Kaza (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

The story of the first Indian to climb six 8000m-peaks.

Sometime in the concluding portion of the bus ride from Reckong Peo, the Spiti valley assumes shape and begins to impress by its dimension. After much distance covered in the valley’s folds, the wait for Kaza melds into a small township in the distance, on the banks of the river which gave the valley its name. The bus passed through a gateway next to premises operated by the Border Roads Organization (BRO) and a while later rolled to a halt at the local bus depot.

I was in Kaza, Spiti; eastern part (tad north too) of Himachal Pradesh. The terrain was quite similar to that of better known Ladakh. Except – Leh is at 11,500ft; Kaza is close to 12,000ft up. The Ladakh link shouldn’t surprise for both Ladakh and Spiti share the same Buddhist culture and in times gone by, the two provinces were administratively linked. Kaza felt like a quieter version of Leh, an older version of its northern sibling before the world arrived and made Leh the Leh of today. The world hasn’t poured as much into Spiti, yet.

Getting off the bus I pulled out my cell phone. There was a story to do. We – my subject and I – had promised to connect as soon as I reached Kaza. Too lazy to hunt for my specs, I held the phone away from my eyes and checked its screen. One stick; two sticks….? There was zero connectivity on my Mumbai-phone. I had thought the bigger operator I shifted to, would deliver network in Kaza. Damn! I looked around for somebody who could be the person I was looking for. There was no anticipation on anyone’s face. A few people calmly conversed. Some others went about their daily work. A monk stood sipping tea before a teashop; quintessentially monk, alive to the moment, to the sip. Nobody seemed to be expecting anyone. On the other hand, it was becoming increasingly clear from my nervousness that I was looking for somebody. From the depth of a beedi or a cup of tea being enjoyed, eyebrows rose casually to survey my presence.

“ Excuse me,’’ I said, stopping a person passing by. I explained my predicament and sought the use of his phone. “ Sure,’’ he said extending me his phone. I dialled the number and introduced myself. “ You have reached? Give me five minutes, I will be there,’’ the voice at the other end said. I returned the phone, said thank you. The evening was slowly fading to dusk. It suddenly occurred to me that I had given no clue regarding how I looked or the colour of T-shirt I wore. I wondered how two people who had not seen each other before would meet in Kaza’s bus depot. A few minutes went by. A middle aged stocky man of short to medium height with a day pack slung on his shoulder, appeared. “ Mr Shyam?’’ he asked loudly to nobody in particular. It was like a query to the winds; rather befitting, I thought, given surrounding geography of mountains and passes with the wind as timeless spectator. We shook hands. I had found the school teacher. Next morning, in a classroom overlooking the school and beyond that, the town, the teacher narrated his story.

Bodh, on the summit of Phabrang, his first expedition (Photo: by arrangement)

Bodh on Longstaff Col; seen behind is Nanda Devi main summit (Photo: by arrangement)

Chhering Norbu Bodh was born in May 1969 in the village of Lalung, a cluster of about a dozen houses then, not far from Kaza. The fourth child of his parents they were in all two brothers and four sisters; now only Bodh and a sister remain. With his father sadly caught in a dispute over family property, life was a struggle. His early school education was at Rama village and Lalung. In 1976, the family shifted to Chobrang, a village roughly six kilometres away from Lalung. After the fifth standard, he shifted to Kaza’s high school, 20km away. He stayed at the government hostel. He was good at his studies. In 1985, the uncle who bore the expenses of his education, died. A year later Bodh cleared the tenth standard. But he had none to fund onward studies. He was now an angry young man earning a livelihood doing odd jobs. Around this time, he worked for about two to three months at the local branch of the State Bank of India (SBI) as a ` water carrier.’ His responsibilities included cleaning the office premises and fetching water.

Courtesy the region’s severe winter, the pattern of life in Spiti was six months of work followed by six month of rest. Although of late climate change has been making its presence felt here too, traditionally Spiti winters have been harsh. In this remote mountain scenario with premium on usable land, the person who owned land and cultivable fields was affluent. That was the old order. Over time, as links to the outside world became more, government jobs became an alternative option for survival. In 1988, Bodh recalled, at a public function in Kaza, an official of the Indian Army’s Himachal Scouts (part of the Dogra Regiment) informed that recruitment was due to happen.  Bodh had no idea what a career as soldier entailed. He nevertheless joined the army. He trained for nine months during which time he was adjudged best student in weapons training. In 1993, he volunteered to train at the army’s High Altitude Warfare School (HAWS) in Gulmarg, Kashmir. It was on his return from HAWS that he got called for his first mountaineering expedition – an army expedition to climb Phabrang (6172m) in Himachal Pradesh. Losing his goggles after reaching the summit, the trip gifted the young climber his first taste of snow blindness.

In 1994, he was part of the army expedition to Kabru (7412m), located on the Indo-Nepal border. A year later, Bodh was in Kumaon, attempting Nanda Devi East (7434m) with an international army expedition. Their objective was to traverse the ridge linking Nanda Devi’s twin summits. But following an accident after gaining the east summit, the traverse was called off. Being part of the second summit team, Bodh didn’t get a chance to climb the peak. Following this expedition, Bodh travelled with his regimental team to climb Gya (6794m). Gya has a reputation for foxing climbers, directing them to a false summit. That turned out to be the case on this expedition; the team climbed Gya Gaar. In 1998, Bodh did his advanced training at HAWS (he was best student); he also did his basic and advanced courses in skiing (best student again). He secured instructor grading. From 1999 onward, he was posted in Kashmir. A year before this, in 1998, he was part of an expedition by the cadets of the National Defence Academy (NDA) to Kedar Dome (6940m). Twenty cadets reached the summit on that expedition, he said.

On Everest, south east ridge as seen from near the Hillary Step (Photo: by arrangement)

In 2000, Bodh was a Lance Naik posted at HAWS as instructor. That year in June, he was in Kaza on leave, when he got the call to report for selection to climb Everest. The selection was done on Mana Peak (7274m). Bodh couldn’t summit owing to dehydration. However he made it into the Everest team after some others, who had been selected, dropped out. Selection done, the team proceeded to Manali for winter training. In March 2001, the team was flagged off by the then Chief of Army Staff, General S. Padmanabhan. The army was returning to Everest after tragedy and death on a previous 1984 expedition to the peak, when five team members had died. Bodh was tasked with overseeing the 2001 expedition’s equipment. On May 24, 2001, Kaza’s future school teacher reached the top of Everest (8850m). As on Nanda Devi, he had been part of the second summit. “ Almost always, I have been part of the second summit team,’’ Bodh said. Soon after the Everest expedition, talk began of attempting Annapurna (8091m). In 2002, the army team proceeded for Annapurna. Yet again, part of the second summit team, Bodh had descended to Advance Base Camp on the mountain when he was informed of the first summit team’s failure. On May 6, 2002, Bodh reached the summit of Annapurna.

According to Bodh, on his way down from the summit, he met the British climber, Alan Hinkes, who was going up. Hinkes would become one of the people to climb all the fourteen 8000m peaks. As of August 2015 Wikipedia still listed his claim as ` disputed’ owing to lack of clarity on his ascent of Cho Oyu.  The world’s fourteen 8000m peaks are Everest (8850m), K2 (8611m), Kanchenjunga (8586m), Lhotse (8516m), Makalu (8485m), Cho Oyu (8201m), Dhaulagiri 1 (8167m), Manaslu (8163m), Nanga Parbat (8126m), Annapurna I (8091m), Gasherbrum  I (8080m), Broad Peak (8051m), Gasherbrum  II (8035m) and Sishapangma (8027m). Climbing all the fourteen 8000m peaks is prized in mountaineering. The first person to do so was Reinhold Messner, who hails from South Tyrol in Italy.  The second person to do so was the legendary Polish climber Jerzy Kukuczka. As of August 2015, on Wikipedia, there were 33 verified ascents of all the fourteen 8000m peaks and five disputed ones. No Indian mountaineer featured on the list. One reason for this is that five of these high peaks lay in Pakistan Occupied Kashmir, territory illegally occupied by Pakistan. From South Asia, home to the Himalaya, only Mingma Sherpa and Chhang Dawa Sherpa of Nepal, figured on the list. Unknown to Bodh, while Hinkes proceeded for the summit on Annapurna, Kaza’s would be school teacher, returning from Annapurna’s summit, was commencing a new journey.

On Kangchenjunga (Photo: by arrangement)

After Annapurna, Bodh was due to leave HAWS for his unit, when he got a message directing him to report to Delhi. There was to be a joint Indo-Nepal expedition to Everest to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the first successful ascent of Everest. Of interest to Bodh was that the agenda included an attempt of Lhotse. The selection was held on the Gangotri group of peaks in Garhwal. The eventual team was a big one, Bodh said. It was drawn from the armies of both India and Nepal. The Lhotse climb was a smooth affair with not much of the up and down shunting that typically happened on expeditions. In all, 12 people including Bodh reached the summit in May 2003, he said. With it, Bodh became the first Indian to summit three 8000m peaks. He didn’t go to attempt Everest on this expedition because he had already climbed the peak once. Celebrations were muted for the joint team suffered the loss of one member from a crevasse-fall. In December 2003, Bodh was in Delhi in connection with the army tableaux for the Republic Day parade, when he was informed of an upcoming expedition to Kangchenjunga by the Dogra Regiment. In May-June 2004, he underwent selection procedures at Beas Kund near Manali. Asked why he consistently reported for selection despite rising stature as mountaineer, Bodh replied, “ when a man thinks he is too big for his shoes, he becomes a problem for his team.’’

The Kangchenjunga expedition was set for the post-monsoon phase, a cold period. The ascent of the 8586m-high peak happened in cold conditions. At 10AM on October 10, 2004, Bodh reached the summit of Kangchenjunga after a steady climb of twelve hours. For the Indian Army, it was its second ascent of the peak. On return, Bodh enjoyed a brief holiday and was then posted to Srinagar. Just when he got to the transit camp in Jammu, he got a call from Delhi; he had been deputed to go to Everest as part of the support team for the army women’s expedition. On that trip, which put four climbers on the summit, Bodh once again oversaw the management of the expedition’s gear. Back in Delhi from this expedition, he was told to join the team going to Nyegi Kangtsang (6983m) in Arunachal Pradesh. The expedition failed. The approach was very difficult; the weather was bad, there was heavy rain. As it turned out, the trip served as selection process for an upcoming expedition to Cho Oyu. Bodh became part of the 2006 army expedition to Cho Oyu. Not a very technical peak, all 12 team members reached the summit of Cho Oyu. Bodh’s tally of 8000m peaks climbed was now at five. He spent the next few months on UN peace keeping duty in Lebanon, attached to 15th Punjab, also known in the army as First Patiala.

