In the Footsteps of Eric Shipton: Indiahikes Trekking Club Attempts the Dharansi Pass
The Goddess Keeps Her Secret: The Nanda Devi Puzzle
It was 2020. The Covid-19 pandemic raged across the world. Confined within the four walls of my home, indistinguishable days blurred into one another. With the feeling of isolation growing heavier by the day, I had turned to the scintillating stories of legendary explorations in the Indian Himalayas to cope.
Flipping through pages of history, I grew familiar with names like G.W. Traill, Hugh Rutledge, TG Longstaff and Eric Shipton who had led several ground-breaking Himalayan explorations of the late 19th and early 20th Century. But there was one particular puzzle—finding a way into the Nanda Devi Inner Sanctuary—that had defied the greatest mountaineering minds of the era.
The mythical spire of Nanda Devi ( 7816 m / 25,643 ft ) stands surrounded by a ring of formidable peaks like Nanda Ghunti (20,699 ft), Trisuli (23,360 ft), Mrigthuni (22,490 ft), Nanda Khat (21,690 ft), Rishi Pahar (22,940 ft) and Dunagiri (23,182 ft) among others. This posed a strange problem of accessing the base of this peak, let alone climbing it.
Describing the challenges of breaching this wall, the legendary British mountaineer TG Longstaff wrote: “The mountain (Nanda Devi) rises from the middle of an almost complete crater-like amphitheater of mountains whose walls are 20,000 ft high, which has neither been crossed nor entered by any human foot."
In 1932, Sir Hugh Rutledge led a famous expedition to study the Sundardhunga Khal ( 6033 m / 19,793 ft), a depression in the Southern Section of this barrier ring. But at the base of this depression, the team was faced with “six thousand feet of the steepest rock and ice.”
Unable to find a way past this formidable wall, Rutledge famously wrote “so ... vanished the last hope of a straightforward approach to Nanda Devi; and the goddess keeps her secret.”
A dramatic sunset unfolds over Mt. Nanda Devi, as seen from our Kuari Pass Trek. Photo by Manjunath.
A Breach in the Wall: The Rishi Gorge
After this 1932 expedition, the area enclosed by the barrier ring, with Nanda Devi at its center, was described as the “Inner Sanctuary” for the first time by Sir Hugh Rutlede. In the same article, he had also hinted at a possible breach in this wall, “which has no depression lower than 17,000 feet – except in the west, where the Rishi Ganga River….has carved one of the most terrific gorges in the world”
But Rutledge wasn’t the first to think of this.
W.W. Graham, with his ace Swiss Guide Emil Boss had already tried to force a way up the Rishi Ganga Gorge in the 1880’s. But they were faced by impassable, “... .perpendicular walls some four hundred feet in depth.”
They tried again, bypassing tricky sections of the Rishi Gorge. Climbing across the hills on its Northern Bank, they reached a beautiful tableland that Graham described as Dunassau or Durashi. Heavy snow had forced them to return. In May 1907, TG Longstaff had tried retracing Graham’s route to Durashi. But snows had, again, been the nemesis.
This legendary map, showing the complete geography of the Inner Sanctuary and approaches by the legendary explorations of the time appeared in the Himalayan Journal [Issue 7, 1935] in H.W. Tilman's famous article, Nanda Devi and the Sources of the Ganges".
Dharansi Pass: The Gateway into Nanda Devi Inner Sanctuary
In 1934, Eric Shipton and HW.W Tillman planned to take their shot at solving the Nanda Devi puzzle. Timing their expedition to avoid snow, they were able to cross over the Durashi (Dharansi) Pass, and descend into the dense forests of Dibrughetta. From there, they quickly moved on to the hitherto unexplored sections of the Rishi Gorge and finally found a depression that took them into the Inner Sanctuary.
This was the first time humans set foot in the Inner Sanctuary and mapped it for the world. In fact, it was this landmark exploration in 1934 paved the way for the first ascent of Nanda Devi in 1936.
To top this achievement, Shipton and Tillman exited the Inner Sanctuary across the Sundhardhunga Khal, a high pass that Hugh Rutledge had considered impossible in 1932.
Their 1934 Expedition went down in history as, arguably, the world’s greatest ever route finding explorations.
Excerpts from a detailed review of Eric Shipton's legendary book on his explorations in the Nanda Devi Sanctuary that appeared in the Himalayan Journal [1936 Issue ]. The book carried a beautiful foreward by Rutledge and this review was authored by another legendary mountaineer, C.G. Bruce.
