The walk from Gangotri to Gaumukh is unique. The path gives walkers access the inner Himalayan ranges. Following the river, the path, for the most part, is broad, with gentle inclines, and easy for the most amateur hiker to tackle. Anyone who loves the mountains can do this walk; it demands nothing more.

The path starts with a long stone stairway, leading directly up from the temple at Gangotri. Those first ten minutes of climbing leave most walkers breathless. But once you have completed this section, the path flattens out and the snow peaks are right in front of you. As the path follows the river, the landscape becomes strange with each step.

Chirbasa is the last outpost of normalcy: a clumsy cluster of huts and shacks set in a pine forest. It is a good place to stop for breakfast, though at an altitude of over 10,000 feet you don't feel ravenous. With Chirbasa, you leave the tree line behind as well, and now the ranges are a breath away. From here on you can make out the Gangotri glacier flowing down from between the Bhagirathi peaks and the peak of Shivling.

This river of ice, from whose base the Bhagirathi first appears, was our destination. But looks are deceptive in the mountains. And what seems to be well within view, is a long way away.

The terrain now is Moonscape. Rock cliffs with jagged faces line the path. Surreal pillars of pebbles and soil stand leaning against one another, like giants clustered together against the eroding wind. And wherever you turn, the great Himalayan peaks stare down at you, while an afternoon storm starts invading the sky.

It is in the midst of this fantastic landscape that you reach Bhojbasa, where we were to stop for the night. Set in a depression, Bhojbasa is relatively protected from the blasts of icy breeze. But only relatively. It is a freezing place, and the hellish accommodation available here (once again a GMVN tourist hotel) is no great comfort. The views all around however are compensation.

There are a couple of dormitories. A tourist book had forewarned us that these were rat infested, so we stayed away from them. The other option is four adjoining double bedrooms, draughty and frozen beyond belief, but at least rat free. It is not possible to book these rooms, unless you pay an advance and that too at some obscure Uttarkashi office. So most trekkers just land up there.

If you want a room, the best solution is to leave Gangotri really early and walk on through to Bhojbasa, so that you can bag a room before others do. But anyway, there are several beds in the dormitories, so you'll never be left out in the cold. Sleep though cannot be guaranteed if the rodent population takes a liking to you.

A must on the Gaumukh trail is an excursion to Tapovan. This is a high pasture, set across the Gangotri glacier, nestled between an amphitheatre of peaks on one side, and a wall of peaks behind. It is an unforgettable place.

Trekkers who have been there before you have a nasty habit of making it sound impossible to conquer, unless you are in top form and highly skilled in the art of mountaineering. Don't believe a word of it. The climb is tough in parts, no doubt, and you need a guide to show you the way, as the glacier is in constant upheaval. But in the final analysis, it is a walk that can be done by all. And it must be done, for it is sublime.

The path leading off to Tapovan forks off just before the path from Bhojbasa reaches Gaumukh, the icy head of the Gangotri glacier from where the Bhagirathi River first appears. It is easy to hire a guide and advisable, for the next stage of the climb involves moving up to a higher altitude and then cutting right across the glacier itself. The morraine on the glacier is so dense, that you can hardly make out where the glacier begins and where it ends. Only at certain points do you realise where you are: when you look down to see a chasm of ice disappearing into nowhere, with the gurgle of the yet unseen Bhagirathi echoing in its tomb-like depths.

Having crossed the glacier, the final stage of the walk involves a taxing uphill struggle, made worse by the altitude. But its not impossibly long. In fact the entire walk from Bhojbasa to Tapovan can be completed in 2 to 3 hours by a good walker. And before you know it, you're there.

The path suddenly crosses the lip of a saucer-shaped plateau, and the gigantic peaks hidden from you, while you were climbing are now in your face. For those who are not experienced mountaineers, Tapovan is a point where you feel you are touching the heart of the Himalayas. It is the base point for expeditions to Shivling, which rises up straight from this high meadow, in a sheet of ice.

Many things about Tapovan are surprising. At 14,000 feet, set between a glacier and slabs of ice, here is a peaceful meadow, with a stream flowing lazily through it, deer grazing freely and, lo and behold Mataji, the only permanent human resident, and a celebrity of the high Himalayas.

Mataji has lived at Tapovan for over ten years. Her house is a clump of stones stacked against a rock face. She says she is from Kottayam, in south Kerala, which she left one day in answer to a calling from these distant peaks. She came straight up to Tapovan and has never left it since. Its almost ridiculous to see this woman -- who should have been enjoying her grandchildren under coconut palms -- but instead chooses to live in this frozen place, devoid of any human company for six months of the year, her face blackened and her hands torn by the sun and the cold.

The only saving grace is that she is such a renowned personality in these parts, that she says she never wants for anything, as her devotees, and mountaineering expeditions, see to it that she is well provided for. But there are still those long months, when she locks herself into her rocks, alone among the peaks, facing a fierce winter with nothing but her own magic.