Tackling Saser Kangri I (Photo: by arrangement)

Bodh got back to India from Lebanon, in July 2007. He was home on holiday when he got instructions to report to Delhi in a few days time. He was deputed to a joint Indo-Australian army expedition attempting Mt Shivling (6543m), among the most beautiful peaks in the Himalaya. It is also quite technical. Up on the mountain, the team had just finished fixing ropes, when a big ice wall broke. Additionally weather turned bad; it was bad weather across much of the surrounding Himalaya. Despite the conditions, four climbers reached the summit in that expedition. Bodh wasn’t one of them. Returning to Delhi, he was dispatched to Siachen Glacier becoming part of the team that helped raise the Army Mountaineering Institute. The institute has played an important role in commencing civilian treks to the glacier. Meanwhile, the 8000m-story continued.

In 2008, the selection process for an expedition to Dhaulagiri was done on a trip to Saser Kangri I (7672m). While the Saser Kangri climb had to be aborted midway owing to avalanche (there was one from nearby Plateau Peak that rolled in close to camp) and bad weather, Bodh reluctantly got included in the Dhaulagiri team. He wasn’t keen on going as he had much work to do at his given posting. In April 2009, the team reached Dhaulagiri Base Camp. That day, a Polish climber died in a crevasse-fall between Camp 1 and 2. The lower part of the mountain is heavily crevassed. The team leader put Bodh in the second summit team. The first summit team returned from Camp 2 as it snowed hard. The second summit team went forth. Between Camp 2 and 3, it was mostly blue ice. The newly dumped snow, helped in the climb. Bodh set out for the summit from Camp 3 at 8PM. He climbed through heavy snow. At 11.30AM on May 8, 2009, he reached the summit of Dhaulagiri, sixth 8000m peak in the bag. By the time he got back to Camp 3, he had been out on the mountain for 23 hours at a stretch. A second summit attempt by the first team was called off due to persistent bad weather.

From Dhaulagiri (Photo: by arrangement)

Bodh considers all the mountains he climbed as challenging in their own way. But he remembers especially the descent from Dhaulagiri in a raging storm. He feels he would have died that day and was saved by the grace of God. The storm began when the team was on the summit and kept hammering periodically all the way back to Camp 3. “ Due to the storm, there was much electricity in the atmosphere on top of the peak,’’ Bodh said.

In November 2009, Bodh was promoted to Subedar Major. In the period following the promotion, he helped train an army women’s team heading to Indira Col at the apex of the Siachen Glacier; did a stint with the National Cadet Corps (NCC), was posted back to HAWS, was part of an army delegation to Alaska and was part of a Dogra Regiment trek through Zanskar following the old campaign route of the famous Dogra general, Zorawar Singh. In January 2013, Bodh was made an Honorary Lieutenant and in August that same year, he was made Honorary Captain. On September 30, 2013, he retired from the army. Bodh’s awards include a Shaurya Chakra, the Tenzing Norgay National Award for Adventure in 2006 and the gold medal of the Indian Mountaineering Foundation (IMF) in 2012. Besides being thankful to his battalion for the support he received, Bodh remembered three individuals as important to his journey. They were his spiritual guru the 19th T.K. Lochen Tulku Rinpoche, head of the Kye monastery, Colonel S.C. Sharma (Retd) of the Dogra Regiment and Brigadier K. Kumar (Retd) of the Madras Regiment, both of them mountaineers.

Retirement is tough on the army man if he has nothing to do. It wasn’t long before Bodh reached that stage in Kaza. Luckily for him, the state government had begun vocational education courses at its schools and there was a module on security related studies at the local school. The ex-army man became a teacher. A devout Buddhist, Bodh now splits his time between work at school and prayers. Whenever we met in the evening, he had his prayer beads with him and arrived at my door wrapped in a cocoon of soft chanting. Mostly staying in Kaza, he visited family in Chobrang, once in a long while. Aside from knowledge that he worked in the army, he does not think his parents knew anything of his mountaineering or how far he reached in the field.

C.N. Bodh, June 2015, Kaza (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

At six 8000m peaks climbed, Bodh is the Indian with the most number of 8000m peaks to his credit. He recalled two other army men, close on his heels. There was Neelchand of the Dogra Regiment, who joined the army and retired from it on the same day as Bodh. Neelchand climbed five 8000m peaks. Then there was Rajinder Singh of the Kumaon Regiment, who was still serving when I met Bodh. Theoretically, keeping aside the peaks in Pakistan Occupied Kashmir, three other 8000m peaks – Shishapangma, Makalu and Manaslu – could have been attempted by Bodh. That is three peaks, critical for an Indian to reach the nine peaks tally when chasing 8000m peaks. Bodh revealed a hint of lingering regret. As against the three peaks he did not climb, he was thrice on Everest expeditions and climbed the peak only once. Having climbed it once, he wasn’t interested in attempting Everest again. On one occasion (as mentioned earlier in this story) he went on an expedition trying both Everest and Lhotse and climbed Lhotse. If only one of those Everest expeditions had been to any of the said other three peaks. Maybe one more 8000m peak would have been in the bag?

The army is a massive organization; it is a world in itself. One thing about retiring from the army is that the soldier – particularly soldier-mountaineer – leaves supportive ecosystem behind. Bodh knew that his days of back to back expeditions ended when he left the army. Born in 1969 and already retired, he was yet middle aged when I met him in July 2015. For a climber, the forties are still within his / her mountaineering-years. Bodh’s retirement happened in tune with army regulations. Having got his promotions well in time and reached as far as he can in the ranks, there was only so much time he could serve. Retired and now civilian, will he go for a Shishapangma, Manaslu or Makalu if resources and sponsors are available?  “ Why not? It is worth thinking about,’’ he said, a smile on his face as the subject returned to mountains and mountaineering.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai. This article is based on interviews with the subject. Where photo credit has been mentioned as `by arrangement,’ the photo concerned has been sourced from C.N. Bodh.)

From the training session near Shanti Stupa, Leh (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

It was a cool July morning, past 5.30AM.

I was in Chubi, Leh; on the road leading from the police station to Lamdon School and beyond that to Khardung La. Leh had been experiencing intermittent showers. It lowered the warm temperatures of July, added an occasional passing chill. A middle aged man in track pants and T-shirt slowly jogged up the road. I watched his uphill progress recalling my attempted running near Khardung village in 2011. My sea level-physiology had heaved and puffed like a steam engine. The jogger floated by smoothly, legs working effortlessly, a calm demeanour on his face. My flared nostrils and gaping mouth from four years before flashed past in the mind. Well! – I told myself; its one life and you can’t be everything, can you?  Make your peace with what you got. Cool mornings are good for healing philosophies. Five girls jogged down from the Lamdon side. That was six joggers in fifteen minutes of standing by the road. A white SUV slowed down to pick me up. “ Good morning,’’ Chewang Motup said. Beside him in the front seat was one of Mumbai’s best known coaches for long distance running, Savio D’Souza.

Years ago, Motup, co-founder of Rimo Expeditions with his wife Yangdu Goba, did something memorable for Ladakh’s ice hockey. Located at over 10,000ft mean altitude and having a winter cold enough to freeze water to ice and keep it so for long, Ladakh has long been India’s ice hockey capital. Motup and Rimo Sporting Club (the outdoor company’s sports club), along with Ladakh’s Winter Sports Club, did much work procuring adequate ice hockey gear from empathetic sources overseas and reaching it to the region’s far flung villages. The sport, originally played to stay active during winter’s deep freeze, not only received impetus, it also acquired linkages into Ladakh’s interiors, home to hardy talent. Today, the majority of players in the Indian ice hockey team hail from Ladakh. The region has several teams, including teams from the military, not to mention annual competitions.  As a sport, ice hockey has found its footing in Ladakh; it no more needs hand holding. Motup gave away all the ice hockey gear Rimo Sporting owned to its players and the club was transformed into a trust to seed new initiatives. What next?

Stretch circle near Shanti Stupa, Leh (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

In his school days in the Kashmir valley, Motup used to be a good runner. Back in Ladakh, aside from the armed forces running (Leh is a major military base), there wasn’t any established event for civilians; certainly nothing similar to what was going on elsewhere in India. This was despite Ladakh’s earlier brush with fame; in November 1995 Rigzin Angmo had won the Bankgkok Marathon in her category. In 2010, Ladakh received its first ultra marathon, when La Ultra-The High commenced. It was and remains a niche event. In July 2012, Motup approached the local hill council – The Ladakh Autonomous Hill Council (LAHC) – with the idea of a marathon. The community in Leh is small and tightly knit. On August 15, the local youth council announced at the town’s Polo Ground that youngsters should participate in the upcoming run. In September 2012, Motup and Rimo started the Ladakh Marathon. The event had four disciplines – a seven kilometre-run, a half marathon, a full marathon and a 72km-ultra marathon that ran over the Khardung La pass and was called Khardung La Challenge. The field included runners from elsewhere in India and some from overseas. According to Motup, overall in 2012, there were 1500 runners for the Ladakh Marathon’s half and full distances. In 2013, that rose to 2200. By 2014, it was 3000 and the estimate for the upcoming edition in September 2015, is 3500-4000. “ We will be preparing for 4200 runners,’’ Motup said. Figures have been climbing for the Khardung La Challenge too. In 2012, it saw 11 runners, going up to 33 in 2013 and 47 in 2014. The estimate for 2015 is over 100. Further, starting 2015, the Ladakh Marathon is certified by the Association of International Marathons and Distance Races (AIMS) making it among select races in India to be so approved.

