19931

Principes,37(I), 1993, pp. l9-25

GIBBONS: TRACHYCARPUS t 9

Trekking on the Trachycarpus Trail

rhe patm centre, s6r ,r!:;T-:::|^o)i *^,, Loniton swt4 TED

The genus Trachycarpu.s needs muchwork to determine the precise number ofspecies it contains. Everyone knows T. for-tunei-the Chusan Palm-its popularitylargely due to its legendary cold hardiness.Less well known is "2. uagnerianuLo' nowregarded as a variant of Z fortunei, despiteits distinctive appearance. The beautiful Zmartianus, though extremely rare in cul-tivation is at least grown in some botanicgardens in America and Europe and isthere for all to see. But what of T. nanus,the dwarf, stemless species from south-west China, of which no photograph hasever been published? And. Trachycarpustakil, a name often mis-used, but in realityreferring to a palm not seen in the wildfor I00 years and represented in culti-vation by but a single plant in the Beccarigarden in Florence? Indeed, is it a distinctspecies at all, or just another variant of I

fortunei, as the experts are inclined tobelieve?

With these questions in mind, WilkoKarmelk, of Holland, and I had, indepen-dently, become interested in the genusTrachycarpus over a number of years.Finding we had this strong interesl in com-mon, we resolved to attempt to solve partof the puzzle, and to go in search of Ztakil, and try and shine some light intothis dark corner of the genus.'We

began by spending an interestingday in the library of the Royal BotanicGardens at Kew. This is a treasure trovefor those with the joint interests of plantsand travel. Aided by Dr. John Dransfieldwe located several old references to Z.takiln hundred-year-old books and jour-nals. They all seemed to quote each other,

using the same words about its location:"grows in great numbers, forming clumpsand rows, on the Thakil Mountain in East-ern Kumaon. India. in the fork betweenthe Sarju and Kali rivers, between 6,500ft and 7,800 ft, where snow generally cov-ers the ground from November to March. . . in damp shady glens . . . chiefly onthe north-west side."

On a trekking map we located the tworivers, in Kumaon Province, Uttar Pra-desh, about 300 miles north-east of NewDelhi, near a village called Pithoragarh.There, in the fork between them was amountain, not named, but with a height of8,166 feet above sea level. As there wereno others in the vicinity this had to beMount Thakil. This then was our goal.

We left London Heathrow airport onOctober l4th for the flight to New Delhi,India, and by 6:30 the following morningwe had landed, left the airport and wereon a slow moving eastbound train. Indiantrains leave much to be desired and theyare certainly not for the squeamish. Aftera very long 8 hours we arrived at the townof Bareilly and had had enough. We leftthe train there and, hoping we didn't looktoo much like rich Americans abroad,attempted to find a taxi to take us the restofthe way. In this we succeeded and founda mini-bus whose driver agreed to take usto Pithoragarh, some t hours drive away,for a mere 1,000 rupees ($50). From cen-tral London this would just about get youto Heathrow airport.'We

left Bareilly at about 3 pm. Thelandscape continued flat and uninterestinguntil we reached a town called Tanakpurwhen it changed dramatically, and we began

20

to climb. We had left the interminableIndian plains and were at last in the hills.As the landscape changed, so did the veg-etation. Endless fields gave way to forests,farms to wooded hillsides.

'We began to see

the Deodar (Cedrus deodara) and thebeautiful Pinrz s longifolia, and the air smeltcooler and fresher after the stifling heatof the plains. We saw rushing rivers anddeep, deep gorges and drove carefullyround one hairpin bend after another, ona good, modern road.

We drove till midnight, parked up andslept for some hours in the mini-bus, andfinally at 9 am we reached Pithoragarh.It is set in a wide, low valley, surroundedby mountain ranges and is a very attractivevillage. We located a small local hotel andchecked in. A glance through the thickand ancient register revealed not a singleEuropean name. The rate, incidentally, wasjust $3 per night.

We knew from our trekking map thatthe mountain that we were looking for laydue south of the town, and from the flatroof of the hotel we had a good view ofthe range of which it formed a part, somel5 km distant. One peak, somewhat higherthan the others, was obviously our goal,and although the locals knew it as "Thal-

kedar" rather than o'Thakil" there couldbe no doubt as to its identity. Lookingthrough binoculars we could just make outa temple on its summit.