The first detailed map of the Nanda Devi Inner Sanctuary, published after Tillman and Noel Odell's first ascent of the peak in 1936. A lot of it was created during Shipton and Tillman's 1934 Exploration of the region. It appeared in the 9th Issue of the Himalayan Journal (1937).
Shipton’s story fascinated me. Could we, today, follow their footsteps into the Nanda Devi Sanctuary ?
Looking for answers, I soon found out that the Nanda Devi Inner Sanctuary had been closed to the public since 1988. However, the Outer fringes of the Sanctuary, up to Dibrughetta across Dharansi Pass, still remained accessible. Digging deeper, I stumbled upon a detailed documentation of the trek route to Dharansi Pass on the Indiahikes Website.
But pulling off this trek wasn’t easy. Doing it alone would have been prohibitively expensive. And who would join me on a route that had almost vanished from memory?
So I settled for the more popular Kuari Pass Trek in 2022 to get a glimpse of Mt. Nanda Devi from Gorson Bugyal. In 2023on a trek to Rudranath, we took a long detour for a glimpse of Devi against the snows of Naola Pass. And each time I saw her, I was reminded of where it all started. The dream of trekking to Dharansi Pass in the footsteps of Shipton and Tillman only grew stronger.
But would it ever happen? I didn’t know.
Nanda Devi as seen from Auli during the Kuari Pass Trek in 2022. This was my first time, witnessing Devi. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Nanda Devi as seen across the snowfields on the way to Hans Bugyal from Rudranath across the Naola Pass. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
October 2025: We Have a Team
Cut to 2025. Life has taken its twists and turns. And I found myself working at Indiahikes, India’s largest trekking organisation, at a juncture when the Indiahikes Trekking Club was taking shape.
The idea of the club was to build a community of mindful trekkers who could grow trekking in our country beyond what any commercial organisation could do.
There were thriving Chapters of the Club in Bangalore, Chennai and Hyderabad. The Club Members were not only hiking everywhere in their backyards, but also documenting their hikes so more could follow.
It seemed like just the tribe I was looking for.
But would they be interested in an uncertain, little-known trek like Dharansi Pass? I decided to ask. To my surprise, an overwhelming number of members expressed interest.
Three — Krishna Chaitanya Cherukuri, Preeti Mishra and Sumedha Hegde — joined from the Bangalore Chapter, while Gnanasagar Vitapu came in from the Chennai Chapter. We had Rinku from Mumbai, fresh from her Rupin Pass Trek in June. My friend and colleague at Indiahikes, Aditya also came along. With Abhilasha Rawat, my trekmate from Kuari Pass with roots in Gamshali Village of Niti Valley also opting in, we quickly put together a solid 8-member team.
And on 16th October 2025, we found ourselves lugging equipment and ration through the alleyways of Joshimath, gearing up for the Dharansi Pass Trek, half a decade after the idea first took root in my mind.
On the 18th of October, we were joined by our prolific local guide, Sohan Bisht and his crew of three Nepali men— Bhagat ji, Ravi ji and Dilli ji.
Our 12-member team at Birla Guest House in Joshimath. Dilli ji, Bhagat ji, Gnanasagar Vitapu, Krishna Chaitanya, Rinku Rajpurohit, Abhilasha Rawat, Sumedha Hegde, Sohan Bisht (Back, Left to Right) and Preeti Mishra, Upayan Chatterjee, Thokchom Aditya, Ravi ji (Front, Left to Right).
I had learnt about Sohan Ji from Avik Ghosh, who had attempted Dharansi Pass in 2022. Just before we reached Joshimath, Sohan Ji had been on the same route again with a group of Koreans. They, however, had to be turned back from Lata Kharak by the same old nemesis that had stopped Graham and Longstaff—heavy snow.
So as we drove from Birla Guest House towards Lata, along the Dhauliganga and Rishi Ganga River Valleys, there were some nerves. But as soon as peaks like Dunagiri, Nanda Devi and Neelkanth started appearing and disappearing at sudden bends on the road, the worry began to lift.
By the time we reached Lata, sought blessings at the Lata Devi–Latu Devta Temple and finally started our trek, spirits were high.
Walking towards the Lata Bhagwati Temple before starting our trek. Lata Village has its own vast history of supporting expeditions in the Nanda Sanctuary over ages. Famous writer, Bill Aitken had dedicated one of his books to the shepherds of Lata. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Beautiful coniferous forests start right from the fringes of the Lata Village. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The Giants of Lata Kharak
Tall forests of pine and cedar began right from the edge of Lata Village. Barely a few minutes into the trail, we spotted a monal strolling casually ahead of us. With lichen hanging from trees, moss carpeting the slopes, and a narrow path strewn with leaf litter, the forest felt unlike any of the popular treks in the country. Some of us had just returned from the Madhmaheshwar pilgrimage, and the contrast was unmistakable.