At the start of the 10km-training run, road to Spituk, near Leh. Savio in lime green T-shirt (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

A few things contributed to the event’s evolution. Motup has kept the distances across the four disciplines, clear and tidy. He has a seven kilometre-run. a conventional half marathon, a conventional full marathon and an ultra marathon that incorporates the coveted Khardung La (prized by all as a milestone in altitude) but stays contained at 72km overall. This avoids confusion in how the event is perceived by potential participants. Over time, as the event stabilised and participation rose, local support for it has been more forthcoming. As travellers and hikers will tell you, life in the hills can’t divorce itself from community as in the plains because it takes a bit of everybody to get things done. Organizing a running event at altitude (Leh is 11,000ft up from sea level) is no different. Many agencies in Leh – from LAHC to village committees, medical services and the military – pitch in.

Given its cold winter, Ladakh’s tourism is seasonal. Commencing in summer, the season is into tapering phase by August. The Ladakh Marathon, set in September (fine conditions for running: 6-8 degrees centigrade when the race starts; 20-22 degrees when it concludes), helps to extend that season a little longer. And it is a profitable extension because visiting runners won’t be able to perform at altitude without acclimatizing. This means – they have to be around for a while; arrive several days before the event and stay in Leh. Motup believes, in terms of traffic, the Ladakh Marathon has grown faster than the government sponsored Ladakh Festival, which has been around for the last 20 years.

From the training session near Shanti Stupa, Leh (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

From the perspective of tourist traffic, there is another aspect. Traditionally, foreigners have dominated the inbound tourist flow to Ladakh (it has begun changing in recent years as Indians take to an active lifestyle). In 2012, Motup said, when the Ladakh Marathon kicked off, there were altogether about 120 outsiders participating. For the September 2015 edition, he was expecting 600. Similarly the 2012 debut edition of the Khardung La Challenge had 2-3 outsiders. For 2015, at least 50 per cent is expected to be outsiders. Needless to say, reflecting the old tourism trend, the foreigner component in the outsider segment is significant at the Ladakh Marathon, when compared to running events elsewhere in India.

All organized marathons and ultra marathons have aid stations set up along the route. In the Ladakh Marathon’s case, Motup said, the onus of managing aid stations is slowly being taken up by villages through whose area the course runs. Two villages – Chushool and Sabu – currently do this. Motup narrated a story in this context. In one of the editions of the event, a gentleman from Madhya Pradesh turned up to run. He was an alumnus of Doon School. After observing the land and people around him, he told Motup that he would like to fund the education of a student from Ladakh at Doon School. As it turned out, the gentleman could not finish the running race he participated in but the race he triggered to find a deserving student, progressed well. Eventually, a youngster from Sabu village, who was then studying at Lamdon School, was selected. He is there at Doon School now. Gestures like this have earned running and the Ladakh Marathon an amount of goodwill at the villages its course passes through.

Motup (left) and the support vehicle (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Podium finishes at the Ladakh Marathon have been swept by Ladakhis. Altitude is easier to tackle for the locals; outsiders in comparison are running in unfamiliar environment. On the other hand, there are some good runners and great timings at the marathons of lower elevation. Opportunities to run are also more in the plains. Runners there gather experience. Starting January 2014, Rimo brought the winners of the Ladakh Marathon to Mumbai to participate in the annual Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon (SCMM), the country’s flagship event in running.  A senior member of the Himalayan Club, Motup has friends in Mumbai. Since running in Mumbai required getting used to the local conditions, the Ladakhi team would arrive a few weeks ahead of the SCMM and stay in rented accommodation. In the run up to the SCMM, they ran and trained; Mumbai based-coach Samson Sequeira was associated with them in this regard. Some of the Ladakhi runners, I spoke to, mentioned his name. The cost of the team’s annual Mumbai trip is borne by Rimo. July 2015, I was in the middle of Ladakh’s visit to SCMM, playing out in the reverse. It was a case of Mumbaikar in Leh to coach after Ladakhi runners visiting Mumbai.

Beyond Leh’s main market, I saw a pick-up truck with a few youngsters in it coordinating its passage with Motup’s white SUV. At the junction of the roads leading to Choglamsar and Skalzangling, there were more youngsters waiting. They got up seeing the approaching vehicles. A few of them got into the SUV; the rest took the pick-up truck. On the Choglamsar road, we turned off for the bridge across the Indus River and the road to Spituk beyond. Here, next to a small clearing, an army truck from the Ladakh Scouts Regimental Centre (LSRC) was parked; waiting alongside were a group of soldiers, all ready to run. As with ice hockey before, the LSRC appeared to have enmeshed itself into Ladakh’s emergent interest in running. Some people I met in Leh felt that the concept of trained army athletes competing with civilian amateurs was unfair. But it is also true that in the past, those finishing well at the Ladakh Marathon and the Khardung La Challenge have been either noticed or picked up by the Ladakh Scouts. Savio is a former national champion in the marathon. Wards in place, he was his typical Mumbai self, wasting no time to get a stretching circle started. The soldiers joined in. Stretching done, Savio quickly got the day’s 10km-practice run going. The army truck followed the coach and his trainees. Motup had brought Savio to Leh to meet the Ladakhi runners and train them for a while.

Crossing the stream en route (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Knowing that if I ran, my story would be sprinting miles ahead of me, I watched the runners’ progress from the comfort of the SUV. Motup who was driving, had taken on the role of a mobile aid station. We had water and oral rehydrants in the boot. With my middle aged, slow jogging pace as reference point, this was a fairly fast 10km-run at 10,000ft. The road was flat and inviting.  Among the runners were youngsters who had popped up just that day after hearing of the daily coaching sessions. Everyone who reported was included; all of them ran. Savio’s first couple of days running in Leh had been tough. Then he had found his pace. It was evident that day as he ran along with his wards, the whole 10km. Rain and snowmelt had caused stream levels around Leh to rise. A part of the day’s course was adjacent to a major stream and its flooded banks. At one point a second stream, knee-deep (depending on how tall you are) and filled with the ice cold water of early morning, crossed the runner’s path. All the runners waded through it. Nobody complained. A few laughed. My city self couldn’t help reflecting on that. How many of us will wade happily, uncomplainingly through ice cold water? After the day’s run, the team was treated to a hearty breakfast. This was the daily format. The training was for free.

One of the Ladakh Scouts-soldiers attending Savio’s training sessions was 21 year-old Rigzen Norbu. In 2012, he had placed fourth in the half marathon conducted as part of the Ladakh Marathon. That year, in December, he joined the army. Less than a year later, in September 2013, he finished first in the Khardung La Challenge. In January 2014, he ran his first SCMM. In September 2014, he ended second in the Khardung La Challenge. At the SCMM of January 2015, Norbu running the full marathon, finished 15th among men and ninth in his category with a timing of 3:08.

Jigmet Norbu was a lone figure near Lamdon School, waiting in the sun to talk to me. At 20 years of age, he was a year younger than Rigzin Norbu but a promising runner in the team in his own right. Born in Tsokar village in Ladakh’s Changtang region, he used to go out with his family’s flock of sheep. His parents were shepherds in Changtang, a high altitude plateau. Later, as a sponsored student, Jigmet reached Leh to study at the Lamdon School. That’s where he got into running becoming a noted runner at school level. In the 2012 Ladakh Marathon, he placed second in the half marathon. Next year he shifted to the full marathon, earning second position. His first visit to SCMM was in 2013. He couldn’t participate; he was underage! At the 2014 SCMM he completed the full marathon in 3:13, pruning that to 3:10 at the 2015 edition.

Jigmet Norbu (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Rigzen Norbu (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Close on the heels of the men, on both the occasions I saw the team run, was 21 year old-Jigmet Dolma, the strongest woman runner around. Hailing from Igoo village, she used to run at block, school and state level. Around the time of tenth standard, she left running for about a year. In 2012, she ran the half marathon at the Ladakh Marathon without any prior practice and emerged first. At the 2013 SCMM, she was placed 17th in the half marathon. Her main problem in Mumbai was muscle-cramping. “ I had no idea of timing, I just ran,’’ she said. At the 2013 Ladakh Marathon, she finished first in the half marathon with a timing of 1:50. In 2014, she improved her performance at SCMM to fourteenth position. Same year she retained her first position at the Ladakh Marathon. In January 2015, she ran her first full marathon at the SCMM, ending second in the open category and sixth overall. “ I wish to become the best marathon runner in India,’’ she told me, 21 year-old Tsetan Dolkar by her side, a morning at a cafe in Leh. Tsetan hailed from Lamayuru. With no prior experience, she ran the 2012 Ladakh Marathon in the full marathon category and ended second with a timing of around 4:50. Travelling to the 2013 SCMM, she was placed 13th in the open category of the full marathon. That year, she finished first among women in the full marathon of the Ladakh Marathon. Next year at the SCMM, she was placed 26th. Same year, 2014, she participated in the 72km-long Khardung La Challenge; she was placed first among women and fifth overall.

The Ladakhi running team I met was very young in age. According to Savio, his Ladakhi trainees have good endurance and strength. “ There is tremendous potential,’’ he said. Where the trainees falter and where they had faltered at SCMM, was in maintaining a sustainable rhythm. They needed to learn how to settle into a comfortable rhythm and carry on at a steady speed. Savio’s plan was to coach them in the core principles and then leave them with training modules that they can independently pursue once he returns to Mumbai. By running regularly together (as they were during the coaching sessions), he felt they would gravitate towards appropriate sub-groups that may serve as ideal cocoons for continued training. Most of the students in the training group hailed from distant villages; they were in Leh thanks to residential schools. “ I realize that some of them may not be good runners. But the point is – they are getting an opportunity through running to know themselves better,’’ Motup said. Next morning we assembled at the base of the road leading to Leh’s Shanti Stupa. The day’s practice involved running uphill and fast, on that road several times. Motup had high hopes from the training process begun. In a few years’ time, he wished to see at least one Ladakhi right up there on the national marathon scene. And that – including the process in place to move towards that goal – was what stood between Rimo, which hosted the Ladakh Marathon completely by itself and getting a sponsor aboard.