We spent the rest of that day, and thenext, in and around the town. We wereimpatient to be on our way of course, butthere were arrangements to be made andformalities to be attended to. We did makeone excursion with some newly madefriends out to look at some Phoenix syl-uestris palms a few miles distant. One wasa most attractive glaucous blue color.

The next morning found us up and readyto leave by 7:30, when the jeep we hadarranged to borrow arrived at the hotel.We left the village behind us and drovedue south along quite a reasonable tarredroad, across the floor of the valley, towards

[Vor. 37

our destination, which we now knew asMount Thalkedar, the name "Thakil" nothaving been used in living memory. Aftersome miles, we began climbing. Up andup we went, with the view improving bythe minute.

'We soon saw the snow-covered

peaks of the Himalayas, miles away on thefar side of the town we had just left. Thehighest, called Nanda Devi, was the firstto appear, and others came into view aswe ascended.

The road deteriorated and tar becamedirt. It became ever narrower, with hairpinbends and a drop of perhaps 500 feet,inches away from the wheels of the jeep.It was terrifying. We stopped once or twicefor photos and to admire the now stunningview. The entire visible horizon from eastto west was snow-covered peaks.

Eventually and with much relief wearrived at a small village. The inevitablecluster of locals gathered to see what wasgoing on and we showed round photos ofTrachycarpu.s, to see if anyone recognizedthem. Depressingly no one did. We weredisappointed and confused. All the oldaccounts we had read said these palmswere here, on this mountain, in great num-bers, but nobody appeared to have seenthem. Were they extinct? Had there sim-ply been a mistake made and two accountsbeen transposed a hundred years ago? Hadall the trees perished in some severe winterbeyond living memory?

At any eYent we were determined notto give up until we had been to the actualvalley mentioned in the old reports. It wason the far side of the peak with the temple,just a couple of miles away, but involvedsome serious climbing, up hill and downdale. A young man called Hareesh thenappeared who said he would act as ourguide and take us up there. We showedhim the photo expecting the familiarresponse, but to our surprise and disbeliefhe said he knew of such a tree some l0or 15 minutes away, in the direction wewanted to go. Our excitement can only beimaeined.

P R I N C I P E S

r9e3l

He donned our rucksack and we set offat a brisk pace, some of the villagers fol-Iowing, Wilko and I hardly daring to hope.We climbed up through a steep and prettyforest, and on emerging from its far sidesaw a tall and beautiful Trachycarpus palm,about 30 feet high" growing on a steepslope, about 30 yards away from us (Fig.l). We were absolutely thrilled to find it,and our excitement attracted the attentionof l0 or 15 villagers who came over tosee what the commotion was about. Weall shook hands. It was a most wonderfulsight, but could we see any differencebetween it and Z, fortunei? To be honest,no. Much as we wanted it to be distinct,we couldn't legitimately claim a singleunique characteristic.

We took lots of photos, and after abouthalf an hour we were on our way again,just four ofus, Hareesh and a second guidewhose name was Karen, Wilko and I. Wecontinued climbing, with the temple at thesummit as our initial destination. At firstwe passed through open forest and culti-vated land, noting occasional Quercusincana (Grey Oak) and other trees. As weascended the forest closed in, with justoccasional clear areas. We saw a Rho-dodendron bush-the first of many-andlots of other English garden plants: Ber-beris, Cotoneaster, Roses, Ferns andanemones, As we climbed ever upwardsthe Rhododendrons increased in numberand size, eventually becoming giant treeswith trunks so thick that two men couldnot encircle them.

Every so often we caught a glimpse ofthe summit and its temple through thethickening forest. Nearer and nearer andthen suddenly there we were, at the top.More handshakes with each other and theeuides.-

The temple itself was an open stonecabin, and inside was a small statue of thegoddess Shiva to whom it was dedicated.We stayed here for an hour, prepared andate a meal and took a long drink of waterfrom our canteens-nectar-even thoush

GIBBONS: TRACHYCARPUS

the purification tablets made it taste o{swimming pools.

