ABVIMAS BMC: My Journey into the Heart of Mountaineering

From Mahabubnagar to Manali: The Call of the Peaks

My Basic Mountaineering Course (BMC) journey began far from the mountains, in Mahabubnagar, with a flight from Hyderabad to Chandigarh. Landing by 8:30 PM, I planned a quick stop at PGIMER to meet my cousin-in-law before catching an overnight bus to Manali. However, fate, or perhaps a Delhi traffic jam, had other plans; my bus was severely delayed, not due until 5 AM.

After an hour of futile waiting for alternatives, I struck up a conversation with a couple also bound for Manali with the same bus woes. They'd booked a cab, and I eagerly jumped in. Our driver turned out to be a character – full of stories about his travels, jobs, and family. He was as enthusiastic about reaching Manali as we were, declaring this would be a "Manali Dussera."

Finally, I arrived at the ABVIMAS campus, nestled beautifully in the valley of the Beas River, an apple orchard flourishing right beside it. The stone-walled, wooden-roofed buildings of the office and hostels felt incredibly exciting. This was it – the institute that teaches mountaineering! I'd dreamt of this course for two years since a friend first told me about it during a Western Ghats trek.

Doubts and Discoveries at Campus

Beneath my excitement, a layer of apprehension lingered. I was no athlete; just a software nerd with a passion for mountains and short treks. This course, I knew, would demand the highest physical push I'd ever given myself. Doubts plagued me: What if everyone else is an athlete? What if I have to quit? What if I get injured? I had to mentally accept every daunting scenario before moving forward.

Entering the campus, I found immense relief in meeting two guys sitting on a bench – a lawyer from Delhi and a mechanical engineer from Hyderabad. They were just like me, with slightly less Himalayan experience. They became my roommates, and for the first two days, we talked endlessly, sharing our backgrounds and what motivated us to tackle this course. We even sneaked out to Mall Road for snacks and some local exploration.

The People: A Tapestry of Diversity

Beyond the majestic mountains, the people were truly the best part of the course. I've never been part of such a diverse group, not even in my national college or numerous treks. We were 130 individuals, about 25 women, hailing from every corner of India – from J&K to Kerala, Meghalaya to Gujarat.

Our age range spanned 17 to 45, and our careers were incredibly varied: car paint entrepreneurs, freelance wildlife photographers, ethnic craft designers, lawyers, engineers, software professionals, IT analysts, IAS aspirants, fashion designers, psychologists, travel bloggers, marketing pros, CA students, MBBS students, doctors, and even a military veteran who served in Siachen. There was also a married couple and an unmarried couple among us.

Motivations were equally diverse: NCC candidates seeking an edge for military jobs, trekking company professionals wanting credibility, many like me driven by a pure love for mountains, and some simply seeking a break from routine. It was inspiring to see so many who genuinely loved and cared for nature.

A New Beginning: Course Structure & Daily Grind

After a couple of initial days of settling in, we were divided into "ropes" (groups), carefully mixed with people from different states. Rope leaders and inventory managers were selected, and we received our equipment. A brief overview prepared us for the course: four main parts – rock craft, river crossing, snow craft, and ice craft. River crossing was a single-day event, while the others spanned 3-5 days each. Rock climbing and river crossing would be near the Manali campus, but snow and ice craft meant a 10-day stint at BakarTach, 24 km away.

A typical day at the Manali institute was grueling. Wake-up call at 4:45 AM, followed by "fall-in" (assembly) at 5:00 or 5:30. We'd endure 1-2 hours of morning workout, including a 5-6 km jog uphill and downhill, capped by another brutal exercise session. Breakfast (puri/roti/bread, egg/cheese, dhalia – a favorite) followed, then a 3-4 km walk to the rock craft practice area.

After a strenuous rock climbing session, we'd return for lunch (rice/roti, dal, sabzi, fruit, raitha, salad), with each rope taking turns serving. Post-lunch lectures were often dubbed "sleeping periods" even by instructors – focusing after such a demanding morning was a challenge! Topics included mountain manners, weather, map reading, avalanches, crevasses, and mountaineering terminology. We also had three knot tests throughout the course. Snacks and another workout session preceded dinner, after which we'd finally retreat to our dormitories.

After just two such days, every muscle in my legs, hands, and shoulders screamed. If anyone tells you BMC is "fun," they're mistaken. It's relentless, pushing your physical limits from 4:30 AM until 10 PM. Yet, it's an incredible experience precisely because you do things you never thought possible. But be warned: without immense zeal and a willingness to embrace the pain of learning, it's not for everyone.