Tsetan Dolkar (left) and Jigmet Dolma (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Motup had divided the whole Ladakh Marathon effort into two halves. One was the event composed of the marathon, half marathon and the Khardung La Challenge. The other was the training scheme he had got underway including the running team’s annual trip to the SCMM in Mumbai. The training scheme is set to get bigger. After this year’s Ladakh Marathon in September, the team is planning to spend the winter away from Ladakh, running at various events in India including the 2016 SCMM. Running in different Indian cities will help them gain experience. Ice hockey was a way of staying engaged and warm in Ladakh during the deep freeze of winter. In running, the plan is to go out to warmer areas and run for you cannot do much running in Ladakh’s winter. Motup was clear – anyone wanting to sponsor the event-half of the Ladakh Marathon must spend to make the training-half happen for the period of sponsorship. Training brought running skills to Ladakhis; the event merely showcased running. That was the difference. Sponsors may want the showcase-half. But Motup will yield only if the training-half is promised sustenance. The search is on for a suitable sponsor. In Motup’s imagination, the training phase is critical. There have been requests from competent overseas athletes to run at the Ladakh Marathon, something that will go up with the event receiving AIMS certification. Motup said he would like to consider these requests only after some time. In that while he wants to improve the performance of Ladakh’s runners so that when the world arrives in Leh to run, Ladakh will be able to hold its ground.

Photo & imaging: Shyam G Menon

Update: The top three runners from the men’s section of the Khardung La Challenge in 2015 were: Tsewang Tokden (06:33:41), Rigzen Norbu (06:41:25) and Tsering Stobgais (07:08:43). The winners from the women’s section of the Khardung La Challenge were Skalzang Dolma (10:58:56), Khushboo Vaish (13:39:12) and Tsetan Lamo (13:41:18). Top laurels in the men’s full marathon went to Fayaz Ali (03:02:01), Padma Namgail (03:07:30) and Tsering Tondup (03:12:49). In the women’s full marathon, the top three finishers were Tsetan Dolkar (03:40:37), Jigmet Dolma (03:42:47) and Katharina Leuthner (03:47:13). In the half marathon, the men’s section was topped by Tanzin Norbu (01:22:47), Nawang Tsering (01:23:26) and Tashi Paldan (01:24:50). The winners in the women’s section of the half marathon were Diskit Dolma (01:48:05), Tsering Dolkar (01:50:53) and Stanzin Chodol (01:51:30).

Here are some photos from the 2015 Khardung La Challenge:

Tsewang Tokden / Khardung La Challenge 2015 (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Rigzen Norbu / Khardung La Challenge 2015 (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Tsering Stobgais / Khardung La Challenge 2015 (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Runner approaching Leh / Khardung La Challenge 2015 (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Lone runner on mountain face / Khardung La Challenge 2015 (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai. The timings and rankings mentioned in the article are as provided by the interviewees. The 2015 results are from the event’s official website.)     

Franco Linhares (Photo: courtesy Sharad Chandra)

Tucked away in the crags of Belapur in Navi Mumbai, is a small boulder with a tricky move on it called, `Franco’s Warm up.’

A name given by young climbers, it speaks much about the older gentleman whose name features in it.

Like all of us, Franco Linhares is inevitably growing old in life. But as he does so he is getting younger in climbing. You see him every evening at the small climbing wall at Podar College, first showing youngsters new to the sport the basics of climbing and then, doing some hard routes with the seasoned addicts. On weekends he turns up at Belapur, where the house of Abhijit Burman (aka Bong) has long been assembling point for climbers heading to the nearby crags. At 65 years of age, Franco is Mumbai’s most consistently active rock climber. He has been climbing for over three decades. That boulder in Belapur was aptly named. Warm-up is a sign of things to come and Franco in climbing is proving to be a bit of a Benjamin Button.

In the early 1950s, Franco’s father was stationed at Abadan in Iran, location then to one of the world’s biggest oil refineries. Franco was born in Abadan in 1950. The refinery belonged to the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (AIOC). In 1951, Iran nationalized oil properties. Refining ground to a halt at Abadan and riots broke out (a settlement was reached in 1954, which lasted till 1973 when the National Iranian Oil Company [NIOC] took over all facilities. The period from 1951 to 1954 is called The Abadan Crisis). Franco’s family moved to Mumbai and onward to Seria in North Borneo, South East Asia, where the oil company, Shell, had a refinery. Seria became Franco’s next home. In 1960, given his father’s desire that the children be educated in India, Franco shifted to Mumbai with his sister.

The Linhares family hails from Goa. Among Indian communities, Goans are noted for their love of sports. Franco attended the St Sebastian Goan High School at Girgaum in South Mumbai. His days there were filled with sports and games. “ My love for sports came from this school. Those were my formative years,’’ Franco said. Later he majored in Microbiology from Mumbai’s St Xavier’s College. By 1967, his family was also back in Mumbai for good. To keep himself occupied, his father worked at the United Services Club in Colaba, at the Archbishop’s House and eventually served a long stint at the Victoria Church in Mahim handling administrative matters. While looking for a job after graduation, Franco chanced to do a course at Bharat Laboratories in laboratory testing procedures. Course done, he commenced working for the company. He kept applying for jobs alongside; ` medical representative’ being much fancied those years. In 1973, Franco found long term employment at Hoechst Pharmaceuticals with a job in their quality control department. Every evening after work, he played hockey. This was on the road in front of his house in Mahim. Roads then were relatively free of traffic. They were playgrounds at hand. He also played for Hoechst in the company’s hockey and football teams, playing up to the senior division in hockey.

On Mangi pinnacle; Tungi in the backdrop

From the old Matheran hike (Photos: courtesy Franco)

Purists in climbing and hiking, look down their nose at commercial trips. Yet it is through such visits that many Indians begin their engagement with the great outdoors. In 1979, Franco reached Kashmir as a tourist on a trip arranged by the Mumbai based-Lala Tours and Travels. On return he realized one thing – he visited Kashmir, yes; he saw nothing of its high mountains and wilderness. So the following year he went on a trek to western Sikkim. His companion on the journey was the late Roque D’Souza, a maths major from St Xavier’s working at Ciba-Geigy (subsequently merged with Sandoz to form Novartis) and a regular at the evening hockey matches. Franco’s first Himalayan trek was initially challenging. On the first day he had a tough time adjusting to the altitude. Then everything was fine. In 1981, he went to Chanderkhani Pass in Himachal Pradesh. The next year, he trekked to Sandakphu. On this trek, most of the camp leaders were from the Mumbai based-club, Girivihar. They used to discuss climbing. It was Franco’s introduction to both the subject of climbing and the club he would eventually come to be identified with. Girivihar is Mumbai’s oldest mountaineering club. Soon afterwards, Franco trekked to Matheran and Kalsubai (at 5400ft, Maharashtra’s highest peak) in the Western Ghats (Sahyadri), with Vijay Athawale, a colleague at Hoechst.

Vijay quickly became Franco’s partner in outdoor adventures. Their friendship, strong to this date, can be gauged from Vijay’s recollection of events past, starting with “ 1st September, 1977’’ – the date he met Franco for the first time at the Quality Control Lab of Hoechst. Mumbai and Hoechst were new worlds for Vijay, hailing from a distant place, educated in the vernacular language and not even fully done with his degree course. He wrote in, “ I was obviously afraid of everything around. Franco was my role-model. Calm, soft spoken, a thorough gentleman and at the same time, mischievous, ready to participate in all sorts of picnics and parties! Our chemistry matched from day one.’’ According to Vijay, one of Franco’s friends pulled Franco out on a monsoon outing and Franco in turn, pulled Vijay in. That’s how their partnership began. The outdoor bug got them and then, others at office. “ What started as monsoon outings, slowly changed to one day treks and later to overnight hikes,’’ he recalled. Vijay had heard of the annual rock climbing camp conducted by Girivihar, wherein rock climbing skills were taught. Franco and Vijay attended the camp held at Kanheri Caves inside the Borivali national park. It lasted three to four days. From then on, for several years, Vijay and Franco went for every trek and climb organized by Girivihar. “ We just liked it. It was great to be out,’’ Franco said. With Harish Kapadia’s guidebook for trekking in these ranges available in the market, the Sahyadri became playground for Mumbai’s outdoor enthusiasts.

Scenes from old Girivihar rock / pinnacle climbs. The climber seen in the photo at left is the late Anil Kumar, during his time one of the best climbers at Girivihar (Photos: courtesy Franco)

Given their regular attendance at club activities, Franco and Vijay were quickly co-opted into Girivihar’s management. Vijay was made secretary straight away. “ I was in the management committee as a sort of assistant secretary to Vijay,’’ Franco said. Those were the days of cyclostyle; the days preceding email. The schedule of outdoor activity for a specific period of time would be drawn up. It would be cyclostyled and posted to club members. Franco recalls doing this after his daily work at Hoechst. The Girivihar rock climbing camp had been Franco’s initiation into climbing. Besides Borivali national park, the other climbing crags in the Mumbai region then were at Mumbra and Kalwa. Unlike today, very few people had climbing shoes. Climbing was mostly done in `Hunter’ shoes, a model of canvas shoe with ankle guard and rubber soles made popular by Indian shoe companies. Occasionally, a climber or two seeking better grip on rock, pasted a strip of high friction rubber to the soles. Climbers set out early in the morning and climbed as much as they could.

The club’s climbing itinerary was mixed – it also included ascents of pinnacles, a pursuit that enjoyed considerable popularity in Maharashtra, where the Western Ghats are enmeshed in local history. Much of the climbing happened on weekends. That meant, major Girivihar climbs like the first ascent of the Khada Parsi pinnacle near Nane Ghat, took the club a few weekends to accomplish. The climbing style on rock was trad, that too within the limits of available climbing equipment. Right up to the early 1990s, India was a protected economy. Good climbing gear was hard to obtain and expensive. This did not impede the climbers of those days from choosing bold objectives. Their approach to climbing was however different from today; in particular, you read a route keeping in mind one’s competence and available equipment, before you climbed. Some of the pinnacle-climbs were personal projects. The club had a published itinerary of activity but was open to the private initiatives of its members.

Ruinsara (Photo: courtesy Franco)

In 1984, Franco was part of a team of friends who trekked to Annapurna Base Camp in Nepal. “ We went self supported, carting along 40 kilos of stuff only to find that everything was available along the way,’’ he said. In 1985, he got into his first Himalayan mountaineering expedition with a seat aboard Girivihar’s trip to climb Swargarohini and Black Peak in Garhwal. He hadn’t yet done his mountaineering course but he was taken along as he had been regular at rock climbing in Mumbai. Black Peak was assigned as potential climbing objective for the club’s ` junior team,’ while the seniors attempted Swargarohini I and III. On this trip, Franco and two others climbed Ruinsara. He had until then never held an ice axe, never worn a plastic mountaineering boot. However, he didn’t find the transition from climbing on rock to climbing on snow difficult. An engagement with the outdoors, begun in the fallout of a commercial trip to Kashmir in 1979, was now assuming serious proportions.