We set off down the same path butsoon broke off and began descending thenorth side of the mountain. It was notice-ably cooler, and damper, as the sun doesn'tshine much on this face. The vegetationalso was different. It grew in thick, rich,moist humus, and generally looked moregreen and lush. We came across a prettyspecies of bamboo with many tiny leafletsgiving it a fox-tail appearance.

We had been descending for only a fewminutes when Hareesh spotted a tiny palmseedling growing by the side of the track-definitely Trachycarpus. Then we sartranother and another, and we left the path,more or less following their direction. Theybecame more numerous and larger, up toabout 4 ft tall. Our excitement knew nobounds as we slipped and slithered downfrom one plant to another, they gettingbigger by the minute. There were hundreds

l. Tall individual oI Trachycarpus.

22

of them. We attempted to dig some up,not easy because of their long and toughroots. They grew in a really curious man-ner, the underground part being in theshape almost of a saxophone, a U-shape,one arm growing up out of the ground andsupporting the leaves, but no roots, andthe other from the side of which grew theroots (Fig. 2). But the bottom of it wasquite rounded and smooth, and had noroots growing from it. Whether this wasan adaptation to the steep slope on whichthey grew it was difficult to determine.

It was apparent that they were growingin just this one valley, narrow and steep.If we strayed too far from its floor, theplants diminished both in size and number.

We just had to find the adult trees thatproduced the seeds from which the youngplants we were looking at grew. We couldsee down into the valley to an extent butmuch of the view was obscured by vege-tation.

Unfortunately, the time was getting onand soon we had to leave to meet the jeepat a prearranged location. We made ourway back to the path where the descentwas of course considerably easier than theascent but even so it took 2 hours of quitefast work to get to the village where thedriver said he would wait.

We had had a wonderful day and werequite elated by our findings. However wewere disappointed not to have found anymature trees in the valley. W'e were con-vinced that these were lower down. Wedecided to rest for the next day, and setoff late in the afternoon, taking provisionsand equipment for a two day stay on themountain. This, we felt, would give usplenty of time for a full and thoroughexamination of the valley, where we wouldcertainly find the adult specimens.

After a lazy day in Pithoragarh we againtook the jeep up the narrow mountain road(terrifying) to the village, where we spentthe night and set off early the followingmorning just as the sun was peeping overthe distant horizon, at 6:2O am.

[Vor. 37

There were four of us: Wilko and I,Hareesh and another porter. We set offup a different track this time, and after acouple of hours' stiff climb came to a smallhouse, where we were offered chai, akindof sweet tea, served in a glass. One of themen there said he knew of some maturepalm trees and agreed to take us to them.In fact three or four of them accompaniedus and we set off up the same track. Aftera tough ascent of an hour or so, we cameupon 5 big trees ofTrachycarpus (Fig. 3),which had been left standing when thesurrounding land had been cleared for cul-tivation. They were on an exposed hill topand looked quite stunning with the snowcovered Himalayas as a backdrop (Fig. ).The man who farmed here chatted to usas we took photos. His house was on oneof the three summits of the Thalkedarmountain, the temple was on another anda third was the highest at 8,200 ft abovesea level.

P R I N C I P E S

2. 'Saxophone' seedl ing of Trachycarpus.

GIBBONS: TRACHYCARPUS

%: : , : l l : l : i : l : l l , : : l l : :

i:l:l]:]::l::ri,

A group oI Trachycarpus.

4. The Himalayas form a backdrop to Trachycarpus.

P R I N C I P E S [Vor. 37

At length we took our departure andheaded off down the hill in the directionof the valley we wanted to explore. Wehad some adventures descending its steep,sometimes precipitous sides in search ofthe larger palm trees which we felt mustbe here somewhere. Small plants up to 4or 5 ft tall we saw by the hundred, but nolarge ones. Hareesh kept on saying "No

big, no big." With sketches and mimes wetried to explain that these small plants camefrom larger treeso mummies and daddiesin fact, and we asked him, "'Where

Mummy? Where Daddy?" He under-stood, but insisted, o'No Mummy, noDaddy."

