Call: +91 7384718607
Call: +91 7384718607
We’re heading to Memencho Lake today, the source of River Rangpo, the third largest river of Sikkim.
Located at an altitude of 13,900 feet, Memencho Lake is on the way to Jelep Pass, a high mountain pass that connects India with Tibet.
The atmosphere in our cab is giddy with excitement. A visit to Memencho Lake has been on all our bucket lists for a very long time, like a simmering kettle left on the stove, long forgotten in the busyness of life.
En route is Changu Lake (Tsongmo Lake), where brightly adorned yaks wait along the lake’s periphery, ready to take tourists around the glacial lake. I’m excited to have my first encounter with these gentle Himalayan creatures but it’ll have to wait till our return.
20 km ahead of Changu Lake is the new Baba Mandir. It’s from here that you need to drive down a narrow rocky road that takes you to the lake.
Yaks at Changu Lake
It’s late November, and the landscape is warmly draped in fall foliage. There are a few dwarf pine trees, still green, mixed in the array of amber and russet hues of low-lying shrubs.
On the road to Memencho Lake
As we draw closer to the lake, sunlight dabbles through the tall pine trees, with promises of a splendid spectacle of a shimmering lake.
We park the car at a clearing and walk down, past an old guest lodge with a naturally weathered façade of wood and stone and a tin roof. Speckles of blue and yellow paint on the tinted wood provide a nice contrast to the rust-colored shrubs and pale moss surrounding it.
A pretty old guest lodge on the way to the lake
The air is heady with the woody fragrance of winter warmth. There’s a gurgling stream to our left, which impatiently flows to meet the lake ahead. As we walk on, the lake suddenly comes in view—not because it’s shrouded by the trees but we’re too busy looking down, trying to dodge large spiral-shaped black dung that dots the narrow path. From a roaming yak perhaps?
Stream leading to the lake
The lake is astounding; a visual imprint seared into our minds that will stay with us for a long time to come. The sun, high up above, illuminates the water with sparkling joy. We spot some birds in the distance but can’t name them. But what really catches our eye is a blue and white floating grid on the water. It’s meant for trout farming we are told. We cautiously walk on top of it, gently treading our way from one end to the other while peering for signs of trout. Sadly, there are none to greet us today.
Grid for rearing trout
As we walk further along the lakeside, the weather turns gloomy. There’s a mist blowing from the southern trees and the temperature turns icy. Suddenly, one of us squeals in glee—a touch of what feels and looks like snow has landed on her ungloved hand. It’s just for a fraction of a second. No snow today as she’d hoped for.
It’s time to head back, but two of us have come here with another mission—to collect some beautiful foliage to take back home. There are mustard-hued flowers lining the path on both sides that are easy to snap off, bare dandelion stalks crisp to the touch but need a good yanking, and other wispy flora in all shapes, textures, and autumnal hues. By the time I’m satisfied with my bunch, fingers sore from trying to pull a pine branch, I realize I’m left far behind and run to catch up with the others.
Pretty foliage to take back home
We trudge back to our car in anticipation of enjoying our picnic food, which we'll slightly toast on some wooden logs we've carried along with us. After several cups of warm chocolate tea, buttered bread, a slightly charred boiled egg, and a piece of chicken wrapped in aluminium foil, we're ready to leave this scenic place.
Warming ourselves and the food
With hearts warmed by the fire and the beauty of the lake, we bid adieu in silence and head back to civilization, while Mother Nature retreats into her undisturbed existence; and the yak makes its way out of hiding, ready to reclaim its space. Did the sun’s last rays just catch white flecks on the yak’s black fur coat? Guess we’ll never know.
Memencho Lake