In October 2013, I chanced to witness a climbing competition at the Podar College-wall (for details please visit https://shyamgopan.wordpress.com/2013/10/04/bouldering-competition-at-podar-college/), organized by Girivihar. Quietly standing by, watching the proceedings was Pio Linhares. During a brief conversation at his house in Mahim, Pio, 93, recalled some of his own old adventures – among them travelling with a convoy of trucks during the beginning of World War II, from Mumbai to North East India and across the border through Myanmar and Thailand to Singapore. That was when he worked for the Ford Motor Company’s Mumbai office. The Abadan years were after this phase. I asked him what he thought of his son’s affection for climbing and the outdoors. Was he prepared for the dimensions it acquired? “ I allowed him to do what he wanted. I did not hold him back. It is when you restrict somebody that they get frustrated and you need to worry,’’ Pio said.

In 1986, Girivihar decided to attempt Kamet (7756m). Franco couldn’t find the required leave to join the team. He helped reach the expedition’s gear all the way to Malari and then returned to Mumbai. Away in the Himalaya, on the Kamet trip, the idea of another expedition was born – an attempt on Kanchenjunga (8586m), the world’s third highest peak. According to Franco, Kanchenjunga wasn’t the first choice. The club’s first choice was Everest (8850m). Everest via its normal route was already booked and the available opportunity was a climb via one of the harder faces. That’s how Kanchenjunga entered the frame. The club’s junior team was told clearly – they needed to do their basic mountaineering course. By now the `junior team’ – it had the likes of Franco, Vijay, Sanjay Chowgule and Amod Khopkar – had been climbing regularly. In 1986, Franco did his basic course from the mountaineering institute in Manali then called the Western Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (WHMI). Attempting a big mountain like Kanchenjunga requires preparation. The club’s junior team was told to select a peak and plan an expedition. They decided on Hanuman Tibba (5900m) in Himachal Pradesh. The team led by Vidyadhar Joshi, included Franco, Amod and Milind Bhide. But it turned out to be a challenging trip with the team’s progress halted by heavy snowing. Eventually Vidyadhar climbed Friendship peak nearby as a consolation. “ Eighty per cent of my trips to the high mountains ended up living in inhospitable conditions and then coming back,’’ Franco said.

The post Kanchenjunga look

Franco, from a 2002 mountaineering expedition in the Zanskar Himalaya (Photos: from the collections of Franco and Abhijit Burman)

The Kanchenjunga expedition happened in 1988. Having secured from Hoechst the needed leave of three and a half months, Franco went with an advance party to the mountain’s Base Camp in Nepal. Their role – carry in the expedition’s gear and supplies. The advance party had 300 porters or so. The rest of the team flew to Taplejung and proceeded to Base Camp. Franco’s trek began from Hille, ahead of Taplejung and entailed 14-15 days walk to reach Base Camp at around 18,000ft. This included a three day-walk on the glacier ahead of camp. After reaching Base Camp, the team set out to establish Camp I. Kanchenjunga was a powerful influence on Franco. That expedition shaped the reputation he would subsequently have at Girivihar. He went up to Camp 4, at around 24,000ft on the mountain. He spent two nights there. There were suggestions that he proceed further up. He declined the offer. Didn’t a potential shot at the summit interest you? – I asked him. After all, the summit is where every mountaineer wants to be. “ I was completely exhausted and hyperventilating like mad. I was at the end of my tether. Saying no wasn’t a difficult decision for me,’’ Franco said. Girivihar’s Kanchenjunga expedition – it was the first Indian civilian expedition to an 8000m-peak – failed by a thin margin. It saw two climbers – Charuhas Joshi and Uday Kolwankar – reach above 8000m. It also saw the tragic demise of a team member, the expedition’s deputy leader Sanjay Borole.

Amid this, Franco ended up spending 28 days above Base Camp on the mountain, a significant altitude for someone to stay that long at a stretch. When the expedition was wound up, he volunteered to go with the party carrying down the body of the deceased member and proceed onward to Mumbai. This trip included another duty en route – he was deputed to meet Elizabeth Hawley, the legendary American journalist who kept a record of expeditions and climbs in the Nepal Himalaya. He also spent some time wandering about Kathmandu with his newly gained mountain-look. One of Franco’s memories of Kanchenjunga is the huge beard he acquired during the expedition. He roamed all around Thamel sporting the beard and kept it on till he got back to Mumbai. Franco considers the Kanchenjunga expedition as having been very important for Girivihar’s junior climbers like him. They climbed high on Kanchenjunga, spent much time on the mountain and worked in several camps. He recalled the case of Shantanu Pandit, who was also an upcoming climber like him at that time. Shantanu became one of those who worked the most, having walked in with the advance party and leaving only after expedition’s wrap-up. Vijay had accompanied the expedition’s film crew to Base Camp. “ It was a three month-long strenuous, tragic expedition and very few team members returned home in sound mental and physical condition like Franco did,’’ he said. The very next year after Kanchenjunga, four club members including Franco, went to attempt Menthosa (6440m) in Himachal Pradesh. They reached Camp II pretty quickly and could have gone for the summit, except – there was heavy snowfall. The team stayed put at Camp II for three days and then returned. In a second attempt on the peak, some years later, Franco would reach only till Camp I.

Franco, during the Zanskar expedition (Photo: from the collection of Abhijit Burman)

For Franco, the Himalaya was an on-off affair. “ I used to come off the Himalaya saying – no more of this. But after about a month of being in Mumbai, I would start planning the next trip,’’ he said. In that stage of his life, Franco had an expedition almost every year. Over time however, the zest began dipping. His problems were two – the cold and the altitude. Twice he experienced chilblains. His capacity to acclimatize smoothly also seemed to progressively fade. On an expedition to Shivling (6543m), he had his first bout of nausea at Tapovan (4463m) itself. During another trip to Kang Yatze (6400m) in Ladakh, he chose to halt his ascent short of the summit as he felt exhausted. In comparison, the Western Ghats of Maharashtra (called Sahyadri locally) stayed playground. “ I have been to many places, many times in the Western Ghats and yet enjoyed it every time. I never had that attitude of wanting to visit a place just for the heck of saying I was there. For me, every venture into the outdoors is different even if it be a repeat visit to the same place,’’ Franco said.

Franco is strongly associated with Girivihar’s annual rock climbing camp as an instructor and is possibly the best remembered of all club members for his generally supportive, nonintrusive ways. His calm, uncomplaining disposition often saw club responsibilities dumped on him. Vijay remembered an adventure camp from years ago, wherein the camp’s lady instructor had to leave after a few days. The question was – who will replace her? The choice was unanimous – Franco. “ Whenever others were reluctant to accept a responsibility, he would take it up without any hesitation,’’ Vijay said. But that didn’t mean Franco was without preferences. There was a phase when he worked for the outdoor industry. It didn’t last because he knew his calling in the outdoors was of a different sort. However he did nudge others into the outdoor line. Manohar D’Silva is a senior instructor with the US based-National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS). Years ago, his introduction to rock climbing had been through a Girivihar camp (the 32nd camp held by the club), his batch of trainees becoming much loved at the club under the acronym, RC-32. Manohar wrote in about Franco, “ besides being super impressed by this fifty plus-year old person easily climbing rock faces, I was deeply influenced by his fitness routine. It greatly contributed to me losing close to thirteen kilos in eleven months. More than ten years later, I continue to be impressed by Franco’s increasing level of fitness and his love for rock climbing. Franco came across as a genuine human being who connected with others and was concerned about their well being. His teaching style was patient and encouraging. Franco was directly responsible for me switching to the outdoors as my vocation. I vividly remember the conversation over tea in an Irani cafe in Mahim where Franco laid to rest my apprehensions of making ends meet through work in the outdoors. That conversation was a turning point for me. I will always be indebted to him for that.’’

A typical evening at the Podar College-wall (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Shyam Sanap, 32, is a talented climber. At his peak, he was often called the best boulderer in Mumbai. He has known Franco for at least 15 years. According to him, Franco’s climbing has steadily improved. At 65, he is doing some of his best climbing. “ At the wall and at the crags, Franco not only does his share of climbing, he also attempts problems being tried by stronger climbers, much younger to him in age. He does not waste any opportunity to climb that comes his way,’’ Shyam said. Aniruddha Biswas (Aniruddh) reached Girivihar through RC-32. Franco credits Aniruddh for much of the improvement in his climbing that happened in his later years. Time spent in the US saw Aniruddh’s climbing improve dramatically. “ Aniruddh used to keep on encouraging me. I now climb hard. I try to play tag with all the youngsters around. I enjoy it. I don’t care if I can’t do the hard stuff they do. Just attempting it makes me happy. Over time I have realized that I can also do it,’’ Franco said. At the Podar College-wall, I suspect there is more to the young company Franco finds himself in these days, than meets the eye. It speaks of his adaptability. In 2003 Vijay moved to Goa. As they aged, the climbers of Franco’s generation faded, transformed to being organizers or became high priests and commentators of the sport. Franco soldiered on, climbing. Long ago, it was the old black and white photo from Matheran; later – Girivihar’s classic climbing years, today – the Podar College-wall and Belapur’s crags. The one constant has been climbing and the outdoors; connections with visitors to life built around these experiences. As the clock ticks, the crowd around him has been getting younger. The Podar College-wall is the deep end of such youth. “ It is awesome what he is doing at this age,’’ Anuj Naik, 28, climbing since the past one year at the Podar College-wall, said. Besides many years spent climbing around Mumbai, Franco has climbed rock in various places in India – from Badami, Hampi and Yana in Karnataka, to Pachmarhi in Madhya Pradesh and the Miyar Nallah area in Himachal Pradesh. He has also climbed in Sicily, Italy. “ Now I am thinking of a climbing trip to Greece,’’ he said. Along the way he took voluntary retirement (VRS) from Hoechst, served as president of Girivihar and stayed a bachelor. He is also a devout Catholic who likes his periodic visits to the church.