Rock Climbing: Finding Intuition

During rock climbing, we practiced various techniques and learned crucial knots. Observing the array of safety devices, I realized mountaineering is less about climbing and more about preventing a fall – a profound truth. We also had exhilarating rappelling sessions. We took turns as both climber and belayer, guided by instructors and MOI (Method of Instruction) students, who were incredibly proficient and helpful.

Initially, I was terrible at rock climbing. I watched in awe as the Himachal locals climbed effortlessly, possessing a natural feel for the rock. It felt like intuition, akin to mastering maths or science. They weren't more muscular, but they instinctively knew where to place a hand or push a leg. After a few frustrating failures, I improved enough to pass the climbing test without major mistakes.

Evenings in the dormitories were filled with animated discussions. Our diverse backgrounds provided endless topics, and we learned immensely from each other. One night, we watched a documentary on Vivian Maier, the mysterious photographer, which we loved. Connecting with my batchmates was effortless; perhaps the shared challenge of stepping out of our comfort zones broke down all barriers. We talked about passions, ideal lives, and profound mountain philosophies. One evening, an 18-year-old Everest aspirant who had already climbed Kilimanjaro shared his dream of conquering the highest peaks on all continents. His reverence for mountains was infectious.

We often discussed "Why mountaineering?" – a question I'd been asked many times. For me, it embodies human curiosity, the same drive that led our ancestors to fire and humanity to the moon. I want to know what's on the mountaintop, what it feels like, and how far I can push myself. As a child, I'd wonder what Mount Dronagiri, Hanuman's mythical peak, looked like. Another batchmate offered a beautiful analogy: it's basic human nature to peek beyond. A child in a cradle yearns to stand and see beyond its confines. It's natural for humans to climb and see from the top.

Snow and Ice Craft: The Frozen Frontier

Our time at the main campus concluded, and it was time to move to BakarTach campsite for snow and ice craft. En route, we'd spend a day at the skiing campus in Solang Valley. Packing was a feat: ice axe, snow boots, clothing layers, sleeping mat, sleeping bag, fleece, snow jacket and pants, tin, belay belt, helmet, headlamp, shoes, socks, slippers – all adding up to a formidable 20+ kg rucksack. The uphill trek to Solang Valley was long and tiring. An acclimatization walk in the evening and a trek to Patalsu Peak the next day prepared us for BakarTach.

Our arrival at BakarTach camp was met with my first snowfall – a magical experience. We received briefings on the schedule and learned about the nearby peaks. The snow craft field was an hour's uphill walk, where for three days we honed techniques for ascending, descending, and self-arresting falls. It was here that reality struck hard: a batchmate fell face down onto a rock while descending, bleeding badly, and had to be evacuated. Mountaineering, we were reminded, is inherently risky.

Snow craft gave way to ice craft. The field was a two-hour hike to a massive glacier, riddled with crevasses. Climbing ice walls with ice axes and snow spikes was one of the coolest things I've ever done – I felt like Jon Snow for a while! We also learned ice jumarring and crevasse rescue.

Shitidaar Summit: The Ultimate Push

One major task remained at BakarTach: Altitude Gain Day. Our goal: Shitidaar summit, at 15,700 ft, from our 10,500 ft basecamp. Armed with dry fruits, this trek was crucial for our grades. The ascent along the mountain ridge was continuous, and for the last 1,000 ft, every single step demanded a breath. We finally reached the peak! Cheers, hugs, and congratulations erupted – this was our final major challenge. After soaking in the views, we descended, battling heavy wind and snowfall. Back at camp, another heavy snowfall required us to clear our tent tops.

Back to Manali: Reflections and Farewell

Our BakarTach tasks complete, we headed back to the Manali institute with mixed feelings. Happy to have survived the course (despite my struggles with ice jumarring!), but sad that it's all coming to an end. After a day's break, we faced a written test. My dorm mates and I celebrated by watching "Meru," a fantastic mountaineering film. We found ourselves excitedly pointing out knots and devices, shouting their names – a testament to how much we'd learned.

The badge presentation ceremony followed, with some batchmates performing. We each received a tiny badge emblazoned with an ice axe, rope, and the institute's name – a symbol of our achievement. Then came the goodbyes, filled with handshakes and heartfelt farewells.

My BMC at ABVIMAS Manali was more than just a course; it was an odyssey that pushed my physical and mental limits, forged unforgettable friendships, and deepened my reverence for the mountains. It was a true journey into the heart of mountaineering.