During a rest stop he got around toexplaining why there were no mature plantsor big trees, and it was with sinking heartsthat we realized the awful truth: the youngplants are cut off at the base when theyhave 18" of trunk, to provide fibres forropes. "All cut?," we asked, incredulous."AIl cut," confirmed Hareesh. The stu-pidity of it is that no seeds are producedby the palms before they are cut, the nativesbelieving that new plants spring up fromthe stumps of the old one, which of coursethey do not. One of the l00-year-oldaccounts we had read in the library at Kewspoke of "hundreds of palm trees" in thisvery valley. Presumably they have beencutting them smaller and smaller ever since,and now they are gone.

As time was getting on we asked Ha-reesh to take us to the temple. It wasn'ttoo bad a climb and we reached it at about4 pm. when, after a rest and some tea,Hareesh and his colleague left us, to returnto the village.

The solitude was wonderful then, on theroof of the world, no one around for miles,the snow-capped Himalayan peaks on thehorizon, and only a few ravens for com-pany.

.We lit a fire and cooked a surpris-

ingly good meal: potatoes, lentils and somepackets of soup, all mixed into a kind ofstew.

-We watched the sun sink lower and

lower and finally dip below the horizon at

precisely 5:40 pm. The Himalayan peakswere the last things to see the sun and itshone on fewer and fewer, Nanda Devibeing the last to remain illuminated by itsnow pink rays.

We woke to the sound of the ravens.The sun was over the horizon already, andit was time to be up. We made a cup oftea and sorted ourselves out. On our max,/min thermometer we saw that the tem-perature had dropped to 8o C during thenight. This was October; it must get con-siderably colder in mid-winter. We left thesummit and the temple at 8:30 am anddecided the best way down to the valley.Then, taking our last look at the fabulousview, descended into the forest.

We went down some way, and, as before,saw hundreds of small Trachycarpuspalms, but of course no large ones. It thenbecame too steep for us to continue withoutgreat danger, so we went, crab-fashion,across to where the slope was more gentle.Even so, it was quite steep and much ofthe descent was accomplished in a sittingposition.

We continued down, in all some 3,000ft,.by sliding, scrambling, slithering, climb-ing, and by lowering ourselves using theplants for support. One way or anotherdown we came. We stopped for lunch,cooking some very welcome soup. Thevegetation was spectacular: huge incanaoaks, massive rhododendron trees, fernsobambooso and of course, palms by the hun-dred. Fortunately the temperature wasquite cool, at around 11.5o C, otherwiseit would have been unbearable. The ruck-sacks were heavy, and often becameentangled in the roses and briars whichgrew in profusion. Thorns tore at our armsand faces. Sometimes it was so dense thatwe just had to force our way through. Itwas incredible to look back up and seewhere we had come down from, and at thesheer rock faces we had circled round.

As we came down, the palms becamesmaller and less frequent, their place seem-ingly taken by ferns. Horse chestnut trees

re93l GIBBONS: TRACHYCARPUS 25

beginning to show their autumn colors madeit look like an English woodland. Soon wesaw our last palm, as we reached the valleybottom. We picked up a track, and fol-lowed it down a gentle slope for perhapsa mile when we began to see signs of humanhabitation. Eventually the path widened,and led us through a veritable forest ofPinus longifolia. Soon we came to a smallvillage where we had the inevitable glassof chai, and from here made our way tothe road, where we waved down a truckto give us a lift back to Pithoragarh.

So that, more or less, was that. Wereturned to New Delhi, spending a day ortwo as tourists, but we had been spoiledby the beauty and grandeur of the moun-tains, and nothing, not even the beautifulTaj Mahal itself, could compare.

And what of Trachycarpus takil? Well,

if it exists, then we had certainly re-dis-covered it. But whether it is in fact adistinct species, to my mind, is dubious.More likely, it is a population of Trachy-carpus fortunei, separated and isolatedaeons ago by perhaps the Himalayanupheaval itself. The photographs and spec-imens we brought back will be looked atand examined by experts in due course,but I feel confident they will reach a similarconclusion.

For our part, we had had a wonderfulexpedition, going to the very edge of civ-ilization, and testing our abilities and res-olution at the same time. Whether Tra-chycarpus taltiltvns out to be just anothervariant oI T. fortunei. seems to matter lessoo*. somehow. than it did before we setoff.