touch the filly - it was pointless to begin something, if it wouldn’t be sustained. As an incentive, I praised the quality of the filly, and asserted that she would become a very valuable animal and bring him good money and work very well, if she was helped to recover. This seemed to strike a note of interest.

I had some anitbiotic injections in my animal first-aid kit. I gave her a shot. She hardly noticed. Then I knew, that I had to get over my nausea and actually deal with those wounds, and took a look at my medical supplies. They were minimal. The anti-septic I had, would hardly deal with half the wounds she had before running out. The same with the creams. Now what? I shoved the supplies back into my sack, and kept only the bottle of phenyl. The rest would have to be home remidies (which was what I preferred in any case).

I made a strong solution of tea in a huge pot and used that to clean the wounds. Yes, I just plunged in, and cleaned them all thoroughly, pus, maggots and all, till the flesh showed clean. Some of the deeper wounds still harboured maggots - of that, I was sure, so I used some gauze soaked in phenyle on them to dress them. On the rest, I applied a light film of honey and stuffed them full with crushed garlic.

All done, I walked away from the tent area and puked.

The evening saw a repeat performance. On the next day, the maggot wounds were clean too, and they received the honey and garlic treatment, and by that evening, some of the lighter cuts had begun to heal, and the filly was acting more interested in life, and giving me trouble to catch for treatment But she seemed to understand that I was trying to help, so she flinched and nudged with her nose, if it hurt, but never tried to kick at me or hurt me in any way.

After that, I taught the couple how to do what I was doing, and told them that they would have to repeat this till ALL the wounds were healed, and that the filly could probably begin walking in a day or two.

They seemed to have got the point, and the two days were uneventful - so to say (not counting one of my fillies who seemed to be jealous of all the attention this one was getting)

The time was up, and the gaddi camp moved on, and the filly became another memory, until a few years later, when I ran across the same gaddi again. There was a beautiful mare in his herd - the one I had treated. I recognised her instantly and was happy for her. The couple put camp once more, to spend some time with me, and that evening, I was invited to a special dinner, where they thanked me with tears in their eyes for saving their beautiful mare.

Their animals also looked better cared for, since the last time. I was happy, that things had worked out well, and that they had developed some love and concern for the living factors in their “business”

Tagsadventure,animals,destinations,experience,experiential-learning,first-aid,high-altitude,Himalaya,horses,inspiration,memories,mountain,people,performance,reaching-out,trekkingare applied to this post

Leaving for Pench today. Haven’t been there before. It is Wide Aware’s first Wildlife tour to this Tiger Reserve, and we are filled with apprehension and excitement. We have organized this tour at expense, as we have no experience of this region to be offering services. It is a nail-biting time as we wait for the train to arrive, and our journey to start.

Many thoughts cross my mind. Nervous “what if” ones as well as fanciful flights of my imagination. We want to see tigers the most, as it is supposed to be the highlight of this reserve, but we are also anticipating a fantastic time among trees, birds, wild dogs, herbivores like bison, deer… My hyperactive mind serially visualizes all available options including a boring trip with no sightings, people collapsing in the extreme heat of the region in this season, superb sightings, but getting lost in the jungles, a tiger attack, evenings of star gazing…. My mind knows no limits. I even found myself idly thinking about a campfire evening – The temperatures out there are going to be prime heat stroke material – campfire!!!??

This happens to me with every new tour I begin. My mind goes into an imagination expedition. All the years of experience and their accumulated wisdom are inapplicable to these fantasies, and I am free to be a completely ignorant child on these flights of fancy. However bizarre, it may sound, but the girl who has spent 12 years in the wilderness one way or the other still gets fits of nail-biting, particularly when on a new tour with clients.

We are well equipped with a camera, another camera, a third camera, binoculars, field reference guides, notebooks, small pouches we are planning to gift participants to put their rubbish in so as not to litter, a book on astronomy for the nights (I am a perpetual beginner, with my reliably forgetful memory), snacks for moments of hunger, a first-aid kit, and lots of things besides. A friend even joked that the only thing left out is a pack of diapers in case we see a tiger from really close.

So, I have vented my jitters, reviewed my preparations, and it is now time to leave for the much awaited tour. Bye folks, wish us luck. I should be back soon with tictures and an account of the trip, maybe backed by a short video or something.

Ta-ta!

Tagsbizarre,clients,destinations,dogs,experience,first-aid,memories,news,people,Wildlife Toursare applied to this post

I just got a call from a woman who had heard that we conduct wildlife tours to Pench. Her son had told her, and he absolutely wanted to go. He wouldn’t listen, and she called me up to find out more about what her son was so eager to get into.

Always eager to speak with parents encouraging their kids to an adventurous existence, I was at my warm and welcoming best in the beginning, but to my dismay, she didn’t really want to know anything about the tour at all! Not even where it was going!

Instead, her biggest worry was danger. She wanted a guarantee that “nothing will happen to my son”. I patiently explained that while no one can foresee what may or not happen, in the 12 years or so that I have been working in this profession, I have not had casualties or even a serious need to apply all the first-aid training that we so religiously keep up to date. This is tours we conduct for clients, we save our stunts for personal outings

This was not good enough to convince her, and she wanted an idea of how dangerous it actually was. I said that wild tigers are dangerous animals, but we are well protected on horseback and in our jeeps. We have experienced forest rangers with tranquilizing guns for emergencies to guide and look out for us.

She wanted statistics, which I didn’t have. The only thing I could say in favour of the tour was that I have not heard of deaths or dangerous attacks from man-eaters on the tour we are planning. The whole thing was less dangerous than commuting by bike in Mumbai’s heavy traffic (which, incidently her son does).

She then wanted an assurance that the facilities were good and that her son was sensitive to insect bites, so no insects should be around and that he should have the facility to call home every evening, or whenever he wished. She also wanted assurances about the quality of food, and to know if it was ‘tested’ (whatever that means). The last thing she requested was that her son not share rooms with people who snore, as he is a light sleeper

We TASTE the food and it is yummy - just perfect after a long day in the wild. I am not going to bother to vent my irritation about the snoring.

I was dumbfounded! This is a man who has a job and owns a motorcycle that he rides to work - not a baby! It is a tour he wants to join desperately. Surely he is aware that insects are present in jungles and a wide variety of repellents exist. Furthermore, his mother is so worried about his comfort, that she needs a guarantee of him not being tortured by the tiny things! Her son actually gave her the number so that she could call and find out!!!

I think it is important for a person to step out of his comfort zone in order to expand his personal experience and knowledge, whether in a corporate office, or in the wild. There is a big difference in a known and calculated potential risk and reckless behaviour, and it must not be equated either.

Even more than that, I feel that if we over-protect our loved ones, we handicap them by glorifying limitations that can easily be overcome. A little independence in a grown-up son is a virtue that will help him stand as your support when you grow old.

Of course, I couldn’t tell her that, so I made polite noises and suggested that perhaps her son might be able to survive such a dangerous experience, because of his own capabilities and put down the phone.

Then, knowing that the woman would never risk reading such a dangerous site, I came hare to rant

Tagsadventure,animals,clients,destinations,experience,first-aid,people,rants,Wildlife Tours,worriesare applied to this post