“ I hope I can climb as long as the body permits. I just want to climb rock. I have always loved rock climbing. With all the modern climbing that has taken off, I wish to lead a 7a someday. That is my goal. As regards big mountains, I find altitude and cold challenging. So that is a bit difficult,’’ he said. In the pantheon of climbing grades, 7a is arguably the beginning of truly difficult, demanding climbs. This author is a very average – probably bad – climber. The hardest route he ever led was a 6b or near about. Stand in the author’s shoes, add Franco’s age and say lead climbing – 7a acquires a different hue; it is an engaging challenge. It may seem a bit puzzling – this courting of climbing as pure physicality (which is the image sport climbing evokes) after beholding climbing on a much larger canvas in the Himalaya. In disciplines like bouldering for example, the equivalent of a whole mountain at altitude to tackle, will be a tricky move or two, utterly strenuous but rarely exceeding 20ft in height. Compared to bouldering, bolted sport routes are longer but as predetermined, pre-protected routes they can be said to be partial to highlighting the physicality and edginess of climbing than the art of figuring out an ascent. Franco concedes this. On the other hand, he avers, he has a high tolerance for pure action, physicality and game formats thanks to his old school days. He doesn’t mind the perceived loss of thought and grandeur when world reduces to action filled-sport climbing in finite space. Is there something of a life simplified, a return to old days and St Sebastian Goan High School in erstwhile mountaineer hanging out at the Podar College-wall or dreaming 7a at 65? One wonders.

Franco (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

When I first met Franco in the late 1990s, he had just acquired a pair of green classic climbing shoes called Kamet, his first pair. Then a black and purple Boreal Laser was added to the collection. Thereafter as climbing acquired intensity among the devout in Mumbai, climbers – Franco among them – burnt rubber fast. Now he carries an Evolv Pontas, a Five Ten Galelio amd Anasazi to the crags. I asked Franco if he had set out to be a climber. “ I think the story of my life is that I just drifted. I kept doing things, meandered to wherever the current took me, stopped where the current stopped and then, carried on again from there,’’ he said. In Franco’s case this would seem to have become a unique strength. Unlike the average rock climber / mountaineer who bristles with achievement or loves to add arrows to his / her quiver of achievements, Franco has remained a very approachable person. With three decades of climbing under his belt, he has memories and stories. But the way he recollects – akin to taking out an old volume from the shelves and blowing the dust off it – you get the impression that he lives in the now and here. Those who have climbed will agree – that’s one of the experiential imprints of climbing, especially its increasingly young, action filled-genres like sport climbing. At Mumbai’s crags, at the Podar College-wall – that is how people and Franco are. It is a celebration of one move, the next move and the now in both. Along the way, in the many hours accumulated climbing, you notice a passing number – 65.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai. He would like to thank Sharad Chandra for allowing the use of one of his photographs.)

Dnyaneshwar Tidke

Entering the housing colony in New Panvel, we asked for the house we wished to go to.

“ Tidke?’’ the woman said inquiringly, turning to face us from the conversation she had been having at the kitchen window of her neighbour.

“ Haan…over there, see the cycle? That door,’’ she said.

By now a big black dog had begun barking at our intrusion into the quiet environs. Two other dogs, closer by, raised an eye brow to glance at us and then went back to sleep. Reaching the door near the parked bicycle, we rang the door bell. A man dressed in track pant and T-shirt opened the door. He had the light build of a dedicated runner; his eyes seemed tired and peaceful at once. We were ushered into a frugally furnished, neatly kept room. Meet Mumbai running’s “ Don.’’

Dnyaneshwar Tidke was born in March 1974 at Malakoli village in Nanded in the Marathwada region of India’s Maharashtra state. His father Dhondiram Tidke was a farmer. Life was tough. Agriculture in these parts depended on timely rains and the monsoon had its vagaries. Dnyaneshwar studied up to the tenth standard at the village school. A generally quiet person, he was neither exceptional at studies nor was he pronouncedly into sports. Then something happened. He failed in the tenth standard. Although he cleared this hurdle in his second attempt, the failure and his subsequent ability to pass through hard work stayed engraved in his mind. When it came to his twelfth standard exams at school in Ahmedpur, Dnyaneshwar secured 96 per cent marks in physics, chemistry and mathematics, a high enough score to be admitted for chemical engineering at the Laxminarayan Institute of Technology (LIT) in Nagpur. College was his first time away from Malakoli. “ It was a different experience,’’ Dnyaneshwar said. He developed a penchant for physical activity. He frequented a gym. The college was on a hill. He used to run loops around it. Crucially he developed a craving for physical exertion and exhaustion. It was the beginning of the first half of Don’s life. Its credo – life’s problems solved by a simple solution founded in how he cleared his school exams and the physically active life that followed: if you can’t get something, then, hard work should help you get it. When you work hard you become tired. So, if you are tired it also means you did the required hard work to get what you want.

(Left) An old photo of Malakoli (Right) Dnyaneshwar (second from right) with his father Dhondiram Tidke, mother Bhivarabai and sister, Neetha (Photos: courtesy Dnyaneshwar. Photo montage: Shyam G Menon)

Following his BTech, Dnyaneshwar’s first job was as temporary lecturer for a year at the government polytechnic in Mumbra on the peripheries of Mumbai. Once the stint was over, he returned to Malakoli. In 2000, he got married. For the next few years he stayed put in Malakoli, in what he described as some sort of funk, the bright spot therein being a daily 10km-run with a swim thereafter in a distant village-pond. That faith in physical activity as means to find equanimity, groomed in college, was slowly evolving into a daily discipline. He would in between come from Malakoli to Kalina in Mumbai, where he stayed at a friend’s place and hunted for a job. The everyday running continued; this time it was from Kalina on the eastern edge of the city’s western suburbs, to Juhu beach on Mumbai’s west coast. Around this time, he worked for two to three months at a logistics company near the Jawaharlal Nehru Port Trust (JNPT) in Navi Mumbai, India’s premier container port. While there he saw the advertisement for the 2006 Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon (SCMM). He enrolled for the full marathon with no proper idea of what it entailed. Luckily even as he enrolled for the marathon with insufficient grasp of the subject, he secured his first proper job – Assistant Production Officer with Modhera Chemicals, a company in Turbhe, Navi Mumbai, manufacturing specialty chemicals for the textile industry. The family moved to rented accommodation in Panvel, Navi Mumbai. He chose Panvel both for its proximity to where he worked and also its proximity to industrial zones, just in case he was forced to seek employment afresh.

Dnyaneshwar trained for his first SCMM, sticking to his daily 10km runs. Then, prompted by the 42 km-length of the marathon and its disparity with his daily runs, he ran 35 km three days ahead of the event. In a personal madness, likely traceable to challenges in high school and the habits he picked up in college, he didn’t want to merely run, he wanted to win. On race day, he reached the starting line late. Wanting to win, he commenced running without sparing time to pin his bib. He held it in his hand instead. Half way through, he was stopped by the police who mistook him to be an intruder running without the official bib. He showed his bib and continued. But no matter how hard he tried the pack leaders remained way ahead while Dnyaneshwar got progressively exhausted. He was still struggling to reach the half way mark, when he saw the leaders going in the reverse direction after the half way-turn. He noticed their pace and efficiency. Past the half way-mark, at Shivaji Park, Dnyaneshwar quit. His first SCMM was a DNF (Did Not Finish).

Dnyaneshwar

To confront the challenge of preparing for his next SCMM, he applied his longstanding credo – work harder. What he overlooked was that he was employed and working long hours. “ I used to get tired from work and then go for a run,’’ he said. This routine plus the daily running strained him. Then in a repeat of 2006, in 2007 too, just ahead of the year’s SCMM, Dnyaneshwar ran 35km to be ready for the marathon he badly wanted to do. Fortunately, he completed the race in 4:30 hours. But he found his energy dipping past the 30km-mark. He was in a trap, a vicious cycle. He didn’t want to run the half marathon; he wanted to run the full. He wanted to win and the only thing he knew to win was to work harder. The harder he worked, the more he got tired. The more he tired himself, the less he could run. In 2008, his timing at SCMM exceeded five hours. He was ill for almost a month before the run. He had none to advise him, no friends in running. Meanwhile, another problem was hot on his heels – he wasn’t eating properly. With too much running and long hours at work to somehow balance, he was ignoring food intake not to mention, nutrition. “ My thinking then was – to run a marathon well, you must run a marathon every day,’’ he said. Eventually medical complications caught up with him – among them, fall in his platelets count. Dnyaneshwar was hospitalized soon after the Mumbai marathon. To complicate matters, his elder son had been diagnosed with a heart problem.

Whatever the problems in his life, Dnyaneshwar’s recipe for cure remained the same – running. “ Exhaustion felt good. It cleared the head,’’ he said. In 2009, he missed registering for the SCMM. Although he didn’t run at the event, he stayed in training. Asked whether he consulted his doctor on how to recover, he said he resorted to self administered recovery. The hospitalization had however tempered the old blind faith in furious activity. He was being watchful. Overall across these years, a Dnyaneshwar-day went somewhat like this: wake up at 4.30AM; run till 7.30AM, leave for work at 8AM, be back home by 7PM. That was a typical day; repeat it every day. There have been atypical days too. When he commenced formal training with a coach, there were days when he got back home at 11PM before starting the crushing routine all over again. The most engagingly atypical one was this – he would run in the morning from his house in Panvel to Sanpada roughly 25km away. At a shop selling fruit juice in Sanpada, where he would have kept a change of clothes stashed, he would change and proceed to office. “ No matter what, everyday he will go for a run,’’ his wife, Surekha, said. At the 2010 SCMM, he got his first genuinely encouraging result. He finished the full marathon in 3:58, his first sub-four hours-timing.