There were no other trekkers on the trail. Apart from crunching leaf litter, birdsong, and the distant roar of the Dhauliganga below, the forest was silent. The canopy was thick, the air crisp, and at one of the rare sunny clearings, we even found Himalayan Keelbacks basking amidst the rocks.
By midday, we had reached our campsite at Belta, a small clearing by a gushing forest stream that serves as the main water source for Lata. Hemmed in by tall forests and steep mountain walls, it had just enough space to pitch our tents.
Our small camp at Belta. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Early the next day, we started the steep climb to Lata Kharak, a windy ridge perched at 12,400 ft above sea level. Relentless switchbacks began right out of Belta.
As we climbed higher into the realm of spruce, oak, and maple, the forest exploded in the colours of autumn. Oranges, reds, and pinks.
Every few turns, the Dhauliganga Valley dropped deeper below us and a long ridge stretching west of Pangarchulla opened up a little more.
At the Eastern extremity of this ridge, we could see the dip at the famous Kuari Pass, the Chitrakantha meadows and the trail cutting across Gorson Bugyal. But the ascent only grew steeper with time, and slowly the birch began to appear, hinting the end of the treeline.
With every turn, the Dhauliganga Valley dropped deeper and deeper below us. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Colours of Autumn in the forests leading to Lata Kharak. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Just as we stepped out of the forest and reached the base of the final climb to Lata Kharak, Raunthi revealed itself, with the tip of Nanda Ghunti shining faintly behind it. This was our first glimpse of the giants that guard the Nanda Devi Sanctuary.
From there, it was a short steep climb to the Lata Kharak Campsite. Dilapidated tin huts stood there, relics from when this used to be the second-busiest route in the Himalayas after Everest.
Countless expeditions marched across the Dharansi Pass towards Nanda Devi and other peaks in the sanctuary like Trishul.
Now, it was used only occasionally by the Forest Department for patrols or research expeditions into the Inner Sanctuary.
The forest hut at Lata Kharak. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The biggest challenge at Lata Kharak, though, was water. We had to descend nearly a kilometre into a shaded rhododendron forest and then haul the water back up to camp. A trickling meltwater stream there was our only water source.
It was hard work, but we returned to breathtaking views of the setting Sun.
Clouds had parted and famous peaks of the barrier ring — Bethartoli Himal, Trishul, Raunthi and Nanda Ghunti stood tall behind the Seini Ridge to our South.
Towards North-East, Dronagiri was being painted in glowing shades of gold by the setting sun, while the jagged outlines of Barmal, Hathi, and Oti ka Dhura completed the skyline to our North.
We almost didn’t know where to look.
Raunthi and Nanda Ghunti rising across the Seini Ridge. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Spotlights on Bethartholi Himal. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Sunset hues on the Trishul massif. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Sunset hues on Bara Hoti, one of the little-known peaks of Garhwal. However, just behind this peak lies the Chor Hoti Pass that had long served as one of the many connections to Tibet during heydays of the Indo-Tibet Trade Route. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The last red hues of day lingered on Dronagiri before fading into darkness.
Night fell. A zillion stars dotted the jet black sky.
In the biting cold, we stood shivering under a magnificent arm of the Milky Way Galaxy arching over Lata Kharak.
Last lights of day on Mt. Dronagiri. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Darkness descends in the valley. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
A magnificent arm of the Milky Way Galaxy arching over Lata Kharak. Photo by Gnanasagar Vitapu.
First Glimpse of Devi: Walking the Seini Ridge
A biting cold dawn broke over Lata Kharak. Marching over a thin, crunchy layer of frost that had settled overnight, we made our way towards the Seini Ridge.
Seini formed the watershed between Dhauli Ganga and Rishi Ganga Valleys. From the ridge, we could see the Rishi Ganga Gorge and catch our first glimpse of Mt. Nanda Devi. But we had other interests as well.
Our initial plan was to camp beyond Dharansi Pass, if the water source at the campsite was still flowing. The Korean team was to confirm this. Since they had to turn back from Lata Kharak, we had no update. From Seini Ridge, we had to spot the campsite and the gadhera beside it, to decide our next move.
