Yaks are found in the upper reaches of the Himalayas. Ladakh, Kinnaur, Spiti, and North Sikkim. Soumya shares hilarious experiences, exclusively for Different Truths.
Have you seen a yak?
Imagine a cow on steroids, wearing a shaggy fur coat that has seen better days and in urgent need of cleaning, and there you have it.
You bump into them, not literally, that would be scary, in the upper reaches of the Himalayas. Ladakh, Kinnaur, Spiti, North Sikkim, are places where one may meet them.
It is not a pleasant experience, as on top of the forbidding exterior, topped by two ferocious looking horns, they have a steely blank menacing and hypnotic gaze…
It is not a pleasant experience, as on top of the forbidding exterior, topped by two ferocious looking horns, they have a steely blank menacing and hypnotic gaze, which even Clint Eastwood cannot better.
They are said to be domesticated, but do not appear to be. Sometimes they are accompanied by Tibetan herders, who, except for the horns, don’t look very different. The herders are a friendly lot, smiling at you, and provide shelter, tea, Maggie noodles and beer to visitors, for a hefty price.
Despite the size and looks, these creatures are Satvik vegetarians, and live frugally on the sparse grass and shrubs of these inhospitable climes.
Despite the size and looks, these creatures are Satvik vegetarians, and live frugally on the sparse grass and shrubs of these inhospitable climes. But they have another very nasty food habit, about which this tale I plan to tell.
We were trekking in Kinnaur in Himachal, and came across these scary beasts grazing calmly near our campsite. They made us all nervous, the ladies more vocally so. However, they kept in their place and we retired exhausted after a long tiring day and some cheery music around the campfire.
Trouble started next morning when we had to venture into nature to answer natures call. As we looked for suitable shelter among the rocks and the few trees, downstream from the camp, (upstream being reserved for drinking and cooking water), we noticed to our dismay that these humongous yaks were dogging our footsteps like Mary’s little lamb.
A nervous urban fellow carrying his paper roll or water bottle dodging between trees trying to shake off a huge shaggy pursuer with terrifying horns and deadpan eyes in the high Himalayas like a scene from a Hollywood spy thriller.
Imagine the scene. A nervous urban fellow carrying his paper roll or water bottle dodging between trees trying to shake off a huge shaggy pursuer with terrifying horns and deadpan eyes in the high Himalayas like a scene from a Hollywood spy thriller. Most of us returned with our morning business unfinished and looking terrified by the experience.
Consider the plight of the delicate city ladies who were terrified of cows in the first place. Being stalked by the King Kong of the bovine world on the way to the toilet first thing in the morning was a trauma that would scar them forever.
The mystery was solved by the smiling herdsmen through our guide acting as an interpreter. Apparently, these bovine mammoths, to escape the monotony of the grass and lichen, had developed a taste for the human byproduct
The mystery was solved by the smiling herdsmen through our guide acting as an interpreter. Apparently, these bovine mammoths, to escape the monotony of the grass and lichen, had developed a taste for the human byproduct, as a rare delicacy available only in the trekking season. And they were determined not to be deprived of this treat. Accordingly, they closely followed the movable food dispenser, which they knew, delivered without fail in the morning. We were reassured that these shaggy stalkers meant us no harm, and wanted only what we left behind.
Explanation notwithstanding, it took nerves of steel to relieve yourself with a giant hairy head topped by ferocious horns staring at you with a fixed baleful glare from the distance of a few feet.
We pleaded with our guide that in future our camps should be as far as possible from these friendly Tibetans and their gigantic pets.
Photo from the Internet