Dnyaneshwar at the 2014 Bengaluru Marathon

Arguably, it was in 2011 that Dnyaneshwar’s life in running began to change. That year the second half of Don’s life started. Some 20 days before that year’s SCMM, while out on a practice run in Navi Mumbai, he met Praveen Kumar, a runner from Bihar. Praveen was in the city specifically to run the SCMM. He was being supervised by a coach. Dnyaneshwar talked to them and in the process got his first taste of formal, structured training for a marathon. Despite a dose of unexpected confusion in the following days for distraction (Praveen apparently went missing and was found only after the SCMM), Dnyaneshwar returned a timing of 3:21 at SCMM. He was also able to do this without any stop in between. “ I felt good,’’ he said. But through the preparation for the race and the running itself, he had aggravated a case of shin splints. Following this race, he chanced to post his timing on the website of Runners for Life. As runners took note of his timing and one runner spoke to the other, word reached Navi Mumbai Runners (NMR) of the promising runner in their midst. According to Dnyaneshwar, M.K. Srivatsan and Vignesh Eashwar of NMR put him in touch with the well known coach, Daniel Vaz, who recommended rest and icing for the shin splints. Later Dnyaneshwar joined one of Mumbai’s regular Bandra-NCPA runs and met Giles Drego, another coach. Eventually he settled for Savio Dsouza as coach, his first formal training arrangement for long distance running. As he stayed in Panvel far off from the city, he would meet his coach one day of the week and keep him posted of his activity, over phone, the remaining days. “ I learnt to give food and nutrition the required importance,’’ Dnyaneshwar said of lessons from this phase.

In August 2011, he raced under Savio’s guard for the first time at the Hyderabad marathon, returning a timing of 3:11. He placed third in the open category. It was Dnyaneshwar’s first podium finish. He got Rs 15,000 as prize money. “ It felt good,’’ he said. Then in December 2011, he ran at the Pune International Marathon completing it in 2:53, his first sub three hours-performance in the full marathon. It was also his personal best. However at the 2012 SCMM, his timing increased to 3:04. It was in part due to the congestion caused by half marathon runners as at some point their route merged with that of the full marathon.

Meanwhile a new set of problems arose. His parents had been ailing for some time. With only a younger sister for sibling and nobody to really take care of his parents in Malakoli, Dnyaneshwar moved them to Panvel. The circumstance prompted him to shift from rented premises to owned premises. To do so, he sold a portion of his land in the village and used the receipts to purchase a house. “ Amid all this, in 2012, my training suffered,’’ he said. Aside from SCMM, the only other event of note he participated in was a marathon in Mumbai’s Borivali National Park where he came first. At the 2013 SCMM, he returned a timing of 2:56, something he managed because he was allowed to run in the elite category and avoid the growing congestion of runners. Months later, in May 2013, both his parents passed away within a week of each other. In June 2013, Dnyaneshwar suffered a motorbike accident with injury to his left ankle. It forced him to rest for 2-3 months. Finding it difficult to sit still, he turned to swimming for relief. Dnyaneshwar rebounded from the accident with the Vasai-Virar marathon (3:12); the Goa half marathon (1:23), the 2014 SCMM full marathon, which he finished in 2:58, placing sixth in the amateur category and the Bangalore marathon where he placed sixth at 3:00. On the injury list, he dealt with a groin injury that year and a second motorbike accident.

Surekha and Dnyaneshwar (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Savio was national champion in the marathon from 1984 to 1988. We spoke to Savio for his assessment of Dnyaneshwar. “ When Dnyaneshwar approached me he was already clocking a timing of 3:15-3:20 hours in the marathon. I made a few changes to his workout for running such as adding speed workouts and increased distance among others. The training helped him. In the first event he participated in after he began working with me, he was able to complete the marathon in improved timing. He has the potential to improve further in terms of timing. I think he can touch 2:45-2:42 hours. He is a strong runner and works quite hard. Unfortunately he had a motorbike accident last year. After he recovered, he had to start his training all over again,’’ Savio said. Besides acquiring a sustainable running format through formal training, the other major change is that Dnyaneshwar has found friends. They gave him a nickname – Don. That’s how he is known in Mumbai’s running circles. “ I don’t know how that name came about. I suspect it is because of my pace, ‘’ he said laughing and alluding alongside to the popular Bollywood movie by that name with its famous dialogue saying it is not just hard to capture its hero, a don, it is impossible to catch him. The real highlight of 2014 was something else. A group of runners – among them a wealthy businessman – saw him run and broached the question: why not Boston? The qualifying time for Dnyaneshwar’s age group for the 2015 Boston Marathon was 3:15 and he had a finishing time at SCMM that was well within the limit.

“ I don’t have the money,’’ Don replied.

Both money and help have since arrived. When we met him on April 10, Don was set to fly to Boston on April 16 for the 2015 Boston Marathon, his passage put together by friends and well wishers in running, including that businessman. This is Dnyaneshwar’s first visit abroad. He said he had also spoken to Bhasker Desai, who ran the Boston Marathon thrice, for tips on how to prepare (for more on Bhasker Desai please visit https://shyamgopan.wordpress.com/2015/04/06/from-zanzibar-to-boston-the-bhasker-desai-story/). Most important, unlike the mad days of before when he ran hard close to race days, Dnyaneshwar was in the taper down phase of his preparation. “ For good result, systematic training is required,’’ he said, hard earned wisdom resonant in the words.

UPDATE / April 21, 2015:

According to race results available on the Boston Marathon website, Dnyaneshwar Tidke completed the full marathon in 3:00:57 hours.

He was ranked 404 among men in his age group of 40-44 years. His overall rank was 2839 and within the men’s category, 2679.

Don’s best timing to date for the full marathon is 2:53, which he achieved at the Pune International Marathon in December 2011.

The winner in Don’s age group at the 2015 Boston Marathon, Danilo Goffi of Italy, had a timing of 2:18:44, which translated to 15th place overall and 15th within the men’s category.

The top finisher overall in the men’s category, Lelisa Desisa of Ethiopia, had a timing of 2:09:17. The top finisher overall in the women’s category was Caroline Rotich from Kenya at 2:24:55.

On the event’s website, as per numbers quoted under the category ` countries of citizenship represented,’  India had 19 runners enrolled of which, 18 started the race and 17, completed it. Corresponding figures for India under the category `countries of residence represented’ were 10, 9 and 8 respectively.

Altogether the 2015 edition of the event had 30,251 runners on its rolls. Of the lot, 98 per cent finished the race.

October 2015: Running the full marathon, Dnyaneshwar Tidke finished third in his age category (40-45 years) at the Sriram Properties Bengaluru Marathon 2015. His timing was 03:00:38.

(The authors Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon are independent journalists based in Mumbai. The timings quoted are as provided by the interviewee. Where photo credits have not been shown, the photos have been downloaded from the Facebook page of Dnyaneshwar Tidke and used with his consent. )

Left: Bhasker Desai (Photo: Shyam G Menon) Right: Photo taken likely in 1962, showing Bhasker (far right) with his family on Pemba Island, Zanzibar. His eldest sister Sudha went to a boarding school 30 km away from home and the family had gone to see her off (Photo: by arrangement).

“ It was a medical issue that got me into running,’’ Bhasker Desai said.

March 2015. We are at a cafe at the Inorbit Mall in Malad, a Mumbai suburb.

Bhasker was born in November 1952, in the town of Wete, on Pemba Island, Zanzibar. Pemba Island is the second biggest island of the Zanzibar archipelago. The famous channel which separates the islands from the coast of Tanzania (of which Zanzibar is now a part), got its name from Pemba. The Pemba Channel is rich in marine life and is considered today one of the world’s best preserved spots for game fishing. Zanzibar, ruled in the past by Omani kings, has historically hosted a non-resident Gujarati trading community. Bhasker’s grandfather was the first from his family to settle in Zanzibar, in 1905. Bhasker studied till the fifth standard in Africa. Given the growing political unrest in the archipelago preceding its formal union with Tanzania, Bhasker’s studies post-fifth standard happened at a boarding school in Nargol, South Gujarat. He went on to do his textile engineering from IIT Delhi and worked for Bombay Dyeing and Mafatlal, both big names in the Indian textile business.

In 1994, he quit his senior position at Mafatlal to commence his own business straddling three lines – garment export to Europe, supplying linen to five star hotels and being an agent for imported high density and low density polymer powder. Bhasker’s wife, a senior executive with the Tata Group, was based in the US from 1999 to 2005. With their son also studying and later working in the US, Bhasker managed the business in Mumbai and shuttled between India and the US.

In his years at IIT Delhi, Bhasker had run the 1500m at inter-hostel competitions. He also liked playing football. However life as businessman in Mumbai was decidedly sedentary.

Bhasker’s triglycerides level exceeded 900.

Illustration: Shyam G Menon

Triglycerides are a type of fat (lipid) found in our blood stream.

The Mayo Clinic website offers an easy-to-understand explanation. When we eat our body converts any calories it doesn’t need immediately into triglycerides, stored in our fat cells. Later, hormones release triglycerides for energy between meals. If you eat more calories than you burn – especially easy calories like carbohydrates and fats – you may have high triglycerides, a condition called hypertriglyceridemia. The American Heart Association recommends that a triglycerides level of 100 milligrams per decilitre (100mg/dL) or lower may be considered as optimal. The Mayo Clinic website deems 150-199mg/dL as ` borderline high,’ 200-499mg/dL as ` high’ and 500mg/dL and over as ` very high.’ High levels of triglycerides increase the risk of heart disease. To lower triglycerides level, change in diet and lifestyle, including physical exercise, is the usual approach.

Bhasker started frequenting Mercury Gym in the Mumbai suburb of Goregaon, doing weights and running on the treadmill. Without medication, the triglycerides receded to 450. One of the gym members noticed that he ran well on the treadmill and suggested that he train for the upcoming edition of the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon (SCMM). Bhasker enrolled for the half marathon with roughly 40 days to prepare.

In 2005-2006, when high triglycerides got Bhasker thinking of exercise, the sprawling mall we were in wasn’t yet part of Malad’s landscape. It was vacant land bordering the nearby creek. That’s where Bhasker started training for the 2006 SCMM. On event day, he finished third in his age category with a timing of 1:45 hours. By the time he was thus initiated into long distance running and liking it, his triglycerides level had dropped through consistent physical activity to 200-250.