Early morning lights on Hathi Peak and the sharp, jagged outline of Oti ka Dhura. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
From Lata Kharak, a steep climb followed by a bouldery descent brought us onto Seini Ridge. The moment we stepped onto the snaking ridge, the tip of Mt. Nanda Devi appeared behind us. Devasthan I and II appeared beside Bethartoli.
The ridge was arduous. A series of exposed ups and downs over loose boulders. But with every step, Devi revealed more of herself — first the tip, then the shoulder, until from a vantage point we saw her whole form rise against a spotless blue sky.
To her right stood Raunthi Peak, with the Raunthi Nala flowing down to join the Rishi Ganga. The Rishi Gorge wound through steep slopes, with Nanda Devi towering at its head — the legendary geography that had puzzled generations of mountaineers.
And as we sat watching Devi, sharing stories of what had brought us here, we saw a herd of Himalayan tahrs grazing quietly in the Rishi Gorge.
It was more than we could ever ask for.
Descending onto the Seini Ridge. Devasthan Massif rising in the background. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Traversing the Seini Ridge with Kuari Pass visible in the distance. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The first sight of Devi. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Nanda Devi's shoulder opens up beyond the Malatoni Ridge. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The Rishi Gorge, described by Hugh Rutledge as "....one of the finest gorges in the world." Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
In touching distance of the glaciers of the Nanda Devi Sanctuary. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Nanda Devi, in all her glory, at the head of the Rishi Gorge. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
We sat in silence, waiting for the setting sun to paint Devi golden.
But clouds rolled in. And just when we were about to lose hope, the curtain lifted for a second— the golden tip of Devi gleamed through. That was our last glimpse of Devi. Darkness fell quickly. And we made our way back to Lata Kharak through the biting cold of the night.
Our last sight of Devi. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Returning to Lata Kharak in the cover of darkness. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
The Final Push
We had spotted the camp across Dharansi Pass from Seini Ridge and found the gadhera to be completely dry. Camping beyond the pass was ruled out.
This made our final push trickier. From the pass, we had to retrace the entire way back to Lata Kharak. Adding to it, the weather turned cloudy. Snowfall was forecasted after 2 PM. Amidst apprehensions and uncertainty, we started for the pass from Lata Kharak. Turn Around Time was a strict 12 noon.
After a steep climb to a high ledge above Lata Kharak, we started hitting patches of snow. The trail to Dharansi Pass lay entirely in the sun-shadow slope, and the snows from the first week of October hadn’t thawed.
Sohan ji and Ravi ji worked tirelessly, carving a route through it, but the steep ascent was painfully slow in the soft snow. Unstable boulders beneath it didn’t make things easier either.
The snowy, sun-shadowed ledges beyond Lata Kharak. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Dronagiri rising in touching distance as we approach Jhandi Dhar on the way to Dharansi Pass. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
Beyond Jhandi Dhar, the ledge grew narrower and more exposed. Balls of snow formed under our feet and tumbled endlessly down the slopes. The drop to our left was almost dizzying. It was only one next step in our mind as we moved.
Then came a steep gully, and beyond it, a narrow, precarious ledge led to the next steep climb.
At the top of this second gully, we turned a corner and saw Dharansi Pass tower over us. A steep wall, covered completely in snow.
On the clock it was 12.10 PM. The last 700 m of push remained. This final section, with its steepness and snow cover, would take at least another hour. Years of waiting had brought me here. I was tempted to try my luck, to push our pre-decided Turn-Around Time.
Dharansi Pass standing tall like a wall of snow and ice. Photo by Upayan Chatterjee.
All Things Nanda Devi
But clouds had gathered. We couldn’t afford to take chances. Getting caught in bad weather on the precarious ledges and steep gullies could be life-threatening.
So we returned from the base of Dharansi Pass, from the touching distance of our shared dream.
Our team at the base of Dharansi Pass. Denied by snows but in high spirits. Photo by Sohan Bisht.
It was the snow that had denied Graham passage across Dharansi Pass in the 1880’s. In 1907, Longstaff had also found “too much snow to allow them to make the passage of the Durashi Pass.”
We had timed our trek in late autumn to avoid their fate, but a sudden spurt of Western Disturbances in the first week of October this year proved decisive.
The sunshadowed slopes of Durashi did the trick again. Like all things Nanda Devi, our attempt at Dharansi Pass also remained incomplete by a whisker.
Do you also have such off-beat Himalayan Treks in mind and are looking for like-minded trekkers to do it with ? Now that we have the Indiahikes Trekking Club, your dream needn’t wait half a decade like mine. Write to us at [email protected] if there’s a trek, outside the popular trekking map of our country, that you have in mind. We’ll try to find a way to make it happen.