Bhasker with wife Nina and son Neeraj, Lake District, UK, 1990 (Photo: by arrangement)

Bhasker’s son Neeraj lived in Charlotte, North Carolina. Newly married, he worked as an Assistant Vice President with the Bank of America. He was also passionate about the environment and was the youngest director of a NGO called Carolinas Clean Air Coalition. Roughly seven months after Bhasker ran his first SCMM, in August 2006, Neeraj died in a road accident. With her son now no more, Bhasker’s wife Nina, moved back to Mumbai. She also secured a job in the city with the Tata Group. The family had been adding two new floors to their house in Goregaon; the construction had been temporarily stopped because their future, when Neeraj was alive and Nina was working in the US, had seemed more US-headed than India-based. With Neeraj gone, Nina lost interest in the construction. With some coaxing from Neeraj’s friends in the US, Bhasker and Nina resumed work on the house.

January 2007 and yet another SCMM, approached. Bhasker had registered for the half marathon. On January 17, Nina passed away in hospital, the result of a slip and fall she suffered while supervising work at the house under construction. Three days later, Bhasker ran the half marathon; he decided to run the race for his wife and son, finishing it in 1:47. It took Bhasker all of 2007 to come to terms with the personal loss he had suffered. “ It wasn’t that I was crying or anything. It was more that my wife and son had given me so much of a sense of direction in life. That was suddenly gone,’’ he said. There were other losses too in 2007 – his mother-in-law, his brother-in-law, his uncle’s son, they all passed away. “ It was a terrible year,’’ Bhasker said.

Bhasker running at events in Mumbai and Bengaluru (Photos: by arrangement / Photo montage: Shyam G Menon)

Once again, SCMM provided leverage for a restart. Bhasker resumed his running with another half marathon in the 2008 SCMM. He ran a half marathon in Delhi. The running calendar then wasn’t as busy as it is nowadays. There weren’t as many events. 2009 was Bhasker’s first busy year in running. It started as usual with SCMM. Then he ran a half marathon – part of an event called Tibetan Marathon – at Leh in Ladakh, the very northern part of India, tucked in the high mountains of the Karakoram and the Himalaya. In Leh, he met Ken Skea, one of the foreign runners enrolled for the race. Ken encouraged Bhasker to attempt the Boston Marathon in the US. It is the world’s oldest and best known annual marathon, one of the six World Marathon Majors (Tokyo, Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago and New York City). You cannot participate unless you meet the assigned qualifying time for your age category. The qualifying time for Bhasker’s age group at the Boston Marathon was 3:45 and the then 56 year-old Bhasker hadn’t yet run a full marathon. Much work was in order.

Around this time, some other changes were happening. Born into a traditionally enterprising family that had ventured out two generations ago and made its wealth in farming, Bhasker had also put in several years working at companies and founded his own business. After the demise of his son and wife, he slowly started taking a backseat at work. The business tapered to just one line of work; his company is still supplier of linen to one of India’s biggest chain of luxury hotels. The company became more a source of income for its few employees. On his part Bhaskar did not hesitate to use his resources to help less privileged runners. Gradually the Bhasker known to Mumbai’s running circles – the man given to running, enjoying it and inspiring others by his enthusiasm for it – began taking shape.

Ken Skea and Bhasker (Photo: by arrangement)

Bhasker’s performance at the 2010 SCMM full marathon was affected by a calcareous heel spur problem. He finished in 5:05. Boston demanded 3:45, which meant he should ideally finish at some noted event in at least 3:40. Bhasker turned to Giles Drego, one of Mumbai’s leading coaches in distance running, for guidance. In September 2010, he started following the training chart Giles provided. Ken Skea also pitched in to help with a training regimen for Bhasker. In October 2010, at Ken’s suggestion, Bhasker ran the full marathon at Athens completing the course in 4:05. “ The half marathon is a journey, the full is a destination. That is the difference,’’ he said of his learning. In December he ran the full marathon at Sabarmathi (Ahmedabad), bringing down his time to 3:45. Then he registered for the March 2011 full marathon in Washington DC.

In February 2011, Bhasker decided to hike up Kilimanjaro in Africa. The group he was with was doing the normal route. Feeling fit and with upcoming major marathon events in mind, Bhasker ran between one camp and the next. But he had overlooked an important aspect. High mountains are home to sickness caused by altitude. While its onset varies from person to person and with how well a person is acclimatized on given trip, it is not to be trivialized. Acclimatization – ideally gradual acclimatization – is important. At 19,341-height, Kilimanjaro is a high peak. It is the world’s highest free standing mountain with a history of unsuspecting trekkers, moving up fast because the passage is manageable and then ending up with mountain sickness. That’s what happened to Bhasker. Eventually he reached the summit. But he was in a bad shape. After return to Mumbai, he ran the half marathon in nearby Thane. “ It was a bad run. Kilimanjaro had knocked me out,’’ Bhasker said. Now he was worried about Washington DC.

Bhasker with Bill Rodgers. To the left and right are brief autographed messages from Rodgers (Photos: by arrangement. Photo montage: Shyam G Menon)

Ahead of the run in Washington DC, Bhasker put in time at his sister’s place in California. He joined a gym and regularly ran ten kilometres. In Washington DC, he met the running legend, Bill Rodgers who is a former American record holder in the marathon and has won the Boston Marathon and the New York City Marathon four times. Bhasker waited in queue to meet him and was delighted when Bill Rodgers wrote “ Lets run forever’’ on his photo and “ Bhasker – see you in Boston,’’ on his bib. Bhasker completed the Washington DC marathon in 3:41:16. That gave him his ticket to Boston. He remembers with gratitude a young pacer for the 3:40 time-category, who encouraged him at times of struggle. “ That young man and Bill Rodgers – they made Boston happen for me. I was very happy,’’ Bhasker said. He is believed to be the first person from Mumbai in his age group, to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

According to Bhasker, though he embraced structured preparation in the early stages of his journey to the Boston Marathon, he has by and large been an unsystematic runner. “ There are the serious runners. I am the unserious runner!’’ he quipped, adding, “ I don’t advise what I am doing for others. It works for me. It needn’t work for others.’’ He claimed there was no method to his madness. There are interesting details – for example, despite podium finishes in India and participating in major events overseas, Bhasker runs quite technology-light. He straps on a watch – that’s it. It would seem a free bird-attitude amid the growing tide of gladiators. But at another level it helps lighter one’s concerns, enjoy the journey and trust a good journey to deliver a decent result as opposed to a pressing need for result deciding the quality of the journey. Is the apparent absence of method then Bhasker’s madness? He smiled, played with the question and let it slip away.

Bhasker (center) at the 2014 Boston Marathon (Photo: by arrangement)

The real Bhasker, it seemed, hovered in the space between contrasting points in his observations on running. “ On a race day I like to give my best. There is no denying that. I don’t glorify being the last runner; I don’t glorify the podium finish either,’’ he said. He also said, “ I wish people would run for the fun of it, the health and the happiness. I feel very relaxed after every race.’’ Close to a decade in running and now in his sixties, Bhasker also admitted he was beginning to appreciate the merit in systematic training. Yet he stopped short of wholeheartedly embracing the approach and the possibilities systematic training may open up. “ I will never go for the ultra marathon. That requires rigorous training. I am not ready to compromise my lifestyle for it,’’ he said.

In Mumbai, Bhasker is noted for his popularity with young runners. Austin Dsouza, 30, who works as manager at an MNC, has been running for the past two and a half years. He has known Bhasker for around two years. “ Pappy is a fierce competitor and will never give anything less than 100 per cent. At the same time he will be easy going and humorous. He will go great distances to care for us puppies, always adding zing to every occasion. People like him, who inspire others, are rare. I remember when he was asked to speak to a bunch of MBA aspirants at an institution that had partnered for a race he was the only one on the panel who made the kids laugh and believe running is fun and for everybody. He inspires people on the track and off the track. Often after a race, we have at least five runners walk up to him and thank him for being an inspiration,’’ he said. According to Austin, he and his friends call Bhasker `Pappy,’ Bhasker calls them back, `puppies.’

Bhasker’s first Boston Marathon in April 2012 was eventful. He reached the city in good shape, ready to run. On race day, Boston recorded high temperatures. Bhasker did well up to the half marathon-mark; then he cramped up. He finished with a timing of 4:20. He fainted twice and was eventually carried off for medical attention. In 2013, by when he had moved to the 60-64 years age group, Bhasker completed the Boston Marathon in 3:46. In terms of qualifying to run at Boston, he did so in 2012, 2013 and 2014 and his eligibility remains for 2015 and 2016. But having run the Boston Marathon three times, Bhasker believes it is time to move on. Between 2011 and 2013, he must have run about 15 formal marathons including much running overseas. In 2013, the tragic bomb blasts at the Boston Marathon happened 20-25 minutes after Bhasker had finished his run. That year in Boston, he was placed 205 out of 950 runners in the 60-64 years age category. Back home Bhasker has been a podium finisher on many occasions. “ Podium finishes are always in India,’’ he said illustrating how an Indian podium finish compared to runners’ performances overseas. Meanwhile continuing with his running, Bhasker ran the marathon in New York in 2013 and the one in Istanbul in 2014. He ran in Pattaya, Phuket, Philadelphia, Geneva, Lausanne (Bhasker considers Lausanne a fine marathon destination – small town, great weather, great cheering) and Kuala Lumpur. Back home he ran the much loved Vasai-Virar marathon near Mumbai and the marathon in Dholavira, Gujarat. By February 2015, Bhasker had notched up on the average 15 marathons in 15 months; in some months there were more than one. When we met Bhasker in March 2015, the next major run on his itinerary was a marathon in Utah, scheduled for June.

Bhasker Desai, March 2015, at the cafe in Malad (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Was it three cappuccinos or four? The exact count escapes memory. It had been a long time chatting at the cafe. Somewhere along the way, Bhasker had mentioned and it was there in the journalists’ notes, a key to understanding the man and his affection for running, “ I think running makes you a better person. Running is a great way to socialize. I am a one man-family. Running has been a nice way to increase my family; have a group which connects with you.’’

Ram Venkatraman has been a runner for long. He is one of the founding members of Mumbai Road Runners (MRR) and a person who knows Bhasker well. “ Bhasker is a mindless, aimless runner in the sense that he does not run for personal glory like personal best, podium finish etc. He has the same passion for running that we all have. He is an inspiration to many. He also does his bit for underprivileged runners by helping them with shoes, accommodation and race fees without making a fuss about it. He is truly a legend in the running world of India,’’ Ram said.

(The authors, Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon, are independent journalists based in Mumbai. Please note: the timings mentioned are as given by the interviewee.)